With thanks to Firebird for her encyclopaedic knowledge of all things Manson ... & Lottilexi, if you are reading, just do it, everyone has to start somewhere.
-ooOoo-
"Yeah, it's good to see you too, Terry."
"Going to be around long?"
"Possibly. That really depends on how this Fleischmann case pans out."
"You mean how long it takes to find her?"
"Hmm, sort of," Neil replied evasively. "Look, I'll catch up with you later. You need to fill me in on how that daughter of yours is doing."
"Ha! Telling the instructors at Hendon how to do the job I think! But yeah, later Boss."
As Terry disappeared down the stairs, Neil became aware of a familiar scent edging past him from behind and towards the doors of CID. "Morning Grace."
"Morning," she smiled tightly, not quite meeting his eyes. She'd been determined to talk to him yesterday afternoon, but her journey back with Max from St Katharine's Dock on the other side of the city had been slow and laborious and by the time she was back at her desk, he was long gone. Instead she had been greeted with a smug smile from Suzie while explaining that he had a long-standing arrangement to see his son that evening. Nothing more volunteered but Grace was left with the definite impression that Suzie had more than casual knowledge of her boss's family affairs.
"Is Max in yet?"
"No, I don't think so. He's probably dropping PC Brown at the Fleischmann house," and probably giving the father a hard time, she added to herself.
"And giving the old man a going over at the same time, I expect," finished Neil for her. Grace blinked, startled by their almost identical thought patterns. "Don't worry, you don't have to say it. But I can," he murmured collaboratively while holding open the door for her to walk though first.
Grace's tight smile widened with warmth. She hadn't imagined their connection yesterday and the realisation filled her with a weirdly tingling feeling, which left her a little heady, if not almost skittish. Skittish? She wondered to herself. When on earth have I ever used the word, let alone felt skittish, but I do. And, I quite like it.
"So, how did you get on with Barsukov yesterday? Max did call but it sounded like a dead end."
"Maybe. Although there was something I wanted to ask you about. But you'd gone by the time we were back."
"Yeah. Long-standing arrangement with Jake to watch Chelsea getting beaten in the Champions League. One of those rare occasions where his pain was my joy," explained Neil with a twinkle. "Philippa took the opportunity to go out with Liam, he's an Arsenal support you see, so it's even worse for him to watch Chelsea play, although he would have enjoyed the result I suppose."
It was a little unsettling that his words echoed Susie's from the day before, but she quashed her disquiet. "That's very civilised of you all."
"Yeah well, Jake's more important than a pointless feud between his parents. We worked that out when he was ill. And anyway, they weren't in so it wasn't as if I had to spend any time with either of them."
"Even so, I'm impressed. Must be difficult."
Neil shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Only doing what's best for him," he muttered, unused to having his mothballed softer side exposed. Susie had been his sole support for so long now that he'd never really had to explain anything to her, the mechanics of his fractured family were just part of their day-to-day lives.
Grace fought the urge to prod further, to find out more about the man beneath the surface while she had this opportunity, but the murmur of voices milling around them grew louder, bodies filed past, ruining the brief quiet they had enjoyed. Regretfully she let him off the hook. "So, Barsukov."
"Yeah?"
Grace noticed he was visibly relieved to be back on less personal territory now that they were likely to be observed. "He didn't give anything away about David Austin or Carly, but when Max mentioned another name, he did look really surprised. He clearly recognised the name but as if he hadn't expected that we would know it. Not that I did and Max wouldn't explain afterwards."
"What name?"
"Antonov. Nikolai Antonov."
Neil rocked back a little on his feet, mulling over how to explain. "Fleischmann was sent down for his part in a smuggling operation about thirty years ago. Antonov was implicated but disappeared before the trial."
"Why would Max bring that up with Barsukov? Are they connected?"
"That's what Suzie has been working on. It's not obvious if they are, we're not even sure that Antonov is alive. She's still waiting to hear back from Interpol." Grace looked around, confused. Suzie was nowhere to be seen yet she was certain that Neil had only just arrived in the station. "Oh, she called me earlier, to remind me about a few things I have to do today," explained Neil, "she's like my personal organiser these days. Not sure how I'd manage without her," he laughed.
On cue, the door flew open. "No!" snapped an irate voice.
"Ah, now Suzie! You need to learn how to have some fun."
"I know how to have fun," retorted Suzie indignantly. The problem was that although she knew 'how' she didn't seem to actually 'do' fun anymore. Tackling the internal politics of Interpol yesterday evening had taken her well into the night at home, alone, with only her neighbours' cat for company. And the occasional message from Tommy to make her wonder what she was missing. Musing on her dilemma, she had concluded that while he might not be the solution, he might be an answer. If she dared. She was bored of living her life only for the job and propping up Neil in place of a real relationship for either of them, and she was lonely. Even the cat wasn't hers.
"But do you know how to have my sort of fun?" Tommy was in full flow banter now. If he tried this with Stevie, his ears would have been well and truly boxed by this point, or she would have taken him up on the offer and he'd be running in the opposite direction as fast as his elegantly shod size nines would carry him. But Suzie was different, a cold enigma, shut down. A challenge, and to his surprise, one he found he was determined to win.
"Guv!" Suzie called, a little more exuberantly than she had intended but relieved to be able to concentrate on something other than Tommy Leighton. "You're here. Oh, hello Grace," she continued, without any attempt at hiding her lack of interest in the older woman.
