Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC

Content: Heartache, angst, violence,

Rating T –

Hey everyone. Once again many apologies that it has taken me a while to update this. The title of Grace's book is fictional however the quote taken from it is actually by an author called Charles Foster. I hope he won't mind lending it to the outstanding Dr Grace Foley. I really appreciate each one of you who have taken the time to read and review. Thank you. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Xx

Beyond Grace

Chapter 8

The shrill of the telephone startled Boyd. When Eve had left his office he had allowed himself to break. He was tired. Tired of trying to hold it all together, tired of fighting, tired of being strong, but most of all he was tired of losing all the people that ever mattered to him. What's the point? he thought as he lifted his gaze and surveyed his office. He had been lost in thought for most of the afternoon. Does any of this really matter?

Grace had been with him since the beginning. He had been given the choice of profilers when setting up the CCU and he had shortlisted it to Grace and a young man going by the name of Trevor Thompson. From their first meeting he knew that it was always going to be Grace he would offer the job to. Her bright blue eyes danced as she spoke of the love she had for psychology and learning about what makes the inner man tick. Although he personally thought it was all a load of crap, her enthusiasm was infectious and he was instantly drawn to her. He smiled as he remembered how he took her for a drink after her appointment.

"Is this where you take all your new employees DSI Boyd?" she enquired.

"Just Boyd is fine, and no, I only buy drinks for the attractive employees. I have a reputation to uphold and Spence just wouldn't look good sitting on that bar stool beside me." He stared intently at her and noticed how the lighting in the bar made her blue eyes appear even brighter. She was very understatedly pretty. Not his usual type, but there was something about her that interested him. Her face expressive as she spoke ensured that he held her gaze. He instantly felt protective towards her, and knew then that he wanted her on the team, even more than any of the others he had recently instated.

The glint in his dark eyes told her that he was being playful. She could feel the blood rush uncontrollably to her cheeks as she diverted her gaze from him. He was a very handsome man. Strong, confident, and incredibly sexy, although she promised herself that she would never admit that openly. She knew that he was only being kind, that his words carried no depth of meaning.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to embarrass you." He laughed immediately lightening the mood.

"You didn't, not at all….." She smiled"…. It's just it's been a long time since I've been described as attractive, and I have a feeling you're mocking me." She looked at him in a way that let him know she wasn't angry.

"I wasn't, I swear …. I mean it." He held his hands up in defence, laughing as he did so. "I told you I have a reputation to uphold."

"Yeah I've heard all about that reputation."

"Oh really ….. care to enlighten me Dr Foley?"

"Just that you are a bad tempered arrogant asshole." She watched as he threw his head back and laughed hard.

"Yeah that sounds about right, and yet you still accepted the job. Why would you want to work with a bad tempered arrogant asshole then?"

"Because I also heard that you were the best and I want to work with the best." When she smiled her eyes danced.

"And I only want the best working with me Dr Foley."

He had never regretted the decision in employing her. Of course they had their moments. He knew that their arguments were legendary in the Unit. Sighing heavily he remembered how bitter some of them had become. He never would intentionally hurt her, though he knew he had many times. Each time he felt something pierce his own heart. His damn temper, she had been right all those years ago. She had an innate ability to infuriate and calm him within one heartbeat. She had seen him at his very worst and yet stood by him unshaken. They had danced around each other like some virtual masquerade ball for almost ten years. The flirtatious song holding their interest enough to continue, but both of them careful to never lower their mask. Boyd tried to determine if it was indeed careful professionalism or pure stubbornness, neither of them willing to leave themselves open to rejection nor risking the ultimate death of their friendship. He knew he wasn't good at relationships, driving everyone further away from him, and he needed her too much to ever jeopardise what they had for something he knew could only end badly if he was involved.

He sighed again at her memory, she didn't even realise how beautiful she was and he hated himself for never telling her. The fact that she couldn't see what was blatantly obvious to anyone within a million miles of her just made her even more attractive. Her warmth and genuine affection for people was alluring. She had the ability to draw people to her, and an ease of making them trust her completely. Grace had proved her worth time and time again, and he knew she held the team together. Yes he might be the figure head, but it was Grace who was the peace keeper, who people turned too when they needed advice and help. No-one would willingly approach him for help unless they absolutely had to and he knew that. He had no idea what they would do now ….. or indeed what he would do. He never admitted, not even to himself, how much he relied and leaned on her. He closed his eyes as picked up with receiver.

