RPG One Per Minute [MVL]

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[center][FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][b]One Per Minute[/b] [/FONT][/size][/center]
[FONT=Trebuchet MS][center][size=1][i]Absus non tollit usum[/i][/size][/center]

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[center][size=1][URL=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?p=757173#post757173]Lost? See [b]The Underground[/b][/size][/URL] [/center]

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[SIZE=1]Detective Inspector Randolph Slade stood in the centre of the ransacked living room with his hands in the pockets of his brown overcoat. Blank faced, he pivoted slowly on the spot, eyes taking in all the details of the destruction that had been wrought there. His partner, Detective Inspector Chastity Llewellyn, stood to one side with one of the Constables who were first on the scene to discover the chaos before them.

At approximately 2am that morning there had been a call made to the local police station reporting an overheard domestic disturbance. The London-wide fear that had been instilled by the now coined ?Greenwich Incident? and the 32 follow up incidents in the past week had now prompted the Met to have extra constables on duty so as to more quickly respond to claims of domestic violence. There had been a nationwide campaign to renew the ?neighbourhood watch,? and thousands of curtain twitchers and busybodies immediately took up the call.

There were hundreds and thousands of reports all over the city of overheard violence or incidents, but in comparison there were only a handful of cases that DI Slade and DI Llewellyn were interested in. The press were cheering at the amount of work that was being done to emphasise safety in the home, but at the same time condemning the Met for not doing more to ?trap the aggressors that feel to take the law into their own hands.?

Slade didn?t care about the press or their snide comments. He?d been working long enough to know that the press was never satisfied with whatever the police provided. He quietly believed that, if they captured the Vigilantes tomorrow, the press would focus on why it wasn?t done last month before all of this mess happened in the first place. After that, they?d then go on to condemn the inactivity of the Government in protecting the people against terrorism?or overprotecting. It really depended which way the wind was blowing.

He sighed to himself and looked around the room again. Same trademark destruction, animal claw marks in places on the wall?spots of blood on the couch?and then the large pool of blood in the kitchen where the husband had been found dead.

?So the door was closed when you arrived, Constable?? DI Llewellyn asked.

?Yes m?am. Door was locked and we forced entry to find the house in the condition you see now.?

Automatically, Slade looked over at the broken front door. The frame was shattered around where the dead bolts had tried to hold their place. Splinters stabbed out where the locks had ripped through the wood when the constables had used the one-man ram to break down the door.

He frowned.

?This door wasn?t locked from the inside.? He said, not turning his head.

?Sorry?? Chastity replied, pen poised above her pad.

?Look,? Slade explained, pointing at the door, ?All the deadbolts were locked, correct??

?Yeah. If you lived in a neighbourhood like this, you?d want them locked and bolted?

?Right. But the security chain wasn?t.?

??I?ll admit that?s odd.?

Randolph walked forward, picking his way across the floor without disturbing anything unduly. He tapped a Specialist Crime Directorate Forensic service?s man on the shoulder and pointed at the damaged doorframe.

?I want a close up shot of where the two deadbolts smashed through the frame. Take particular note that bracket for the chain is still attached.? He said, putting on a pair of white rubber gloves.

Slade carefully shifted the broken door and inspected the locks. Sure enough there was the dangling security chain, no evidence of stress or strain on where it was bolted into the door. Had the chain been across when the constables forced entry, it would certainly have been wrenched out.

?It doesn?t mean anything, Randy.? Chastity said, almost in a scolding tone. ?They could have just forgotten to put it across. I forget it too sometimes.?

Slade didn?t turn around. ?In the past 32 cases, all the locks in the doors had been locked, and the security chain had been put across. It?s not a lynchpin in itself, [I]Chastit[/I]y, but it?s something to keep in mind. I think this man was locked in, not locking people out.?

Chastity wrinkled her nose. It was a small jibe at his expense to refer to him as Randy instead of his full name. She could tell when he was irritated when he replied back with her full name, despite her repeated emphasis to call her Chase.

?What else do you see then, Randolph?? She asked, waving the now awkward Constable out of the room.

?There?s no linearity to the destruction in this room. There?s no order to the chaos. It?s like-

-like someone just took to it with a baseball bat?? Chase finished, sighing. ?I know Randolph, this whole thing just doesn?t add up. It?s not one of ours but I didn?t want to say anything till you?d thought it out yourself.?

