Things can't get anymore confusing for Gene, or could they? Welcome, dear readers, to Chapter 5…
(I say it too often, but thank you for all the reviews I've got so far. I really do love hearing what people think! (good or bad!!))
Chapter 5
Gene arrived early in CID. He was used to always being first in and last to leave so it came as a shock to find DCI Tyler standing by the coffee machine downing the dregs of his first mug.
"I don't suppose you where show to your desk." Sam said heading over to a bemused Gene.
"No." Gene said plainly and Sam tried to ignore the sarcastic undertones in his Inspector's voice. Sam led Gene over to a desk near Sam's office and Gene sat down heavily on the chair.
"Your system login is there," Sam said waving a hand casually at a piece of paper on the computer keyboard. "The password is 'password' for now, best change it. You internal email account has been set-up and your timesheet is a document on the desktop." Sam said at the speed of light before heading over to his office. Gene stared blankly at the TV-box-thing in front of him.
"Space, the final frontier…" Gene muttered to himself as he gazed at his reflection in the black computer screen.
The most hi-tech thing Gene had ever used was a scientific calculator, which as far as Gene was concerned was a calculator that divided and multiplied as well as added. Gene spotted one thing on his desk that felt familiar, a biro. Picking it up he looked around for some sort of case file to add to after last night's victim had been found. Finding not even a scrap of paper in the immediate vicinity that looked a bit like case notes Gene admitted defeat and headed over to Sam's office, with the username paper held in his fist.
Gene knocked once, and then pushed inside before waiting for a reply. Sam looked up from his computer and half smiled. "Detective?" Sam asked carefully, it seemed already that this was the kind of guys that you'd never be on first name terms with.
"What the bloody 'ell is this all about?" Gene asked throwing the paper onto Sam's desk. Sam glanced down at the paper and frowned a little.
"You really don't know." Sam asked and Gene leant oh-so casually against the doorframe, his back to an empty office space.
"All I know is that this place is less like a CID and more like the flight deck of the Enterprise." Gene said.
He'd been thinking it since he'd got there, so why not say it?
"Alright, maybe if I show you it'll jog your memory." Sam said getting up from his desk.
"What memory? You still think I'm concussed?!" Gene asked but Sam pretended not to hear.
"Right, ok, left click on the text box and enter the username, then press enter." Sam said after it had already taken Gene five minutes to switch the damn machine on.
"Left click what?!" Gene spat and Sam dutifully showed Gene what to do.
"Y'know you'd do well to be a little less hot-headed." Sam muttered and Gene shot his DCI a poisonous look.
"Back where I come from Sammy-boy, I gave the orders not follow them."
"The Metropolitan police force." Sam said bluntly.
"What? I-hold on, what?!" Gene said; trying to keep his cool for the first time since he'd arrived there.
"Well that's where it says you're from," Sam said, almost smugly, "I had a look at your transfer documents."
Gene sighed. Ok, so he was now a DI from London in 2007, instead of a DCI from Manchester in 1973.
"Fine, ok…" Gene muttered before Sam resumed showing Gene how to work the computer.
By the time most of the department had turned in Gene had grasped the basic workings of the computer and had begun to happily type up a report about last nights findings. Once Sam had explained the system as a virtual filing cabinet Gene began to understand the concept a little easier, although he did ask where, therefore, he was meant to keep a bottle of scotch, to which Sam sighed heavily but smiled anyway.
Gene, already sick of typing after half an hour, decided to do the first bit of detective work since he'd got there and picked up the phone to ring the prison where he assumed Kramer would have been sent. Picking up the receiver he expectantly listened for the voice of the operator. Instead a long dialling tone was all he could hear. Turning round to the desk behind him, "What happened to the operator?" Gene asked carefully to DC Swift who rolled his eyes, clearly Gene's backward 70's notions had already got round the department and Mark headed around to Gene's desk to show Gene where to find the Police data base and the phone numbers he wanted.
By mid-morning an argument between Maya and Sam, that Gene felt sure he'd heard part of the day before, was again in full swing.
"That's three people dead Sam!" Maya snapped.
"No! Even if you're right, and Raimes does know the killer… He's dangerous, the killer, is, dangerous!" Sam retorted, trying to keep his voice low.
"My feeling is-"
"-What good are feelings here?!" Sam cut in and Gene looked up,
Time to make a move.
"Oi, Dorothy," Gene addressed Sam as he stood up and Sam looked round, stunned. "I don't say it often but," Gene turned to Maya, "Y'right love. If you can't use a bit of gut feeling, what the bloody hell else are you gunna do? 'Ere." Gene headed Sam a scrawny bit of paper.
"I used the wonderful invention called a telephone and found out our friend Kramer is out of prison, i.e. a year and a half ago." Gene said and Sam's eyes widened.
He'd been right?!
"So, Guv, what are you going to do about it?" Gene said to Sam. Gene felt odd calling Sam Guv but Gene got the feeling that he deserved the title. Sam commanded the same level of respect and authority that Gene did over thirty years prior.
"Do? We find out if he's home." Sam said and almost laughed.
That could have been a line from a TV show.
Time to bring back an old favourite for Life on Mars, kicking in doors! That's still to come in the next chapter of The Gene Genie
Thanks for all the 'modern test-card girl' ideas! More suggestions greatly appreciated.