Disclaimer: NCIS characters and situations borrowed; varying license taken with historical persons. Victorian universe courtesy of Sequitur.
A/N: thanks for coming back, and as always a special thanks to you who have commented, alerted or favorited. Hope you're still enjoying this. Once again, sincere appreciation to Sequitur for her generosity in sharing her steampunk universe.
A PERSON OF SOME CONSEQUENCE
Chapter 11
It is a truism that, in most cases, officers of the law are a predictable lot; those tasked with enforcing the laws are also prone to follow their own to the letter, observing their own rules and schedules with unwavering regularity. For as much consternation as it gave him, Gibbs was also on occasion grateful that his old acquaintance, Inspector Fornell, did not heed his warnings of the danger in being too predictable, as he banked on just that to find him now.
And find him he did: as was his custom, even on Saturday, Tobias Fornell was at his Club for his midday meal, having been turned out of his home some months before by his shrewish wife, who gave him a beautiful daughter and unending heartburn. It was a matter left unspoken between them thus far, but each man knew the day would come when Fornell would have to concede that Gibbs, once again, was right – he had tried to warn Fornell of his folly in marrying the woman, but love is blind and even the stubborn, testy Inspector had let a pretty face lead his heart far off his usual, sensible course.
Gibbs bade the cab to wait for him and strode up to the entrance of darkest mahogany wood, ignoring the rich grain that usually caught Gibbs' appreciative eye. Time was becoming more and more of the essence, and after this final stop, any of Battenberg's lackeys who might have otherwise been thwarted by another change of cab would be welcome to follow him directly back to their master – after he did what he could to protect his employees and give them a small chance to counter the power Battenberg had behind him in this affair.
Confident he would find his friend at his usual haunt, Gibbs was equally certain he could easily manage an audience with the man, despite his own lack of membership in the premises, and pulled open the door with a authoritative familiarity. This particular men's club, while still one that would not admit just anyone, included those working men like Fornell, of good but not noble family, and was a bit less exacting than the more exclusive ones about barring the riff-raff. More to the point for Gibbs, it was not a difficult matter to get the attention of one inside.
His timing proved to be particularly good this day, as both the doorman and attendant happened to be those who knew him both by reputation and as a frequent caller on the Inspector, and who happened to look the other way as the tall, silver-haired gentleman strode by them with a terse but polite nod. They knew him well enough to recognize when Gibbs was on a mission and when Gibbs was there simply to amuse himself by pestering the Inspector. This day was clearly the former. There was no thought by either man of stopping him as Gibbs strode by.
On this particularly pleasant Saturday, Fornell had come round for his Club's own ploughman's lunch in the well-appointed bar, just enough food to fortify him for the next few hours of reports and other work awaiting his attention. He was finishing off his last bit of cheese and bread, with a swallow of his lager, when a too-familiar figure swept into the dining room.
Fornell groaned to himself. He knew that expression, and it usually preceded a demand for confidential information, or a favour, or both. It had not been a particularly pleasant week to start with, and Gibbs' unannounced appearance seemed to put the capper on it.
As the man pulled out a chair across the table from him and sat without invitation, Fornell simply sighed toward his plate. "And the day had begun as such a pleasant one..." But looking up, he saw a look on Gibb's face that he'd rarely seen – exceedingly grim, as intense as he'd ever seen him – and instantly his attention was professional and on his friend. "What's happened?"
Gibbs opened his mouth to speak and, uncharacteristically, closed it, as if at a loss for how to explain himself. Fornell's brow drew into a deeper frown to see it, and Gibbs changed course to ask, "I have information that I want to leave with you – not only for the sake of the crime that occurred and its victim, but for the safety of my people. But if ever you had to keep its source confidential, Tobias, it is now."
Fornell stared at the man for a moment, then snorted, "theatrics from you now, too, Gibbs, and not only Anthony? Have you been taken over by his..."
"Damn it, Tobias, will you hear the information or not?"
Fornell glared at his friend for a moment before speaking, then tried reason. "This is not the first time you have asked that I keep the identify of my sources confidential where you are concerned, and I am no more able to make that promise now than I have been in the past when you've asked me the same! You know as well as I that in order to actually try these matters to the Court, witnesses are needed, and their testimony is..."