"Yes" he answered gruffly.

"Boyd, ballistics have just come back on the bullet, we have a match."

"Okay thanks Eve; get Spence, team meeting, five minutes."

By the time Boyd reached the bullpen Spencer and Eve were already waiting for him.

"Okay, what have we got?" he wearily asked whilst sitting heavily in the chair facing where they stood.

"We have to release Harbinson, he's not our killer." Eve said more abruptly than she intended.

"What? ….. I thought? ….." Boyd's eyes darted between them confusion reigning on his face.

"It's not him." Spencer interjected. "His alibi checks out."

"His alibi?" Maybe it was tiredness, or shock, or both but Boyd's mind was finding it difficult to process the information he was hearing. He had been sure that Harbinson was guilty.

"Yea, apparently it was his mum's 75th birthday on Saturday and there was some sort of a family get-together … in Bristol. He was there all weekend. "Spence continued.

"What and you only have the word of his family for that do you? They couldn't possibly be lying could they?"

"No, hold on, we have checked the CCTV from the train stations, he left early on Friday evening and returned on Monday afternoon. "

Boyd stood up and begin pacing, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "Could he have come back anytime during the weekend, waited for Grace and ….. I mean … well ….. it's a possibility isn't it."

"Yeah it's a possibility, but it didn't happen at least not by train. Eve has trawled through all the CCTV footage from Bristol train station and he didn't re-enter it again until he got on his train on Monday afternoon, AFTER you received the photograph. "

Boyd swore loudly, still pacing.

"Plus he also doesn't fit in with the results of the ballistics on the bullet." Eve continued.

Boyd stood still and slowly turned to look directly at Eve. "Yes, okay, the bullet, what's the story?"

"Well I ran it through the database and eventually it turned up a match." She fumbled over some papers on the table in front of her before continuing. "Ah here we go ….. this bullet was fired from the same gun used in the Highgate armed robbery in 1982. A high-end jewellery shop was held up by a gang of five men which went wrong resulting in one of the employees being killed as well as a lady who was standing nearby. Surprisingly only one of the gang members was ever caught, it appears that the other four legged it as soon as it got hairy, but the one they caught … a ….. Quinton Taylor had become a little distraught at the scene and the officers were able to make an arrest. "Eve moved towards the clear board and stuck up a photograph of Taylor beside the one of Stephen Harbinson.

"Could Harbinson of been one of the other gang members who disappeared?"

"No, he was inside at the time, turns out Harbinson's been in and out of prison for most of his life. "

Boyd stared intently "So what happened to Taylor?"

"He got life for murder." Spence replied.

"Well why now? Why after 29 years has this gun suddenly reappeared? The level of Boyd's voice was steadily rising.

"Taylor was released at the end of last year, it could be a coincidence I suppose" Spence shrugged but his tone was such that it was evident he thought it was no coincidence.

Boyd tried to clear his head as he searched his memory for any recollection of the Highgate robbery. Everything seemed so damn foggy.

"What has he got to do with Grace?"

"That's just it, nothing, as far as we can tell. She had no dealings with Taylor's case"

"What about her work at Broadmoor, would she have known him from there?" Boyd had moved towards the board and was studying the shaven headed man in the photograph in front of him.

"No, he was never in Broadmoor. There is no record of Grace ever coming into contact with Taylor at all."

Boyd ran his fingers threw his hair releasing the breath he wasn't conscious he was holding. "So where is he?"

"We've literally just got an address for him." Spence answered. "

"Right what the hell are we waiting for, come on MOVE."

"Hold on Boyd, what about Harbinson, you need to release him Boyd." Eve gently reminded him.

"Yea Harbinson …. I completely screwed that up, I dare say I'll be summons by the Commissioner before the end of the day.

"It's okay he's not going to file a complaint Sir." Spence smiled at his boss.

"He'd be completely stupid not to, I wanted to kill him."

"Turns out that when we had a closer look at Harbinson's house there were a few pot plants that he didn't find in his local garden centre. He easily played the game of blind eye for blind eye … or I should say blind eye for broken nose in this case!"

Boyd smiled at his young DI obviously relieved. He knew Spence had covered his back many times sometimes at the risk of his own career. "Thanks Spence." He said placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay. To be honest he deserved the kicking anyway for what he said about Grace."

"Let's get him outta here anyway eh, Eve can you arrange for someone to let him go?"

"Yeah sure, no problem"

"Spence ….. you're with me."

