"Daddy what's that?"
Cal looked down to see where his son was pointing. Right at his groin.
Oh.
So... it was that magical time... "That's my penis," Cal answered, raising his voice over the sound of the shower so his hard of hearing son could understand him; if he blurted out 'penis' too loud Gillian would come in to see what was going on. "Where's your penis?" He shaped his hands into a 'wh' question. Most body parts were simply named by pointing at them but he didn't really want to encourage a lot of 'private part' attention.
"There!" Lewis pointed gleefully to his own groin.
"Great work," Cal muttered and turned to wash under his other arm. He had to be careful not to stand on a toy and not to let the soap run into his practically-three-year-old's eyes. When he was finished he turned back so he wasn't hogging all the water. It was better to keep Lewis in front of him too, so he didn't accidentally stand on the kid. He felt a hand on his thigh though that made him cautious, then had to grab Lewis's other hand before he could touch Cal any more. "No," Cal told him firmly. "That's my private parts. No one touches my private parts but me." He shook his head and pointed to himself in the chest.
And Mum.
"Just like no one touches yours. Except Mum or me or someone who's helpin' you clean up. Right?" Clean was signed the same way as 'nice', brushing the flat fingers of the right hand over the flat palm of the left. When Lewis didn't answer Cal asked him again. Lewis nodded but Cal wasn't sure he understood. Or maybe the shower was too noisy. They had talked about this before, at other times when Lewis was curious about his body. It was only in the shower he tended to be curious about someone else's. Cal figured that was because he could see the differences. It was hard to notice when people were wearing clothes. Cal put the soap back in the dish.
Lewis had a thoughtful expression on his face. "Mum doesn't have penis."
Cal wondered if Lewis was actually talking to him. He didn't appear to be... but sometimes it was hard to tell. Lewis looked up at him. "Your penis verr big."
Cal chuckled. "Yeah."
"Mine verr little."
"That's because I am big," Cal decided to explain, making a 'large' gesture. He didn't always have to wait for a direct question to get involved. "And you are little." He made a 'small' gesture, then leaned down a little and held up his hand. Lewis did the same, pressing his much smaller hand against his father's palm. "See?" Cal pointed to his eyes and then to their hands. "You're small and I'm big. One day you'll be big too."
"Big as you?"
"Yep," Cal nodded. Probably. Perhaps bigger.
"Out!" Lewis suddenly announced, grabbing his right hand with his left and pulling it up and free again, heading for the door.
Cal pushed it open for him and let him out, calling for Gillian, who came into the doorway a second later. "Hi little guy are you ready to get out?" She crossed her fingers, then moved them towards each other and away again.
Cal closed the door again and finished his shower. He stepped into the bedroom, rubbing a towel over his hair. He had another wrapped around his waist. On the bed, Gillian was dressing Lewis, getting him to push his hand through the hole of his shirt. He was chattering away, loving the sound of his own voice now that he had discovered it, even though he didn't have his hearing aids on yet.
Lewis usually had showers or a bath before bed but he insisted on following his father in this morning. Gillian was dressed for work, hair and make-up done. They'd eaten already and made lunches. Gillian nudged Lewis to stand on the bed and helped him with his undies and trousers. Cal ditched towel number one to pull on a white undershirt; it was cold in winter, especially if he was roaming around outside. He ditched the second towel to pull on underwear of his own. Lewis jumped from the bed with a thud. "Daddy's got a penis!"
Cal turned surprised and caught a similar expression on Gillian's face. Lewis raced out of the bedroom door and Gillian raised an eyebrow in question. "We were talkin' about it in the showa," Cal offered.
"About your penis?" Gillian clarified and she looked a little amused.
"Well... sort of."
"I guess he's that age," she mused, picking up the towels from the bed.
"Yeah he needs the chat about private parts," Cal rolled on deodorant.
"You didn't cover that in the shower?" Gillian disappeared into the bathroom.
