"Morning, Jim. Good weekend?"

James looked up from his desk and greeted Robbie in the affirmative before returning the enquiry.

"Aye, it was good," Robbie replied with no intention of expanding on just how pleasant it had been. It was here for one purpose only. "Look," he said, "You got any time later? For your old Inspector, like?"

"Bit tied up this morning," he admitted in a tone that communicated the weight of exactly what he had to wade through before lunch could even be contemplated. "This afternoon is looking better though."

Robbie nodded, his face displaying his unease at having to explain further but feeling that he needed to.

"It's this Johnson business," he said grimly, "I could use a second opinion but it's a bit sensitive."

James hid his relief well. He'd been expecting to have to conjure up a way of helping without it seemingly like an interference but that now wouldn't be needed although, he realised guiltily, there'd still be the matter of yesterday's visit to be explained. Pushing that thought aside he suggested they convene at the teashop a few doors down from the station in what was meant in silent recognition that it might be better to speak without the risk of being overheard.

The older man's thanks was drowned out by the loud ring of the phone on the desk between them and further interrupted by a fresh faced Constable knocking on the door and not waiting for a reply to enter. Robbie couldn't help but smirk as James' spoke sharply to them to wait and, lifting the receiver, barked at whoever had the misfortune to be calling. As he backed away he felt no small amount of relief that this wasn't his life anymore. The ebb and flow, or more accurately the cut and thrust, of a live investigation had its merits but it was a younger man's game, that much he recognised, and despite nothing having changed it was with a lighter step that he exited the department in search of another who he fancied could be of help.

Flashing blue lights lit up the crime scene like a budget discotheque, the run of small but evenly spaced windows along one wall causing the otherwise dark warehouse to be flooded with light every other second. After picking her way over bunched up plastic sheeting and around stacks of wooden pallets she reached the body and immediately requested not only for the police car to cease in its attempt to help but that proper lighting was organised immediately. Fumbling about in her case for a headtorch she couldn't help but wonder what idiot in charge hadn't even managed the basics. Sadly she didn't have to wait long for an answer as a voice called out to her from several metres away.

"Doctor Hobson as I live and breathe."

Recognising its source, Laura gave an inward sigh before turning and saying brightly, "DS Renton. This one's yours, I take it?"

"Been a while," he commented, ignoring her question, his eyes flicking only briefly down to the corpse at their feet before they were back on her. "Where's Lewis been hiding you?"

Choosing not to dignify that with a response, she turned back to the task at hand and did everything in her power not to find Renton hovering over her intensely irritating. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, his dark hair had thinned considerably since their paths had last crossed and was greying at the temples. His face remained youthful though but his charcoal suit sat more casually, the tie not as snug up against his collar as it once would have been. He seemed jaded, worn down by the way things had turned out and in a way she didn't blame him, although, she mused, reaching into her bag for a thermometer, he was lucky he wasn't James' Sergeant. A badly tied tie was a line beyond which he was barely able to resist commenting upon.

After several minutes she felt she had little choice but to relent and ask him something.

"What is this place?" she said, "An old factory?"

She barely listened as he explained its previous use but the question served its purpose, the slight drone of his chatter being preferably to his stare. She should just tell him to go, that when she had something he'd be the first to know, but an idea stopped her. There weren't many of them left, she realised, those who'd worked with Johnson during his heyday on the Oxford force. His move to regional crime had been heralded as a local success story by Chief Superintendent Strange and others. Morse, she recalled, had just been glad that he'd be out of the building. But time had marched on, different names and faces peppered her day from those she'd known and it took something like this, a case from the past, for her to notice how much had changed and how many had changed with it. She couldn't help but suddenly feel old, or at least like an old timer; a feeling that wasn't at all helped by the presence of the man who was now wittering on above her.

Renton had been as fresh faced and eager to please as his peers, the familiar contradiction of cocksure and insecurity blended into one. They usually reverted back to one or the other, and in Renton's case it was the former; the manner in which he'd opted to act in front of his senior officers holding him back. With a bit of modesty and a willingness to learn he might have made Inspector. As it was he was staring down the barrel of his half century without any real hope of becoming more than he was, an Sergeant with fair to middling abilities. Still, Laura wondered, might that be to her advantage?

