Chapter 4

"Okay boys," McCormack said as the redhead entered the room, "phones off." Fitz followed after her, immediately taking the chair Kent was about to sit down in.

"Hey, that's my seat!" He sounded rightfully annoyed.

"And that's my seat in there." Fitz mumbled around a mouth full of chocolate. "But we're all making sacrifices today." A hand clipped him round the ear and he swirled round to offending party. A delicate finger pointed at his face.

"Behave." Was all that was said. Fitz merely scoffed and turned back to the window. Will rolled her eyes and crossed her arms before doing the same.

A cassette was inserted into the recorded on the table and Miles began the interview.

"This interview is being conducted at Whitechapel police station. The time is 10:15am. The date is the 31st of August, 2008. I am Detective Sergeant Ray Miles. The other police officer present is…"

"Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler." He idly rubbed his hands together.

"The solicitor present is…"

The woman filled in, "Lydia Hart."

Miles turned his full direction to the third man present, "Please state your full name and date of birth." His face remained stern.

A rough voice spoke, "Robert Lees. 11th March, 1972."

"You do not have to say anything that might…." Came through the speakers whilst a crisp packet rustled in the observation room.

Fitz turned back, "Sanders, shh." The offending packet was thrust forward in an offering. "No."

"Pay attention!" Hissed Will. She honestly didn't know how she dealt with them all sometimes.

"…Do you understand the caution?" Finished Miles.

Lees' face was blank. His head was tilted in a flippant manner. He was used to this. "Yeah, I understand."

"Where were you this morning at 2am?"

Lees' glanced at his solicitor. She gave a minute nod. "Drunk tank. Charing Cross." A grin slowly spread across his face. "I've got a ten copper alibi." He chuckled, smugly.

Joseph and Miles looked at each other. This was supposed to be a simple domestic. Quick and easy and then Jo could move on. The dismay he was feeling was something he could clearly see on Miles' face as well.

In the observation room, Will took a deep breath before running from the room. That wasn't the outcome they expected. She nearly ran downstairs in order to contact their counterparts at Charing Cross. She could only wish that his alibi didn't last all night.

"Hi, this is Detective Constable Wilhelmina Carter of the Whitechapel Station. I need to confirm with you about who was in your drunk tank last night. Specifically around 2am, if that's possible." She held the handset between her shoulder and ear so she could grab a pen and pad. "Okay," She began to scribble names down, "You're sure of that last one? Well, thank you."

Miles joined walked into the incident room as she was hanging up the phone. "It checks out. They were looking in on him every half an hour for the whole night." She let out a deep sigh. There went their only lead. They didn't even have any DNA from the crime scene.

'What the fuck do we do now?' She dragged her hands down her face and then went about organising her desk. She may work with a few 'slobs' but that doesn't mean she had to become one. Living with Jo had impacted on her greatly. When she'd first gained their respect as an officer, she got them to clean up a bit, but they quickly fell back into old habits. Hopefully, Joseph wouldn't have an aneurysm when he walked in there.

The others were sat at their respective desks. Well, Fitz was sat on his desk. "Where's your new DI, Skip?" Flicking her eyes in his direction, Will could sense a ribbing on its way.

"Probably, with the commander, begging for a new transfer." There were a few chuckles. "Arts and Antiques Squad." Miles snorted.

Will shook her head and scoffed. They really were so dense sometimes. The sound caught Kent's attention, a brief look of confusion crossing his face.

He'd been on the team only a little bit longer than Will had, and that meant he was nothing like the older men they worked with. He'd noticed the way his colleague reacted to the derision directed at the new DI. The reason for it wasn't clear yet, but he felt it was more than just the 'I'm more sensitive to how other's feel' shtick that Will often spouted. He'd have to keep an eye.

"We haven't got the chance to know him." Kent voiced. It was almost exactly what Wil had said at the crime scene, not that he'd heard that, but she was glad someone else was on her side in this. She sent him a smile.