Slade stood up straight and walked back to Chase, frowning as he looked around the room again for what felt like the hundredth time. ?I?m willing to bet that the wounds made on our Mr McGee were not made by an animal. These supposed claw marks are too uniform, someone?s just run around and added them willy-nilly.?

?We?ll find out when we get the coroner?s report. Still we?ve got to do a proper job of it. There?s still another officer to interview and the neighbours to talk to before we can stamp this one off as a copy cat,? Chase sighed, closing her notepad and putting it into her jacket pocket.

?I?ll take the neighbours if you want to interview the last constable. We need to tread more carefully with our questions now. I?d say the wife has just moved into a couple flats away with a close friend until the heat is off. They didn?t have a car and her description was out on the transport system less than an hour after the call was made.?

Chase looked around again. ?If she did it,? she caught Slade?s look and shrugged, ?If she did it, she?s been planning this for a while. For an almost Greenwich, this is still pretty authentic. Woman has got to be pretty desperate to go this far, especially in front of the kid.?

Slade sighed and pulled off his rubber gloves. ?Don?t talk to me about desperate. This is murder, Chase. There is no excuse.?

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[Sere Tuscumbia]

[size=2][font=Times New Roman]Pardon for bad spelling/grammar mistakes that may occur - I'm not the best writer at 5 in the morning.
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"There's a definite difference between excuses and legitimate reasons, Randolph. While I don't condone what this woman might have done, it's obvious she thought that this was the only thing she could do. Or," Chase's tone was bitter, "she thought it was simply an easy thing to get away with."

Slade glanced over his shoulder at his partner. He knew that tone - Chase used it when she was stressed and working a case she couldn't stand. He knew why, of course - you never worked with someone without throughly researching their background first. He could pursue the conversation but knew it would do nothing to help solve the case, and let the matter drop - for now.

Chase pulled out and flipped open her notepad in the silence and quickly scanned the notes she had taken. "Randy, I'm not seeing a note."

"Beg pardon?"

"Was there a note with the body?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no. The constables never mentioned finding one."

"So not only is our victim dead instead of alive," Chase started, ticking off points with her finger as she talked, "the security chain isn't locked, the wife and child haven't [i]magically[/i] disappeared, the destruction doesn't match up with an animal, and to top it all off, the note that has been in [i]every[/i] other case isn't with the body."

Slade sighed. "Are you going somewhere with this?"

"It just proves that this case is in no way a Greenwich. I'll admit again that, at first glance, it's a very convincing imitation, but there are just too many inconsistencies to be the real thing." Chase took one more look around the room and sighed. "I wonder if the Greenwich came before or later."

"Is there really any point in speculating about it?"

Chase shot Randolph a look that he chose to ignore. "No, but I've always found it interesting to see just how close I can get to the actual circumstances. For instance, one has to wonder: why the kitchen? It's a perfectly plausible place to murder someone if you're in the middle of cooking, but since there's no mess that I can see - " there was a quick pause as Chase peered into the kitchen, " - unless the wife decided to wash the dishes after killing her husband, no one was cooking anything and therefore it's not a logical place to murder someone in the middle of the night."

"So?"

"So, let's say that one of the two - or both of them for that matter, I don't think it really matters - is up to get a midnight snack, and for some reason I'm not going to bother speculating about, a heated argument breaks out between the two. In a fit of passion, the wife attacks, sends her husband's soul on it's merry way to wherever it is destined to end up at, and then realises there's no way she's going to get away with this."

Slowly starting to pace around the room, Chase tapped a finger against her chin as she thought. "So she wakes the kid up - assuming the child isn't staying the night somewhere else - tells them that they're going on a little vacation and no, Daddy isn't coming along, then sends them packing to a friends while she stays to 'clean up the mess.' Makes the crime scene look as close to a Greenwich as she can, packs clothes for her and the runt, then heads off to wait for us to arrive to declare it a Greenwich and then she can relax and live a semi-normal life."

Another sigh from Slade. "Was there a point to all that?"

"For you? Probably not. For me? Of course." Chase absentmindedly tucked an unruly strand of hair behind one ear before sticking her hands in her jacket pockets. Before heading out the open doorway, she stopped and looked at her partner. "I'm off the interview the other constable then, since we're done here."

Randolph nodded a response, and then Chase was gone.
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[FONT=Trebuchet MS] [SIZE="1"]Slade sighed and looked back around the room, face carefully blank. He marched along the wall, looking carefully at the nocks and scratches in the plaster, brushing his hand carefully along. He paused, frowning to himself. He looked at the other walls in the room, and the frown deepened.

