Chapter Eleven- Comfort Elsewhere
"You asked to see me, ma'am?"
"Yes, Robbie. Please, come in."
Detective Inspector Robbie Lewis walked into his superior's office and sat in the indicated chair.
"I just wanted to thank you in person for what you wrote," Innocent said.
"Wrote?"
"The sympathy card."
Lewis nodded. "Ah, yes."
"It was beautiful, Robbie. Absolutely beautiful."
He shrugged. "I've been there before."
"I was especially moved by the one passage, the part about feeling as though part of you had died as well. That's exactly how I feel."
Lewis fidgeted uncomfortably. Even after all these years, Val was still a painful subject with him.
"I just wanted to ask you something—since you seem to understand so well what I'm going through."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"How did you cope?"
A weighty silence overtook the pair of them. Robbie had known this question was coming and had dreaded it, but he still hadn't worked out a polite way of refusing to answer. He finally spoke, his voice faltering every so often as he tried to work through his emotions.
"You don't. Not really anyway."
Innocent's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
"I…" Lewis stared down at his hands. He took a deep breath and continued. "Did Strange ever tell you why I was sent to the Virgin Islands?"
"No, he didn't, but I've heard… rumours." The chief superintendent paused and reached up to touch her earring thoughtfully. "I chose to disregard them."
"You shouldn't have, ma'am. They were true." Robbie swallowed the lump that was slowly building in his throat. "Every day after… after I lost Val, I felt like I had to force myself out of bed in the morning. I thought that going back to work might help—I couldn't bring Val back, but there was still a lot that could… distract me. But all I found at work was more of what I found at home—death, despair, pain. I thought me children might help, but me daughter had her own life and career to think about. And … me son… well, by that time, he was halfway across the world."
He glanced up briefly and saw that Innocent was staring at him intently, her face a curious blend of understanding and pity. Lewis could not bear to meet her gaze for more than a moment so he looked down at his hands again.
"So, I sought comfort elsewhere. I drank every day until I forgot my sorrow for a time. Strange knew, but he chose to ignore it. He … he wasn't nearly as… involved as you are, ma'am."
Innocent smiled weakly. "So I've heard."
Robbie continued. "Eventually, Strange could no longer ignore it; it was affecting me work performance. So… he shipped me off to a place where I'd be out of his hair."
"Oh, Robbie! I didn't mean to…"
He raised up his hands in a placating gesture. "You asked a question, and I owe you an honest answer. You need to know what it feels like. I only hope that you don't feel so horribly lonely that you act as recklessly as I did."
"Was no one there for you?"
"Well, Lyn was always good about calling, but she was always so busy with school—and with her boyfriend."
"But there was no one else?"
"Well, Dr. Hobson was always good to me, now that I think about it. She'd sometimes stop by without a body prompting her visit—just to talk."
"I wonder if she had feelings for you even then.'
Robbie blushed slightly. "You'd have to take that up with Laura."
"I'm not sure that's the best idea. She … she seems to dislike me for some reason. I can't imagine why."
Robbie, of course, knew exactly why Laura disliked Jean, but he didn't really feel like explaining. Besides, he wasn't really sure that Innocent would believe him if he told her.
"I'm sure you're just imagining it. Of course, she likes you."
"Forgive me for not believing that. She certainly likes you, however."
"Yes," Robbie said, smiling happily. "I suppose she does."
"Are you happy, Robbie—with Dr. Hobson, I mean?"
"I… I am," Robbie said aloud. 'Or at least I was, before she got so bloody jealous' he added silently.
"I'm glad," Innocent said.
"Thank you. I hope someday you find a 'Dr. Hobson' of your own."
Innocent looked embarrassed. "Robbie, I'm not looking for…"
Robbie mentally cursed his own stupidity. Why did he always say the wrong thing—particularly when he was talking to women? Of course, Jean wouldn't be looking for someone to take her husband's place so soon after John Innocent's death.
"Oh, I understand. Right after Val died, the absolute last thing I wanted was to move on and look for someone else. I needed the time to grieve. But after awhile, I found someone that could make me happy again, and I didn't feel quite so alone any more. Maybe the same will happen to you. Just promise me: that however lonely you feel, you'll never look to Harvey Malcolm for comfort."
Jean snorted. "Believe me; I have absolutely no intention of ever doing that!"
Lewis felt nerves rising in him. This was the opening he needed. He knew that he'd have to get to the bottom of Innocent's relationship with the temporary superintendent, but after the way, Innocent had lashed out at James yesterday, Robbie was especially hesitant about prying further into the chief superintendent's sexual history. Eventually, he swallowed his pride and spoke.
"Er…, ma'am? What exactly is the story between you and Mr. Malcolm? James and I need to know—for your own safety as well as the sanctity of the case. I mean, Malcolm all-but-sexually harassed you in our presence yesterday, and all you did was give him a dirty look!"