"Well I started to but I don't think he could hear me very well," Cal headed across the room to find a clean shirt from the wardrobe and his trousers.
"I thought you talked to him about that another time?"
"I did," Cal confirmed as he slipped his trousers on, turning to see his wife lean against the end of the bed.
"Maybe it needs reinforcement."
"Hm," Cal agreed but he had no idea. He was used to 'winging' it, whereas he expected Gillian to know things. She had worked with children in the past, she must have read up; she had certainly encountered her fair share of problem parents. Cal did up his trousers as his wife approached. She pushed past him to get to the wardrobe, stepping into heels. She turned, his height now, and gave him a quick kiss. Cal smiled and she returned it and wandered off, looking thoughtful.
Cal always left first because Gillian took Lewis to day care and he didn't start until nine. Cal was at the office by eight thirty and he was keen to get going. He headed straight for the lab, where his minions should be working on finding leads in their case. Ria was there, at a computer, overseeing a web search. "Where's Loke-a?" Cal greeted.
Ria turned, a little startled. "Ah he just went back to his office to get something."
Cal stared at her for a moment. Seriously, sometimes, when people lied, he was really surprised they even bothered. "He's late then?" Cal asked rhetorically. "What have you got?"
"So far not a lot," Ria mused.
"Not helpful," Cal turned and walked out of the lab again. He went to his office and picked up the phone from its cradle. He dialled Loker's number. It rang a few times and then he answered it.
"Loker here."
"Loke-a here, you're late," Cal told him and hung up again. He pulled off his jacket and tossed it loosely over the back of his chair. There was mail on his desk and he picked it up, flicking through for something important. Nothing interesting. Emails would wait. He was enthusiastic about their case right now. A missing person. Not really missing. Their client was searching for her father who had disappeared fifteen years ago. Gillian had agreed to take the case and Cal had agreed that it should be passed on to someone else in the building to look into. They had found some interesting quirks, people who were lying about the man's whereabouts and strange occurrences of midnight phone calls and strangers at the door. That's when Cal had heard about it. Apparently there was a lot more to this Keith James than their client knew about her father and Cal was interested now in solving the mystery. He did like a good challenge.
When Gillian arrived at the office Cal was in the lab looking at old footage of Keith. "Our staff have that look."
"What look?" Cal turned to her with a frown. Through his glasses her face was in sharp focus. Beautiful.
"The 'scared of the big bad wolf' look," Gillian grabbed a seat and wheeled it over before sitting in it. Cal watched her, his amused expression on display. "Are you huffing and puffing?" Gillian went on.
"I've not done anythin'," Cal answered.
"Then why are you sitting in here alone?"
"Perhaps I like the peace and quiet."
"Huh," Gillian neither disagreed or acquiesced She looked up at the large display screen. "What are you looking at?"
"A video."
"Ha funny," she responded dryly. "If you'd rather be alone," she started to say, shifting her hands to push out of her chair again.
Cal grabbed her wrist and spun the chair further around so she was forced back down. She gave him a quick surprised expression. "You can stay," he told her.
"Did I need your permission?"
"You're quick today with the shutdowns," Cal noted.
Gillian gave him a smirk. "I'm feeling energised."
Cal gave her a frown. "Did you have another coffee afta I left you?"
"No. But I had a good night's sleep."
Cal feigned offence.
"Because someone left me alone," Gillian went on with a bright smile, even though he had already figured it out.
"This from the person who won't leave me alone," Cal muttered, spinning around in his chair again. "You're pullin' the wolf's tail."
A hand smoothed against the back of his head and Gillian leaned in close. Cal turned his head to see her, her face starting to distort through his glasses now. "Aw," she pouted. "I'm sorry. You pick on our staff, I pick on you, such is the way of the world."
Cal gave a chuckle. "You're a funny one."
"So what are we looking at?" Gillian asked him again.
"James," Cal answered.
"From nineteen eighty two?"
"Somethin' like that yeah," Cal confirmed. "See this?" He went back a little bit and froze the image.