It was possible, but incredibly risky.

He followed the wall around, keeping his gloved hand brushing against the plasterboard. It lead around to what seemed to be the child?s bedroom. He stopped and walked back into the living room, shaking his head slowly.

Slade called out to the officer on the front door, ?Constable! I need you in here right now!?

The young bobby ducked into the house, removing his helmet and placing it underneath his arm. ?Sir?? He asked, looking straight ahead.

?Son, I need to stand right here.? Slade pointed at the floor beneath his feet. ?Don?t move from there. Call in two more of you over the radio, we may need them.?

?Sir??

?Just do it son. Say it?s an order from me and tell them to get over double time.?

Slade marched over to the kitchen, picking his way carefully through the room again. He stopped in the doorway and looked around carefully, behind him, the sound of the officer on the radio faded out. Something wasn?t right in the living room, aside from the murder, and something wasn?t right with the kitchen. It was too clean.

Chase was being her typical self, picking away at the things that just didn?t sit right. She was the perfect partner, because every thread she plucked at unravelled all of the uncertainty that clouded a case for him. The scene in the living room was too isolated in its destruction. One could speculate that a victim, upon being attacked in his or her own home, would try to at least make an effort to scramble the few feet to the knives or the telephone in the kitchen as soon as possible.

From countenance of the victim, he appeared to be the type that would make a run for a knife.

Slade squatted down, peering carefully at the floor and the bloodstain on the tiles. It had oozed carefully out from the body, flowing gently over the tiles and spilling smoothly along the channels created by the grouting. In the centre of the now tacky pool, there was the imprint of the husband?s body.

The smell- no the [I]stench[/I]- of the blood overpowered his nose. Years of work in the homicide department had eliminated his gag reflex, but still the odour was always powerful enough for him to be able to taste it. He coughed carefully into a handkerchief and put it back into his pocket. Shame the window was closed, even the brisk winter?s air would have been welcome. The air was so thick that Slade for a moment thought he?d be overcome by it.

He walked carefully around the counters, stopping at the wooden knife block. One was missing, as he expected. He stepped over to the stove and the small refrigerator, opening it carefully. The shelves were bare, apart from a bottle of milk. Odd.

?DI Slade? The other officers are here, sir.? The young constable stood to attention on the kitchen?s threshold, face slightly ashen. He had seen the blood and now the stench of it was getting to him.

Slade looked over his shoulder, waving him away as he spoke, ?thankyou constable. If two of you could just go and inspect the plaster wall on the far side of the living room. I want the other one of you on the front door, facing inwards.?

?Inwards sir? Into the house??

?Yes son. Now go before you pass out from the fumes.?

The constable nodded, now looking slightly green, and marched the few steps to the other officers, relaying the orders he?d just been given.

Slade turned back to the stove. He opened each cupboard above the benches, entirely nonplussed when he discovered they were empty, apart from a bag of flour and a few scraps of dry pasta.

That smell, above the blood.

He turned back to the stove and leant close over the hotplates.

Ah yes.

Bacon.

?Sir!?

Slade was out of the kitchen and into the living room before the constable had finished calling.

?Let me guess, you?ve found something?? He asked.

?Yes sir, Constable Delaney swears that the wall is too thick and I could swear that I heard something. Near the child?s room.?

Slade smiled. There wasn?t any humour in it. He nodded to the constable on the door, who closed it as best he could before turning back to face Slade.

?Sir?? The young constable looked confused.

Slade ignored him. ?Constable Delaney!? He called out, much louder than necessary, ?I want you to take the sledgehammer of yours and crack it right about-? he walked to the wall and slapped his palm against it ?-there!?

Constable Delaney looked puzzled, and his mouth began to frame a question, but then the wall burst open and all hell broke loose.

?Run Jack!? The woman screamed, rushing straight out at Slade, brandishing the bloody kitchen knife.

Slade was aware of the blur in the corner of his eye as a child rushed for the front door, hopefully into the waiting arms of the more clued in constable of the three. Most of Slade?s attention was focused on the wailing woman that was preparing to cut him several new ones. An inexperienced officer would have attempted to talk their way out, negotiating for her to put the knife down. Or, they would have scoffed at her, believing she could be easily overpowered. She was obviously emotionally unstable, most likely because she had just murdered her husband and had been living in the wall of her living room while police had spent the last several hours stamping around her flat. Keeping the child quiet must have been a nightmare.

