Chapter 3
A/N: I apologise for the lack of progress. I have not much been in the mood to write the more serious fic recently!
Camille knew that Richard had been staring rather uselessly at his screen moments before they walked in, but when they approached he made a valiant effort to look like he had been working. But there had been this moment, when the mask hadn't been quite in place, and he had looked so vulnerable that it had taken all of her effort not to wrap her arms around him and press her cheek to his chest. All she cared about at the moment was trying to do something to make it better, though she knew in reality it would not be that simple. He stood as the Commissioner entered, though didn't really look like he should be on his feet, and the Commissioner seemed to agree.
"Please, Inspector, sit back down," he said insistently. Patterson had let them collect evidence at the scene, there hadn't been any choice really, but it had been supervised personally by him. The evidence to be sent away for analysis was still in his custody – to their surprise they learned it was being sent to the UK rather than Guadeloupe. He had not chosen to share any further details of how the investigation would proceed though. Perhaps now he would be more liberal with information. "As I am sure you are aware this investigation needs to be handled delicately."
"Yes Sir," he agreed simply.
"I have been on the phone to colleagues in London and they are in agreement – two Detectives will be sent from the Professional Standards Unit at the Met to conduct interviews and investigate the death. They have responded with remarkable speed given it is the weekend, apparently there was a volunteer which made it easier – I believe the officer's will be boarding a flight in the next couple of hours so should be here tomorrow."
Camille, who wasn't exactly pleased they wouldn't be investigating themselves, was nether the less relieved that they wouldn't be left in limbo for so long. Richard looked fractionally less stressed as well. "I am sure you and your team will offer all the assistance necessary to DCI…" The Commissioner paused to check his notebook, clearly having written down the name earlier. "Huang and DS Owens for them to complete their investigation."
A change had come over Richard during the Commissioner's last words – somehow he looked worse than he had before they walked in. "DCI Huang, Sir?" He said. "Do you happen to know his first name?"
The Commissioner frowned, "Actually, Inspector, DCI Cherry Huang is a woman. I spoke to her myself."
This seemed to be the last thing Richard wanted to hear – which was saying something considering he had started the day with a dead body at his house. And then the shock seemed to wear off and turn to that classic Richard anger. "Oh I just bet she volunteered," he muttered. "Sir, I don't think that is going to be appropriate. In fact it would be more professional for Camille to run the investigation, at least…" He trailed off there, unwilling to explain fully.
The Commissioner regarded him rather coolly, "Inspector, I want you to think very carefully. It could take considerable time to arrange for a second team to come out and investigate, and meanwhile your career will continue to hang in the balance. Do you have any significant concerns that the officers being sent by The Met will not perform an impartial and thorough investigation?"
Richard seemed to undergo some sort of great internal struggle before saying, "No, Sir. I am sure they will do the job perfectly competently."
Patterson gave a nod, as if acknowledging Richard had made a wise decision. "Very well. You are suspended with full pay until the investigation confirms you had nothing to do with the death of the individual. I am sure you understand."
Camille, Fidel and Dwayne – who were all prepared to protest very loudly at that, were prevented from doing so by Richard saying loudly and firmly, "Of course, Sir. I've arrange accommodation at the Stonefield estate, I can be reached there or on my mobile when required."
"Very good," the Commissioner replied. For a moment Camille thought he might be about to escort Richard out of the station before she could talk to him – but instead he just turned to leave. At the door he paused, turned around and added, "I have absolute confidence you'll be back in your position shortly, Inspector." Richard acknowledged this vote of confidence with a tight nod.
Richard let out a long breath after the Commissioner had left. With his next one he told them, "I'll be going." And marched out of the door rather determinedly not looking at them. Camille wasn't having any of it. She gave Fidel and Dwayne a significant look, which they interpreted correctly as "I will be dealing with this, please stay here" and went off to chase him down the steps.
