The next day, Dan felt slightly better as he made his way into the office. The questions that had plagued him last night took a back seat as he pushed open the double doors of CID; instead he resolved to concentrate fully on the investigation, as it was imperative that Scott was found sooner rather than later.
He felt the familiar surge of adrenaline as he addressed the team before him, determined that this lead would be of great importance in finding his DC.
"Right," he began, tapping the whiteboard behind him. "Last night we received the description of a man last seen talking to our missing colleague. I need as many people as possible on hand to ring 'round, get anymore information we can; a name would be very useful!"
"What's the man's description sir?" Allan questioned, already beginning to rise from his seat. It wasn't often that he would get up off his chair unless directly asked to do something, so the impact on the team at the abduction of Woodall was obvious.
"Right. Middle height, curly mousey brown hair, glasses and a mole near his right eye." Dan accompanied each word by writing it on the whiteboard, punctuating the final word with a flourishing underline at the end.
Lyn leapt to her immediately to her feet and dashed out of the room to find out more information about the man under suspicion.
"Me and the Guv are gonna go and visit Scott's boyfriend again, see if he knows anything about this man," Dan nodded towards his DCI, who'd just left his office, and grabbed his coat off his chair. "I hope to find some sort of progress when we get back!"
Dan's final statement was greeted by mumbles of assent and reassurances that they'd have more information by the time their superiors returned to the office.
"Oversee 'em all won't you Allan?" Gene turned to his DS, receiving a nod in reply.
"Yes Guv."
Dan paused outside the house that they had now visited twice in two days, praying that the next time they wound up on the doorstep it wouldn't be bad news they were bringing. He knocked again and glanced to the side briefly to see his DCI looking more confident than the last time they were here.
"Let's just see what we can find out Danny Boy-" was all Gene had time to say before the door opened tentatively and Harry Tomlinson greeted them with a worried and extremely brief smile.
"Hi again Harry," Dan smiled quickly before resuming his sombre look and shaking the young man's hand. "We've just got a couple of things to run by you, if we're not disturbing anything."
"Not at all, that's fine," spoke quietly, opening the door fully and stepping further back into the hallway. "Come in officers."
When the three of them had settled down into the familiarly quaint armchairs and Harry had made them each a mug of tea, Dan began to speak:
"How are feeling Harry? Are you coping alright?" he looked at younger man, noticing how pale and drawn he looked; the bags under his eyes belied his years.
"'m alright I 'spose," he muttered. "As good as can be expected anyway... I half keep expecting him to just turn up on the doorstep, right as rain, and tell me he'd just stayed at a friend's house..." Harry trailed off, wistfulness mingled with sadness in his deep blue eyes.
Dan gave a small apologetic smile, looking down into his lap briefly. He couldn't forget the words etched into Scott's warrant card and shivered slightly, knowing that Harry's dream wasn't going to come true. Gene shifted uncomfortably next to him, and Dan knew that he was remembering the threat carved into the leather like himself.
Dan simply nodded, knowing that no words were needed; Harry didn't truly believe what he'd said, he was just trying to stay positive, keep his partner's memory fresh in his mind in case the worst happened.
Instead he began again, resuming the role of DI: "We visited The Spandex Ballet last night, undercover, to see if we could find out anything that might possibly give us a lead in this investigation."
"Did you?" Harry interrupted, before Dan could say anything else.
"The barman gave us a description of a man," Gene informed him gruffly, his mind still hazy from the night before and his head pounding. "Said he talked to Woodall after he got your call..." he trailed off, shaking his head slightly to attempt to clear the mugginess and taking a large sip of tea, hoping that might allow him to concentrate on the investigation and get him through the morning.
"Description?" Harry exclaimed excitedly. "What did he say he looked like?" he questioned, turning to Dan for the answer.
"He was middle height, had curly mousey brown hair, glasses and a mole near his right eye," Dan reeled off, having spent last night memorising it. "Do you know of him?" he trailed off, noting the look of horror on Harry's face.
"Yes, I think I do..." he paused for breath, before steeling himself and continuing. "I think his name's Smythe… Dick Smythe, that was it... He, he was Scott's ex-boyfriend..." he explained, glancing at Dan who was busy scribbling everything down in his notepad. "Scott didn't say much about him really... He said that it ended on bad terms, that when he finished it, Dick spiralled out of control. He was angry at first, then confused, depressed... And then he went mad, insane..." Harry stopped for a moment, shivering slightly. "Scott told me that he was very vulnerable before they got together and that he was emotionally unstable when they were... I mean, it was years and years ago this... Surely if he wanted to hurt Scott he would have done it sooner?"
Dan thought about it for a moment, attempting to consider the psychological aspects of the situation, but giving up quickly: he'd never been very good at that sort of thing; preferring aggressive questioning and just getting answers from the scum; they were criminals, things to be brought down and locked up, not to be reasoned with and helped to come to an understanding. That's what he admired about Gene.
"I don't know Harry," he sighed sadly. "I really don't. But this is the only lead we have, and, let's face it; it does sound more likely to be him, rather than anyone else in the bar."