An inexperienced officer would have scoffed, but Slade had seen the knife wound on the husband. Amateur knife wielders get lucky nine times out of ten, and that knife would cut through a bulletproof vest like so much rice paper.

Slade was dimly aware that the young constable beside him was now over his shock and was well on his way to becoming the next victim and posthumous winner of the next ?inexperienced copper? award.

?Miss, put the knife down, you are under a-

The woman screamed and whirled, in one smooth movement Slade flicked out his friction lock baton and brought it down smartly on the woman?s arm. Bones broke and the knife dropped to the floor. Slade kicked it away dispassionately, nodding to the shocked Constable Delaney, who quickly set about arresting the now sobbing woman.

Slade patted the, again, shocked young constable.

?Son, are you okay?? He asked, not unkindly.

The young officer nodded stiffly, still staring straight ahead as though into his own personal hell.

?Look, I can?t keep thinking of you as a no-name bobby. What is your name??

?C?C?Constable Robert Peel, s-sir.?

Slade noted the name to himself with wry amusement. ?Well Robert, what would you say to a nice cuppa? Lets go and have a chat, shall we??

Robert nodded slowly, and Slade picked up the man?s dropped hat and steered him carefully out of the flat, sidestepping as a few more constables rushed in.
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[Sere Tuscumbia]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Don't ask. Just read.[/size][/font]
[font=Times New Roman][size=2]---[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"So, just to make sure I've got all the facts completely straight -- around two AM this morning you received a call about a domestic disturbance at this location, correct?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]The constable Chastity had been listening to for the past several minutes fidgeted under her stare. "Yes ma'am."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"You arrived, bashed in the door, and found the flat empty except for one unfortunate victim and a crime scene looking suspiciously like a Greenwich, correct?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"Yes ma'am."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"Detective Slade and I were called in to case the scene, and deduced that the crime was not, in fact, a Greenwich, but merely the case of a crazy wife with a knife. But, while I had assumed that the wife and child had left the scene of the crime, you said that the exact same neighbours that have been staring out of their windows since I first arrived here -" Chastity waved without looking, and noticed that curtains were being hastily pulled shut, "- didn't mention a thing about the wife leaving the scene of the crime."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]" . . . yes ma'am."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Chastity sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in acute frustration. "Is there something wrong with this picture, constable?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]More fidgeting from the poor boy, and Chase was tempted to slam her hands down on his shoulders to get him to quit. He was making her antsy and [i]Christ[/i], she just [i]had[/i] to decide to quit smoking right before the most stressful case of her career, didn't she? "Yes ma'am."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Chastity hated being wrong. Hated coming to a conclusion simply to find that she had to start over from square one. Hated the sneaking suspicion that all the other decisions she made were as wrong as the first. She knew she couldn't be right all of the time, but she knew that people lived - or died - on her ability to be right 99.9% of the time. It drove her crazy when she was wrong.[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]And she knew she was wrong about this case.[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]The wife could have, perhaps, left the crime scene, but Chastity knew that the nosy neighbours that were once again peeking out at her from behind paisley curtains would have been spying out their windows since the first second they heard a noise, so escape would have been impossible without being detected. So it had to be that the wife and child never left the flat. But how? The entire team had combed the flat but found no evidence that the occupants were still inside. She'd have to ask Slade about it later - he was still inside.[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"Oh," Chastity gasped, coming to a sudden realisation. Slade was still inside with a crazy, knife-wielding widow, and Chastity knew firsthand how dangerous a woman with a weapon and a child to protect could be.[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Chase turned and stifled a yelp when she came face to face with Slade, who was staring at her with a look Chase could almost dare to call amused, if she didn't have any sense in her head. "Jesus [i]Christ[/i], Randy, warn someone the next time you decide to sneak up on them!"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"If I were planning on sneaking up on someone, warning them would ruin the point of being silent. And you were deep enough in thought it wouldn't have mattered even if I had said something."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"That's not the point I was trying to make and you know it. But anyway, Randolph, about the wife -"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Slade cut Chastity off by pointing to the side, and Chase followed his finger to see the sobbing woman being helped into the back of an ambulance Chastity hadn't even noticed had arrived.[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"How . . .?" Chastity let the question trail off in utter confusion.[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"She and the boy had been hiding inside a wall, but she was sufficiently lured out."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"Ah, that makes perfect -- what?" Chastity glanced at Slade, but he was completely serious, as always. "The wall?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Slade nodded and Chase gave off a low whistle of surprise. "Impressive. Pulling that off with a kid to keep quiet was clever work. And the boy? How is he?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"Perfectly fine. He'll need therapy, but he was physically uninjured."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]But Chastity had already run off after spotting the small boy from the flat, and Slade couldn't blame her. Once a Child Services agent, always a Child Services agent.[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Kneeling down in front of the boy, Chastity smiled tenderly. "Hi there."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]The boy chewed on his lip and looked thoughtfully at her before answering. " . . . hullo."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"My name is Chastity, but everyone calls me Chase. What's your name?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Another look, and then a timid response. "Jack."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"That's a good name, Jack. What do you say about taking a little ride with me, hmm? We've just got to work out who you're going to stay with while your mum gets better, and then we can go see her. That sound good?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Jack slowly nodded, and Chase took his hand with a smile at the constable who was in charge of the boy. The constable nodded and fell into line behind Chastity and Jack as t[/size][/font][font=Times New Roman][size=2]hey made their way over to where Slade was talking intently with a Sergeant and a small group of constables. "We almost done here, Randolph?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Slade looked at the small boy at Chastity's side and then up at her, and knew exactly where this conversation was going. "Handing him over to Child Services personally, are you?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"Would you expect any less of me?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]"It'd be futile to try and stop you anyway, I suppose. We'll be able to close this case soon - I'll finish up with the officers and then meet up with you later."[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Chastity nodded. "I'll give you a call if anything happens." Walking away, she gently squeezed Jack's hand, and smiled at him when he looked up at her. "You ready to go?"[/size][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][size=2]Jack looked back at the officers milling about the complex with an expression like he fully comprehended that he wasn't going back for a very long time, then stared up at Chastity. " . . . yeah."[/size][/font]

