This chapter is dedicated to Noa and Leo. Although they could never read any of these stories, they were always a part of a different kind of story. #YKWYA

#RIPovertherainbow

XXX

Chapter 28

P.C. Steve Strelley felt awkward.

Normally, it didn't bother him in the slightest, sitting in silence with a suspect; water off a duck's back in fact. But this was a bit different wasn't it? This was a detective sergeant from that elite SI-10 team over in Hammersmith. And not only that, she was a bit tasty so his natural male instinct made him want to have a crafty look in her direction.

He'd managed a few veiled glances during the ten minutes they'd been waiting and he'd seen how she sat very prim and proper behind the table, unmoving, her expression neutral. There was no twisting of fingers, no biting of lips, no shuffling about or messing with her hair as was so often the case. But those beautiful blue eyes gave her away… they looked haunted.

When the American Lieutenant entered the room, she lifted her head and Strelley noted the way she leaned forward just very slightly when their eyes met. He'd heard a rumour that he was giving her one and was now inclined to think that was true. They were doing that silent communication thing, that 'are you okay?... I'm fine, don't worry… how can I not worry?... I just want to go home…' eye contact conversation.

Sergeant Lincoln who had escorted him in said gruffly, "Ten minutes then I'll be back for you Lieutenant Dempsey."

"Make it fifteen and I won't jag your ride when I leave," replied Dempsey in a not unfriendly tone as his eyes caressed Makepeace's face.

Sergeant Lincoln stopped in his tracks, taking a second to come up with the translation.

"Oh, right," he chuckled. "No can do I'm afraid… and I cycle to work."

Dempsey turned his head and grinned. "Then I hope you got a puncture kit."

That tickled Lincoln who left the room with a smile on his face.

"How's it goin'?" asked Dempsey quietly.

He sat in the chair opposite Harry and slewed himself around so as to shield both of them from P.C. Strelley. That suited Strelley fine though because now, although he couldn't see their faces he could watch their body language without much danger of being caught staring. Ears attuned, he listened for her reply.

"I don't know. I'm starting to think they actually think I did it. I've had to ring Roger Sears… my solicitor."

She sounded feisty and indignant, like she was prepared to take on the world.

"You want me to do anything? Should I call Freddie, let him know what's goin' on?"

Who was Freddie? wondered Strelley.

"No, not yet. I'd rather not worry him at this stage. I'll see what Roger has to say first."

"Sure. You're right. Whole thing'll be wrapped up by the end of the day anyhow."

"You think so, do you?" And now there was a note of sarcasm, a belligerence in her response. "I saw Spikings a bit ago. Says he's got the Assistant Commissioner involved but I don't see much evidence of his involvement to date."

"Hey, who knows, maybe you'd have a noose around your neck if it weren't for him."

Strelley listened to the ensuing silence and then saw Dempsey reach across the table.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Princess. That was in bad taste. I'm an idiot. Just that this whole thing is a joke."

More silence.

"Don't freeze me out, babe. Talk to me."

"Talk!?" Makepeace hissed. "Talking is all I've been doing. The same thing over and over like a recurring nightmare I can't wake up from."

"Guess it's called the other side of the fence," he sympathised.

"Who do you think's behind it? Andy why was Jonathan involved in it? What's the connection?"

"I wish I knew. I was thinking Razor Middleton or maybe Jimmy Cheadle…"

"No," Makepeace cut in. "Why would either of them bother to include Jonnie? Any unfortunate soul who happened to be on the street this morning would have fitted the bill if it was just about me."

"Not if they wanted to make it stick. Some kind of connection… any kind makes it plausible."

"So someone's been watching me for the last few days then to know about Jonathan… watching us." She looked at him critically. "Not likely to have upset anyone you know, seeing us together?"

Strelley picked out a casual bitterness invading her words and took it to be a personal jibe at the American. Friction always had potential when a suspect was involved.

"C'mmon now," Dempsey said softly so that Strelley had to strain to hear.

He leaned a bit further in and reached out a hand to touch Makepeace's cheek.

"An' how you doin', Princess?"

She pushed his hand away. "Don't."

That seemed to surprise the Yank. "Harry… you told 'em about us, right?" he whispered urgently.

"Of course I did. What do you take me for? There was obviously no way on earth that could be swept under the carpet was there?"

Got a sharp instrument in her head this one.

"Then what's the problem?"

Subtly wounded.

"I just… I just can't…"

Dempsey drew back. "'kay. Though I don't see what difference it makes."

Her reply was so quietly spoken that Strelley caught only a few words.

"… separate… compartmentalise… distance…"

Sounded like she wanted to keep it on a professional level. Well good luck with that darlin' because the job didn't really come into it; it was all about whether she had or hadn't mown down some poor sod in the street.

There came a brief knock on the door and another uniform stuck his head round.

"Jessop wants you."

"What now?" Strelley asked, surprised but already on his feet.

He glanced across at the two SI-10 officers who were now looking in his direction before leaving silently.