"Tobias, there will be no trial in this, no matter at whose hand this occurred, mark my words." Despite there being few about in the large dining room at this hour, Gibbs' voice was low enough that no one past their table could hear. "If not for me, then for Dr. Mallard and Anthony and Timothy McGee, I need you to know what has happened. And I need to make it very clear to those involved that someone with no small authority for the investigation of crimes in the City – you – knows enough of the circumstances that both our disappearance and the case we were called to investigate will be of great interest to the Met – and, therefore, great interest to the public at large."
Fornell's eyes narrowed. "Your 'disappearance?' You're in danger?" He saw the uncharacteristic waver in Gibbs' eyes, unusual, but more telling than his words. Unconsciously, he leaned closer to hiss, "what have you stumbled upon, Gibbs?"
"It stumbled upon us – or, rather, upon Anthony."
"What, again?" Fornell barked a relieved laugh, believing that whatever Gibbs' younger assistant could have dragged home was hardly a matter of such grim concern. "His romps through the nightlife of this town will be the end of you, Gibbs; he is less than careful of his acquaintances."
Gibbs snorted at the irony. "Indeed, it started with one of his acquaintances ... although far from what you imply, and not at all due to any lack of judgment on his part." He leaned closer. "Before I say any more, I must have your word that this time, there cannot be even the slightest intimation of your source for what I will tell you – we will be suspected immediately, no matter what is said, as soon as it is spoken, but there may be enough room in the circumstances for others to be suspected as well that we may avoid suffering the consequences – if you are able to keep this to yourself."
"And pray tell what or whom might be named as an acceptable source, if I am pressed?" Fornell's patience was growing thin.
"I don't know!" Gibbs shot back, his own frustration growing with every extra minute that passed, every roadblock thrown up for him getting back to his men. "Say one of your usual informants came up with a collection of gossip items following a gathering in which the deceased was involved. Or say you were visited by the deceased's spirit! It matters little as long as it does not come back to any of us," he growled. "As long as it is some faceless person who might have overheard something he ought not have heard, that is enough. It will be clear why, soon enough."
"The 'deceased?'" Another frown. Gibbs simply glared back.
"Might Anthony's source been a young and comely 'actress' who learned something unsavory about one of her acquaintances, and just happened to pass it along to Anthony at his latest evening out?"
Gibbs' face darkened. "That shouldn't matter, Tobias, and I know you're a better man to let it determine your interest – but no. That isn't the case." He wavered. "Your word?"
Fornell stared back, then finally, grudgingly, nodded. He'd sort it out later but he trusted Gibbs' evaluation of such things as well as he trusted himself. "My word. You and your people won't be mentioned." At that, Gibbs nodded and visibly relaxed – which, even if slight – caused Fornell's worry to spike. Gibbs began to explain.
"A woman was murdered, Tobias, some hours ago. The death is known to one or two people in the household where it occurred, but she and her murder are being hidden from all others, including her husband, whom from all indications was not about at the event bringing her there."
Gibbs watched Fornell's face for his reaction. Tobias Fornell was one of the few people Gibbs was willing to call friend, and he trusted him nearly as well as he trusted his own employees, which was considerable. Yet the stakes in this particular game were so very high, for anyone drawn into the matter. And while willing to trust Gibbs as one of his most prolific and accurate sources of the most extreme information he had ever received in the pursuit of justice in the service of her Majesty and the Metropolitan Police, Fornell was, after all, a police officer sworn to uphold the law, and was not unwilling to prosecute Gibbs and his proxies if the circumstances demanded it. More than anyone else, Gibbs was well aware of how often his efforts could raise just such a demand of his friend.
And this time, it was not only the Met but the Crown's own who could bring pressure to bear, and Gibbs knew that, in this matter, neither Battenberg, nor any others in Marlborough House or in the Palace, or even beyond to the very seats in Parliament, would feel the slightest need to extend them the usual protections afforded even the basest criminal. It was for that reason that Gibbs now sought to make Fornell aware of events: were they to suddenly disappear, or worse, having provided this information to one of the Met's chief inspectors might extend a bit more protection to his people than they had at the moment.