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Zack sat on the corner of his bed, quietly listening in the dark. It was well past his bedtime, and he had school tomorrow, but he couldn?t sleep. Mum was out tonight. She?d been out an awful lot with work and that, but tonight was different. She was angry all day yesterday, and he had the bruises to show for it. She said that the deli was closing down because the owner was retiring, so she was out of a job. Zack thought it was a good idea that she should take over the business instead, and he earned a solid cuff about the head for his suggestion.

When he came home from school yesterday, the house stank like the pub he passed on the way to school, and there was smoke rising from the ashtray on the table. Mum was asleep on the couch with her soaps on, so he did his best to go quietly to his room without waking her up. She needed her rest to get a new job and he didn?t want to make her angry.

He closed his door, but she woke up anyway. She kicked it open and it hit him in the face. He said he was sorry, but it didn?t help at all. She told him how it was his entire fault and how he was just as bad as his dad, who ruined her life. She told him that she could have been better than this; she could have had a better life.

Zack didn?t know what that meant, but his face was hurting a lot, he could feel a bruise rising. He started to cry, and earned a slap for it.

Mum left the room and went back to her soaps.

The next day at school, Mr Ingram asked him about the bruise on his face, and Zack told him the whole story. Mr Ingram told him that his mum shouldn?t do things like that, and he?d get someone to talk to her and tell her to stop.

Zack wanted to tell Mr Ingram that it was his fault, but he agreed and said it was a good idea. He felt bad about that, but he wanted his mum to be happy again.

So Zack sat in the dark, holding the only photo he had of his dad. He treasured it and had stolen it from the book of photos mum had thrown out. If she knew he had taken it, he?d be punished a lot worse than for just waking her up.

Zack reckoned Mr Ingram was a lot like his dad. His dad couldn?t have been as bad as his mum said he was. Maybe he was bad like him. Zack knew he made his mum upset, but that was only by accident. Maybe mum was angry with dad because he had too many accidents or made mistakes. Maybe she sent him away; maybe she?d send Zack away too. Then he could live with his dad and he could make things out of paper and glue like he did with Mr Ingram.

Zack liked that idea a lot.

The front door opened, he could hear his mum come inside. There was a crash as she knocked over the vase with the flowers he had picked for her. She heard her shouting and he realised that he had made another mistake. He wanted to hide, but he knew he should be a big boy and take his punishment.

He heard a man?s voice then, sounding funny like mum?s did when she?d been out. Something else broke and Zack sat back a bit on his bed.

?Zack! What is all this rubbish? Come out here!?

