Lucien's morning after leaving Jean to wander Horsham on her own.

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Lucien left the hotel with McNally and the two and wandered over to the bus station. McNally had taken to the doctor, he found his insight and knowledge of the human condition a refreshing change to the usual, 'here's your report,' he got from their regular police surgeon, and nothing else.

'Dr Blake,' the Inspector turned to him, 'do you really think the murderer is still around?'

'Maybe, maybe not. But we may get some idea of where he went after leaving the cafe.' Lucien smoothed his hair down, 'it would help if we knew our body's name and what he'd done to offend someone.'

'Any suggestions?' McNally agreed with his summary of the case.

'Disgruntled husband, or father, is about all I can come up with.' Lucien admitted.

'Could be, but wouldn't a public thrashing be a better way of getting revenge for something like that?'

'Yes, humiliation's a good one, and sends out a warning.' The doctor agreed.

'Sir! Doc!' A constable came round the corner.

'What is it Stevens?' McNally turned.

'Not sure, heavy footprints under a window. They lead out to the repair shed. Toms has gone over there.'

Blake and McNally followed the constable to the shed where Toms had found a wig and a large open handbag. A pair of black trousers and a cream roll neck sweater were lying discarded on the floor of the workmen's toilet. All the mechanics had been laid off until the case was solved so they had lain undiscovered until now.

'This was planned, down to the last detail.' Lucien interpreted the scene. 'He's changed his clothes and appearance.' He dug his hands into his pockets as if looking for the answer there.

'Pick everything up, Toms.' McNally ordered, 'take it back to the station and see if there are any fingerprints on the bag.'

'Sir.' Toms gathered up the things and headed off.

'McNally,' Lucien turned to the officer, aware that it was nearly twelve o'clock and for once he wanted to be where he told Jean he would be, 'I promised to meet Mrs Beazley, buy her lunch. She's supposed to be seeing her new granddaughter, I'd like to make it up to her.'

'Good at her job, is she?' McNally smiled.

'Bloody brilliant!' Lucien affirmed.

'Right, I'll catch you later, at the hotel?'

'Fine.' Lucien shook his hand and headed off to the Gallery.

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Something about Jean's manner as she looked at him worried him. She looked less than her usual composed self. As she looked at him through the sculptures there was an almost imperceptible nod towards the doorway to the next room. He assumed she wanted him to meet her there so he wandered lazily through and waited.

Jean took her time, grateful that Lucien had got the message. She didn't want whoever it was to see her meeting the doctor; in case he recognised him from the bus. She made sure she looked at a few pieces, paid particular attention to a Madonna and Child, a modern piece and not much to her taste but it gave her time to see that he was still there. She strolled through to the next room where Lucien was waiting in a corner.

'Jean,' he took her hand and kissed her cheek, 'are you alright?'

'I am now.' she smiled with relief, 'there's a man following me.'

'He's got good taste.' Lucien remarked. 'But it's not that, is it?'

'No. If it was he's had ample opportunity to speak to me.' She moved them out of sight of the doorway, 'he's wearing brown trousers, well cut, a check shirt, and a fawn 'v' neck sweater. Tall, about your height, neatly cut, dark hair, side parting.'

Lucien smiled at the detail in her description, and looked up over her head at a painting on the wall. 'I see him.'

'Lucien.' Jean whispered, but he moved her out of the way and ran, 'He's getting away!'

Jean turned and ran after him, and saw him rugby tackle the man to the ground, grabbing his hands and pinning him to the floor.

'Jean, call McNally!' Lucien shouted as he pushed his knee into the man's back.

Jean ran to the Reception desk and pulled the phone up from its ledge. She dialled the station number.

'Horsham Police.' Constable Toms answered the phone.

'Constable, it's Mrs Beazley.' Jean told him, 'can you come over to the Gallery. We think we've got him. He followed me from the gardens. Dr Blake has him.'

'On our way, Mrs Beazley.' Toms put the phone down and on his way out pulled another officer with him. McNally followed as they shouted to him on the way out of the station.

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Jean sat in the office at the station. Toms had given her a cup of tea while Blake sat in on the interview with McNally and a sergeant, who reminded Lucien of Bill Hobart, blunt, forthright and his sleeves rolled up ready!

Toms had found a fingerprint on the handbag that matched that of the suspect.