"The household where it occurred is the seat of power and wealth and influence as any you may have investigated – and probably more, I'll wager. That power and wealth and influence is being exerted to force us to investigate, in order to anticipate any efforts you may bring to bear, most probably to thwart them, and to do so without revealing any of it. Is that enough for your protection this time?"
Fornell fumed. "You've been asked to tamper with the evidence?"
"No, to report it – and, we surmise, most probably to evaluate it and allow our client to chart their next actions knowing what you would likely find in your own investigation." At Fornell's glower, Gibbs elaborated, "we have been asked to identify the murderer. Anthony and I each independently suspected, as events unfolded, that it was in order to determine if you will be able to do so, when called in." He considered the man and knew he'd made it personal. "Fornell, I need to get back there, to them. My men are still on the premises and both McGee and I slipped away without their knowledge and most certainly without their leave. Whatever happens now – can you act as you need without identifying our involvement?"
Fornell's eyes nearly bulged. "You tell me all this to stop now, without identifying the victim or your client?
Gibbs shook his head slowly. "I cannot. I needed to tell you this so I have some leverage with those who engaged us, but within the limits of honouring Anthony's contract of confidential service, even if it was one we were not free to refuse. So for now – yes, I tell you this without identifying whom or where. I suspect if and when you are called in you will recognize the circumstances as these."
"And if you ... 'disappear,' as you fear?"
Gibbs mouth tightened, but he said evenly, "McGee was sent to get word to the Lady David, and left long enough before I did that I trust he made his way there unhindered. She will have the particulars and direction to speak with you if you notify her that we have met with foul play – and not before, Tobias, you hear me?" Gibbs wavered, glaring again into his friend's eyes and, Tobias often suspected, even reading his thoughts.
Fornell chewed on the information for a moment, then asked, "is there a chance that this murder, no matter your findings, may be hidden from investigation so that the crime will never be solved nor the murderer prosecuted?"
Gibbs answered honestly, "I imagine a chance, Fornell, but not one without consequences. Probably not the hanging the culprit deserves, but consequences of some sort, enough to make life less ... easy. And ..." Gibbs finally conceded, "this was not a faceless whore on the docks, or some poor sod taken down in Petticoat Lane. This death will be a shocking one, both for the identity and relative health and vigour of the victim, even if the location and details of her demise are not made public. I do suspect that within a fortnight of the death being public knowledge, maybe less, there will be no lack of witnesses who saw her not more than a few hours before the deed was done."
Fornell narrowed his eyes and allowed what may have even been rightly called a smile trace his lips. "All this and yet you hold the name and location?"
"The truth is a precious thing, Tobias, and therefore is exacting in detail, as you and I both understand. So will our client. As long as I am able to swear truthfully that I have not revealed who is involved or the place of our investigation, I have honored my duty to my client. I will so swear to him and let him know that you are aware of a risk we have undertaken, that our client has the means and, quite possibly, the motive for silencing us, and that the remainder of my information is poised to be added if we do not assure its holder of our safety within the day."
"And that will be enough to guarantee your safety?"
Gibbs sighed, and shrugged. "It will have to be." He looked back at his friend and asked again, "Tobias – if called to investigate, no matter what calls you there – can you proceed without identifying us as a source?"
Fornell frowned, but eventually nodded. "As far as I can, I will make every effort to do so. But you and I both know that does not always work out."
Gibbs nodded, and stood, managing a rather relieved, "thank you" as he did. "If it helps," he conceded, "even we have not been told of any witnesses nor presented with any facts, other than the presentation of the body, which was moved from the place of the murder. We will make the usual initial assumptions and proceed accordingly, but, even if we were called now to testify, we could only rightly offer the circumstances which led us to the body, and by whom, and Dr. Mallard's deductions as to the cause and time of death."
Fornell smirked, "they let you bring Ducky too?"
Gibbs finally allowed a bit of a smile to show. "We rather insisted." He nodded to his friend and said once more, "thank you, Tobias. I will let you know when we are away from danger."
...TBC...
A/N: Because the 'team' is at present in several places across London, I have tried to include in each chapter at least one scene from each venue, so we have an update for everyone with each installment. Unfortunately, this scene became almost as long as the other chapters, so it's a stand alone for now. Never fear, we'll get back to Anthony and Ducky, and to McGee, Ziva & Abby soon!