Gillian got up to get closer to the large screen across the room. "It's... is that contempt?"
"I don't think so," Cal responded although now all he had a view of was her backside. Not complaining. "It doesn't quite engage into a full contempt expression. No otha movement of muscles."
Gillian turned back to him. "So then it's?"
"I think it's a quirk of his."
Gillian took her seat again. She considered what he'd said. "So you think it will help you find him?"
"Well if we manage to haul someone in we're pretty sure his him but can't recognise him because he was horrifically scarred for some reason and all his fingaprints are burnt off or somethin', if his mouth and jaw muscles were still intact, yeah, I think I'd be able to identify him based on that."
Gillian gave him an amused expression. "Facial recognition software would be great."
"And access to all the lights, camera's, ATM's, CCTV," Cal added.
Gillian gave a little sigh. "Maybe next Christmas."
"I'll be good."
She gave him a smile. "All right. I'm going to go liaise with the rest of our staff."
"All right," Cal agreed.
"Uh Doctor Lightman?" Heidi entered the lab and he turned to face her, eyes questioning. She looked unsure. "There's a police detective here to see you."
Gillian looked up at Cal expectantly, who stood half way across the room going over footage of their best twenty matches, from acquaintances and family friends to someone who knew someone who could be Keith James. The men were all roughly the same height, same build, same basic face structure, but the computer couldn't make a match. It was possible James had had work done, or a few mis-healed fractures. It was the quirk of his lip that Cal was interested in and looking for. Even if the clips were just fifteen seconds long, it was enough. Some of them were poor quality, from street cameras and Loker was in the process of cleaning them up as best he could. It felt like they were getting closer. And now... some cop was there about... who knew what?
"What does he want?" Cal asked before making a move. He might get away with getting Heidi to politely tell the cop to bugger off.
"He asked to speak to whoever was in charge," Heidi responded.
Cal pointed to his wife. "That'd be you luv," and he turned back to his footage. He heard the two women leave but didn't break his focus. This was the best lead they had for actually finding James. So far they had enough reports that he was still alive, was somewhere actually in DC and was involved in weapons trafficking. But while people were willing to let slip they knew of James being alive, no one seemed to entirely know his whereabouts. They had gone out on several wild goose chases only to come back empty handed. This time, they were going to take a chance on that lip quirk.
"Where's this one from?" Cal pointed to the screen.
"Uh a warehouse," Ria started.
"When," Cal cut her off. "From when?"
"Yesterday."
"I wanna go there," Cal pointed to the screen. He started heading for the door and heard the scramble of his protégé as she gathered together the things they would need if she had understood him correctly. He wanted to go out to the warehouse and make a visual for himself. As Cal strode towards the exit of his business, he thought about stopping for Gillian, then remembered she was dealing with a cop, somewhere he couldn't see, probably her office, and it would only slow him down to go and see what it was about. She could call him about it later. And catch them up if she wanted to.
PJ
Cal sat in the passenger seat of Ria's SUV, his eyes glued to the portable miniature screen in his lap. Ria had a camera trained on the men working in front of the warehouse, breaking down boxes to be piled into a skip bin. They weren't in a rush and they didn't seem bothered by the SUV parked just slightly down the road, which hadn't moved for the last five minutes. They'd had actually been there for ten minutes before that, waiting for some signs of life.
"A sedan just pulled up behind us," Ria noted.
Cal gave a grunt of acknowledgement. This required concentration. He had to wait for the target to turn towards the road, towards the SUV where Cal sat waiting, towards the camera trained on his face. Ria could see enough to make small adjustments but mostly she sat still and Cal was impressed she didn't grumble about her arm getting numb. She kept the camera pretty steady too. His little minion... he had trained her well...
The man who Cal was pretty sure was James turned towards the camera, obviously watching the street for a second. Cal felt suddenly exposed but knew they couldn't be seen, not this far away, which must mean he was looking at the car that had pulled up behind them. Cal heard a car door. Then his phone started ringing and before he could reach for it there was a tap on the glass of his window. He looked up at the same time Ria uttered an 'uh oh'.