Innocent rose from her seat and walked away from Robbie, keeping her eyes firmly planted on the floor.
"Harvey and I … we... were… 'involved' years ago when we both worked for Scotland Yard. And yes, it was forbidden then just as it would be now." She glanced back at Lewis. "I'm not proud of it."
Lewis's jaw dropped. The idea of his procedure-happy chief superintendent bending her precious rules to suit her own desires seemed utterly ridiculous—and yet, it did seem to tie in with Malcolm's comment about having once been " very good friends" with Innocent.
"Let me get this right. You and Malcolm were…?"
She nodded.
"But you're much too good for the likes of him!"
"Believe it or not—Harvey Malcolm can be quite charming when he really wants to be."
"I'm sorry, but I don'tbelieve it."
Innocent shrugged and then resumed her story. "One night, Harvey and I were at a party, and he introduced me to his friend and former neighbor: a Mr. John Innocent."
Lewis cocked a questioning eyebrow.
"Yes, Robbie. It was 'the' Mr. Innocent."
"Go on, ma'am."
"John and I… we really seemed to hit it off. So, later that week, Mr. Innocent called and asked me if I'd like to have dinner with him. I said yes."
"Bet Malcolm wasn't too happy about that."
"I… I didn't tell him. I wasn't sure of how he'd react. So anyway, I met Mr. Innocent for dinner. Once again, I was struck by how well we got along. To be perfectly honest, I was starting to get a bit fed up with my arrangement with Harvey. I did care about him, but I still felt terrible about breaking the rules the way we were. For Harvey, it was a thrill, but for me… well," she gestured at Robbie. "You know from experience how important professional behavior is to me."
He smiled wryly at her. "That I do, Ma'am."
She continued. "When I met John, I knew right away that I had found someone that I could feel attracted to—possibly even love—without feeling guilty or having to hide anything. The security he offered made Mr. Innocent even more appealing to me than he already was. Therefore, I ended my relationship with Harvey and continued to see John."
"How did Malcolm take the news?"
"As you can believe, he was furious. I don't think he ever got over it."
"What do you mean?" Robbie asked, wondering if it was possible that he had uncovered another suspect in Mr. Innocent's demise.
"Well, at first, he was in denial. He flatly refused to believe that relationship was over. He seemed to believe that I was using John in an attempt to make him jealous. Eventually, Harvey caught on to the truth, but that didn't stop him from attempting to rekindle our relationship. Harvey's inability to leave the past behind him was what ultimately clued me into the fact that I had made the right decision by choosing John. When Malcolm finally realized that his professions of undying love were falling on deaf ears, he became a bit more forceful in expressing his desires. He began to… pressure me."
"Pressure you—how exactly?"
"Use your imagination, Robbie." Seeing the look of extreme distaste on the inspector's face, Jean continued. "Thanks to a little ingenuity and a lot of pepper spray, I was able to hold him off for awhile. Eventually, he got to be a bit too much for me to handle. I requested a transfer and ended up here, but Malcolm still wouldn't leave me alone. He'd just show up in Oxford unexpectedly every so often to try to persuade me to come back to him."
"Why didn't you report him?"
"Call me a coward if you like, but I was saving my own neck."
"Really? I mean… I'll admit entering into a romantic relationship with one of your colleagues was a bit…dodgy of you, but Malcolm's behavior was so much worse. I 'd have thought that everyone would've been on your side."
"There's more to it. My relationship with Harvey Malcolm lasted for a very long time. At its inception, I was a sergeant and he was an inspector. And no, Robbie—Malcolm was not myinspector. I would never have let myself get involved in something thatunsavoury. Anyway, about a year-and-a-half into my 'secret relationship' with Malcolm, I received an unexpected promotion. I was quite bemused at that—for I had only been a sergeant for a few short years. I would later learn that Harvey had pulled a few strings to ensure that I was the one who received the newly vacant inspector's post. I can personally assure you that I never asked or expected Malcolm to do any of this. But …can you see how this might've looked to the chief constable?"
Lewis nodded. "I can, ma'am."
"It didn't help that I was quite unpopular at Scotland Yard."
"Well, ma'am, you're quite popular here. Sure, you maydrive us to the brink of madness sometimes, but we know that—deep down—you really care about us. You've always got our backs so I think it's fair to remind you that we've always got yours."
Innocent gave a tentative smile. "Thank you."
He rose from his seat and turned to go, but her voice stopped him.
"Robbie, looking back, I realize that asking you about your wife was a very poor choice on my part. My behavior was quite selfish; I only cared about purging my own grief and didn't give a second thought to your feelings. I guess I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."
