Sorry about the long wait, I kinda lost my train of thought, hopefully I've found it again, and here we go,
Chapter 21
The next week passed painlessly for the department. As far as Gene was concerned he'd never had a more dull run up to nothing. Morgan's court hearing had been put forward then put back more times, as Gene put to Sam one afternoon,
"Than a clock on a time zone."
To which Sam asked whether he'd like to mix any other metaphors. The only thing Gene found marginally more interesting than playing noughts and crosses with himself was dealing with the ever present flow of journalists who had just about set up camp on the steps of A Division.
"'aw is it that we can more scruffy skin 'eads on when they loiter, but we can't with that bunch." Gene complained to Sam, as he entered Sam's office, hooking a thumb in the general direction of outside.
"Yes, Gene, I can see it now, Questions asked as detective looses patients with mild mannered reporter." Sam said standing up. "Anyway, I found something that we can do."
Sam walked round his desk and passed Gene in the doorway.
"What?!" Gene demanded. Trailing after Sam as he left CID.
Oh c'mon!
Gene caught up with Sam, half out of breath by a car.
"So?" Gene said, realising Sam had paused.
"Well I can't drive!" Sam said handing Gene the keys before getting in the passenger side.
"Where to Guv?" Gene asked.
"Queen's park road. We've got a new lead on who made the phone call from the supermarket." Sam said as Gene drove off.
"What, it wasn't Morgan?" Gene asked confused.
"No, the desk sergeant confirmed it wasn't him, which means we've still got one of Morgan's men floating about."
Gene parked up as untidily as he dared outside the main entrance of the car park.
"We traced the phone number to this call box outside." Sam said waving his good arm at it. "It wasn't easy as it gave no caller ID. So one lucky member of the forensics team was given the call times made from all the phones in the area and worked it out."
"So what are we hear for?" Gene asked.
"CCTV footage." Sam said as they walked into the shop and headed for the office.
"Ok, ok, that's the second time I've heard about this CCTV bollocks, could you please enlighten me?" Gene demanded.
"Close, circuit, television." Sam breathed, "It's a video camera that records things for security purposes."
"Have you ever read 1984?" Gene asked before Sam knocked on the office door.
"Yeah, but I'm more of a Dan Brown man." Sam replied before the door opened.
"CID love." Gene said raising his police badge to the lady who opened the door; she gave a nod before the detectives walked in.
"You recognise that man love?" Gene asked, pointing at the frozen image on a TV screen.
"Not sure. May 'ave." The woman said airily, and Gene sighed.
"Well, we've got a picture." Sam said, "Could we take this as evidence?" Sam asked and the lady shrugged.
"Guess so."
Gene sighed again,
If this skirt was any colder she'd be a snowman.
"Door to door?" Gene asked.
"Oh yes." Sam replied and Gene realised he had no more air to sigh with.
Later on, the detectives found themselves in the Railway Arms, feeling no better despite the fractional move forward in the case.
"Mine's a pint and a whiskey chaser." Gene said before turning to Sam, "Guv'?"
"Same." Sam replied and Gene raised an eyebrow.
"Fine, but you can buy your own bloody chaser." Gene said handing over the money for two pints and his chaser to Nicola.
"Cheers pet." She said to Gene as she began pulling the pints. "How's the arm Sam?" Nicola asked as she put the first of the pints on the bar.
"Better ta." Sam said getting to the lone pint before Gene did.
The pair moved to sit in a snug in the corner, as far away as they could from the noisy television set.
"Bloody United." Gene muttered, glancing at the TV. Sam cocked an eyebrow and Gene continued, "Me, I'm a City fan."
"Oh, well I won't hold it against you. I haven't seen United play since I was, well, before m' dad left."
"I took you as a United fan." Gene muttered gruffly, ignoring Sam's comment about Vic Tyler.
"Slow week for crime hay Sammy-boy." Gene commented after his third pint.
"Well, a know it's wrong to think of it, but we'd be outta job is they all go straight." Sam slurred, he too was on his third pint.
"They don't." Gene said loudly.
"Well, if they did." Sam said, laughing without knowing way.
"You've 'ad too much to drink."
"True." Sam said, before downing the dregs of his pint glass.
"DI Hunt." Said into his desk telephone with a voice like sandpaper. Last night they really burnt the midnight oil, and from the look of things, drank most of it too. Both Sam and Gene where in a bad way.
"Hello, it's DI Alex Drake, we met a few weeks back in hospital." The woman one the end of the phone sounded far to jolly for Gene's taste that morning.
"Yeah, what you want?" Gene said disjointedly.
"I was wondering whether we could have a chat, y'see DCI Tyler said you'd been suffering from amnesia and trauma and I'm writing this report y'see." Alex continued.
"If you're asking me t'be a guniea pig,I'm sorry but I have a job to do." Gene replied before hanging up swiftly.
What a nightmare it would be to work with her
Sorry this chapter's been a bit (ok, very) slow, but I thought I'd get in some honest policing.
Next chapter is going to be extra long, but I should have it up quite soon. Stay tuned.
Comments, as always, greatly received. Good, bad or ugly I'll read them all and take 'em on board.
(Ok, yes, before you do all say it, that was by no means my best piece of writing within the fic, I promise, next chapter will, will, be better).