Chapter Six

2012

Torturous hours passed by. For Kim, time had never moved so slowly. She kept one eye on the clock as the sound of a phone bleeping provided the first distraction in a long time. Alex checked her phone and sighed.

"It's Molly," she said quietly, "she heard about the shooting on the news. She's worried about me." Her heart sank as the truth hit her – that she'd been on a quest to pass to another world and that she'd wanted to leave Molly behind to do so. The guilt flooded back like a tidal wave. What if she had taken the bullet instead of Robin? Oh, this was so hard. It didn't matter how deeply she knew that Gene needed her and that his world was where she belonged now, she knew she would never be completely free of the guilt.

As a serious-looking doctor entered Kim sat up straight and looked at him anxiously.

"Is there news?" she asked quickly.

The doctor approached her and nodded slowly.

"Robin's out of theatre now," he began seriously, "the god news is that we were able to remove the bullet, and we have repaired a lot of internal damage. He's lost a large amount of blood and the damage is significant. He suffered heart failure on the operating table but we were able to revive him again."

Kim felt herself starting to shake as every word scared her a little more.

"Is he going to make it?" she whispered.

"At the moment all I can say is that surviving surgery was the first step," the doctor told her, "we won't know his prognosis for a while. The next forty-eight hours of his recovery are critical. If he can make it through the next two days then the chances of his survival and recovery will start to improve. He's in good hands and being well monitored."

"When can I see him?" Kim asked quickly.

"You need to rest -"

"Bollocks, like I can rest knowing he's lying there alone," Kim snapped.

The doctor sighed.

"He needs to be under extremely close observation for the next few hours," he said, "someone will take you down to him in a couple of hour if he's deemed strong and stable enough. But you'll only have a few minutes."

Kim scowled, but a few minutes was better than nothing.

"Fine," she said, "you'd better not forget though, or I'll find my own way down."

The doctor looked a little anxious.

"Ahh, yes," he said, "I've heard about you." He'd been on alert since he discovered a warning in her medical records stating: "caution: this patient has been known to bite doctors when challenged".

Alex waited for the doctor to leave before she edged closer to Kim.

"He's made it past the first step," she said, "if he can survive that, he'll make it."

Kim wished that she had the same faith that Alex had that everything would work out alright, but her fear for Robin's life overtook her optimism. She feared that making it back would be one miracle too far.

~xXx~

1997

Robin stuck out his tongue as he walked past the kennels and waggled his foot in front of one of the dogs.

"Ha," he mocked, "clean socks. Smell 'em and weep, sucker!"

"Grrrrrr," the dog growled, clearly not appreciating Robin's tone.

Robin ignored the growling and carried on towards the station. His head was still in a scrambled mess. He found himself torn between the desperation of someone trapped in a world where they didn't belong and the joy and pride that Kim's news had brought him. He found himself giving occasional smug, sideways grins when he thought about it. He couldn't help it. Every now and then he stared at the ring on his finger and remembered Kim's other news for him. How the ring had made it over, he had no idea. He was just grateful that it had.

His eyes dipped as he saw Simon heading towards him. He wasn't sure he felt stable enough emotionally to handle more guilt right there and then. He breathed in deeply to try to keep himself composed as it became clear that Simon wanted to talk to him.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Hi," Simon said nervously. He shuffled uncomfortably and looked at Robin awkwardly. "I'm sorry," he said.

Robin bit his lip.

"What for?"

"Walking off last night," Simon told him, "I didn't handle that very well."

Robin looked down.

"I don't blame you," he said quietly, "I'd have done the same."

"Can we try again for that talk tonight?" Simon asked nervously.

"Are you ready for it?" Robin asked, "I understand if you need some more time."

"I think we need to get it out of the way," Simon told him.

Robin gave a slow nod.

"We do," he said quietly.

Simon had never felt this nervous or shy around Robin before. Not even when they first met, or when they ran into each other for the first time at work after losing touch for a while. There had never been any awkward silences between them before but they were abundant now.

"Are you still making the pizzas tonight?" he asked

Robin gave the slightest smile.

"If you're still happy for me to take over your kitchen," he said.

"Always, said Simon.

Another silence fell. Neither knew how to fill it. Just as both were starting to feel extremely awkward Robin finally said,

"Look, I'd better go and make sure none of the new dog handlers have been eaten by their animals yet. I'll see you later."

"OK," Simon said quietly. He watched Robin start to walk away before he called him back for a moment. "Oh, by the way, just to warn you, Gene might come after you with a notebook later."

Robin hesitated. He wanted to ask why, but at the same time he wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

"OK…" he said, just accepting the fact. Sometimes it was better not to ask.