A badge was pressed up against the glass and a tall dark haired man was leaning in to look through the window, right at Cal. "Step out of the vehicle please."
Cal kept his gaze at his neutral-borderline-hostile expression. He handed the portable screen to Ria and indicated the cop should step back so he could open the door. The guy was tall, at least six foot three and the rest. Cal had to look up at him and tried not to look across the road at James. They were so busted. But doing what? He was pretty sure he hadn't done anything illegal. Cal's phone continued to ring in his jacket pocket. "Can I get that?"
"No. Can I see some ID?"
"What for? What have I done?"
"ID," the cop repeated.
"Are we parked illegally?" Cal looked over to see another man was asking Ria to step out of her side of the car too.
"Sir, I'm going to ask you one more time. I need to see some ID."
Cal's phone stopped ringing and it was suddenly silent on the street. Cal could see Ria was handing over her ID and he felt the need to tell the cop to stick it and cause a big scene but he refrained. Gillian would be mad if he had to spend the night in the cells. So he indicated he was going to reach into his pocket for his wallet. The cop waited patiently but Cal could see the tension in him, the desire to reach for his gun. Cal gave the cop his wallet, which had his driver's license in it. Ria was brought to wait not too far away. She didn't look particularly bothered and Cal was proud again of how she was handling this bizarre situation.
"Doctor Lightman. I'm going to have to ask you to come with us."
"Are you kiddin'?" Cal blurted. "Have I done somethin'?"
"I'd like to talk to you at the station," the cop indicated to his partner that Ria could go.
"Oi, hold on," Cal protested as he was taken by the elbow. He wasn't worried, he was getting freaking annoyed. "You can't just manhandle me."
"I'm asking you politely," the cop's expression was stern, making him look like a predatory bird. "You can accompany us willingly or I can arrest you for obstruction of justice."
"Obstruction?" Cal repeated disbelievingly. "Un-bloody-believable."
Ria started her vehicle and pulled away without a second glance. If Cal knew her she was going to go straight to Gillian to rat the police out. Cal turned towards the sedan and got in the back. Pissing people off was his specialty and he didn't like it in particular when he was annoyed and no one else was. He schemed in the back, about all the ways he was now going to make this interview purposefully impossible. And he was going to have to call Gillian... actually... Cal pulled his phone from his pocket. The missed call was, as he suspected, from his wife. But there wasn't a voice mail or a text message and Cal was debating calling her back when the car pulled into an underground parking garage. He was let out of the back and escorted inside. Instead of heading to an interview room though, the tall plain clothes cop took him to a different room, with comfortable furnishings... Cal did a quick scan for cameras and couldn't see any. But that didn't mean there weren't any there. Absence of evidence was not evidence of absence.
The door closed and Cal rounded on the officer who immediately raised his hands in a sign of parley. He had Cal's wallet in his hand and Cal darling reached out to snatch it back. "Doctor Lightman thank you for your cooperation."
"You can cram it," Cal blurted.
The cop looked surprised. "Let me explain. We're investigating the same man. Keith James. He's wanted for a series of murders." Cal stopped, mouth slightly open for his next retort, which died on his tongue. "My name is Aiden Fox-Boycott. I'm a homicide detective."
"Murda?" Cal queried warily. That had not come up in their investigation at all. Cal took a seat and the detective sat opposite him.
"We're incredibly interested in what you know about him. Have you located him?"
"What do you think I was doin' on the street with a camera trained on a warehouse you pillock," Cal retorted. The detective blinked, surprised. "Wasn't havin' a picnic."
"He was there?"
"I suspect so but you interrupted before I could be sure."
"We've been looking for Mr James under an alias, Kevin Jones."
Cal gave a nod. "Yeah but he's not used that name for six months."
"We spoke to your business partner, Doctor Foster."
