"Oi, you two, what the hell did you do with my daughter?" he cried, hurling towards the two men at the speed of light.
Gene, being a man of great integrity and discipline, stood to his feet, his fist colliding with the mans stomach. Repeating this time and time again, Sam simply gazed on in shock.
'It can't be him.' he considered silently to himself, his mouth once again hung open. Yet, the sudden thud of the blokes body crumpling to the floor made him more alert. That and the fact his DCI held the empty bottle of whisky dangerously close to the gentleman's head and neck.
"NO!" Tyler yelped, jumping to his feet, wrestling with the Guv, managing to get the empty bottle away from his Sheriff's firm grasp.
Hunt turned to face the younger man, his lips pouting fiercely. "And what did you do that for?"
By this time, Sam was on the floor beside the man, helping him get back to a confused standing position. "Are you alright, sir?" he questioned rapidly, completely ignoring his Boss' demands.
Wiping himself down and straightening up his stained shirt, the other man panted for breath; his adrenaline had been pumping - even before the what some would describe as an unprovoked attack - and was doing even more so now. Clutching at his sore ribs with one hand, the other attached to his bleeding nose, Sam let go of him, the man standing up as straight as possible before peering wearily at the DI. "Thank you." he spluttered gratefully, realising what a favour Sam had just paid him.
Sam stood gawping at him once again; it was as if he was deaf. He could see the man's lips move, his eyes feebly open and shut after the impact of such an attack but Sam simply couldn't hear his voice addressing him.
Nudging his Detective Inspector, Mr. Hunt was more than a little peeved at what had just transpired, his fingers clicking outrageously. Sam shook his head, rejoining the world in which he was living in. For the moment. "He wants a tissue, didn't you 'ear him?" Gene pestered, Sam shaking himself awake.
"Yes, of course, sorry." he delved once again into the pockets of his beloved leather jacket, managing to find a screwed up hanky after a few moments of searching. "It is clean." he assured, forcing it into the familiar man's hand.
"Thank you." the gentleman nodded once again, his fingers gently coming into contact with his tender nose.
As Sam stood, seemingly staring into space, the Detective Chief Inspector took it as the perfect opportunity to ask what all of the commotion was about.
The other man blinked, vigilantly analysing the police man's inquiry. "I heard that you were the two that had brought my baby girl in." he frowned, looking to the now bloody floor. "Apparently, she was bruised?"
"I'll let my Detective Inspector answer that one for you." Gene decided, glancing over at Tyler; his gaze still intently attached to the questioning Father. "For f- wake up!" Hunt spat, knocking Sam into the wall like a rag doll. He was too preoccupied to feel the pain though, the query only just registering in his excessively loaded mind.
"Sorry, um, yeah. I arrived back at my flat about an hour or so ago and I found a basket with a load of pink blankets bundled on top of it. I took it into my apartment and found a baby inside. Then -"
"Then I burst in." Gene concluded, wanting to quicken up the pace.
"So, you did nothing to her at all?" the man questioned frantically. You could see lines of stress indenting his skin every second, his off brown hair turning greyer with each passing moment.
Sam shook his head vigorously. "No, not at all. Other than pick her up and bring her here."
The other man let out a huge gust of air, a sigh of relief, burying his gaunt face into his shaking hands. "Thank you." he whispered, his praise directed at DI Tyler.
Sam was still startled by the man's appearance but also wanting some more in depth answers. "Um, Mr -?"
"Um, Mr Smith, Mike."
Sam's world came to a sudden halt, a car crashing into his body; the last name Smith. His Mum's maiden name. His Mother's brother? His...Uncle?
Tyler disrupted his thoughts, realising it might just be his mind playing cruel tricks on him again. After all, there was a job to be done and Smith was a common surname. "Uh, Mr Smith, can you tell me when you last saw your daughter?"
Observing, DI Tyler remove a note book a pencil from his leather jacket pocket, Mike became a little shaky. "You mean, you want to question me?"
"Yes." Sam nodded, flipping to a clean page.
"Now?"
"We just want some answers, that's all, so we can track down who did this to your baby girl, that's all. Isn't that right Guv -"
Turning sideways, expecting to see his boss stood right next to him, a sour look glued to his face, instead, his eyes came in contact with thin air. Glancing down, Sam soon found his Detective Chief Inspector, passed on in the middle of the corridor, his body slumped on a near by hospital trolley.
Sam sighed in irritation. "Ignore him." he urged, scratching the side of his face with the end of his pencil. "Now, Mr Smith, when was the last time you saw your daughter?"
