**will post daily**

S2 E3 – Da Hong Pao POW

Part 1 of 3

Government House, office of The Commissioner of Police

"I believe we both owe someone a hearty apology. 24 hours, you say? Bit of a whiz, is he?"

"Most assuredly. I was very remiss to doubt him in the slightest. I'm afraid my base nature outweighed my better instincts. I will never doubt him again. He's proven himself time and time again. I believe he has earned my trust and I will give it to him whole-heartedly from now on."

"Oh, absolutely. He's a real brain-box to be sure. Um, does he have a partner, do you know?"

"Of course, Sergeant Bordey."

"No, I mean, you know, a partner partner."

"Ah. Not that I know of. He's a very private man. I know next to nothing about his personal life other than I assume he has one."

"Oh. Well, if you could just tender our joint apologies to him, I'd appreciate it, Selwyn."

"Of course, Jeremy. I should have done it weeks ago but I will get it done today."

Honoré Police Station

He is enjoying his daily cup of Da Hong Pao tea. Perfect tea. Absolutely perfect. He has found Nirvana and it is right here in this pokey little office with no A/C and he bloody well doesn't care! He would drink this elixir naked on the beach in front of the Queen if it was the only way! Ah, bliss. There is nothing he wouldn't dare, nothing he wouldn't brave, to get this ambrosia into his mouth. Nothing.

His happiness is interrupted most cruelly.

There is a single heavy tread of warning then the Commissioner is somehow magically before him, glowering down from his impossible-to-explain superior altitude even though Richard knows they are roughly the same height. Maybe it is the man's girth or his overpowering stare… whatever it is, Richard feels about 7 inches tall next to him.

The big man gives him a come-hither look and marches away out of earshot of the other officers. Richard can see his team ostentatiously working very studiously and obviously eavesdropping as hard as they can. He's never sure if they are listening in glee or in commiseration at his dressing-downs. He hopes the latter. Sometimes it is all that gets him through the day, their moral support.

But this isn't a dressing down. The Commissioner is looking grim because he has to do something he doesn't do often… apologize. That… and it is his permanent expression.

"I've just come from a meeting with Jeremy Tipping. He's getting ready to return to the UK and he thought it was high time that I apologize to you for ever doubting your capabilities to solve the Dupree murder case. Granted, he feels guilty for pushing me to such short-tempered action… but I am here to apologize none the less. As I told him, I let my base nature outweigh my better instincts. I will never doubt you again." He pauses to consider his D.I. for a moment, noticing the man's impatient glances to his desk, "Ah, THE TEA. Well, don't let me keep you from your moment of bliss." He turns away then swings back, catching Poole in mid-step in his rush to get back to his teacup, "One more thing, if I may?"

Poole nods jerkily… oh, now what?

"Speaking to Jeremy made me wonder… I'm curious as to your limits. Next time, it will be 18 hours to solve the case… just for my own satisfaction, you understand."

Poole smiles as if the Commissioner has made a joke then sobers quickly under the big man's steady gaze. He swallows nervously, "But, sir! Surely you can't expect us to actually…?"

The Commissioner leans in very slowly and murmurs, "We shall see, hmmm?" He straightens up, gives the man one last visual blast then is gone without a sound.

Poole stares after him, lost for words... 18 hours? Really?

When he turns back to his team, they are staring at him in consternation. They only caught the odd word but they know their Chief is upset. Very carefully, Dwayne chances, "Does he still have every faith in us, Chief?"

"I'll say! He says our next dead-line is 18 hours!"

They all bolt to their feet, "WHAT!" Choruses of "That's impossible!" and "No way!" and "Is he crazy?" meet this amazing announcement.

"Are you sure you understood him?" Camille asks.

"Very sure. It seems Jeremy Tipping holds some influence over the Commissioner."

"Well, then, you just go tell Jeremy Tipping he has to change the Commissioner's mind!" Camille says.

The phone rings.

Fidel answers then gets a funny look on his face. He holds it out to the Chief, "It's Jeremy Tipping."

Everyone crowds around. Richard rolls his eyes… honestly, is there no privacy anywhere for anything? The conversation is short and to the point. When Richard hangs up, he looks pensive.

"Well?" Dwayne has to ask, "What did he want?"

"He wants me to meet him tonight for drinks aboard his yacht. He'll be just off my beach at 7pm."

"Ah, man! On his yacht! I always wanted to see that Jacuzzi! Lucky you!"

"Well, I seriously doubt I will be invited into the Jacuzzi. It's just drinks."

"Ah, man! The Jacuzzi!" Dwayne is inconsolable.

Later that evening

When Richard steps aboard 'The First Cut', he is surprised to discover that he is the only guest. Over their first drink, he is told that Jeremy is selling the yacht and returning home to 'the family pile' as his condition has worsened dramatically. He needs to go into care and his aging parents are insisting he come home.

"Pity, really. I DO so love this island. I'll miss everything about it." He looks down into his drink then up at Richard, "Also, before I go, there was one thing I wanted to finish… well, maybe not finish as I never really got started but… something I wanted to do… to ask… to hope…"

At Richard's puzzled look, Jeremy places a careful hand on Richard's forearm where it rests on the railing.

End – part 1