Disclaimer: I didn't get what I really wanted for Christmas – ownership of The Bill – therefore nothing here is mine. Wah.

A/N: Happy New Year! New year, same story line. Enjoy…

Chapter Six;
St. Hugh's

Nicholas Delaney was fine. It was news that had hit Max's ears five minutes after he walked into St Hugh's after the child. He was an epileptic, a disease that caused him to suffer small seizures under moments of heightened stress, and something Max should have been aware of. He did wear a small silver necklace to warn people of it. But Max covered his ignorance of the condition with a shrug and the words 'it wasn't that stressful', an excuse that had left the duty nurse frowning before allowing him to see the boy. He wasn't alone, the blonde Social Services girl Sara at his side. She frowned softly at Max as he stepped around the curtain, glancing at Roger who had accompanied the boy to the hospital.

When Max had called for an ambulance Roger had walked in and immediately put the boy into the recovery position, himself aware of young Nicholas' condition. Of course this was because Roger had done the one thing Max hadn't – paid the boy, and not just his information, some heed.

As Roger confirmed the boy would be fine and that Max really should finish that report on what had happened, Max decided to take his leave, deeming Sara's dirty look reason enough. If looks could kill…

Passing through the ward he stopped as he heard a familiar voice arguing with a nurse.

"No, get off me, I'm fine," Max raised a solitary eyebrow, pausing just outside the curtain. He heard the nurse groan. "Just get out of here. Bloody incompetent NHS staff."

With a pout etched to her lips an older brunette woman pushed back the curtains and stormed out. Max sneaked a glance through the curtains and noted the man. Just who he thought he was. He followed the nurse. "Nurse, about your patient in Bed 14?"

"Mr. Lloyd is clearly a man of the private health system, at which point he should return to it." She vented, not hiding her anger at the insufferable creature she'd just dealt with. Max felt her pain.

"Yeah, uh, DS Carter, Sun Hill," he flashed the badge but she paid it no mind. "Look, what's he in for?"

"Concussion, broken leg, fractured wrist. Why? Is this a criminal investigation now? He told me he'd just fallen down some stairs."

Max shook his head. "Not yet. Thank you." Heading out to the front waiting room he withdrew his phone and called Stuart. Stuart picked up with a 'what do you want Max?', but the tone was jocular. "I have a friend of ours here you might want to talk to."

"Who?"

"You'll see, let's just say his attack is probably related and definitely not before his time."

Stuart paused then Max could hear him frown. "Hold up, you're handing the investigation over to me for once? Really, for a while there I thought you were taking the newspaper report seriously and had actually appointed yourself SIO."

"Funny," Max replied, completely deadpan. "I have paperwork to finish on the boy. I think we can kiss out ID parade goodbye."

"If I didn't know any better Max I'd say the incident with young Mr. Delaney actually hurt." Max said nothing so Stuart jumped to a conclusion. "Oh ho, I'm right, it did! Call the BBC – Max Carter is going soft in his old ag…" Max shut out the tone by snapping his phone closed.

*

The curtains around the bed were drawn back with a flourish and the occupant looked up with wide eyes at the duo looking down at him. "Mr. Holman." Stuart smiled. "Or is it Mr. Lloyd now?" he asked, motioning to the name above the bed.

Ben groaned. "Would you lot please leave me alone? I helped you out okay, now get out of my life, I haven't done anything wrong."

"This may shock you Mr. Holman but we're not here regarding your club. We're actually wondering how it came to be that you sustained a concussion, a broken leg and a fractured hand. No, don't tell me, you tripped over your perfectly clean record?"

"Yeah, I fell, okay?"

Stuart snorted. "Where did you fall off Mr. Holman? Big Ben?" He narrowed his eyes, taking a seat beside Holman on his crinkled white hospital sheets. They were so stiff they actually groaned under the pressure. "Now, if you'll kindly tell me the truth."

After about two minutes of silence, which Holman spent staring at his fingernails with belied interest, he finally coughed. "I was clearing out the back storeroom when someone hit me from behind with something." Stuart nodded for him to continue. "Didn't knock me out but put my vision out of whack. Then this guy starts cracking me on the leg. I put my arm up to defend myself and so my hand goes and the next moment I wake up in the back of an ambulance."

Stuart noted it down in his notebook quickly. "Okay, when was this?"

"About twelve-ish maybe?"

"And you couldn't identify him?"

"It was a bloke, I could tell from the power in the hits, but I couldn't see him and he didn't speak."

Stuart nodded to Stevie who ducked off to ring the station for someone to get down to the club and get some CCTV. "Now, I'm going to assume you don't have any enemies, being as clean cut as you are." A superior smile covered Stuart's face as Holman looked away. "But anyone stand out to you as who would want to do this? Any angry ex-customers?"

Holman nodded. "Just one. No idea who he was or why he did it, but there's one person I can think of who could be behind this."

*

"… mhm, yeah sure sarge, okay." Millie hung up, glancing up at the figure entering the room. "How's the kid?"

Max shrugged. "Fine." He paused at her desk. "Holman was at the hospital looking like someone got to him with a two-by-four."

"I know. Stuart called and told me to find the kid from two weeks ago, the one who trashed his club."

Max frowned, the name coming to him slowly. "He was Belgian. Yonelli or something like that." Millie brought the case up on the computer and scanned through the details, her finger pressed to the screen. Max was a faster reader and got to the name first. "Yanletti. Close enough." He headed back towards his desk. "Chase him up, immigration or something. Find an address."

Millie scowled at the computer. "Report is only half-finished. Whoever put it into the system didn't finish the j…" she stopped, catching herself, and Max looked at her with a frown.

"What?" Millie shook her head staunchly, closing the screen and bringing up a new screen to access addresses of Canley citizens. It was essentially a large telephone directory on the computer. But Max's interest was piqued and he pushed. "What? Who put the report in?"

Millie slumped. "You did sarge."

Max frowned then turned back to the pile of papers on his desk. In his 'out' collection he finally came across the statement. "Here we go. 14A Lavender Cres', Canley." He grabbed his coat and glanced at Millie as he passed her desk. "Well, coming?"

Not meeting his eyes Millie nodded. "Yes sarge."