Cal cringed at the use of that name. "Oh yeah, and what did she tell you?"
PJ
Back at the lab, there were now extra bodies sitting and watching. Aiden Fox-Boycott had explained his end of the deal, and Gillian had told him about the Lightman Group's end of the deal and now everyone was on the same page. They were after the same man, initially for different reasons, but now with the same goal in mind: get him in police custody. Murder trumped a missing family member. Gillian was on the phone with their client right now, explaining the turn of events and Cal had agreed to help the homicide detectives seated down the row from him in making a positive ID.
The footage Ria had managed to shoot before she was asked to move on was actually pretty fantastic and Cal was able to observe long seconds of the man's face, who they suspected was James; who Cal was pretty confident he could either identify as the right guy, or at least positively rule him out. The door to the lab opened and Gillian came back in, heading to the right of the chair Cal was slumped in. "She's willing to let the police take the lead on this one."
"Great," Cal murmured. "Go back," he told Eli.
"I offered to return our fee," Gillian went on.
"You what?" Cal leaned forward to look up at her.
"But she refused," Gillian finished. "So that is that," she walked away to take a seat of her own. Cal saw the detective's eyes follow her as she moved and he felt that urge to tell them to back off even though it was just looking and he was not insecure, he was not.
Cal focused on the video footage again. "Can you pull it in tighta?" He requested of Eli. The image got larger. James was the man wearing the bright red and black striped shirt. It had taken a bit of explaining but finally the detectives accepted Cal's lip quirk identifier. "There it is," he pointed. Eli froze the feed a split second later and wound back two frames to where it was most prominent.
"You're sure that's him?" Fox-Boycott spoke up.
"Definitely," Cal noted. The printer in the background was already reeling off an image. Gillian went to get it, to make a comparison to the image they had taken from the nineteen-eighty-two footage.
"That's not, something else, like happiness, or something," the detective went on.
Cal gave him an unimpressed expression. "That's not happiness," Cal clarified dryly. He went to the FACS manual kept on the shelf and pulled out the five main images. He showed the detectives again, how the lip quirk was not contempt or any of the other known facial expressions on record. This was an individual trait of this particular man. Cal was sure.
PJ
Cal drove while Gillian told him what she had told the detectives when Cal had gone out the first time. "He told me."
"Oh," Gillian suddenly stopped talking. "I tried calling you."
"Was in the process of tryin' to get myself arrested."
Gillian gave a little snort and Cal grinned before glancing over at her. "I'm glad you didn't," she noted.
Cal had not been allowed to go to the warehouse to pick up James. Even after he had argued he would at least be able to identify James properly before cops knocked on the door and alerted him to the fact that he had been located. But it didn't matter, Fox-Boycott, who was the lead on the case, was insistent and had a demeanour Cal found himself not wanting to test. If it came down to a pissing match Cal suspected he would lose. His name might have a wicked reputation but he didn't have a badge and a gun, or cells to keep the people who annoyed him in. So he played their game. He waited at work while local police had arrested James and taken him down to the precinct, and Gillian had gone to pick Lewis up from day care. James went to an interrogation room. Lewis came to work to hang out with Aunt Ria.
The lead detective was already attempting to speak to James when Cal arrived. Fox-Boycott had allowed for them to watch in the viewing room but after ten seconds it was apparent James was just going to keep his mouth shut. He hadn't asked for a lawyer so the detective was within his rights to continue questioning. Cal saw stubborn on a regular basis. What the interview needed was a verbal trip up. It was time to play. He headed out from the viewing room and went next door, to the interrogation.
He closed the door behind him and sat down, both James and Fox-Boycott watching him. "How's it goin'?" Cal asked James, ignoring the detective. James gave a slight nod of his head and that was enough for Cal to have scored points. It was always amusing that a slight deviation from what was expected was enough to throw someone off. Like with Mitchell. "I'm just here to listen in," Cal went on. "So go ahead," he gave a gesture to the police officer next to him, who Cal suspected wasn't quite sure if he should kick Cal out or not.
