Laura paced. And paced. She sat down, stood up and paced some more. Innocent's office was only big enough for five steps. She counted them off, then turned and counted another five. For their part, James and Jean said nothing. Innocent stood when Lizzie can into the office.
"The car belongs to Luke Burgess. Well, it is a family car. We are still trying to locate him, but he seems to have disappeared, also." Wilkins had been in the boot of the car when they had opened it, and James and Innocent had both found themselves overwhelmed with relief, suddenly to be replaced with a cold wave of fear. The officers standing around had all gathered to look when Innocent had asked who the man in the boot was, and the release of tension had been palpable.
"And Carsen?" James asked, trying to clear his head.
Lizzie frowned. "The same. Nothing. We're looking through all the property records we can, but so far, we have nothing else tied to Wilkins, Burgess, Carsen, or Lawrie. Uniforms are canvassing, looking at empty buildings, abandoned homes, schools, everything they can." She lifted a folder and sighed deeply. "Wilkins was killed with a hammer blow to the head and his blood matched one of those at the scene." She looked at Laura and then James. "He was missing a tooth, knocked out, recently."
Innocent shot a glance to Laura. She shouldn't be here, Innocent thought, but good luck trying to get her to leave. And, anyway, she supposed, she was safer, here. Jean blew out a breath. "Ok, Put out a picture of Burgess to the media. If they have a problem with it, tell them they don't want to have a problem with it. Keep going on the property search. They have him somewhere, and it can't be too far away. They wouldn't have risked going far with Robbie in the car. Start looking at relatives of the suspects and their holdings."
James blinked. He hadn't even thought of that. He was so slow, right now, his brain was working at half speed. Lizzie nodded, glancing back at Hathaway and left. Laura sat down, and they were surprised that there weren't tears. Maybe she had used them all up. Laura was playing in her mind the scene at their home, how it must have played out. Focusing on science. They had subdued Robbie and dragged him out of the house, the streaks of blood across the floor and to the door popped into her mind. So, Burgess and Wilkens had broken into her home and attacked Robbie on the stairs. The handprint on the wall had been Robbie's. He had been able to fight back. Robbie was tougher than most people gave him credit for. Laura was sure that he liked being underestimated. He had fought back and surprised them. She felt a wave of pride.
\m/
Robbie stared at Lawrie through his right eye. He saw another blow coming and braced for it. It hit his cheek with enough force to drive his head sideways to his shoulder, but Robbie was surprised at how much less it hurt now than it had before. He smiled weakly through bloody lips. Lawrie drove fists into his ribs until Robbie was gasping for air.
"Thirteen years, Inspector. That's what you took away from me."
Robbie attempted a shrug. "So you've said. Over and over. You're like a bloody turntable, you are, needle stuck in a groove."
Lawrie didn't bite this time. He sat down in the chair across from Robbie, breathing hard. Robbie decided to try again. "All that time in prison…" he said, weakly, not sure if the words were coming out as more than jumbled sounds. It sounded right in his head, so he continued. "all that time, and you didn't exercise, try to build some muscle, man?"
Lawrie glowered. "You know, Lewis, I've got to say you have more stones than I gave you credit for. More balls than brains."
Robbie said, "Heard that one before, too."
Lawrie nodded, frowning. "Ok, sure." He showed him the knife. It glinted in the candlelight that Lawrie had used to illuminate the small cellar. Candlelight for effect, he had said. Robbie felt the dread in his nerves. "I am going to make you understand just how big of a number thirteen is." He put the knife against Robbie's neck and locked eyes…eye…with him, waiting for the fear. Robbie fought it away, determined to keep Lawrie from seeing the terror that was flowing through his body, vibrating his core.
Lawrie snarled and stood back, gauging Lewis when he didn't get the response that he wanted. Robbie briefly thought that maybe it had been a bluff, he was simply trying to scare him. Then, Lawrie gripped the collar of Robbie's battered and bloody undershirt and ripped it open. He placed the knifepoint against his chest and pushed, slowly, watching Robbie's eyes. Robbie threw his head back and howled. The knife dug deep into the skin and Lawrie pulled it across until a stream of blood began running freely. The rush of blood ticked as it ran down Robbie's abdomen soaking into his trousers. Robbie's breath was ragged and fast through his nose, teeth smashed together so tight he thought they might break.
Lawrie smiled and said, "One."
\m/
Luke Burgess knew he was in trouble. Graham had killed Wilkins, like it was nothing. They had put the dead man in his car an made him drive it to the storage unit. As he drove the car, shaking and sick, away from the small house, he knew there was no reason that Graham wouldn't kill him, too. Lawrie wasn't the man he thought he was and when he figured out that Luke was the one that bungled everything, that had screwed everything up with his weakness, he would kill Luke, too. He'd be found, in a car boot, in a storage unit, driven there by someone else that fell under Lawrie's spell.