Taylor's dingy bedsit was dark and dank Spencer noted as he walked through the door that he had just picked the lock too, the smell of damp almost overpowering.

"What a hole." he said as he continued to look around the room they had just entered.

Boyd stopped to pick up some post that was strewn beneath the door, a sure sign that no-one had been here in at least a number of days. In amongst the countless takeaway menus and other junk mail was a letter from the Court service addressed to Mr Quinton Taylor.

"This is his place alright" Boyd extended the letter to Spence as his eyes adjusted to the dark conditions of the flat. The paint was flaking off the walls and mould was gathering underneath the one window that was prevented from letting in the afternoon sun by an old heavy green velvet curtain drawn firmly closed. The un-matching chairs were stained with endless years of spillage and abuse. The tattered carpet they stood upon littered with beer cans, vodka bottles and top shelf magazines. Boyd kicked his way through a pile of cans and takeaway boxes as he continued his exploration. From the corner of his eye something caught his attention. In the midst of the magazines and newspapers lay a hardback book. Boyd slowly bent down and picked it was sighing heavily as he did.

Behind the Criminal Mask by Dr Grace Foley.

Boyd slowly turned the book over and stared at the photograph adorning the cover, his fingers inadvertently tracing her face. It was a striking image of her, her blonde hair gleaming underneath the studio lights, blue eyes sparkling and full of life. Her skin glowing, radiant. She looked confident and happy. A sharp pain penetrated his heart as his eyes once again betrayed him and his mind replaced the beautiful image in front of him with the lifeless beaten form of his friend lying on the ground surrounded in a pool of her own blood. He carefully opened the already thumbed pages, flicking through stopping only to note the passages that had been underlined.

"Have a look at this Spence" he motioned to his DI who immediately crossed the room to where Boyd was standing.

"So, Taylor knew who Grace was then."

"Yeah … and where she worked" Boyd motioned to the blurb that was written on the cover underneath her photograph detailing Graces' experience and working career "…. She would have been easy to track down."

"But that doesn't explain why he would want to, as far as we can see Taylor had absolutely no connection with Grace, he had no reason hold a grudge."

"Maybe he wasn't a fan of her work." Boyd tried to be flippant but he was just as confused as Spence why Taylor would be interested in Grace.

"Oh maybe, he was a big fan of her work, to the point of obsession." Spence deducted.

Boyd ran his fingers threw his hair brushing it off his face. "It's like something straight out of Misery, but yeah, it's certainly a possibility and at the minute it's the only idea we've got." He swallowed hard, looking intently at the book he was still holding. "Get Eve down here, have her do her thing, tell her to check everything for anything that seems even remotely strange."

"No problem Boss."

"We need to find Taylor."

"I'll send his photograph and details to all the surrounding local forces and tell them to pick him up on sight." Spence answered.

"Great …. thanks Spence …. and make sure you tell them we need him alive. If anything happens to him we will never find Grace." Spence nodded in response as he began dialling Eve's number.
"Eve, its Spence …"

_

Boyd sat heavily in his chair placing Grace's book on the desk in front of him. The well-thumbed pages and underlined passages portraying that the book had been well read and considered.

'In our dreams we see all sorts of things: delights that we would be prosecuted for pursuing; horrors such as Dante could never imagine. Fortunately we are paralysed, and cannot act them out. There are some people who cannot switch off their dreams, and cannot shut their ears to the ethereal voices that we all hear in our sleep. We call them psychotic …'

Was Taylor acting out his dreams, his infatuation with Grace spilling over into the conscious world?

Boyd spent the next few hours trawling through the book making notes on any underlined passages or places that Taylor had marked. As far as he could tell there wasn't an immediate common thread driving Taylor's thoughts, except of course the fact it was all written by Grace. Eve had telephoned earlier to say there was nothing of interest at Taylor's bedsit, apart from the fact it was filthy and full of porn magazines, all of which Boyd was already aware off. He felt sickened as he tried to stop the horror of what Taylor may have done to Grace before committing the final act of ownership. He rubbed his hand across his beard as he tried to dispel the noise within him.

Without warning his mobile phone began to vibrate loudly on the desk where he had long ago thrown it. He knew that both Spence and Eve were back in the office, so it was neither of them trying to reach him, and as there was no one else he wished to speak to he buried his head further into his hands. His attempts to ignore it however were futile as the vibration continued. Frustrated he reached out and lifted it quickly, his blood running chillingly cold as he caught sight of the caller ID

TBC