Zack wiped the tears from his face and got off his bed. He went to reach for the handle, but he stopped when he heard the noise.

It sounded like a big dog. There was a man talking. He said some long words that he didn?t understand, but Zack was sure it meant mum was being told she had been bad. Zack didn?t like that, but he was glad because it meant he would be okay. He thought he?d better thank Mr Ingram for sending people to talk to mum so quickly.

There was shouting, a lot of shouting and some growling from the big dog. Zack became worried as he heard more things get broken. He thought he?d better stop mum from hitting these people that were trying to help them, he pulled open his door to apologise and say it was his fault.

?Mum! I asked for help from school, it?s my fault I??

Zack looked at the big dog, it looked back at him. He looked at the man standing beside it. He was smiling, so Zack smiled.

?I?m Zack.? He patted the dog, which licked his face. ?This is a big dog, can I play with him??

?Certainly Zack. You go grab some things and you and your mum can come with me. Then you and Thane can play all the time. How about that??

Zack grinned, showing the gap in his teeth. He ran and grabbed his bag. He had filled it after school because he was going to run away to Mrs Dawson next door, but he thought it would make mum even more upset. He was glad now he hadn?t unpacked it yet. When he came back into the room he pulled a sandwich out of the bag and offered it to the big dog.

?Here you go Thane.? Zack grinned. ?It?s ham, I made it myself with pickles because they?re tasty.?

He laughed as Thane licked the sandwich and his fingers. The man smiled and held out his hand, palm facing up.

?Come along now Zack, you?ve got a lot of friends waiting for you.?

?Okay! Do you know Mr Ingram??

The man smiled and took Zack?s hand in his, quietly leading him out the front door.
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[Sere Tuscumbia]

[SIZE=2][FONT=Times New Roman]It's been long, it's been hard, but I uphold my end of the bargain and present the next post. I have no excuses. I have no reasons. I simply apologize for taking so long.

Also, as a disclaimer, I make stuff up like crazy in this post, and don't really care if it's right or wrong. =)

----

Chastity stared through the large window at the young boy who was sitting quietly and amusing himself with a small stack of papers and a box of crayons. ?Well?? she asked the woman beside her, her arms crossed. ?How is he??

Laura Coppersmith looked sideways at her friend and sighed. ?He?s got trauma, guaranteed, but I?m guessing a couple months of therapy and he?ll be adjusted enough to move in with a family.?

Chastity groaned. ?You make it sound like he?s some wild animal.?

?He?s in shock, Chase. It?s anybody?s guess how he?s going to react once he comes to his senses.? Laura grinned slyly. ?You?re a great example of that.?

?Not this again. Yes, I know: I was a horrible child and should thank you every day for having the patience to set me from my evil ways.?

?I couldn?t have said it better myself.?

?You did - more times than I can count those first few months. Although I seem to remember your speeches were far more . . . colourful.?

?You were wonderful inspiration.?

?I?m sure I was.?

Laura shared a chuckle with Chastity before turning and leaning against the wall. ?Why?d you come here, Chase? I?m sure your partner can?t be too pleased with you right now.?

Chastity grimaced, thinking of the stern look Slade gave her before she left. He wasn?t happy with her decision at all, and Chase could expect at least another stern look when she went back, if she was lucky. ?I don?t know why. I really don?t,? she said at the look Laura gave her. ?I know where my priorities lie - I?m not going to drop the case of a lifetime --?

?Of course not.? Laura said wryly.

?No, really. This is the biggest case in the history of the entire police force - when it gets solved there won?t be an officer that doesn?t know the birth names of everyone on the team. To drop this chance would be pure insanity. This is [I]it[/I], Laura. I leave this, and I might as well quit and go live on the streets. I just . . . ? Chastity?s eyes flickered to the figure in the chair as she trailed off.

Laura reached over and draped a companionable arm around Chase?s shoulder as Chastity turned and leaned against the wall. ?I understand.? They stood like that for a bit, Laura absentmindedly patting her friend?s arm, and Chastity enjoying the comfort.

The silence was broken by Laura?s perky suggestion. ?Say, when this all is over, how about a vacation? You, me, and a dozen tanned, half-naked men enjoying a year of sun, sand, and those fun little drinks with the umbrellas in them.? She waved a hand vaguely in the air before grinning at Chastity and suggestively wiggling her eyebrows.