So, what to do besides hide in this coffee shop? He couldn't stay here forever. He wondered how long it would be before he could go back to class. He would be able to go back to class, right? How had he been so stupid? So weak? He had waited until the cop had gone down the stairs, that's what he was supposed to do. Put him down, Wilkins would carry him out, and their part would be done. But he had faltered. He had stepped out of the home's spare and hit the cop as hard as he could, but the guy hadn't gone down. He hadn't just fallen over asleep like in the movies. He had stumbled, put his hand to his head, then taken on Wilkins. Who in their right mind would take on Wilkins? Maybe the knock to the head had rattled something loose.
Wilkins hadn't been ready and the cop fought like a caged animal. He had tried to help, had jumped on him, but the guy wouldn't go down. It took Wilkins beating him senseless to finally put the cop's lights out. He had seemed like a nice guy, the cop, he wondered what Graham was doing to him right now.
He missed class. He wondered briefly about how much work he was going to have to do to catch up on the classes he was missing and took another drink of the cold coffee. It wasn't good coffee, but it was something to do. He looked up at the counter and saw two uniformed cops turn to him as the barista pointed at him. He stood and tried to walk briskly from the shop but was stopped outside by another pair of uniforms. He turned to run, but they had him. They slammed him to the ground, and he screamed at them. Tears began to flow and he felt ashamed of them. He told them he would go, he would let them take him, but it didn't make the ride any gentler.
\m/
James hadn't been home in over three days. Laura sat at Robbie's desk, idly playing with a pen and lost in thought. Lyn and Ken were on their way and would be there in a few hours and Laura had updated them with few words. What was he going to tell them?
Laura. He watched her, her motions slow and her eyes drooping. He stood and went to her. "Laura, let's get you back to the hotel and you can rest."
She shook her head and he saw her lip tremble. "No." She looked up at him, blue eyes bloodshot and brimming with unshed tears. "I don't want to be alone, James. I can't. I just want to wait here, until we know something. Anything. Until the kids get here."
James sat on the edge of the desk and put his hand on her shoulder. He wanted to tell her she had to take care of herself, that Robbie would want her to. He wanted to tell her so much, about everything he was feeling, about his guilt. He just couldn't burden her more to make himself feel better. "I'm sorry, Laura, I am so sorry."
She nodded softly again as he moved to take her in his arms. Five more hours would make Robbie missing for exactly three days. Five more hours. His kids would probably land by then. Would he look at his watch and count down the time? What was he going to say to Robbie's children? He had met Lyn a few times, but he had never met Ken. How much was he like his father? Would he be the rock in the family, now? Would he be that solid foundation?
Innocent came in the room, gripping the doorframe. "We've got Burgess, they are bringing him in, now."
\m/
Laura had tried to be stoic this whole time, to not break down completely, especially in front of all of her colleagues. Her energy had completely drained hours ago and she found simply moving to be a chore. She forced herself to stand there, looking into the interview room as Luke Burgess sat holding an ice pack to his new black eye.
He should be more imposing, more intimidating. He was just a kid. It infuriated her. He should look evil, should have some mark on him that showed the world what he had done. She had seen plenty of what kids could do to each other. It just never made complete sense. Robbie was a force in her life, a force that affected so many people and had done so much for the world. How had this kid stripped that away?
James stood stiffly next to her and Innocent next to him, arms folded. Detective Inspector Henderson and Lizzy walked into the room and sat down. She couldn't remember Henderson's first name, but she remembered he worked vice. He was a large man, tall, like James, but large. Like a bull, not muscle, not exactly fat, either, but a mixture that gave him mass and gravitas. His face was large and unremarkable, perfect for vice, she supposed. She didn't think she had ever spoken to the man, and she didn't think Robbie knew him well, either. Perhaps that was why Innocent had him leading the interview. To prevent any accusations of impropriety.
Henderson announced the date and time for the interview and Laura saw James look at his watch, studying it. It wasn't Henderson who spoke to Burgess first. Maddox said, "How are you doing today, Luke?"
It was going to be one of those interviews, wasn't it? Slow, methodical, build rapport. Laura closed her eyes and took a steadying breath.
Burgess looked at both officers and half shrugged, "Fine, except your officers assaulted me when they arrested on absolutely false grounds." He was pouting.
Henderson leaned back, "That's a serious accusation, son. Have any proof?" Laura was surprised to hear that Henderson was a Geordie. She had never known. The familiar accent soothed her, somehow.
