Chapter 8

She listened to his side of the phone call. While not one hundred percent certain of the nature of the call, she was willing to wager a guess based on what she could hear. The recent months had seen them settle into a peaceful rhythm. There wasn't quite the intimacy of before but it was still pleasant.

He had retreated from her, withdrawn into himself. She recognized the behavior, he was protecting himself. The small miracle was he seemed to have drawn closer to Lyn and Patrick. He'd taken an avid interest in both of their lives. She was thankful for that, pleased he was keeping them close.

However, at the same time, he'd withdrawn from her he'd also pulled away from James and Dr. Hobson. He was polite with them, friendly even, but all at an arm's length. She doubted either of them even really noticed. But she noticed, had spent great lengths of time watching him with them.

She smiled at him as he ended the call, "An allotment?"

He nodded, not quite meeting her eye, "Why not? Gives me something to do, gets me out of the flat. You're always on me to eat better. Hard not to do if I grow my own."

"And what exactly do you know about growing anything?"

"I can learn."

Raising her eyebrows, "Need I remind you, you once killed all of my house plants while the kids and I were away visiting my parents?"

"That was different, I was busy and forgot to water them. This is outdoors, they'll get rain."

"And you really want to spend all of your spare time with pensioners digging around in the muck."

Finally, he met her gentle gaze, "I need this. Need something to do, something that's not about the job. Something to look after."

It was the first honest thing he'd said to her in weeks. Nodding, almost imperceptibly, she smiled. "Then pensioners and muck it is. But I expect you to eat everything you grow."

Val's words about his allotment were still echoing in his mind. He didn't know why he'd told her the truth, hadn't meant to. He wasn't even sure he'd known the truth until the words came out of his mouth. But the minute they were out, he'd seen the resonance in her eyes, knew she recognized the truth in his words.

Her acceptance had healed something inside him. Something he didn't know was broken. He'd missed their closeness, hated the eggshells they seemed to be walking on of late. There was none of the teasing banter he'd grown accustomed to and it hurt. He didn't know why he'd built a wall between them.

Perhaps it was his almost certain knowledge she would leave when he moved on. It was this knowledge which had made him push everyone but the kids away. As he pulled them closer, he pushed away James and Laura. He was certain if he maintained the perfect balance, she would stay forever. He could have the best of all worlds.

The problem was he needed to be needed. This awkward limbo he'd placed himself in meant he was a part of but not connected to anything. He hoped the allotment would fill the void. A little plot of land that would need his gentle care and concern in order to thrive. He could sublimate his need to be needed, at least he hoped so.

Parking his car, he pushed the maelstrom of thoughts away. Put on the jovial exterior he seemed to wear as a mask these days. It would be either James or Laura and he wanted everything in place before he encountered them.

It was Laura, standing at the back of the SOCO van already zipped into her crime scene suit. He waved and walked to her, accepting the offered suit as she greeted him.

"Morning." As they fell into step, she teased him. "Where's your better half?"

"If, by that, you mean Sergeant Hathaway…"

"I was going to say your Mini-Me, but I didn't think you'd get the pop culture reference."

"Don't be daft woman. Even I've seen The Italian Job."

He sped up a step, leaving her slightly behind him. He could imagine the look on her face as she tried to work out if he was truly clueless or teasing her. In reality, he only vaguely knew what she was talking about but he really hated her to think he wasn't current.

She caught up before they made it into the church, preceding him to the altar. His stomach churned as he took in the scene, "Dear God." Taking the recorder from his pocket, he held it down for her as she crouched by the body. "This was his 999 call." The recording played. Laura listened intently. He stopped the recording, "But this was definitely self-inflicted?"

"No doubt. He shot himself."

"When you push someone hard enough in the right direction, a suicide becomes a murder weapon."

Laura nodded, "He lined up the fatal shot to deliberately deface the altar."

"Is that what this is about? An extreme grudge against the church?"

She looked back at him, drawing his attention to the altar. "Also, this got the brunt."

He leaned over her, reading from the blood-stained flyer. "The Garden?"

"Christian answers to contemporary questions." Looking back at him, "Hardly a suicide cult."

James came striding down the aisle, "Cheery start to the day. Do we have an ID?"