'Right, first of all, what's your name?'

The man stayed silent, sitting back in his chair with his arms folded.

McNally leant on the desk and raised his voice, asking the question again. Still no answer.

'Empty your pockets!' he slapped his hands on the table, 'NOW!'

The man jumped and threw a wallet on the table. McNally opened it there was a little money and a driving licence in the name of Harold Porter.

'So, Mr Porter,' McNally sat down again, 'why do I have a dead man in the morgue?'

Porter shrugged his shoulders.

'I have an idea, Inspector,' Lucien suggested quietly, 'our man in the morgue has upset Mr Porter somehow. Taken something from him, obviously of great value.'

'Bastard!' Porter hissed.

'His parentage is not the issue, his death is.' McNally grunted. 'Now tell me, what did he do to you?'

Porter looked the Inspector in the eye but kept quiet.

'Roberts,' McNally addressed the sergeant, 'I'm going to take the doc, here, for a cuppa and he can check on Mrs Beazley. See if he'll talk to you.'

'Right, Boss.' Roberts pushed his sleeves further up and moved closer to Porter.

As McNally and Blake left the room they heard Roberts threaten the suspect unless he talked.

'Ok! I'll talk!' Porter practically screamed, even thought Roberts hadn't laid a finger on him.

McNally and Blake re-entered the room and sat down to listen to the story.

'He was a salesman, selling vacuum cleaners and suchlike. He came to my missus while I was out. Showed her all fancy stuff, offered discounts. Smarmed his way into the house, sweet talking bastard.' Porter muttered, 'found his way into her knickers, and my girl's. She's only fifteen, now in the family way and won't get rid of it. Said she loved him, she's a kid what does she know about love!'

Lucien sat back in his chair and sighed.

'Murdering him...you planned it, now your grandchild has no father, nor will your daughter, and your wife will be alone.' He stood up, then turned back to Porter, 'Why did you follow Mrs Beazley?'

'I thought she recognised me, from the bus.' He admitted. Lucien blanched at what Porter might have done to Jean.

'She didn't, it was your behaviour that gave you away. If you'd just walked away...' Suddenly tired, Lucien headed back to the door, 'I'll leave it to you, Chief Inspector.'

'Dr Blake.' McNally stood up and offered his hand, 'thank you for all your help. I'll be sending a report to Ballarat. I hope they know what they have in you, and if not...'

Lucien shook his hand and went to find Jean.

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The rest of the passengers had left the hotel when they got back. There was a train the following morning so Jean suggested they take that one.

They dined quietly, Lucien had told Jean what the outcome of the case was. She remembered how salesmen could sweet talk but was saddened that now two children would be fatherless.

They sat in the bar, their usual drinks in hand.

'Jean.' Lucien suddenly remembered there was something he hadn't cleared up with Jean, 'I owe you for the clothes and toiletries you bought for me. I'm sorry, I should have paid you back by now.'

She passed him the receipts, 'It's alright, Lucien, later will do.'

Lucien looked at the cost and made to take his cheque book out.

'Not here.' She put her hand on his, 'it would look like...'

'Of course.' He smiled.

She had finished her sherry, 'I think I'll go up now, doctor. It's been quite a day.'

He stood, 'Of course, good night, Jean.'

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She changed in to her nightwear deciding she'd treat herself to some new, nicer things in Adelaide and definitely a new robe! She tried to read again, this book was never going to get finished at this rate, but she was listening for Lucien to go into his room, hoping he didn't stay drinking whisky in the bar. But no, she'd read the first paragraph about three times and still didn't know what it said when she heard him, first unlock his door then go into the bathroom.

She turned out her light and tried, unsuccessfully to sleep. Last night he'd held her in his arms and now she wondered what it meant. After a while she got up and put on the old pink robe.

She stood outside his room, the light shone under the door so she knew he was awake. She knocked, gently and waited.

Lucien heard the knock and wondered who would be wanting him at that time of night. He got up and went to open the door. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of his housekeeper in her robe and pyjamas, but, again, NOT the hairnet, standing there.

'Er, Jean?'

'I can't sleep.' She looked down, suddenly embarrassed and anyway Lucien had not put his robe on.

'Me neither, come in.'

She looked up and down the corridor but he grabbed her arm and pulled her in; into the room, into his arms and into a passionate kiss.