Burgess gaped at them and lowered the ice pack. He pointed at his eye and looked at the pair expectantly. His head bounced from one to the other while they stared at him, waiting for them to acknowledge him. Without moving her gaze, Lizzy said, "The suspect is pointing to his eye."
Henderson leaned forward, studying the bruise blossoming under Burgess' eye. He let his eyes trail slowly to the healing cut on the young man's lip. "Hmmm," he said thoughtfully, and leaned back again, crossing his legs. "Are you sure officers did that bringing you in? Or did Detective Inspector Robert Lewis do that to you?"
Burgess stiffened, not much but enough that Laura noticed. Hathaway moved ever so much closer to the glass. Burgess placed the ice pack back over his face and said, "I want to speak to a solicitor."
Henderson nodded. "Of course, son. Have all the time you can pay for with your solicitor, after we are finished, here." Lizzy took a photo from a folder and laid it on the table in front of Burgess. Laura could see the open boot of a car, a body inside. Henderson said, "We found a body in your car, Luke." Luke stared at the picture. Lizzy showed him another photo, a fuzzy photo of him at the visitation entrance of the prison. Henderson continued, "We know you have been visiting Graham Lawrie, we will want to know why."
Luke didn't answer. Henderson then leaned forward again, closer to Burgess than before. Laura knew it was to take away space, to let the suspect know he was cornered and that he wasn't in charge of the situation. "We will want to know why," he repeated, "but we actually don't care, at the moment, why or how you hooked up with Lawrie. What we want to know right now is where Detective Inspector Robert Lewis is." Henderson spoke calmly, but the undertone was unmistakable, dangerous, threatening. It was something that the interview tape probably wouldn't catch, but Henderson's glare left no mistake.
Burgess began, "I want a solic…." Henderson cut him off. "See, we know what happened to Detective Inspector Robbie Lewis." Laura noted that he kept repeating Robbie's name and rank. "You and Douglas Wilkins went to his home and kidnapped him. Someone attacked him on the stairs as he was coming down, was that you?" Laura thought of the handprint on the wall, the left handprint, facing as if the person that made the print was going down the stairs. She hadn't made that connection at the time. "It probably was you," Henderson continued, turning his head slightly, eyes not leaving Burgess'. "I think you hit him, from behind, after probably hiding in the spare room upstairs. Problem is, you're rubbish at hitting people from behind." Henderson saw the flash in Burgess' eyes and kept going. "If it had been Wilkins, you might not have had such a fight on your hands, Wilkins wouldn't have lost a tooth." Henderson smiled. "But, you, well…maybe Detective Inspector Robert Lewis has a harder head than you thought, or maybe, you just don't have the physical strength to tap a guy out?"
Luke looked up, startled. "We have your blood, Wilkins's blood, and Detective Inspector Robert Lewis's blood at the scene of the kidnapping." Henderson watched Burgess blink at Robbie's name, then began to gesture in the air with his hand, just inches from Luke's face. "It all swirled and mixed in together, so we know you were there, at that moment, that it happened, So, tell us where he is."
"I don't know." Luke said. "I don't know what happened after we were at his house or why. I didn't know what Wilkins was going to do. I tried to stop him, then I got afraid and Wilkins threatened me if I didn't help him…" Henderson held up a hand, just a few inches from Luke's face. Luke looked to Lizzy for help but found no quarter. She simply stared back at him.
"I'm gonna stop you right there, son. Save that bullshit for your solicitor, no one in here has time for that." Luke looked from the two detectives to the wall. Henderson said, "What, exactly, do you think is happening to Detective," he paused, "Inspector," He paused again, "Robert Lewis, right at this moment, son?"
Laura gripped Hathaway's hand involuntarily. The purpose of the question was obvious: was Robbie alive, right now? Luke shrugged, sullen. "How should I know?"
Henderson nodded. "It's easy, isn't it. It is easy to justify what you've done, who you've helped, because you don't have to see the results, right? Well, this is what Graham Lawrie does to people. You saw Wilkins, didn't you? Did you look, Luke? Did you really look?" Lizzy took more pictures and laid them in front of Luke. "These cops that he's killed? Looks nice and pretty and philosophical, doesn't it, Luke?" Lizzy showed close up shots of the wounds. Luke looked away. "How about the families of all the people he's murdered?" More pictures. "The children?" Lizzy laid out all the rest of the photos, piled haphazardly on the table.
"Look, son. Look at all that destruction. A psychopath took you under his magic words and you ate it up. You are part of all of this now. Take responsibility for it, like a man. You weren't a man when you kidnapped a cop. Try starting now. What do you think Lawrie is doing to the man you kidnapped, right now?" Burgess just sat, arms folded.