Sander's aimed a rubber band at the younger man, "Well we won't miss hello, will we?" The band pinged across the desks, narrowly missing McCormack and Kent, but only because the latter dodged out of the way.

"Gotta be a record that," remarked Fitz as he held out a form to McCormack, "shortest serving DI." He shared a smile around the room. A muscle in Will's jaw twitched and she jumped up to leave the room, Kent noted that with interest.

Still in his suit from the previous night, Jo placed his razor and tiger balm on the sink in the men's restrooms. Rubbing some balm on his temples, he murmured to himself, "Rob Lees is no longer a suspect."

He ran the razor over his chin. Will always said she enjoyed when he let his stubble grow – 'It's dead sexy, you know' – But right now, he had to be professional, it was blatantly apparent that this team wasn't going to make his job easy. In any way.

"Everybody. Listen, everybody." He was developing a headache from thinking on this. "Rob Lees is no longer a suspect.

"Now that we….Now that we no longer have Rob Lees as a suspect…" He needed to wash his hands. Clean. Calm. Easy.

"Now that Rob Lees is no longer part of this…" He was back to rubbing his temples. "Is no longer a s….Yeah." He leant over to dispose of a tissue and noticed a face drawn into the mirror.

'For goodness sake.' He closed his eyes and sighed. 'Into the lion's den, then.'

"Where's Will gone?" Asked Miles.

Various shrugs met his question and Kent piped up, "I think she went to the bathroom, Sarge."

"That's fine we can start without her." He waved a hand and perched himself on a desk. "We've got to start over. We've got a description of the suspect so let's find him on CCTV. He's wearing a hat with flaps so he should stick out like a sore thumb.

"Sanders, you're good at watching telly." The man in question nodded in agreement.

"I am."

"You take first shift on that. Fitz, draw up a rota." Another nod in Miles' direction.

Joseph chose that moment to enter the incident room. "Right, Rob Lees has been eliminated from this enquiry. We start afresh." He locked eyes with them one by one. "Consider this a new investigation."

He made his way to the chalkboard. The men around him gave each other incredulous looks. Miles moved from his perch and watched as Joseph arranged his coat on the chair nearby. Fitz and Sanders laughed, whilst Miles, oddly, remained quiet. Jo ignored them in favour of looking for something to write with.

"I need some chalk." He sent an expectant look at them. As they looked around at each other, he noticed the absence of red hair. Where was she? Before he could ask, a voice interrupted him.

"I might have some." Ah, Sanders. This should be interesting. The man delved into his pocket and pulled out….A chocolate bar. Jo would have an aneurysm before the day was out. He was sure of it.

"I can wait." He wasn't going to let them bully him. He was their superior whether they liked it or not. And there was always someone that wouldn't risk their job for juvenile behaviour. "As long as it takes."

The youngest man, a mop of black curly hair a top his head, slammed pen down and left his seat. There it was. There was always one.

"Teacher's pet."

"Arse licker."

The others chuckled as a box of chalk was brought to Joseph, "Thank you…um." Pausing for name.

"Kent."

"Kent." Jo repeated and turned back to board. He turned back around for a second to ask the question that had been plaguing him. "Um," He cleared his throat, "Where is Wi…Carter? Where is Carter?"

Kent's eyes narrowed slightly at the slip as the others once again shrugged. He gave the same answer as before, "Bathroom, sir."

Joseph nodded, he could handle that. As long as she hadn't left him to fend off the wolves by himself.

"Thank you, Kent."

In the ladies, Will lightly splashed her face with water. Thank God her makeup was waterproof. She stared at herself in the mirror.

It was her idea to not announce her relationship with Joseph. Her idea to let the team figure it out themselves. She just wasn't sure how long she could hang onto that idea, not with the way they were talking about him. She'd always been someone who defends those she loved to the very end, and if things carried on the way they were, she'd probably end up lashing out at someone.