~xXx~

Every inch of Victoria's body and soul screamed this is wrong as she walked conspicuously through the visiting room. Full of the least desirable members of the Fenchurch community, it wasn't a place she was used to being. If she needed to speak to a prisoner it was done behind closed doors. This went against everything she knew was right and well and truly conflicted with her morals.

And yet, there she was.

She saw Nailer's face across the crowd and made her way towards it. How come his smile was the friendliest she'd seen in months? That wasn't right. He was a criminal, locked away for a bloody good reason, and yet his smile and his eyes showed a warmth that she never found in those who were supposed to be on the right side of the law.

Nailer began to stand up as she approached but she held out her hand to stop him.

"No, don't stand up," she said, "I won't be here long."

Nailer hesitated. He looked a little disappointed, as though he'd been expecting such pleasantries as a peck on the cheek. He simply smiled and sat back down.

"I'm glad you came," he said, "I knew you would."

"I didn't," said Victoria, "believe me, no one's more surprised to find me here than I am." She hesitated, looking around as though checking to make sure Keats wasn't hiding under a table, about to spring her at any moment. "You have five minutes, Mister Nailer," she said.

Nailer stared at her. Her face was framed by flame-red hair and her lips bore a shade to match but inside a part of her was dying.

"Why do you stay at Fenchurch West?" he asked.

Victoria froze. That wasn't a question she was expecting.

"It's my job," she said, "although not for much longer if this gets out."

"It wouldn't hurt you to move on," said Nailer.

"I need the job," Victoria said tightly.

"Why? Because Jim tells you so?" Nailer asked. He sighed and looked down for a moment. "I've been worried about you."

Victoria frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Since the day you came to ask me questions about Billy Hocker," Nailer explained , "and your bosscame to drag you away. I don't care what letters you have in front of your name, you don't treat a lady like that."

Victoria made her face tough and stern.

"I can take care of myself," she said firmly.

"I don't doubt it," said Nailer, "I expect that's why you're here." He watched her look at him in confusion, "You knew it was in your best interests to hear what I have to say."

"You're wasting your five minutes," Victoria told him.

Nailer sighed. He shook his head.

"Listen," he began, "I know your boss. I know what he's like. The reason I worry about you is because I know what it's like to be screwed over by Jim Keats." He noticed Victoria's face growing increasingly concerned, not to mention curious. As much as she tried to hide it she couldn't pretend she wasn't interested in knowing what dirt Nailer had on the man who'd made her life a living hell from the moment she started work at Fenchurch West.

"I'm surprised he would mess with you," she said, "you don't work for him, you've got friends in high places and I'm fairly sure he doesn't find you attractive. No offence."

"None taken, just relieved," said Nailer.

Victoria waited for him to elaborate on his previous statement but he seemed to need prompting. Eventually she said,

"Five minutes isn't a very long time, Mister Nailer. If you want me to listen to your concerns about Arthur Layton then I'd start talking now."

"How about I fill you in about the Keats-man first?" Nailer suggested.

Victoria paused, biting her lip nervously.

"Alright," she said.

Nailer picked at the grain of the wood on the table in front of him. He sighed as he thought back to the events of fifteen months previously.

"Finally the law caught up with me," he said, "bloody lunatic CID from Fenchurch East. One of them pulled down my pants and sat on me until back-up arrived. I was on my way out of town, moving on, they caught me at the very last moment and unfortunately for them my insurance policy blew up a chunk of their station."

"What do you mean?" Victoria asked.

"Nice way of ensuring privacy," said Nailer, "a little explosive something in my computers. When the bomb went off all prisoners were transferred to Fenchurch West, which was where I met your friend Mister Keats."

"You seem to have a slightly different definition of the word 'friend' to me," Victoria told him.

Nailer leaned back. His body language was open, honest and natural, and not at all what Victoria was expecting. She found herself increasingly drawn to his manner, not to mention the smile.

"Jim came to talk to me," he said, "he had a proposition for me. He was going to let me escape just to cause a distraction while something else went down."

"Yeah, probably one of the young new recruits, on him," Victoria said spitefully.

"It seemed strange but that's the way life rolls so I just went with it," Nailer told her amiably, "he was happy to put me up in his house for a day or two until the heat was off. But a certain Mister Hunt tracked me down there and suddenly I was back inside." He sighed. "I know when I'm beaten. It had all been a bit of an adventure but that was enough. Damage limitation, my friend. That's what came next. And guess who came by with a helping hand and a kind offer?"

Victoria bristled. All at once the suspicions she'd had about Keats were being confirmed, ticked off like a list.

