"The only thing we found in the victim's house is a packet of marijuana," John explained to his superior. "His record's been clean since 2009 and there was nothing to indicate that he worked as a drug dealer aside from the smartphone we found."
"I need something more by the end of the week, John," Kate stated. "We know very little about the person he's working for and it's only a bloody name."
"What if I interview Geoffrey Brooks?" the DCS suggested. "He might be able to shed some light into this."
Kate considered it for a few seconds. "I have a feeling that we're being watched," she confessed. "Had it since you started sniffing around asking about Davros."
"You think he's someone powerful too, don't you?"
"Be discreet and do not let anybody follow you, especially those journalists," she cautioned.
"I will."
A few hours later, DCS John Smith sat in the interview room of Pentonville Prison, waiting for the guards to bring him Geoffrey Brooks.
It wasn't until ten minutes later that he was brought in.
"Oh, it's Detective Magician," Brooks muttered when he realised who wanted to see him.
John knitted his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
"The coat, fam."
He still didn't understand why he was being referred to as a magician but decided to get straight to the point, nodding at the guards who then left the room.
"What do you want this time?"
"Just need to ask you a few questions."
"About the dead guy?"
The DCS looked up from the file he was about to open.
Geoffrey shrugged. "Word travels fast – Davros is getting more popular these days."
"Which gets him a lot of enemies," John added before producing a photograph. "Do you recognise him?"
The inmate shook his head. "No, never seen him before."
John pursed his lips. He knew that the man in front of him knew something. Anything would do. "Let's not play that game again – just tell me what you know."
Brooks was silent for a moment, staring at the picture before finally looking up. "Rumour's going around saying he was a spy."
"A spy?"
The young man shrugged. "Yeah, I heard people talking saying that he was working for one of the four dragons."
John had been right with his hunch. The Four Dragons is an alliance made up of four members, each controlling their respective factions in London. They were untouchable to put it simply. The Met has very little information on the group. "Where does Davros come in then?"
Geoffrey shrugged. "I just sell drugs, fam – used to."
The detective decided that he had spent enough time interviewing him and collected the photo before closing the file.
"Just a bit of advice for you since you're not that bad of a copper," Geoffrey said. "Davros won't hesitate to kill to get what he wants."
John stared into his eyes, making sure that the young man wasn't messing with him before getting to his feet and knocking on the door.
The two guards who were waiting outside entered and escorted Geoffrey Brooks out of the room.
"You must be so excited for the big day," Anna commented. "It's just around the corner."
Clara could only smile in response as she continued to mark her students' assignment.
"To think it all started with that talk last year."
The English teacher chuckled. "He was so close to chickening out and if that did happen, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."
"Pretty sure you'd be the one to approach him instead."
While the two teachers were chatting, Danny observed them from his desk. His peace and quiet didn't last long, however, as Mitch rolled his chair next to the maths teacher. "Plenty of fish in the sea."
"Sod off if you trying to rub salt to the wound."
"Look, I know you've had a thing for Miss Oswin there since the first day you came here and I don't blame you one bit, but don't you think it's time to move on?"
Danny lowered his head. "Easier said than done."
"How about a boys' night, eh?"
At the mention of this, the former soldier laughed. "Watching you attempting to flirt unsuccessfully is entertainment on its own."
"I'm just going to pretend you didn't say that," Mitch muttered. "Come on, it'll be fun, and you might actually get lucky."
As much as Danny didn't want to go, his colleague has a point and he was sure that Clara would be busy planning her wedding, so the detective would surely be with her.
"It's on me."
"Fine, fine," the maths teacher said defeatedly. "We'll go to the pub, but only for a few drinks."
Mitch patted his shoulder. "I knew I could count on you, mate!"
The moment the two teachers got to the pub later that day, Danny started regretting his decision. It was busier than usual and hence, a lot noisier than he would have liked it.
While Mitch went off to talk to someone, Danny headed straight for the bar and ordered his drink.
Just when he thought his day couldn't get any worse, he was greeted by the sight of Dylan Clarkson sitting in the empty chair next to him. He had only met the man, what, three or four times. They barely exchanged a few words.