Mike paused for a moment. "Yesterday morning, just before I went to work." he replied, Sam's glare prompting him to continue. "My wife, Jillian , was taking her out..."
His world freezing, his writing equipment falling to the floor, the sharp clank of the lead splitting, Sam's mouth gaped open. 'Auntie Jillian and Uncle Mike.' he thought, his breathing becoming heavier; he felt as if he was about to be violently sick.
Mike placed a comforting hand against Sam's arm. "Are you ok, son? You've gone as white as a ghost!"
Sam blinked at him several times. Eventually, he shook any crazy thoughts from his mind, re-equipping himself with his writing tools. "Sorry, just a bit tired and all." he responded, flicking back to the fresh page in his handy note book. "Right, Jillian was taking her where?"
"To her Grandma's." he spoke once again, a small smile flickering on his drained face. "She'd been in here whilst Aislin was being born. Needed her hip seeing to."
"Grandma had to go into hospital today, Sammy." Tyler could hear his Mum's voice tearfully speak to him, echoing around his head as she knelt before him, her eyes meeting his. "She fell and cracked her hip. She'll need a little operation but she'll be fine, in a few days. Who knows, perhaps if you're a good boy, maybe we can go visit her? Would you like to?"
"Grandma Lou." Sam shuddered with a whisper; in a fashion, it was all starting to piece together.
"You what?" Mike quizzed, his eyebrow raised, kind of creep out by the police officer's last familiar words.
"Uh, I need to go to the loo." Sam responded quickly, a soft laugh trying to cover his deliberations.
Before anymore questions could be raised by either man, a doctor came sauntering out of the emergency room, his spectacles perched on the end of his nose as he tried to remember who he was meant to be asking for.
"Excuse me, I'm Doctor Lowe. Are any of you the gentleman who brought the little baby girl in earlier?"
"Yes, I brought her in." the DI stepped forward a few paces, raising his arm as if he was a timid school child. "But this is her Father, Mike Smith." Sam pointed to his left.
"How is she?" Mike asked precariously.
"She's stable. There doesn't seem to be anything too wrong with her, no broken bones or anything like that. She's just badly bruised." Lowe frowned, himself with a few queries on his mind. "How did you find her?" his gaze redirected to Sam.
"She was just outside my door, in a basket with all of those markings on here. I brought her in as soon as possible." he fibbed slightly, reminiscing back to the debacle in the car.
"Oh, right. You'll probably need to speak to the Police about it later in the morning though."
Sam smirked. Delving in his pocket, he reached for his DI badge, the Doctor chuckling slightly. "Oh, ok then. Mr. Smith, can I ask for your daughters name?" he requested, taking her notes.
"Aislin. Uh, Doctor, do you know if a Mrs. Jillian Smith has been admitted?" Mike pestered, knowing for well that Dr. Lowe would probably be unable to help him.
The Doctor frowned, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Smith. They should have it on a piece of paper or something at the desk. Anyway, concerning Aislin, we'll be keeping her in for observation over night, just to make sure she is fine."
"Thank you, Doctor." Sam gestured gratefully, both of the conscious men shaking hands with the medical professional. Lowe cocked an eyebrow, upon seeing the rather large man in the tanned colour jacket barely conscious on one of his trolleys.
"Oh, that's my DCI." Sam rolled his eyes. "It's been a long day for him."
Dr. Lowe simply shrugged and walked away. 'What a state.' he tutted to himself, going to deal with more pressing situations.
Both Mike and Sam glanced down at Gene who, all the way through Doctor Lowe's explanation, has been snoring loudly, his body still perched awkwardly against the bedding on the trolley. The Detective Inspector decided to focus his attention on a more deserving matter. "Mike, do you not know where your wife is at all?"
That one question seemingly broke Mr. Smith's heart. His face slumped, almost touching the ground, his eyes freed of all light as he emotionlessly affixed his gaze to his feet. "No, not at all. I'm worried about her. She's been down every since she gave birth a couple of weeks ago." he groaned, almost angry with himself that he could uplift his wife's downtrodden spirits.
As both men crouched against the wall, Sam expressed himself. "It's probably a little bit of post natal depression. Tell me, is it your first baby?"
"Yes. We'd...she'd suffered a few miscarriages but thankfully we managed to carry little Aislin full term."
"She really is beautiful." Sam gushed, beginning to feel a little broody in the heat of the moment.
"Have you got any kids yourself?" Mike asked, turning his head faintly.
Sam shook his head in a darkened way. "No, not yet. I want to, it's just not a good time."