"I think I can make a general assumption," she said.

"I didn't want to lose my standing," Nailer admitted, "I knew my days ruling the roost were over but I wanted my business to stay operational. Not like I wanted to be destitute when I came out of prison. But more than that, I was proud of what I'd achieved."

"Well, who wouldn't be proud of a drug dealing empire," Victoria said sarcastically.

"I'm not like the other bigwigs, Vicky," said Nailer, "I have standards.

"Not enough to respect my wishes for you not to call me Vicky," Victoria scowled.

Nailer held up his hands.

"I'm sorry," he said, "just feels right for you. Maybe you remind me of someone."

"Of someone who will be leaving at any moment," Victoria said, checking her watch.

Nailer took a deep breath and hurried his story up a little.

"I ran a clean business," Nailer said, "I was always fair. I gave respect to earn respect. My drugs were clean and anyone who bought their stuff from my direct line knew what they were getting. My business colleagues were my friends. I worked hard. I didn't want to lose what I had achieved. And Mister Keats stepped in and offered me a way to do that."

"You trusted him?"

"I hadn't seen the other side of the man yet," said Nailer, "ninety nine percent of the time I am a great judge of character. The other one percent…" he sighed, "was meeting Jim Keats."

"Alright. So what did he offer?"

"For a fair wage he was going to take over the business side of my operations," Nailer explained, "keeping track of goods coming in and going out, paying my colleagues, he was my business manager, if you like."

"Why do I get the feeling there was a bit more to it than that?" Victoria raised her eyebrow.

Nailer nodded.

"He was also in charge of my sweep-up list," said Nailer.

Victoria looked at him incredulously.

"Why do I get the feeling this doesn't relate to keeping your carpets clean?" she asked.

"This is off the record," said Nailer.

"Well I'd hope so, I don't want any part of me being here on the record."

Nailer leaned forward slightly. He looked at Victoria with an intensity and honesty that she hadn't expected.

"There were certain individuals who were thought to have more influence over my prospective sentence than others," he began, "my not-so-legal team worked out who would be best removed from the equation. "

"This removal method," Victoria frowned, "I take it that involves a state of permanency?"

"Not necessarily," said Nailer, "People can be bought more readily than you'd think. Keats was supposed to be in charge of that list but he found himself gravitating more toward the permanency than the buying, and that wasn't what I wanted. Plus, after a very short time here were complaints from some of my men. Wage packets had been getting smaller. Inflation, Keats told them. Inflation of his own pockets, more like. I don't like it when I find someone's not playing fair, so I terminated our arrangement immediately."

Victoria stared at him for some time. She found herself fidgeting with the cuff of her jacket. Finally she said quietly,

"You rigged his car, didn't you?" she swallowed, "the car accident… the brakes were cut…"

"I didn't intend for my friends to take that particular course of action," Nailer held his palms out, "they took a fairly gangster meaning for 'terminate his contract'. Though after the way he'd let me down I didn't exactly fell sorry for the guy."

Victoria wished she could find it within herself to argue with that. Instead she straightened up and said,

"Arthur Layton."

Nailer sighed and leaned back, folding his arms.

"Ahh yes, criminal mastermind and all-round handsome fella," he said, his sarcasm coming to the fore.

Victoria chewed nervously in her finger nails.

"The tainted drugs," she said, "I presume you will have heard the latest."

Nailer frowned a little.

"Don't believe I've had the pleasure yet," he said, "what's he done now? Fallen in a vat of the white stuff and sneezed the whole of London into a high?"

Victoria shook her head.

"Thee dead overnight," she said, "a batch of tainted narcotics. I heard it on the news this morning. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

Nailer nodded.

"'Saw this and thought of you'…" he said.

Victoria looked at him seriously.

"Is this down to Layton again?" she decided not to wait for a response before she asked a follow-up question. "Why am I really here, Mister Nailer?"

"Nick," said Nailer.

"Mister Nailer," Victoria said again.

Nailer nodded and sighed. He supposed he should concentrate on dealing with the matter at hand rather than trying to charm the attractive detective.

"When Mister Keats left my service," he began, "my business started to fall apart. There was no one running the day to day side of things. Nothing keeping it together. I couldn't do it from in here, not without my man on the inside." He paused, "toad on the outside," he corrected.

"You really don't like him, do you?" Victoria commented.

"I like him well enough," said Nailer, "well, I did when he was comatose."

Victoria leaned forward a little.

"Layton," she prompted.

Nailer nodded.