Laura took a step back towards James, "Yes, his name is Will…"

At the same time, they said the dead man's surname, "McEwan."

James went pale, inhaled deeply then turned running up the aisle, away from the body. Laura looked back at Robbie, concern etched on her face. When Robbie made no move, "You should go after him."

"Let's finish in here. He'll be fine."

She blinked once, surprised at his lack of concern. She nodded and continued walking through her findings.

He stripped out of the crime scene suit. Walking away pulling on his jacket he went in search of James. He'd been annoyed at first but now he was a bit concerned.

"Lewis?" He'd just spotted James, knelt down in the graveyard. He turned to find Laura striding towards him at a fast pace, "Suicide note in his pocket. Back of a photograph."

He took the crime scene bag, flipping it over. Written on the back was the note, "On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary I lost my way."

"Gethsemane is…"

He nodded, "The Garden of Gethsemane, Christ's Last Supper. I knew that. And Calvary is the site of the crucifixion." Watching James, pacing, he missed Laura's smile. "It had to be biblical, didn't it?"

"Hathaway all right?"

"I'm not sure."

He walked away from James, anger coursing through him. He'd trusted the boy, implicitly. Believed everything he'd ever told him. And it was all a lie.

It was a betrayal he couldn't fathom. The mere thought of it made him sick. It made him uncertain if he would ever be able to look him in the eye again.

He'd meant it when he said it didn't matter about James' sexuality. He genuinely didn't care. But now, in light of the lies, was it just one more thing he didn't know about the boy? One more untruth chipping away at his confidence.

Val had convinced him to take James under his wing, accept him as a confidant, a friend. And this is what he got in return. Lies, betrayals and now his life was in danger. The idea of it struck fear in his heart.

He'd sent him home, assigned a protective detail to keep him safe. Now he was looking through the evidence, desperately trying to find what he was missing. He was afraid if he didn't, James would be next on the killer's hit list.

He was pacing when she entered the office, "Knock, knock."

"Ma'am, come in."

"Just checking on your progress today."

"Well no sightings on Feardorcha Phelan, but some activity. He seems to have set his sights on Sergeant Hathaway."

"Good God, why?"

He didn't want to betray the lad, so he kept with what she knew. "Because of his friendship with Will. Anyway, I've got a protection team keeping tabs on Hathaway so if Feardorcha makes a move…"

"Well maybe he'll show his face tonight." She paused, taking in the extraordinary amount of stress one of her top detectives seemed to be under. "Lewis, you and Hathaway… Have you fallen out?"

"It's fine… But thanks, ma'am."

Leaning into his desk, "So what you'll need now?"

"Well Feardorcha's prints are on this, too." He held up the note he'd found taped to James' back in the club. "So either he's the killer or he's been set up. If it's the latter, it has to be somebody we've already met."

"How can you be certain?"

"Well only a handful of people know enough about Hathaway and Will to have a reason to do this." He sighed, "But…"

"But what?"

"I've drawn a blank. I don't know."

Moving around the chair, she sat in front of his desk. "I haven't told you this, but you remind me of my inspector when I was a sergeant. Felt like half the time I was just there for him to bounce ideas off. And mostly, that was enough."

Recognizing her words for the offer they were, he nodded, grateful for her compassion. "Well if you're sure you've got the time?"

She shrugged, "Well my busy, exciting social life…"

They been through all of the evidence and now were talking through it. Innocent paced, "So there are three options. One, Feardorcha's the killer. Two, he's being set up and he's alive. Three, he's being set up and he's dead."

"That's it, ma'am."

"Of course, there is the chance of a fourth option, which is that he's alive and working in cahoots with somebody else." Looking down at the pad on Robbie's desk, "What does this mean, the 'significance of names'?"

"Well this killer's obsessed with symbolism. I just wondered if there might be a double meaning in a name or something. Feardorcha using an alias or working with someone else who is."

Moving around the desk, "I know this great site." She pushed at Robbie, taking over his chair. "My sister's having a baby. Lucky her." She typed the address, "Now, if we put in, let's say Robert…it means…"

"Bright frame, I know." He took a few steps away, "Try the names of some of the other suspects. If that's all right with you, ma'am." Jean started typing as Robbie answered his mobile, "Lewis. What? When?" He put his hand over the phone, "Uniform have lost Hathaway somewhere in Jericho."