At first she stiffened then melted into his arms and gave in to the kiss and to being carried over to the bed. He lay her very gently down on the bed and looked at her. He smiled and then lay next to her, pulling her close and slipping his hand down to undo the tie of her robe. She shrugged the offending garment off and snuggled down next to him, relishing his warm scent and his touch as he gently explored her face and neck with his fingers. she put her hand on the side of his face and turned hers up so she could look into his clear blue eyes. He slid his hand down her side and kissed her, at first gently then more deeply as she let him taste and explore her with his tongue. Her breath hitched as he slipped his soft hand inside her top and up to her breast, brushing his thumb over her raised nipple.

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She awoke next morning to a warm and naked body and smiled at the memory of his lovemaking. She tried not to chuckle at the thought of his removing her sensible pyjamas and tossing them onto the floor where she had thrown his. It had been so long for both of them that they had taken their time to ensure that each enjoyed the others experience and, even though he had managed to mention he hadn't any preventative measures with him, they had thrown caution to the wind and loved deeply and fully until release had overtaken them and they had lain side by side gasping for breath and giggling. They had eventually drifted off to sleep in each other's arms and stayed there until the dawn.

She gently untangled herself from him and, wrapped only her robe, tiptoed out of the room and into hers, collecting her discarded nightwear on the way.

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She lay in the bath noticing the marks he had left and trickled the warm water over them. She would have to dress carefully. Out of the bath she towelled herself down and put the robe on again. She was determined to get a new one, although Lucien didn't seem to care, it and her pyjamas had come off quickly enough! The mere thought made her blush.

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'Come in!' Lucien called in answer to the soft knock on the door.

'Morning, doctor.' Jean stood there, neatly dressed in blouse and skirt, hair neatly curled, perfect makeup.

'Good morning, Jean.' He smiled at the sight, thinking back to when that tidy professional looking woman had been naked in his arms and in his bed. He wondered if he should get used to it, he'd rather like to. But even he had to admit he could not take Jean as his mistress in Ballarat, the scandal would be unbearable and he would not have her hurt or gossiped about any more than she was now, preferably less, if at all. Adelaide would also be difficult, if Christopher found out he wasn't sure he'd be best please about his mother's behaviour! He'd probably assume that Blake had taken advantage of her.

'Ready for breakfast?' She stepped into the room to survey the damage.

'Just about.' He finished tying his tie and watched her go to fold the covers of the bed down, neatly, and pick his pyjamas up off the floor. 'I can do that.' He said, slightly embarrassed she was tidying his bedroom.

'I do it at home,' she looked at him, 'why are you blushing?'

'Just thinking...'

'Well don't, it's not good for you!' She smirked, she didn't want to know what he was thinking about or they'd never catch the train, if it was anything like her thoughts!

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Breakfast finished Lucien went to pay their bills. At first Jean tried to stop him paying for her room, but as he said she was there as his secretary and they had been working. A business trip, sort of. When they got to Adelaide he would repay her for the things she had bought.

Jean went up to finish packing. Lucien's things would have to be accommodated in her suitcases, it would be tight but once she had thrown out the old pink robe, now she'd have to buy a new one, she could get his few things in. He knocked on the door of her room once he had realised all his things were no longer in his.

'Oh, Lucien, good.' She grinned, 'can you close this suitcase, I've managed to get your things in but your robe takes up more space than mine.'

'How on earth did you manage to get everything in?' He leant hard on the lid with one hand and snapped the locks shut.

'I've thrown out my robe,' she admitted 'I need a new one anyway.'

Lucien smiled, he agreed, but how does one tell ones housekeeper he finds her dressing gown ugly? And after all, the hairnet seemed to have gone, next, he hoped, were the sensible pyjamas.

Lucien carried one suitcase, the heavier one, Jean insisted on carrying one, for appearances sake.

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They found a quiet compartment on the train, one to themselves where they could talk. Jean was worried the previous night was just one night and Lucien knew this, he needed her to know he wanted it to be more than that but didn't know how they could continue. Certainly not as they were, but they were both free, and he wouldn't have an irate father to deal with, maybe an irate son, though!

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I feel the need to continue this story, even though it has not been easy to write. What conclusion will they come to and how will they deal with Adelaide and Christopher?

Thanks for the reviews and comments so far.