S1 E5 - Goodbye, Richard

DI Poole keeps one sharp eye on the clock above the station's centre door. He has an announcement to make at precisely 9 am when Dwayne is still awake, Fidel is finished setting up his desk, and Camille has had her second cup of coffee. Yes, 9 am is the optimum time to make such an important announcement, in DI Poole's humble opinion.

So, at precisely 9:00:00 am, satisfied that everyone is more or less as alert as they will ever get today, he stands, clears his throat, and clasps his hands behind his back. No one looks up. After a frowny few seconds, he clears his throat again. Still no response. Miffed in the extreme, he barks, "'Oi! You lot!" Three pairs of eyes are now focused on him in various stages of curiosity but before any of them can ask a sassy question or suggest he brew a cup of tea to calm down, he drops the bomb. "My transfer came through. I'm leaving at month's end."

A deep and profound silence settles down all around. No one speaks. No one moves. DI Poole has another frowny moment then says, "Well, that's all, as you were," and sits back down.

Movement to his left makes Poole aware that Officer Myers has crossed his arms and is frowning massively down at his desk top. Movement to his right proves to be Officer Best standing abruptly and exiting to the veranda where he begins pacing like a badly wound-up toy. Only DS Bordey remains as she was, staring, her face stony.

Poole gives each person a long perusal before turning to his Sergeant and saying low, "What's wrong? Didn't you understand? I'm leaving. You're free of me. You can go back to your normal lives and I can go back to mine. What's with the silent treatment? Isn't month's end soon enough? Doesn't that give you enough time to organize a 'He's bloody well gone!' party?"

If anything, DS Bordey's face grows stonier. Her eyes narrow as she leans forward and hisses, "What if we don't want you to leave? What if we don't want to go back to our normal lives?"

Poole blinks, sits back in his chair, mutters, "What?"

She leans forward a little bit more, her voice lowering to the sub-sonic range, "I mean… why would Dwayne want to go back to just looking good on the bike? Why would Fidel want to go back to being the goat boy? Why would I want to go back to grubby sleazy undercover work where I'm always the stupid sex object? Why would you want to go back to Croydon where you weren't valued? Why would the Commissioner jeopardize the island's peace and safety?"

Poole's eyebrows are almost into his hairline, "Well, I, I, I… what?"

Dwayne lurches to his feet, throwing out a hand, "Yeah! Why would the Commissioner let you leave? We all know he moved heaven an' earth t' keep you here. It don't make no sense!"

Fidel now comes charging in from outside, "Yes! That's what I want to know too! How can the Commissioner let this happen?" He pulls up abruptly, "Does he know?"

Poole looks from face to face to face, slightly slack-jawed, before mustering his dignity around himself like a tattered robe. "Well of course he knows! He had to sign the documents and…"

Camille's eyes flash, "What do you mean 'he HAD to sign'?"

Dwayne growls, "Wuz you holdin' a gun t' his head or sumpthin'?"

Fidel murmurs with reluctant admiration, "Did you blackmail him somehow? Force him?"

Now Poole looks slightly more than slack-jawed but he clicks his mouth shut and huffs, "Of course I didn't force him… not physically… I just… just…"

"Just what?" Camille questions tersely. Another pall of silence falls over the room, just the soft whoosh whoosh of the ceiling fans disturbing the peace.

Poole takes a deep breath, "He had to sign the proscribed HR forms as my temporary secondment to Sainte-Marie is up and my old job will be reassigned if I don't return."

This time it's Dwayne who asks, "Why?" At his boss' blank look, he flips an impatient hand, "Why do you wanna return? Go back t' Croydon?" Everyone notes the shiver of disgust this last word elicits in the grim officer's voice.

Poole opens his mouth, starts to speak, "Well, I…" but now Fidel jumps in.

"Yes, why, sir? Why do you want to go back to that place? It's awful, it's demeaning, it's…"

"It's the only life I know, Fidel. As unhappy as I was there, it IS my place and I…"

"No, it's NOT!" rings out sharply. The men all look to Camille who seems to be taller somehow as she steps out from behind her desk and stands facing him like a gunslinger from an old Hollywood movie. Poole can't help but notice that Dwayne and Fidel have stepped up behind her, a united trio studying him with steely eyes.

Poole squares off with them, his voice rising, "Now see here…"

A deadly little index finger jabs the air and Poole swears he feels it from across the room, right through his suit! "No," Camille grits out, "you're the one that needs to see! That place isn't the only life you know. You've spent six months here, learning a new life, a good life, a life with acceptance and friends and accomplishment, even peace. Isn't that right?"

Poole frowns; he can't refute it but…

She doesn't give him a chance to argue. She gestures to her wing-men, "Oh, we can carry on without you, sure! We can do it but the point is… the point is…" Her voice falters and she seems to have something in her eye.

Poole whips out his handkerchief but, before he can offer it, Fidel has given his and she turns to Dwayne who puts a hand on her shoulder. Fidel steps forward and says solemnly, "The point is… we don't want you to leave. You don't realize what an effect you've had on us. Without your help and example, I'll never grow into the man I want to be. I want to have my own team someday and fight crime just like you're teaching me. I need you to stay."

Dwayne nods, "What the young'un says is true, Chief, you gotta stay. Who else will keep me on the straight an' narrow, prevent me frum back-slidin' inta my lazy scoff-law ways? Why, without you naggin' me day an' night, who knows whut sorta outlaw I could become? I don't wanna go back t' bein' the Main Dwayne. I wanna be an Officer of the Law, four-square an' true blue, jest like you've been showin' me how. I need you t' stay too."

The silence falls again, thicker and heavier than before. The officers manage to keep their eyes from ratcheting to Camille but she senses their attention even so. She sniffs and hands the handkerchief back to Fidel with a tiny smile before looking up, "As for me, I've never worked with anyone as brilliant as you. I've learned so much. I've always had intuition and hunches but you've taught me how to harness that to logic and I'm a better detective for it. I realize now that undercover work isn't for me, I want to be a DI same as you and…" she pauses briefly "… and I have other reasons for wanting you to stay that I'd like to discuss with you out on the veranda." She turns and marches out the nearest door.

The men all watch her go with equal looks of puzzlement. The two officers then turn to their boss who fidgets and looks everywhere but at them before muttering, "Did you two mean any of that?" Dwayne nods, Fidel puts a hand over his heart. Poole grumbles, shuffles his feet, then mutters, "Oh, well, then she probably meant what she said too." He clasps his hands, and dithers for another moment before sighing and pointing to the doorway, "I guess I'd better go hear what she has to say. It must be pretty awful if she isn't willing to say it in front of you two." He smooths down his tie, squares his shoulders, and strides out the door.

A final silence falls. Dwayne makes as if to sidle up to eavesdrop but Fidel catches his elbow, "Uh uh, let's do some filing. I think they have a lot to talk about and not about policing."

Dwayne balks at Fidel's grip, "What? What they gotta talk 'bout that's so secret?"

Fidel smiles, "If my student sleuthing skills can be trusted… secret things, nice things, things that will make him stay forever. So, they talk and we file! A to Z, remember?"

END