"Richard!" She cried, hurrying after him as she had found herself doing on so many occasions. He showed no signs of slowing down. "Richard!" She tried again, almost stumbling in her desperation to catch him before he managed to find a taxi. "Richard, WAIT!" She pulled out her sternest voice, an imitation of an old school teacher, and it seemed to trigger some automatic response that caused him to finally stop and allow her to catch up.
"Camille, we shouldn't…"
"Oh shut up!" She interrupted him. "I have no plans to interview you about the…case." She had considered searching for another word, but thought that avoidance was more likely to embarrass him than being straight about it. "I just want to check if you are okay, if you need anything?"
"I'm fine," he told her shortly. Then, more gently, "I'll be fine, I don't need anything." It was exactly the answer she expected – not that she believed it for a second.
Camille decided not to beat about the bush. "Who is she?"
Richard shook his head in disbelief, "You just said you weren't going to ask about the case! You know I can't answer that."
"I don't mean the body, Richard," Camille said – as if that should have been obvious. "I mean that DCI woman." She watched with a certain fascination as he clammed up faster than he had when she first asked about Lian.
Richard must have decided to go down the state the obvious route, "She is the Chief Inspector in charge of the detectives in The Met's Professional Standards Unit."
When she heard the words 'in charge' she initially had a little panic – was it that serious they would send somebody so senior? Or was it just a case of needing to send someone more senior than Richard? But then she remembered she was supposed to be trying to find out what Richard's objection to the woman was. If he wasn't going to tell her, she would just have to try and figure it out for herself. The problem was only one obvious solution came to mind.
"Don't tell me she's investigated you before?" Camille asked, certain it couldn't be the case. "Richard I can't imagine you even breaking a school rule, let alone any police regulation serious enough to warrant getting Professional Standards involved."
Despite her reassurance she didn't think it was the case, Richard still seemed aggrieved by the implication. "Of course I haven't been investigated by Professional Standards before!" He burst out. "Other members of the CID I started out in were, but I was never under suspicion."
He'd given away value intel there. "And that is how you met her?" Camille pushed.
Richard sighed, knowing he had been caught out. "Yes," he said shortly. "That is how I met her. Can I go now?"
Obviously she couldn't stop him, but that didn't mean she wanted him to go just yet. "But what happened Richard?" He remained silent. Camille decided to try another tact, "You clearly thought there was good reason she shouldn't be involved. Now if you think I, any of us, will lay down entirely whilst they come in you have another thing coming – of course we're going to be looking out for you. So I want to know if you think there is anything in particular I should be looking out for."
He looked at her for a moment as if he couldn't understand how he could inspire such loyalty in her. It made Camille sad, that he hadn't realised just how accepted he was here now – like he thought they could do this whole thing in an entirely detached and professional way. If they could, there wouldn't be the damn need for Professional Standards. "I'm sure it will be fine," he said eventually. "It's just we didn't…I'm not sure, um, well, it didn't end well. I'm not sure she has forgiven me."
That final phrase, 'it didn't end well', was only ever used to describe one thing and the realisation was a bit of a shock. "You were together?" Camille asked, feeling the need for confirmation.
"A long time ago."
She mulled the phrases over in her mind again – 'it didn't end well' and 'I'm not sure if she's forgiven me'. She was left with another conclusion she didn't really believe, but could have serious impacts if it did prove true. "You didn't cheat on her, did you? Because you know that…"
"No I didn't cheat on her!" He snapped, she'd upset him further. If he just came out and told her, just opened up, all this probing wouldn't be necessary. He had called himself an open book once but she had evidence from many occasions that he was quite the opposite – more like an indecipherable tome due to certain chapters being written entirely in code.
"Then just tell me!"
He looked around, and Camille realised that this close to the market they were attracting some attention. She was mad enough (yes, angry, despite all he had been through he could still induce it in her – it was like a default state between the two of them sometimes) not to care, but he said to her, "This is not the time or the place for this conversation." He then turned and in a remarkably smooth move flagged down a passing taxi and climbed straight in.
Camille, though still angry, took comfort in the fact he hadn't ruled out the conversation entirely.
A/N: I will try not to leave such a long gap next time!