"Pull yourself together, Wilhelmina." She told herself. "You've got this. Just until the end of this case and it won't matter anymore." Steeling herself, she marched out of the toilets and back to the incident room.

"Right, our suspect is in his 40s." Joseph pulled the board down to a clear panel, "Average height and build. Dark complexion and wearing a hat with ear flaps." He turned as the door to incident room opened. Will smiled at him as she entered. 'Thank God.'

He continued, "It's a distinctive look, so let's start with CCTV opportunities and find this guy." He turned back to the board.

A gruff voice filled the room, "Great idea. We'll start tomorrow."

"No we start now." Joseph glanced at Miles. The shorter man took a quick peek at his watch.

"End of shift." He pinned Joseph with a look. "Unless, you're authorising double time."

Expectant looks were sent his way. Will looked down. Miles' chuckle broke the silence.

The men filed out one by one, Fitz sending a look that said 'What can you do?' at the DI and called to Kent as he walked past. Will was the only one that remained, a sad smile on her lips.

Now in his office, Will watched as Joseph arranged his desk. His watch, notebook, pen and phone all perfectly placed. He leant down and reached for a large file that was placed in one of the draw. Peered over to read the title on the front.

"Murder investigation manual?" She muttered. "You don't need that."

He sent her a resigned look, "Clearly, I do." And began to leaf through it.

Slowly, she reached over and shut the folder. "No, you don't." She pinned him with a look, "What you need, is some food, a shower and a clean suit. You must be slowly going mad in that." She gestured to the suit he'd been wearing for the past 24 hours.

He reached for his tiger balm, "They don't make this easy, Will." She knew who he meant.

"You're better at this than they give you credit for. Than you give yourself credit for." She moved closer to him wrapped her arms around him from behind. "They may have more experience in the field but that doesn't make them better." She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and his hand softly gripped her wrist in thanks.

Moving away, abruptly, she switched the topic. "You made a decision yet?" At his quizzical look, she explained. "About who figures us out first? I've already got dibs on Emerson Kent. And if I win, we're going to that Hotpot place in China Town. I've been dying to take you there for ages." She ran her hand across his cheek.

Joseph smiled. These little touches were something he'd sorely missed all day. Being so close, but unable to reach for her a kind of agony he'd never felt before. His larger hand grabbed hers. "No, but out of all of them I'd probably pick your Sergeant. Other than Kent, he seems the most likely to notice something."

"And your stakes?" Will had perched herself against the desk now, careful not to knock the items out of place. "What do you want if you win?"

He ducked his gaze and played with her fingers, "You'll have to wait and see." There it was. The boyish grin that had been absent all day. She loved that grin.

"I'll find out eventually." She looked him from under her lashes. "If you're set on staying late, be my guest. But don't stay all night." She stood and leant down to kiss him. Something he'd never get enough of. "The bed feels too cold if it's just me." And with wink over her shoulder, she left.

Joseph's lips quirked upwards, before he flipped open the folder again, and began reading. He needed to read up on the process, but he'd make it home. After all, he couldn't leave Will alone in a cold bed.

It was 3 hours later when Joseph crept into their apartment and silently changed into his pyjama pants. His partner was right, as she usually was, about the suit. Once he was out of it, his whole body felt lighter. Looking over to the bed, he could see a halo of red spread out across a pillow. She'd foregone her usual bun to bed, probably due to lack of sleep.

He carefully slid under the duvet and wrapped an arm around Will, causing her to shift and blearily smile at him. One soft kiss later, and they both settled into sleep.

Meanwhile, across town, a short portly man, dressed in a long coat and hat, umbrella and bag in hand, walked down the street where Cathy's body was discovered the previous morning. He stopped to read the sign that had been placed at the gates.

The sign had the words, "We are appealing for witnesses" and "Murder" written in large lettering, along with a number to call. The man's face turned to the building through the gates, and his eyes widened minutely.

"Oh, dear God." He whispered into the night.