Recognizing the urgency of the situation they kept working through the names of suspects, "Charlie, Charles meaning man, army or warrior. Any use?"

"No, try Henry."

"From Heimrich, meaning home ruler."

"How about Conan?"

"Little wolf or hound."

"Is there any way of doing it the other way round, putting in the meaning first?"

Nodding, "Yeah, hang on. Okay, go on."

Leaning over her, right beside her ear. "Put in Life Born of Fire."

She typed it in, nodding. "I'm going to have to break it up. Let me put in life separately."

The names scrolled down the screen, one leapt off the screen. "Hold on, Zoe means life. Try Kenneth."

"From the Gaelic Cinaed and Cinaed means…" She clicked the link, "Born of Fire."

"Zoe Kenneth, Life Born of Fire."

He tore through the streets on his way to Zoe Kenneth's house. The smoke was already billowing from the windows. He directed the entry team to break down the door and didn't hesitate to enter the burning building.

James was inside the fire and he couldn't help but feel partially responsible. He followed the uniforms up the stairs, fear gripping at him when he saw James, seemingly lifeless, on the bed. Zoe Kenneth screamed when she saw them, an animal like sound as she threw her body over James.

The uniforms pulled at her while he tended to James. His skin was clammy, his breathing shallow. With strength he didn't know he possessed, he hoisted James over his shoulder and started staggering through the inferno.

He no longer cared about his own life, just needed to get James to safety. An explosion rocked the room as he made it to the bottom of the stairs. Protecting his eyes from the flying glass he found a new reservoir of strength and made it to the door.

He screamed at the uniforms, still struggling with Zoe Kenneth, "Get her in a car. You're gonna need an ambulance for this one."

Another explosion lit up the night, knocking all of them to the ground. The uniforms dropped Zoe Kenneth. While they were distracted, nursing their own injuries, she stood and walked directly to the fire.

James followed or tried to. If not for Robbie, he would have followed her into the flames. As she was engulfed by the fire one last explosion concussed the night blowing Robbie and James back against the car.

James started awake, surprised to find Robbie standing over his bed, "Sir."

"Sergeant."

Blinking, he inhaled deeply, looking around to take in his surroundings. "How long have I been here?"

"Quite a while. You were drugged."

"Zoe?"

Robbie inhaled deeply, "She didn't… I'm sorry."

Bits and pieces of that night flashed in James' mind. He smiled, "You saved me."

"Don't be so melodramatic." Robbie paused, not quite able to meet James' eye, "So how are you feeling?"

"Hungover."

They both laughed, "Well I just wanted to make sure you… You know."

James watched the older man walk away, "Thank you, sir."

Their eyes met and held an unspoken understanding passing between them. Without another word, Robbie opened the door and left.

Down the hall, he bumped into Innocent. He nodded, "Ma'am."

She pointed toward James' room, "Seems we are of the same mind, Inspector."

"He's awake; says he feels hungover."

"And you, Inspector? How do you feel?"

He rubbed at his left eye, "Much the same ma'am."

"I think you know I was opposed to assigning him to you." She waited until Robbie nodded, "But I'm a big enough person to admit when I'm wrong. Against all logic, you two work. I'll understand if you can't get past whatever it is that happened between the two of you. But I think it would be a mistake. You're good for each other."

"I appreciate that, ma'am."

"You'll let me know what you decide?"

He shook his head, a half smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "Nothing to decide ma'am, he's my partner."

Reaching out, she squeezed his arm as she passed him. "Good result, Inspector.

He opened the door to the flat, his arms filled with bags. As he kicked the door closed, he called out. "Val, I hope you're here and ready to teach me something new and healthy to cook."

She appeared from around the corner, smiling but slightly confused. "You haven't taken possession of the allotment yet, what is all of this?"

Putting the bags on the counter, he started unpacking. "I gave up the allotment." At her look, he smiled, "I don't need to care for a piece of land. There are plenty of people I see every day I need to care a bit more for."

Tears filled her eyes, she smiled. "Yes, there are."

"I know, one day, you're going to leave. But you're here now and there are still a few things I need to learn from you." He paused, took a deep breath, "And when you do leave, it will be because you are certain I have found my place in the world."