"Morning, Suzie. Tommy. Anything from Interpol yet?"
"Ugh! I spent half the night trying to convince Gerard Deguis to help."
"Did you use your usual charm?" asked Tommy. "Or did you ask nicely?"
Grace smothered a giggle. Suzie pursed her lips and resolutely tried to ignore the man standing next to her.
"He's in a meeting this morning but," she glanced at her watch, "should call within the hour or so."
"Excellent. Grace? Perhaps you could contact DI Carter and suggest that he gets in before then? In the meantime, I've got a coffee date, ahem ... strategy meeting ... with Superintendant Meadows." Only Grace saw the tiny wink he gave her as he turned and left the room.
-ooOoo-
Millie held the package by her fingertips. Eddie hadn't found anything useful on yesterday's delivery, but perhaps the sender might have slipped up and since there was precious little else to go on, straw clutching was their only chance. She studied the handwriting on the front, frowning. "It's not Carly's writing this time, but it is addressed to Georgie." Carefully she turned the package over but there was nothing more distinguishing to note.
"Come on. Let's get back inside."
"Do you think we should? Let Georgie open it, that is?"
Max took a deep breath. Whatever was inside wasn't likely to be good news, but it might be enough to persuade Georgie to get talking. "Yeah, he should. It's addressed to him."
Millie eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but nodded. As much as she wanted to avoid another scene with Georgie, he should at least be given the opportunity to open it and they would all have to deal with what was revealed. "Okay," she agreed with sad reluctance.
"Millie? Are you alright?" Her lips tightened but she couldn't quite stop them trembling. He moved in closer to tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear. "If you want to step down from here, I'll understand but you're doing everything anyone could expect. I know Georgie's giving you a hard time-"
Millie caught his hand and held it to her cheek, taking strength from him. She couldn't shake off the worry that there was something else motivating Max but she wanted to believe the concern in his eyes. Right now, she needed to believe in him. "I'm okay. All in a day's work, yeah? Come on, let's get this over with."
Hand in hand they walked up the steps, separating only at the door where their professional relationship had to take precedence over the personal. Georgie and Richard had returned to the kitchen, and together with Sondra watched their arrival with wary anticipation. All eyes were immediately drawn to the yellow package in Millie's hands which she placed gently on the table.
"Mum, could we have a pair of scissors please?" Millie asked quietly, donning the utilitarian purple gloves. "Georgie, I'm going to cut this open. There might be traces of evidence so please handle whatever is inside as little as possible."
"Is it from Carly?" he demanded urgently.
"It's not her writing, but it has been delivered in the same way as yesterday and well, it looks the same. So we have to assume that, it is from whoever has her."
Georgie nodded while Millie cut into the packet, opening it enough to allow a hand to slide inside. "You do it. Please," pleaded Georgie. Millie reached inside, first taking out a folded piece of paper. She read it, her brows furrowed and then handed it to Max to take by its edge. He scanned the words quickly before indicating to her to continue. She pulled out a small black box, perhaps big enough for a bangle or watch. She held it to her ear, but it was silent. There was no particular odour emanating and judging it to be safe, Millie opened the lid to look inside. She gasped loudly, struggling for her next breath and taking a stumbling step backwards with the shock. Max caught her, holding her tightly as she clutched the box fumbling with the lid to replace it. "Oh God!" Max gripped her tightly, keeping her on her feet until he could manoeuvre her into a chair.
"What? What is it?" cried Georgie "What's in the box?" his anguish increasing with each word. "Tell me!"
Despite being unwilling to break away from Millie, Max snatched up the box from her hands. If whatever was in it was enough to cause this reaction in Millie, it was likely to do a whole lot more to Georgie. He pulled the lid from the box and took a sharp intake of breath. Three fingertips, each garnished with a candy pink nail, flecked with gold, the bloodless flesh grey and decaying. There could be no doubt whose they were, her garish trademark colour scheme made it obvious enough, the tiny 'CF' initials on one nail were unnecessary for the purpose of identification. He felt Millie looking up at him intently and turned slightly to meet her gaze, as if begging him to tell her that she had imagined what she had just seen. With his attention diverted for the briefest of moments, he failed to notice Georgie lunging towards him and grabbing the open box from his grasp filling the room with an unholy howl, keening with a father's grief for his cruelly mutilated daughter. He fell back against the wall and slid to the floor, the box still cradled in his hands as he cried, tears streaking his cheeks. Max was there in an instant. He didn't want either Sondra or Richard to have to go through the same trauma as Millie if he could prevent it. Quickly Max replaced the lid on the box and took it from Georgie's shaking hands and with one hand at his elbow encouraged him to stand and sit on one of the sofas at the conservatory end of the kitchen. Max glanced back at Millie, silently asking her to join them. With Richard and Sondra in tow, they all waited for Georgie's wracking sobs to cease, for his near incoherent apologies to his daughter to subside.
"Georgie, there is a note. Are you ready?" Still shaking, Georgie nodded at Max. Sondra took his hand in hers and he seemed to take some comfort from her touch. Max unfolded the white paper, pausing for a moment to make sure he had Georgie's full attention. "It says, 'if you want the rest, it will cost £3 million'." Max waited for Richard and Sondra's joint gasps of astonishment to pass before continuing. "Georgie, don't you think you'd better tell us what the hell is going on?"