In an interview room with DI Chandler's knowledge and the cameras turned off, Ronnie Brooks took a deep and long-suffering breath before speaking to the young man he called Arthur, he didn't bother with the 'Prince' part because everyone knew that was just stupid - Prince (or King) Arthur didn't exist and definitely not in this day and age!
At the moment, his new charge was carefully examining every inch of the interview room, fascinated by everything from the metal-and-plastic table and chairs to the recording machine set in the corner of the room.
"So, you're telling me that Camelot does not exist?" scoffed Arthur, "then that would mean I don't exist."
Ronnie fought the urge to nod his head in agreement and concentrated on the matter at hand.
"Look, I'll show you but first you've got to lose the sword and armour. People don't use them things anymore – it would just make them nervous." The detective knew there was no way of keeping anything discreet with Arthur charging about in medieval costume – it had been bad enough just trying to get him the few hundred metres or so to the station from the café. Between members of the public staring and laughing and Arthur constantly stopping to question the clothes and shops and cars around him, Ronnie had seriously considered drinking again.
Arthur scowled. "So what do people use for protection instead?"
"We have new, more, uh, advanced stuff. Look, I'm the law around here – at least, I'm part of it and what I say goes. Got that?" The older man reached down and lifted onto the table a plastic bag in which he drew out a pair of jeans, T-shirt and sweatshirt (all acquired from a mate at the lost property desk). "Here, put these on, you'll attract less attention."
The sooner Ronnie got his boy Mattie back, the better!
Merlin was sitting in Gaius's little apothecary with the physician and his unexpected new arrival. Matt twiddled his thumbs a little nervously – it wasn't everyday that you were transported from an unassuming London doorway to a big old castle that was only supposed to be mythical. Half of him still believed that it was some elaborate joke being played on him but he couldn't deny that there wasn't anything very funny about his current situation.
He had got Merlin to take him outside of the castle walls, out of the lower town and over the drawbridge. He figured that once he got past the high walls, he would leave whatever crazy set he had been put onto and London would appear just how he knew it – loud, busy, noisy and full of the technology that was part of normal life. Disappointingly, what he saw instead was miles and miles of green nothingness instead of lots of lovely grey concrete and shining glass.
He had a lightbulb moment. That was it! Technology! He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his mobile phone and slid open the screen, watching it with an air of expectancy. Matt's face fell as the screen showed – nothing, it was utterly, completely blank.
"But I only just charged the battery!" he exclaimed in consternation. He looked over at Merlin and Gaius. How on earth can magic be possible but not electricity?
The two residents of Camelot looked at each other and shrugged. They'd never heard of a battery.
"Matt," began Gaius, "Merlin tells me that you are, erm, far from home?"
"Very far," stated Matt bluntly. "Look, I've already told him that I've no idea what happened or how I got here!" He puffed his cheeks out in frustration.
The detective wondered if this was how all the innocent suspects he had ever interviewed felt – to be completely exasperated at having to answer the same questions over and over again to the same people and feeling like you were getting nowhere.
Gaius leaned further towards the newcomer and his eyebrow raised seriously as he asked in a hushed tone, "Would you believe that magic brought you here?"
Matt sighed resignedly. "At the moment, I'd believe anything, why not magic?" He had lost track of time and he glanced down at his watch before rolling his eyes. Of course, it had stopped – it ran on battery power. "Look, all I want to know is how I get back." He turned his attention to Merlin. "You said you're Merlin. Can't you just, you know, wiggle your fingers or something?"
"Um, well, it doesn't quite work like that. You see, I'm not sure what went wrong." Merlin cleared his throat anxiously. "Could I ask you not to mention magic to anyone else? It isn't, er, very well thought of here."
"But this is Camelot." Matt was incredulous.
"Yes, be that as it may, what the boy says is true. Magic is not looked upon favourably here."
Matt crossed his arms in front of him. "Alright, I won't say a word."