"What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"Clara's with Smith if that's what you're wondering."
Dylan pretended to mind his own business and casually took a sip of his drink. "Dave wants you to follow her."
"Christ, if this is about Smith-"
"Davros dropped by at the club a few nights ago."
Danny lowered the shot he was holding.
The DCI smirked. "Caught your attention now, have I?"
"He's not going after her, is he?" Danny asked, feeling a bubble of fear slowly rising up his chest. Maybe he should have followed her as instructed by his boss.
The detective's expression remained stoic. "He's killed two people so far to catch the boss' attention, so I don't think he'll hesitate to hurt Clara if it comes to that," he explained. It also doesn't help that John has been trying to dig up information on Davros.
"It's difficult to watch over her when she's at Smith's home," Danny stated. "The best I can do is stay in the car."
"Just keep doing what you're doing for now," Dylan advised, downing his drink before placing money underneath the glass and leaving.
Danny made a mental note to look for Mitch once he's finished his scotch. He'll have to leave early.
"And just like that, our wedding plans are complete," Clara declared as she shut the binder and setting it down on the floor next to the bed frame.
"Two hours of sorting through guest invitations is fun, we should do this more often," John grumbled sarcastically. He then felt a pair of lips land on his left cheek.
"Thanks for helping," she murmured.
A small smile played on his lips. "You're very welcome, Clara Oswin."
Her lips curved upward for only a brief second. The rational part of her brain reasoned that now would be the time to tell him the truth. She's been putting it off longer than she anticipated.
John examined her face. "You look happy and sad at the same time."
"What?" she laughed. "No, you're just imagining it."
"Lips pouting slightly and eyes inflating," he added. "You're not thinking about the case involving your father's company, are you?"
That was something that had been on her mind too. "Yeah, I still can't believe he was murmured," she said, careful not to let slip that she knew more than him. "It's horrible what happened to him."
John leaned against the pillows. "It's more than just a gang war."
She was surprised that he was openly discussing the case with her, well, more than he would usually let on. "What makes you say that?"
"There's evidence of it, though not that strong to support my theory."
Clara didn't quite get what he was talking about. She knew it had something to do with her father's factions and that someone was trying to steal them from him. "What are you going to do to prove your theory?"
John shrugged. "I don't know," he confessed. "The person I interviewed refused to testify in court and we have nothing on the killer."
She reached for his hand under the covers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."
He glanced at her. "How was your day?"
"Same old, same old," the schoolteacher said. "Kids are happy that their GCSEs and A-Level exams are finally over."
"I guess that would mean soon-to-be Mrs Smith has time to relax and spend time with this old idiot."
"For the last time, you are not old, so stop saying it."
John arched a brow. "What about the idiot bit?"
She smirked. "You're my idiot," she murmured, switching off the lights.
At around midnight, Clara was rustled from her sleep. She wasn't sure why and she lied down next to John, his breathing soothing her, but the thought that something wasn't right just wouldn't go away.
Slowly, she climbed out of bed and tip-toed to the window. She looked around the empty street before her eyes landed on the vehicle parked right in front of John's car. She recognised one of the men. It was Danny.
She could see that the driver finally noticed them, and he immediately nudged the former soldier awake. "Shit, I think she saw us."
Danny was roused from his sleep and blinked twice before he finally understood what the man was talking about. Without hesitation, he stepped out and locked eyes with her.
"Clara?" John groaned, lifting his head slightly.
She immediately whirled around and made her way back to bed. "Sorry, just thought I heard something."
"Probably that stray cat fighting with another stray cat," he muttered just as she got under the covers.
"Yeah, probably."
By now, he was almost fully awake. "Do you want me to check outside?"
She pushed him back down. "Don't be silly – I was just about to go to sleep."
John grunted before he rested his head back on the pillow.
Clara couldn't have been more relieved that he was exhausted. Otherwise, she was sure he would have insisted on checking the entire house. She scooted closer to the man sleeping next to her and hid her face in the crook of his neck.
She was determined to get to the bottom of the issue the very next morning. Whatever is her father up to now?