She reached for a pen and paper as her mind turned back to the corpse lying prone in front her. Life was all too clearly extinct but it didn't stop her from needing to confirm it, to record surface and core body temperatures, pull back layers of clothing to check for injuries, and so on and so forth. The familiar routine. And throughout this Renton continued on, and on. But she'd bide her time, feign interest and then take her chance when it eventually arose.

Sitting on wooden bench on the towpath, Robbie squinted at the message on the small screen, holding it at arm's length before bringing it closer to tap out a reply, huffing as his thumb hit two letters at the same time causing the autocorrect to kick in and alter the wording completely. He frowned as he battled on until at last the simple invite to meet him and Laura for a drink that evening was winging its way across the ether. He'd barely replaced the phone in his pocket before it beeped again with a reply that consisted of a thumbs up and a repetition of the earlier apology. Robbie gave a frustrated sigh. It was hardly James' fault that he was busy but it did leave him without the sounding board that he realised now he'd been relying on making use of.

The truth was that he was stuck. He'd done exactly as Moody asked; read every case file he could find that referenced Johnson, determined if anything stood out as being unusual and was worthy of further investigation. He'd been prepared to report back with whatever he'd found and then walk away, letting someone else deal with the consequences. But now he couldn't, not with Laura's name in the frame. He couldn't, wouldn't, ever do that. But what could he do, really?

He'd left the station earlier in the day with high hopes of tracking down a former colleague of Laura's. His knowledge of the early part of her career was patchy. He knew she'd studied in Oxford and then returned home for a bit, completing various placements in commuting distances from her parents home. But she'd been drawn back to Oxford and it hadn't been long after she'd taken a job with Thames Valley that their paths had crossed. Even then it had taken years for him to learn what it was that had lured her back to the dreaming spires and he'd been surprised to learn it had been one person in particular. But despite being armed with a telephone number and an address, he was yet to track them down. They were clearly either out of town or being deliberately evasive, with both of those scenarios causing him a fair degree of aggravation.

With a supermarket sandwich and a takeaway coffee in hand he'd found himself by the river with the view proving the only redeeming feature of his short lunch break. With James unavailable he now faced the rather unappealing prospect of an afternoon alone, his only company being his worries about the mess he seemed to have unwittingly uncovered. He kicked at the gravel underfoot, an action reminiscent of an errant schoolboy waiting to be told off. He stopped as a young woman with a pushchair entered his field of vision and offered her a half grin as she passed, one that she seemed to return. He watched her continue on, the sound of a gabbling toddler drifting back to him on the breeze briefly before fading out of earshot and the lapping water in front of him took over once more. Checking his watch, he reached into his jacket pocket for his phone, turning it over in his hand for a moment before reaching a decision. After all, he thought as he scrolled through his contact list, James wasn't the only one who could listen and advise. There were others, ones with more experience even, who were better placed to help. Admittedly she would likely be tied up, busy directing operations in only the way she knew how but, he surmised hitting the call button, the surprise of him ringing might be enough for her to interrupt her day and actually answer. He listened as the brief moment of silence became the soft purr of ringing and then quiet again before he heard her voice uttering his name with a predictable level of astonishment.

"Ma'am," he said in a tone that was half grin, half grimace and listened as she expressed yet further surprise, nodding along. "Aye, it's been a while. Wondered if you had a moment. Could use some advice if you do."

And with that he stood, his free hand shoving deep into his pocket as he turned in the direction of the city centre and set off, his footsteps displaying his renewed sense of purpose as he began to recant the whole story in detail.

Sorry for the delay in posting. Holidays and other commitments got in the way and then this chapter was trickier to write than I anticipated. Oh, and then I got distracted by a one-shot that I might post soon. Anyway, the next chapter is almost finished so I hope you're still with me on this little Robson escapade…