With a laugh, Chastity broke off from Laura and lightly punched her in the side. ?And what would any of us do with a dozen young men??

A wink. ?I don?t know about [I]you[/I], but [I]I[/I] can think of at least three things off the top of my head [I]I?d[/I] do if presented with a dozen strapping specimens of the male gender.?

?[I]Laura[/I]!? Chastity gasped, scandalized. ?You?re [I]married[/I]!?

Laura took one look at Chase?s face and held her hands up over her head in surrender as she doubled over in laughter. ?I jest, I jest! I don?t know what to do with the [I]one[/I] man I?ve got, so forget twelve of them.? Her laughter subsiding, Laura wiped the tears out of her eyes. ?In all seriousness, though, Chase, why not give a break a thought? Anyone can tell that this case is stressing you out, and a week or two of relaxation would do you wonders. I?m not saying [I]now[/I],? she added quickly, as Chastity grimaced again, ?but sometime. You?re not the only person on the force, you know. We won?t burn down the department if you leave for a week.?

At Chastity?s incredulous snort, Laura rolled her eyes and turned back to face the small, white room on the other side of the window.

Chastity was about to open her mouth to make a retort when Laura made a small, strangled sound. ?Chastity, it might be in your best interest to check the door.?

Chase?s mouth opened and then closed in the perfect imitation of a fish. ?. . . what??

?I don?t see your charge.?

A sharp hiss of air as Chastity started to consider where could be going. But no, it couldn?t. It wasn?t possible. Slowly, she turned around and was greeted with the sight of an empty room. ?It?s totally impossible,? she repeated to herself as she surveyed the room in front of her. Everything was the same - two rickety metal chairs that faced each other across the small table, which had numerous sheets of paper scattered across it, and a couple crayons lingering around - but no Jack anywhere in sight. ?He probably just got bored and is hiding by the door,? she forced out hopefully, but neither she or Laura believed it.

Slowly turning the deadbolt, Chastity eased the door open and peeked through. ?Jack??

No response.

It was impossible. Unbelievable. She and Laura had been standing by the only door into the room the entire time. There was no way anyone could steal a little boy without one of them noticing. Opening the door further, Chase looked behind it and found nothing. A step inside, and she shut the door behind her, motioning for Laura to wait outside and watch.

Another hissing intake of breath as Chastity looked around the room. Besides the door, there weren?t any places to hide, and Chastity wasn?t liking what she was seeing.

Or wasn?t, in this case.

Striding over to the table, Chase put a hand on the seat of the chair she had seen the boy sit in, and found it still warm. ?This is absurd. Absolutely, completely [I]absurd[/I],? she breathed, before straightening and violently kicking the chair across the room, watching it ricochet off the wall and fall to the floor with a loud clatter.

Outside the room, Laura flinched, her face pale, as her detective friend let out a string of words loud enough to be heard through the thick pane, and none of them Laura would have repeated even in the worst of company.

Chastity kicked the door closed behind her and snapped open her phone with a vehemence that would have broken anything cheaper. She motioned to Laura to follow her as she started down the hallway, and was in the middle of a particularly venomous tirade about the sexual preferences of the mysterious kidnapper?s mother when Slade picked up the phone.

?I hope that?s not my mother you?re talking about, Chase. It?d absolutely break her poor heart to hear you talk about her like that.? Randolph sounded slightly amused.

?The boy is gone.? Chase wrenched another door open and marched over to a small bank of screens. After a moment?s glance, she waved Laura over and pointed at one screen in particular.

?Well I?d sure hope he would be, by now.?

?No, Randolph, I mean the boy is [I]gone[/I]. Here one moment and gone the next. And no, before you start accusing me of anything, I didn?t leave him unattended. I was outside the room the entire time, and turned around for one second to find him gone the next. The room was locked, empty, there were no signs of a struggle, and he wasn?t gone long as the seat was still warm. He simply [I]disappeared[/I].?

?Things like that don?t happen, Chastity. People don?t simply just disappear. He had to have gone [I]somewhere[/I].?

?We?re checking the tape now,? Chase responded, and both of them fell silent as Laura rewound the tape. Chastity held her breath as the replay started.

[I]Jack sits in the room, rocking back and forth slightly as he idly kicks his feet under the table. Pages and pages of scribbled-on paper surround him, the majority of them angry splotches of red and black. He looks to the side every once-in-a-while, smiles once, waves once, but spends most of his time filling pages with colour.