"Well, when you do get the chance, take it. It's such a precious gift." Mr. Smith wheezed, getting back to his feet.
"Mike." Sam yelled after him, just as he began to walk away. "Come and see me tomorrow at the station. I can perhaps help you find your wife and I do need to finish asking the questions about your daughter."
Mike sighed. He hated Police stations, coppers in general in fact. Yet, there seemed to be something different about the Detective Inspector. A little too different. "Very well, who should I ask for?"
"Me. Sam Tyler." he gulped, not wanting to hear the mans response.
Surprisingly, a light grin emerged on his face. "That's the name of my nephew. Well, we call him Sammy." a little warmth returned to his features. "Well, I'll come visit you a little later on, DI Tyler. Thanks for bringing her in."
"No problem." Sam beamed back, thankful that somebody was grateful for his actions. He peered at his watch, realising that it was nearly one thirty in the morning. He moaned in vexation as his eyes settled on the frame of his Boss. At that moment in time, it was extremely temping to just leave him there, to sleep off any last traces of alcohol in his blood before taking the Cortina and driving himself back home, hopefully getting a good few hours of refreshing sleep.
Yet, he knew that if he did that, they'd be hell to pay come morning. Grunting, Sam went and slapped the Governor straight in the face, his palm coming in contact with blonde stubble and sweat; all of the tension from the previous day had been exposed.
Sort of.
Gene awoke with a start. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR?"he exclaimed, sitting in an upright position as he pushed his finger tips to his now stinging face, making sure it wasn't bleeding.
Sam smirked. "Pay back. Come on, I need to go to bed." he told, dragging a reluctant Hunt from the trolley and down the corridor.
As Gene toppled from side to side, the DI and the DCI made their way out of the medical facility. Once arriving outside, the cold evenings air hit Hunt like a ton of bricks, his senses becoming more alert, awaking him from his alcohol induced sleep.
Demanding the keys to the beloved Cortina, Gene protested. "It's my car - you did want to get to bed this evening, yes?"
"Yes, that's why I want to drive or we'll both end up back here." Sam replied, glancing up at the hospitals many floors as his Boss reluctantly tossed him the keys.
"If you as so much scratch her, I swear..."
Sam chuckled out of line. "Relax, Guv." he said, fastening his seatbelt tightly to his body. "When I'm driving, you have nothing to worry about."
During the short drive home, the Governors eyes kept drooping shut; the concoction of Malt and sleep depravity did not make a favourable state of mind. Tyler glanced over at him from time to time, glad that he wasn't have to deal with snide remarks of Grandma like driving or tardiness.
Ten quick minutes later, the comrades arrived back at Sam's apartment. Upon parking the car, the Detective Inspector had the unfortunate task of trying to get Gene into the building as quietly as possible.
"Come on, you're staying here tonight." Sam ordered, poking Gene in the ribs, his finger tips only finding mounds of fat. "Your misses won't be too happy about the stench of alcohol other wise."
This time, Hunt didn't even need to object. In fact, he was highly appreciative of his DI suggesting this (even if he didn't make this feeling obvious). At least he prevented an angry Mrs. Hunt finding out about his shenanigans.
Both men dragged their bodies up the concrete stairs, finding their way back to the apartment relatively easily. Once inside, Gene slung his jacket to the floor, Sam feeling obliged to pick it up and placing it on the new coat hanger he'd purchased a few days ago. He decided that since he was staying in the 1970's, he might as well make his flat feel more like home.
Before Sam could even ask his guest is he would like any food or drink (strictly non-alcoholic) Gene was already unconscious, sprawled out diagonally across Tyler's small and terribly uncomfortable bed.
"Guess I'm taking the chair, then?" Sam mumbled rhetorically, rummaging about inaudibly until he found a spare pillow and blankets for himself.
As his eyes shut gently, Sam's mind paced, the many sights and actions of the day dancing through his head as he ventured off into a restless dream.
But what would the rest of the day bring?
- - - - - - - - - -
Next time in 'Blimey, it's a baby!'
Another morning and another day working as a copper. But would Sam's day be successful? Would the team be any closer in finding out the culprit for the dead women's bodies?
Check back for more, soon!
- - - - - - - - - -
Hey, thanks once again to everyone who stopped by to read and review! I realise that the alerts weren't working but I usually update on either a Saturday or a Sunday, just for future reference.
Sorry you didn't guess JudasFM! BTW, I don't know if Ruth Tyler's Maiden name was ever mentioned, so I came up with one.
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this chapter!