Struck Down
Prologue
~Fran Gipani

Disclaimer - Midsomer Murders isn't mine...but I will be able to claim a few creative murders in the form of fan fiction soon so...

Authors Note - Thank you to the guest, Vince1976, for your review, this chapter will definitely will answer your two questions! So I hope you enjoy :) also no worries, I really love your writing!
~Fran x

John Barnaby pushed open the door to the office, followed with saddened and in some cases, sympathetic glances. He tried in vain to ignore it, but as he sat at his desk and looked up to where Jones should have been sitting, he was left, with a sort of empty feeling, that in truth, he couldn't seem to shake off. It had been about a week since Ben Jones had been shot, and his boss, though Barnaby had insisted otherwise – on the grounds that work would keep his mind on other things, had not let him come back into work until then. So reluctantly, Barnaby had spent a week pacing the house, and walking Sykes; until Sarah had insisted he go and visit poor Jones.

The shrill ring of the phone cut the silence just as he sat down, "Barnaby," he answered, "yes," there was a few moments pause before he spoke again, "I'll be right there." He hung up the phone, "they've found a body over at Badgers Drift Jones, come o…" he stopped talking, realizing what he had done, with a nervous sniff Barnaby then stood and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. He left the room without another word.

"Simon Grey, 27 years old, his necks broken but we have yet to discover how, and whether it caused his death," Dr Wilding looked up at her boss with a slight frown, "you know Sir, the guy who ran the garage in the town."

"No," Barnaby creased his eyebrows, "I don't," here he'd usually turn to Jones, the encyclopedia of local knowledge, "these look like tire tracks," he said indicating the muddied ruts on the paddock side of the path, "a hit and run?" and in that case, thankfully not a murder, he thought

"I would say yes," she replied, "but he had his phone on in his hand."

"So he was meeting someone," Barnaby thought aloud, "and they definitely did meet, or somebody did anyway. Has someone bagged the phone? And also who was it that found the body?"

"The phone should tell us that, and it was those two over there, they were walking into town when they found him."

"Thank you," Barnaby turned, you, are going to need another junior, or at least someone else working the case with you who knows what they're doing, he thought to himself as he went to question the young couple standing by the police cars.

"Please Tom, It's just for one case, I've talked to the boss and he's said it is all fine." John said into the phone, he waited for a moment listening to his cousin's response, "it's hard to say over the phone…but if you come down to Causton, then…"there was a moment's silence on the other end of the line before John heard what he wanted to hear, "thank you Tom, I'll see you this afternoon at my place." A satisfied look flooded Barnaby's face as he hung up the phone, now I, need to go and see Jones again.

"This case, Jones, as far as I can see, is very straight forward, but a little of your local knowledge wouldn't go amiss."He sighed, looking round the clean white walls of the hospital room, "so I have invited Tom, Tom Barnaby your old DCI back to help with the case," John chuckled, "maybe he'll get you to wake." Silence filled the room, occasionally broken by the beeping of the monitor; then a familiar voice rang through the room, making John jump. John turned to face the door in surprise, "Tom!" he said as he stood to greet his cousin, "you're here early."

"I went over to the station first to say hello, thought Jones might be there."

"Ahh," John grimaced slightly.

"They directed me here," he walked over to stand on the other side of the bed, "so then, what happed to our Sergeant?" he gave John a look, his piercing blue eyes giving his cousin a once over, to find the man looked like he needed sleep, and a lot of it.

Feeling Tom's gaze on him, John looked up before starting to explain what had happened just over a week before. "…and he pushed me out of the way just as, 'Smudgie' as they called him, took the shot. Jones' head hit a jutting out rock in the grass; he was out within minutes and hasn't woken up since."

Tom didn't know what to say, he glanced down at Jones' still body, "how long has he been under?"

"Just over a week now," he frowned, "the doctors say it is the bang on the head keeping him out, the gut shot wound went straight through, missing everything vital."

"So he was very lucky," thank goodness, he thought before speaking again, "so do you want to explain to me why, you need my help."

"Of course, coffee?" John asked

"Love one." Tom replied with a small smile before sending a worried glance in Jones' direction.

About an hour later the two cousins were sitting in a pub near the hospital, talking about the case when John got a phone call from the hospital, (he had put his name down as 'next of kin' as Ben had never spoken of any family that he was close with, and to be honest the Barnaby's had sort of adopted him as part of the family.) "He's what?" he exclaimed, a grin crossing his face, before it faded again when he spoke, "we'll be right over," he hung up the phone.

"It's Jones isn't it?" Tom asked quickly, not waiting for an answer before standing up.

John followed suit, "they lost him for a moment, soon after we had left." he grimaced, "but thankfully he's fine now."

"Fine! How can he be fine if he nearly died?" there was a look of slight panic in Toms eyes, a look that had only been used a few times in his life.

"Tom, he's awake."

"Oh, thank god, we better be off then." Tom led the way out of the pup and opened the driver's side to the car. Within ten minutes, after a rather tense drive, they were at the hospital again. They followed the path from the car park at a brisk walk, avoiding other people going the other direction, until finally they reached the door of Jones' room. John got their first, and pushed the door open to see Ben Jones' sitting up in the bed, looking a little dazed, but very much alive.

"Hello Ben," John began, once Tom had entered the room and shut the door behind them.

"Hello…" Ben started, looking confused, his eyes moving from one man to the other, "what happened?"

The two elder men exchanged glances, was it a good idea to say anything so soon, a look from Tom told him all he needed, "there was a bit of an accident while wrapping up a case. Ben, you got shot."

"What? What case?" Ben looked panicked, "shot!?"

"Ben," Tom began calmly, "you're a detective, a police officer. That's why…" he tried to carry on but Ben talked over him.

"Who are you?" he asked both the men who were standing in his hospital room, looking dead worried, his eyes moved frantically between the two others in the room, "who the hell are you?"