Part 3 of 6

Outside, he paces the veranda like a metronome. Unbeknownst to him his officers are watching from a safe distance ready to render aid whether calling an ambulance, rushing in to prevent GBH, or summoning Catherine. They wait with bated breath.

"What do you think happened?" whispers Fidel, his worried eyes following Richard's every move.

"Dunno. Whatever it was, it was BIG! We've seen them mad one at a time… but never THIS mad… and never at the SAME time. This could be it, Fidel."

"It… what?"

"The deal breaker. They may have reached a turnin' point and now there's no goin' back."

Fidel looks back up to the station where Richard is now sitting on a bench, head in hands, "Oh, I hope we don't lose him. He's just settled down, accepted his lot, you know?"

Dwayne gives a grim nod, "I DO know. If he leaves, it will go hard on both of us. We're not ready to take over. Not yet. The last thing we need is an interloper tryin' to be the Chief! Besides…" he adds quietly "…I'd miss him."

"Me, too. Why isn't Camille out there trying to calm him down?"

"More to the point, why isn't he inside tryin' to calm HER down? Oh, this is bad."

Fidel stiffens, "Wait! He's thought of something… I know the way he sits up and freezes like that. Come on, Chief, use that big brain of yours and think of something!"

Together they huddle just out of sight and well out of earshot and pray for a miracle.

Richard is indeed sitting up because he has indeed had a thought… but it is a MAD thought! Mad! Despite his logical brain's relentless step-by-step analysis of the problem… he keeps coming back to the same mad conclusion! But that can't be right, can it? Ask the tiger for help? Impossible. Not to mention dangerous. Nevertheless...

He settles himself, takes a calming breath, and begins again. He found the journal. He read the journal. He doesn't understand the journal. She wrote the journal. She understands the journal. Ergo… if he wants to understand, she has to explain it to him. For that, he needs her help. He needs to go back inside and face the tiger and… and get his head bitten off.

He stands resolutely, smooths down his tie, takes another deep breath, and walks to the nearest door. He steps inside. It is very quiet. She isn't at her desk. He looks about. She isn't anywhere. How could she have gotten past him? She HAS to be here! Hands on hips, he turns around to see her silhouetted in the other doorway. She had obviously stepped out at the exact same moment he had stepped in.

"Oh," he says, suddenly at a loss, "What are the odds of THAT happening?" She makes no reply. She looks calm and cool. Right, he thinks, she's ready to talk and I'd better put my best foot forward.

He says, "I need your help," just as she says, "I'm resigning."

He is inexplicably looking down a backwards kaleidoscope. Everything skews. He's suddenly cold.

Into the thunderstruck roar in his head he sees her point to his desk where a white envelope lies pristinely upon the surface. He sees it and he knows what's inside it... knows but doesn't want to think about it. Doesn't want to think about it and can't accept it. It's just a sheet of paper with marks on it… marks that he doesn't want to see. If he sees the words then he will have to read them. If he reads them, his life will… his life will change. His life as he knows it… will end. End with a whimper.

In that moment, his heart stops. The world loses all colour, all sound, all meaning. Fear wells up in a tsunami and he is swamped. Oh. Oh, Christ. Oh, great sodding Christ.

NOW he understands.

NOW he gets it.

Not just a colleague. Not just a partner. Not just his sergeant and fellow officer. No just any ONE… not just any THING… EVERY thing. She means everything to him. Every little thing in his whole sad life.

She watches him stand rooted to the spot, sees his eyes go from surprise to worry to shock. Well, what did he think would happen, she wonders? I can't stay here now! Not now that he knows everything. I have my pride and even though it means changing my life, I have to do it. He's left me no choice.

He still hasn't moved… although his breathing has become unsteady. He's probably worried about the disruption my vacancy will cause the station, she scoffs sadly. Tough, that's HIS problem, not mine! She gives him a curt nod and turns away… towards the door and her new life… towards the great unknown and all its endless possibilities… towards…

… a life without Richard Poole.

END – part 3