Harry nodded despondently. "I 'spose he does seem the sort that'd do that: Emotional, violent, seemingly psychopathic... Scott did say once, when we were talking 'bout our previous relationships, that Dick seemed quite scary sometimes. That he was a very intense person... But I never thought he might do something like this... And to my Scott as well. Bless him, he'd never hurt a fly. He doesn't deserve this..." Harry trailed off with a small sob.
Dan and Gene got to their feet slowly a few minutes later, having allowed Harry time to compose himself.
"If we find out anything further, we'll let you know," Gene nodded, and Dan was surprised to see that his boss' expression was almost tender as he shook the distraught young man's hand.
Dan nodded his agreement and gave a brief smile as he stepped out of the house and into the street, when he had a brief flash of déjà vu. He felt the familiar stabbing pain in his neck and struggled with the sensation of falling forwards uncontrollably. He righted himself with a jolt and was glad to find that neither his DCI nor Harry had noticed anything was amiss and so followed the former as he lead the way to the Merc, rubbing his neck slightly.
"Thank you for everything officers," Harry called after the retreating pair, smiling slightly as Dan turned around and gave a small wave in acknowledgement and Gene just continued striding to his car. "I love you Scott..." he murmured quietly, the words hanging stiffly in the air, unanswered. "Wherever you are, please try and come back to me safely..."
The assembled members of CID looked up quickly from their files and telephones as the double doors opened violently and closed behind the entrants; Dan slightly ahead of Gene. The latter strode into his office in a practised move, nodding briefly towards Dan before he closed the door.
Dan moved towards the whiteboard where various notes were tacked around the words penned on to the surface. Mentally steeling himself for the task that lay ahead, he turned to face the expectant faces that had followed his progress across the room.
"We talked to DC Woodall's partner and he had a match for the person we're searching for," Dan told them briskly. "He's Scott's ex-boyfriend, name Dick Smythe."
"I'll get on to that," Lyn spoke up, before leaving the room again.
Dan watched her go before turning to the rest of the team. "We need to find this man. History, record, and most desperately: Location. We need to find our DC," Dan urged. "And soon... According to Harry Tomlinson, Smythe is a psychopath, emotionally deranged... He's capable of anything. We need to nail him, and fast."
The group nodded as a whole, then moved off separately to complete their investigations and carry out further in-depth research. DS Lloyd moved over to Dan.
"Um, DI Hartley," he cleared his throat nervously as Dan turned to him. "What if... What if we're too late?"
Dan suddenly looked very pale, almost as if he was about to throw up. "Allan," he said, as softly as he could manage. "We've got to stay positive, for Scott, okay? I know it's difficult, losing a colleague in any circumstance, but the team has to pull together, we have to pull together for Scott, he's relying on us."
"I-I know sir, but..."
"But for now we need to concentrate on finding our suspect, and therefore hopefully, our DC, okay?"
Allan nodded despondently, murmuring a "yes sir", before moving over to one of the phones at the back of the office, attempting to clear thoughts of Scott in horrible situations from his mind.
Dan shook his head almost imperceptibly, watching his DS move sadly across the room. It struck him then that he and Scott were probably quite good friends; what with working with each other day in and day out and going to the local pub every night after work; the whole team were most likely extremely close. Dan realised that the older man was falling apart at the sudden loss of his best mate, and the imminent prospect of maybe never seeing him again if the investigation went horribly wrong.
He was interrupted from his reverie by the double doors swinging open again and Lyn hurrying through, clutching a piece of paper tightly in her hands.
"I've found him!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Flat 3b, third floor, Winchester Road, down by the docks." She handed Dan the scrap of paper so he could confirm it for himself.
"He's still in his own flat?" Allan questioned surprised, having read the information over Dan's shoulder.
"He's obviously not very intelligent," Dan remarked dryly and turned towards his DCI's office as the man himself strode out.
"Come on then Danny Boy, let's bring him down."
Dan nodded, swiftly grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair and following Gene out of the office.
Winchester Road was extremely quiet as Dan and Gene made their way to the staircase leading to the upper floors of the flats in question.
The two men exchanged determined glances before Dan knocked on the door, followed by the customary "Police, open up!"
To neither man's surprise, no sound emitted from the poky flat, and everything around them became oddly stiff. Just as the silence began to get stifling, Dan rapped his knuckles against the wood of the door for the second time, yet again followed by the traditional speech and an added "DCI Hunt and DI Hartley." Yet again, the silence fell around them and no movement could be sensed.
As Dan caught Gene's eye, he noticed a glint settle there and, despite the situation, he found himself grinning.
He motioned to the door with his head. "Shall we?"
"You can do the honours," Gene grunted. "Seeing as it's yer first time with us."
Dan nodded, and steeling himself, he pushed up against the door, feeling the wood buckle under the force of the impact. Following the slight cracking of the lock as it tugged against the nails holding it to the doorframe, Dan swore he could hear a muffled noise coming from inside the flat that sounded suspiciously like "Dan."
He paused for a moment, and noting the frozen position of his boss, Dan deduced that he didn't actually imagine the cry and therefore rammed into the door with a renewed determination.
At the third blow, the door finally buckled under his weight and the wood swung off its hinges to reveal the room within.