They all stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Burgess said, "I'm not saying anything without talking to a solicitor."
Henderson sighed. "I guess we are done for the moment, we will see about that solicitor, son. Maybe get you some food?" Henderson sighed and looked at Maddox. She nodded. "Yep, we will get you some food, just take it easy now, son."
Lizzy looked back at Luke. When she announced to the tape that the interview was terminated, Laura gasped. "No, no, Jean, James?"
James turned a horrified glare to Innocent, who only studied the room. "Ma'am, you can't be serious, that was a joke. He knows, he knows where Robbie is right now…." Innocent put up a hand, silencing him. Lizzy was gathering up all the photos back into her folder. She glanced at the observation window and left the room. Henderson just sat, looking at Luke Burgess.
Finally, Henderson stood, arching his back to stretch. He then twisted back and forth, like the old ladies in the park trying to do aerobics, Luke thought. The big man smiled at Luke as he strode to stand by him, "Sorry, son, getting old. Been a long day." Luke looked up at him, confused. Henderson enormous hand shot out and gripped the young man's entire face. His whole hand covered it and Luke's own hands clawed wildly as Henderson lifted him from his chair and drove him into the wall. Laura and James both started, it had been quick, only a second. Innocent stared intently into the room, not moving, arms crossed.
Henderson spoke again, his voice low and controlled, and so very dangerous. "Son, there's obviously some things you don't understand about this world. Now, you think you do. You think you know about the world, that you have all the answers if only someone would just listen to you." Luke held on to the man's hand, toes barely touching the floor. "You know nothing. I have seen the depths of depravity, son. And as nasty as your friend Lawrie is, as dangerous, as sick, he is only doing what he does, hurting people, hurting Robbie Lewis, for himself. In his mind, there is no one but Graham fucking Lawrie." Henderson leaned in closer, his voice like rolling thunder. "You should see the depths that men and women will sink to, when they are doing it for the people they love. The people they respect. Their friends and family. Hell should take notes from those people."
He swung Burgess around and threw him back at the chair. Luke stumbled back into as Henderson stepped closer to him. His eyes were wide with fear. Luke stuttered, "No, man, you can't do that, you can't…" he looked around, wild, the shouted "Help!"
Henderson cracked his neck, ignoring his cries. "You're supposed to be getting an education. You should learn the difference between 'can't,' 'shouldn't,' he paused, "and 'won't.'" He leaned over Burgess, his bulk imposing on him, taking away his air and personal space. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "There are a lot of men and women out there, lots of cops, and they are good people. They do right every day, they help people, save people, bring justice to the world a little at a time. Somehow, they don't get eaten alive by the darkness they see every day, they somehow have the strength to keep going. They are dependable, trustworthy, honest…see, those are the cops like Robbie Lewis. Ask anyone here, they'll tell you he's great guy and great at his job. You know how rare that is? Great guy and great at his job? Usually, it's one or the other but…yeah, that's 95% of cops out there, Luke. Good people. Now, I'm not telling you this to try to convince you to have a change of heart, that you can still do the right thing. I am not Robbie Lewis. I don't care about you or your heart. I'm one of the 5% of cops left over from the good ones. I let the darkness in a long time ago." He leaned in further. "And what about that 5%? That 5% is waiting on you to let Graham Lawrie do whatever he wants to Robbie Lewis, not because they want anything to happen to Robbie, but because they feel it is inevitable. Because, at least, this time, when the inevitable happens, when a good man is taken away from his family, from his friends, from this world, they will have a target for their rage. And that target is you, Luke." He poked Luke in the chest with a thick index finger. "You think you can take one of ours, one of the good ones? You think you can read books and understand what the world is really like? Do you think law, justice, and rules will protect you? Because, let me assure you, we know the system, Luke, we live the system. No, son, we will be waiting for you. In here, out there, in prison, under whatever bed you lay your head. It doesn't matter where and it will not be quick. It will take exactly three days," he held up three fingers inches from Burgess' eyes. "Three days is exactly how long it has been since Robbie Lewis was taken from his home by you and you made the choice to refuse to help. You wanted a mentor that could teach you about the world, well, you just lucked out, son, because a whole lot of people are about to show you parts of the world that you can't even imagine existed. You owe us three days."
Henderson was so close to Burgess, their noses were almost touching. Burgess shouted, "It's some fucking house that Pam Carson bitch has access to, some relative's house. It's a shithole, in the country, with a cellar, that's where we left him, I don't know the address, I just know the way to it." Henderson looked up sharply at the observation window and then quickly turned from the room.
James and Laura looked at Innocent as they turned to hurry out. She said, "When you have a card like that sometimes you have to play it."