Aiden went through his questions again, and again James just sat there. At the end, the detective gave a sigh Cal wished he hadn't. That was giving James a bit of an upper hand. "Again," Cal directed the officer.
"Is your name Keith Alexander James?"
James didn't answer but the corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile.
"Are you also known as Kevin Jones?"
James remained silent once more but again, that split-second of smile was there. That was good. The interview was being recorded. The cop went through more questions, the yes or no's that James could ignore easily because they were about his name or date of birth or known address. But when the detective asked where he had been for the last fifteen years Cal could see James get uncomfortable. This was the second round of questioning and it was harder to brush off a direct question more than once. James knew what was coming this time and he was already thinking about it. The detective moved on, to the series of bodies found, that all had the same MO, that officers had linked to a hired gun: Jones.
James gave a turn of his head of denial but Cal saw the slight shoulder shrug that suggested he was contradicting himself. Now that Cal saw it, he noticed other little gruff responses to the questions. When the detective got to the end Cal got up and left the room. The officer excused himself and followed. They went to the interrogation room. There was a live feed on a screen and, Cal had noted this before, recording equipment. He tampered for a second until he could wind the footage back a few minutes.
"What are you doing?" Fox-Boycott asked.
"I'm showin' you somethin'," Cal answered. Gillian came to stand next to him. Together they pointed out the twitches that were James's brand of a confirmation. Cal directed the detective to concentrate on those aspects of the questioning and added a few more suggestions that might trick the man into talking. The interesting thing about the detective, aside from his height, was that he seemed to be genuinely listening. He didn't seem sceptical and he certainly wasn't dismissive.
Gillian's phone rang and she answered it quickly. Cal focussed on the interview. James looked unsettled again now that Cal hadn't returned and that was enough for him to start to answer absently. The head nods or shakes became verbal, gruff answers. Cal was pleased. "Hey," Gillian got his attention with a hand on his arm. "That was Ria. She says Lewis is asking for me. So I'm going to head back."
"All right," Cal turned to her. "Give the munchkin a kiss for me."
"I always do," she responded with a smile. "You're all right to find your own way back?" She held out her hand for his car keys; not subtle at all.
"Yep," Cal agreed, handing them over. Gillian gave him a quick kiss and left and Cal went back to watching the interview. It looked like Fox-Boycott was making some progress.
PJ
The detective extended a hand. "Thank you for your help Doctor Lightman. You really did all the leg work on this case." He had arrested James after eliciting a confession. A confession was much stronger than all the evidence Cal had put together, or him getting on the stand and testifying with all the video footage he had. Although he was still going to do that when the case when to court. If it went to court. James was talking to his lawyer now.
"And you get all the glory," Cal shook his hand.
Fox-Boycott gave a wry smile, the first Cal had seen. He reached for his wallet in his back pocket and withdrew a card. "I'd be interested in working with you again. Getting your input on other cases."
For whatever reason, which Cal had not quite figured out yet, he liked his guy. Cal took his card. "You know I went to school with a Boycott."
"I'll assume that was a completely different family," the detective responded.
"Maybe not. Could be distant cousins," Cal noted.
Aiden gave another slight smile. "Maybe."
Cal got out his wallet to put the card away and withdrew one of his own. "Could always use a source on the inside," he countered.
The detective gave a nod as he took the offered card. "Does this mean we have an understanding?"
"It means we have an acquaintance," Cal corrected. "I won't make promises but if you called, needin' a hand with somethin'..."
The detective nodded again. "I heard you do training. For your facial expression thing."
"The FACS manual, yeah."
"I might take you up on that sometime."
"Do," Cal agreed. "Till late-a then detective," Cal flicked the card in his hand, twisted his wrist and made it disappear up his sleeve in a smooth motion. He turned and walked away, knowing the detective was trying to work out what it was about Cal that he liked as well.