He glanced back at her in genuine surprise, shocked that—for once in her life—Innocent was freely apologizing for something she'd done. He looked at her face and noticed a tiny glint beside her left eye. Robbie knew it must have been a trick of the light—for the alternative seemed inconceivable. Jean Innocent couldn't be crying. She wasn't the sensitive, sentimental type that drowned all of her sorrows in a flood of tears; she was a strong, sophisticated woman who held her head high even when the world was collapsing around her.
Lewis took another step toward the chief superintendent and realized that he could no longer deny the evidence that was right in front of him. Yes, Jean Innocent wasstubborn, reserved, and tough, but she was also human.
He walked over to her and gently tilted her chin upward. "I know that it's difficult, ma'am, but you'll be alright. It just takes time."
She didn't say anything but merely looked at him curiously.
"Trust me."
"I do, but it's just so hard," Jean said. She finally stopped trying to repress her tears, and they fell openly, cascading gracefully down her cheeks.
Although he'd never have admitted it to anyone, Detective Inspector Robbie Lewis had always had a profound weakness for women's tears. Whenever his children had fought, he'd always taken Lyn's side. It wasn't that he had always believed that she was in the right or (as his son had suspected) that Lewis had loved his daughter more. He simply couldn't bear to see her—or any other female—cry. The fact that the woman crying in front of him now was his seemingly-invincible boss made Lewis feel even more uncomfortable.
He drew Innocent to him and let her sob into his shoulder as he patted her awkwardly on the back.
"I know, I know. It's the hardest thing that I had to go through, but I survived. And you will too."
Her tears slowed a bit, and Robbie stood there, trying to think of something to say that might further reassure her. Finally something came to him.
"Just promise me that you'll remember that you'll remember that you're not alone, Jean. There are plenty of people who care about you. You know that I do. And anytime you need me, I'll be right here."
Someone cleared their throat loudly behind them. As though of one mind, Lewis and Innocent broke apart and spun around. Laura Hobson had entered the room so quietly that neither of them had previously been aware of her presence. Hobson stared at both of them, a betrayed look on her lovely face.
"Laura, this isn't … what it looks like. She…"
Hobson gave a cold laugh. "Oh, I think that this is exactly what it looks like. Funnily enough, I seem to remember someone saying that Jean Innocent wasn't his type. Oh, how the tables have turned!"
"Dr. Hobson, if you'll let me explain. Inspector Lewis was just… you see… I was crying… and he…"
Laura shot Jean a look that clearly said something along the lines of "If you come within a foot of Robbie Lewis again, I'll give you something to cry about!"
"I was just trying to comfort her, Laura. Nothing happened, I swear it!"
"I don't want to listen to either of your excuses. Here's the post-mortem report on Mrs. Harrigan that you requested, Jean." Hobson handed Innocent a stack of papers and bolted from the room, slamming the door behind her.
"Well, that didn't go well," Innocent muttered once Hobson had gone.
"On the contrary, that was almost an improvement from the way she was last night."
"I can just imagine. I'm very sorry, Robbie. It was not my intent to make trouble."
"I know."
"I could try talking to Dr. Hobson for you. I'll place all of the blame on me, you needn't worry."
"No offense, ma'am, but I doubt Laura will put much stock in anything you say."
Innocent bit her lip in thought. "You're probably right. It's very clear that—despite what you may say to the contrary—Laura Hobson heartily dislikes me. I suppose this also leaves me without a place to stay."
"You can always stay with me, ma'am."
She sighed. "That's very sweet of you, Robbie, but can't you see that that would just make everything worse for you and Laura?"
"Oh, I …er… I hadn't thought of that."
"I suppose I'll just have to ask your sergeant. I doubt he'll be very keen on the idea—neither am I, come to think of it. But when you consider that my other prospect is Malcolm…"
"I'm sure Hathaway will understand, ma'am."
A knock sounded at the door, and the voice of the chief superintendent's secretary spoke.
"Ma'am, a package has just arrived for you."
"Bring it in, Camille."
The secretary walked into the room, carrying a large box, which she placed on Innocent's desk. She then left the room. The chief superintendent carefully opened the box and withdrew a stack of papers. Her face took on a bewildered expression.
"What is it, ma'am?"
"Well, I think these are funeral invitations, but I don't recall placing an order."
"That's odd."
"It certainly is."
Innocent continued to look at the invitations. Suddenly, she let out an odd little gasp.
"What's wrong, ma'am?" Lewis asked, concerned at how pale the chief superintendent had become in only a few seconds.
"It must be a mistake," Jean said, forcing a nervous laugh. "There's only a two-letter difference in the names anyway."
Lewis walked over to her.
"Let me see."
Innocent reluctantly handed him one of the invitations. Lewis read it until he found what he had expected to find. It was not John Innocent's funeral that the piece of paper that the piece of paper foretold; it was the funeral of Lewis's very-much-alive chief superintendent.