"Well that was nice of 'em, givin' us some alone time," quipped Dempsey without much enthusiasm.

He tried to take Harry's hand but she snatched it away, holding both hands up off the table as though she had been threatened.

"I said no, Dempsey! Once I start to see this as anything other than a case, I might as well give up. I can't cope with you being nice to me."

"Just a little moral support, Princess but we can talk turkey if it makes you feel better."

He decided that her determined expression alone was fair warning and sat back to give her space.

"Whoever did this must've been following my every move. I drove directly to your place from Harrington Manor which must mean they followed me there from SI-10 and logically they also know my home address too."

"And not just your movements they've been tracking; they knew where Jonathan was staying," Dempsey pointed out.

"Why?" she cried, exasperated. "What have I done that would warrant me being implicated in a hit and run?"

"And if someone is willing to commit a murder like that, why would they target a third party? Why not just go for you?"

"Exactly," Harry sighed. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"So are we thinking it's an eye for an eye scenario?" he asked. "Somebody out there feelin' wronged? Slammered for a crime they didn't commit?"

"It does have a grudge feel to it, doesn't it," she agreed. "I'd ask you to run a check on arrests claiming wrongful conviction but…"

"But nothin'," Dempsey threw back. "SI-10 may be out of the game as far as the investigation goes but the computers ain't gonna be on lockdown."

Harry looked at him glumly. "Dempsey, you can barely switch the things on let alone navigate your way around a database."

"Then it's a good thing I'll have you there to do it for me."

Misplaced optimism. Whilst Harry appreciated the attempt, she wasn't under any illusion that she was likely to be released this afternoon.

"Maybe better left in The Yard's hands and who knows, Spikings' connections might just come up trumps for me."

Dempsey suddenly looked extremely serious.

"Don't ask me to leave this thing alone, Harry 'cause you know that ain't my style, and especially not when it's about you. I care about you too much to sit around on my ass an' wait for somebody else to find the answers.

He refrained from laying the 'L' word on her; she wanted to keep it professional and he understood that but there was nothing wrong with caring. He was allowed to care about his partner.

"You're too involved yourself. If you go digging around there could be consequences for both of us. I know your natural inclination would be to do a bit of investigating on the sly but I really would prefer it if you didn't."

He had to smile. She was sounding so reasonable when he knew deep down she was a cauldron of negative emotions.

"Okay, 'cause if this thing were switched around, you'd be happy to stand down and watch how slow those cogs turn in the justice system, huh? That's what you'd do, right?"

"I would if you asked me to."

"Is that so?" he asked, fully aware of the lip service.

She held his eyes, practically staring him out. "It is."

"You know, Harry, I told D.C.I Arnby back there that my partner don't lie to me…"

"Rather a rash statement."

"I don't think so."

Harry raised her eyebrows, inviting him to continue.

"You ain't tellin' the truth, then your body steps in an' sets your mouth straight. I know how to read you; I know what to look for. Like that little tilt of the head you do…"

"I don't think so. I'm very conscious of my body language, Dempsey…"

"… and the way you don't blink."

Harry looked put out.

"'cause blinking too much is a sure sign you're lyin', so you overcompensate and don't blink enough."

He grinned then, "See, I like to study your body for all kinds of reasons."

For the first time since he'd entered the room, Harry smiled back at him.

"Fool!" she accused.

"Only for you, angel. Only for you."

His warm gaze and dark brown voice soothed her; made her feel as though he actually had his arms around her, comforting her physically.

"Please don't do anything stupid, James."

Her words brought a curdling sensation to the pit of his stomach. It was too late, he'd already dragged stupidity into the arena, kicking and screaming and he couldn't take that back.

Sitting in the bathroom stall, it had really come home to him how much of a problem his habit had become. Because of the pills, he'd let Harry down, tarnished her rectitude in the eyes of those who could smooth the pathway to proving her innocence.

And to compound his guilt, he didn't even have the balls to come clean about it – to them, to her, not even to himself… because if he had, he'd have ditched the pills long before it had come to this.

It was almost 6:00pm by the time Makepeace was released into the custody of Chief Superintendent Spikings.

It had been a close call but until an identification line-up could be arranged, no positive I.D could be made and therefore the evidence was deemed circumstantial. She could have been held overnight 'pending inquiries' but the C.I.D Assistant Commissioner's input had swayed the decision somewhat.

Dempsey had been prepared for the long-haul but it had been made clear that he wasn't welcome and Spikings had pointed out that he was paid to work at Hammersmith, not hang around Scotland Yard so he could bugger off back to SI-10 and stop making a nuisance of himself here. Grudgingly and with a promise from Spikings that he would be kept informed, Dempsey had headed back around 2:00pm to a barrage of questions from his colleagues. He'd given them the bare bones which obviously had made them all the more hungry for the meaty details but seeing as Dempsey really wasn't in the mood for feeding time at the zoo, just twenty minutes later he was out of there and headed for Wimbledon, scene of the crime and home of Jonathan's friend, Mike Campbell.