"Layton was on my sweep-up list," he said, "he'd done me a little favour. He'd made a certain explosive item for me. I'd never wanted to cause any damage or to get anyone hurt, I just wanted a way to destroy my computer files. But Layton isn't a man of scruples and he'd have gladly sold me down the river for his own freedom or a few extra pennies. My not so legal team advised me to add him to my sweep up list. He was a priority. Nasty little piece of crud. Unfortunately this was another area in which your friend Mister Keats let me down. Despite reminding him several times to remove the weasel he couldn't be bothered. Kept assuring me business was dealt with when it obviously wasn't since I had eyes on the outside filling me in." he sighed, "but Layton was never swept away, he did a disappearing act for a while, I went to trial, got my sentence and here I am."

"What's that got to do with the drugs appearing now?"

Nailer started to look genuinely depressed.

"With no one running my business operations things became… confused," he said, "there were pretenders to the throne. Several young upstarts from my company tried to make out they were taking over. Billy Hocker for one. No one really knew what anyone else was doing, communication ceased and the whole network broke up. All my hard work, gone to the dogs."

"Maybe if you had chosen a more legal profession you would still be at the helm," Victoria raised an eyebrow.

"Nah, not the life for me," Nailer said amiably, "I know things went wrong in the end but it was the lifestyle for me." He paused to scratch his chin. "Unfortunately Mister Layton has a certain amount of inside information on my workings. He used this to take over some of my business, managed to convince some of my suppliers and my downline that he was my official replacement, that I'd put him in charge of running things while I was away." He looked at Victoria seriously. "I'd rather put the cast of Howard's Way in charge of things." He shook his head slowly. "Layton has no morals. No scruples. He's been cutting corners, mixing the stuff with god knows what, ripping off some of my most dearly valued colleagues of old. And because there's no one who can really explain what's going on, so many of them have been suckered into thinking I hand-picked him to take the reins in my absence. He's destroying not only what's left of my business and my reputation but half the population of the capital as well."

Victoria stared at Nailer. She thought over his words and looked at his open, genuine expression. Finally she said,

"If all of this is true then you need to contact your lawyer and speak officially to the police about what you know. If you have any concern at all for the bodies washing up full of poison then speak to your legal-legal team and make an official statement so that we can get Layton behind bars."

Nailer shook his head. He looked at Victoria.

"This is yours, Vicky," he said, "it's your call and it's your catch. You can do this one of two ways – you can take it the legal route, impress your colleagues with your amazing sources and reel in Layton. Take the credit you deserve at last and get out of that station from hell. Or, you can take the less-than-legal route."

Victoria moved back a little.

"I don't like the sound of that," she said.

"Deal with Layton for me. Track him down. You're a good detective and you're wasted in that place."

"How would you know if I'm a good detective or not?" Victoria asked.

"Because I'm a good judge of character," Nailer smiled, "well, ninety nine percent of the time."

"Yes, we already established the other one percent," Victoria found herself smiling and promptly stopped herself. She had to make sure she wasn't charmed by this man. He might have a silver tongue but he had a list of charges to his name as long as Keats's list of Wham memorabilia.

"Why don't you get out of that life, Vicky?" Nailer looked at her earnestly, "You might think you're on the right side of the law where you are but with Keats in charge that line's too fine to call. Work for me. Keep people like Layton out of my business. There's plenty of money available for someone with your skill. You could get out of Fenchurch West and away from that four-eyed twat for good."

Victoria stared at him. She tried to take in everything that she'd heard. There was a part of her that still didn't understand why she was there. A part of her that couldn't believe she'd gone in the first place. She took a deep breath and looked him right in the eye.

"Mister Nailer," she began quietly, "what you've told me is very serious. I recommend you contact your lawyer right away and arrange to speak to us about Layton on the record." She got to her feet and held out her hand. "Good day, Mister Nailer."

Nailer stared at her hand and then at her face. Her expression was taut and serious but her eyes reflected something else that she wouldn't let herself acknowledge. Slowly, he nodded. The disappointment was written all across his face.

"Thank you for coming," he said quietly. He stood up without shaking her hand and turned away, "If you'll excuse me, I have a date with some metal bars to attend."

Victoria felt her heart sinking as she watched him walk away. She knew that morally she'd done the right thing, but inside she couldn't help feeling that she was making a big mistake. Why did the lure of the wrong side of the law feel like a safer place than a station that was supposed to protect the innocent? Something really wasn't right in the world of Fenchurch West, not in the slightest.

~xXx~

A/N: New keyboard procured! All the keys work… how long will it be before I kill this one too? :P Sorry about the lack of Alex and Gene in this chapter, don't worry the action is back with them in the next one, the split of action just worked out better this way around! Please bear with me, I'm not feeling great so I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up x