Gaius's expression relaxed. "Good, good. Now that's out of the way, we should get you blending in a bit more. Merlin, find some clothes for him. In the meantime, I shall try to enquire as to where Arthur might be although I suspect that we have exchanged him for our friend here. If that is the case, I shall have to make up something to tell Uther until we can retrieve Arthur."
As Gaius left, Matt scratched at his chin before asking, "How long have I been here now?"
Merlin looked up at the window and judged the fading light. "Several hours, it's getting near dusk now. You can stay here until we can sort this out, I'll get you a bedroll." The servant got up and made his way to the door and said just before he left, "Don't go anywhere."
Matt acknowledged the order with a small wave of his hand. What else am I supposed to do? He grimaced to himself as he pondered his situation. Think, Mattie, think. He racked his brains before settling for what he did best. He would approach this like he would any other investigation – the problem was, he didn't really have a crime scene, there were no reliable witnesses, in fact, the only witness he had seemed to be the person responsible for his predicament and he claimed it was through magic!
OK. The young detective began to pace the room as he thought. There were obviously not going to be any leads from his side of things as London apparently did not exist, at least not a London that he recognised. In any case, even if it did, he hadn't the foggiest how he would even get there from Camelot of all places! That left really only Merlin and whatever information he could give, besides, he was the key to the whole damn situation.
"What's this do?" asked Arthur as he watched Ronnie pick up the remote control and press a button. The prince jumped when the picture appeared and the sound came on.
"What manner of wizardry is this?" demanded Arthur. "Are you some kind of warlock?" He searched for his sword, forgetting that it was still in Ronnie's car.
Ronnie shuddered at the memory of the car journey. From accusations of witchcraft to the type of inquisitiveness found only in the most determined of children, Arthur had been keen to find out the 'whys' of how everything worked once Ronnie had patiently explained that it was not witchcraft but technology that made everything work in his world.
"Remember what I told you in the car about technology?"
Arthur nodded uncertainly. To be honest, he hadn't understood most of what Ronnie had said to him – he was much better at understanding things he could see and (most of the time) hit. Theories and machinery tended to make his brain go to sleep.
"Well, it's just more of that." Ronnie kept his answer as vague as possible – he would have to be a rocket scientist to keep up with his new charge. God, he was knackered and it wasn't even 8 o'clock. He went for his last-ditch attempt.
"Do you drink beer?"
Arthur nodded again.
"Thank goodness, let's go to the pub." Ronnie decided that he could stand to have a night out drinking orange juice if it meant that the odd young man would relax a bit. All he had to do was hope that Arthur could handle his drink.
Two pints and Arthur had indeed relaxed and he no longer looked so tense.
Three pints and he chatted more easily to Ronnie, asking the older man about himself and finding more about his new surroundings and the world he found himself in.
Four and five pints and he was talking about his own life and Ronnie was valiantly ignoring the peculiar looks that the other patrons of the pub sitting around them were giving them. Arthur had slouched further down in his chair.
"It's not easy being a prince, you know." Arthur's eyes had become a bit heavier and the alcohol was clearly having an effect on him. "People just expect you to know what to do and take charge. Father thinks that I want absolutely everything that he wants but he's wrong. Has he ever thought that I might not want to be king?"
He fixed bleary eyes on Ronnie who said a hesitant, "No?"
"That's right, he hasn't."
"Do you want to be king?"
"Well, yes, I suppose. I never thought that I wouldn't be." Arthur paused briefly as if he had never considered that before. Then he waved his half full glass at Ronnie. "But that's not the point." He slumped onto the table then. "I feel tired," he mumbled, his face buried in the crook of his elbow.
Ronnie shook his head resignedly. Although he had only just met Arthur a few hours ago, he couldn't help but like the younger man – he seemed to bring out his fatherly side in much the same way that Matt did.
However, the detective also realised that it would take someone with a softer, subtler side to draw Arthur out when he was sober. Time was of the essence to find Matt as all the traces they had put on him had brought up precisely zero results. It was time to bring out the big guns. Tomorrow, he would take Arthur to see Alesha Phillips.