The scribbling slows. Stops. The crayon is put down, and Jack simply stares at his work with a blank expression. He looks as if he is desperately fighting the urge to cry, and losing the battle. He rubs his face with his hands, wins his internal fight, and is preparing to pick the crayon up again when he looks up suddenly at something off-screen, and asks a soundless question. The next second, the chair is empty.[/I]

?Good God, that can?t be. Laura, rewind the tape right before he disappears and slow it down. We have to be missing something.?

?What?s going on, Chastity??

Chastity sighed. ?I don?t know, Randy. The kid is there, and then he?s not. Nothing moves other than him.? She bit her lip as she watched the boy?s mouth move in slow-motion. She?d have to call in a lip-reader and find out what he was saying. Leaning over Laura?s shoulder, Chase squinted at the screen. ?Stop the tape, and then go forward frame by frame.?

?Chase . . .?

?I?m trying to find something, Randy, I really am. But there?s nothing ? wait. What was that? Go back, go back!?

Laura started rewinding again, and Chastity let out a disappointed breath. It wasn?t what she thought, after all. ?As much as it kills me to say it, we?ve got nothing.?

?Nothing??

?The best we can get is that the camera goes black the frame before he disappears, but that proves nothing. All that we can prove right now is that somehow a child went missing from a locked room in the plain view of a video camera, a police officer, and the psychologist on duty.?

Chase heard an exasperated sigh on the other end of the line and flushed. This was going to hurt when the press got a hold of it, and Slade knew it. A fake Greenwich turned into a real one, and the Met doing nothing to stop it. ?I?m sorry.?

?Nothing can be done about it now, so apologizing is wasteful.? Another sigh. ?Meet me in thirty. Bring the tape and the psychologist. We?ll figure something out.?

?I?ll be there.?
[/FONT][/SIZE]

[liamc2]

[FONT="Trebuchet MS"][SIZE="2"]Slade idly played with his phone, enjoying a brief moment of silence to assemble his thoughts.

?Everything all right, sir??

Slade put his phone back in his pocket and re-buttoned his coat against the sudden chill. He was not amused, but he didn?t show it. He wanted to contain this new development as much as possible before the media had a field day. The Sun, in particular, had been rather uncharitable of late.

?Are you okay, Detective Inspector Slade??

Slade cleared his throat. ?Yes, Constable Peel. DI Llewellyn was just informing me that she?s placed the child in the care of Protective Services.?

Constable Peel looked at Slade quizzically, knowing that the half conversation he had heard was more than enough to let him know that something different entirely had happened. He opened his mouth to say as much, and then noticed that the previously friendly DI Slade had a storm brewing in his stony countenance.

Constable Peel nodded, ?good to know, sir.?

Slade said nothing.

Constable Peel decided to put his foot in it. ?That kid will be nice and safe there, better than being in a hole in a wall with a crazy mum.?

[i] ?Detective Inspector Slade. Come in DI Slade. This is Bravo Golf?[/i]

Slade unhooked the radio microphone from Constable Peel?s chest, who almost visibly flinched under the Detective?s reach.

?Go ahead Bravo Golf, this is DI Slade.?

[i] ?We have eight more Greenwich incidents reported across the greater metropolitan region. This is your show, please advise.?[/i]

Slade ignored the incredulous expression on Peel?s face and replied, ?Understood Bravo Golf. Call in forensic to all eight incidents. Cordon off the streets. I want every person who was even in earshot of the incidents to be talking to a bobby in the next thirty minutes. Am I clear??

[i] ?Loud and clear, sir. Will detectives be attending these scenes??[/i]

?One Homicide and one Child Protection. I?m assuming these incidents are perfectly spaced out to accommodate each region??

There was a stunned silence. [i] ?You are correct, Detective.? [/i]

Slade muttered to himself, ?someone wants us to waste our time,? and said over the radio, ?One Homicide, one Child Protection Detective to each crime scene. They need to be seasoned and know forensic. I want them all to report to me in my office in the next three hours, understood??

There was silence from the radio room; someone in there was obviously trying to decide whether they wanted to take responsibility for a logistical nightmare, or whether they wanted to say no to a Detective.

[i]??understood DI Slade. Bravo Golf out.?[/i]

Slade re-hooked the radio back to the silent Constable.

?DI Slade, sir!? Constable Delaney was at a half run, obviously excited about something. ?Sir! Forensic have arrived, they want to know if they can go through, or would you like to double check for more false walls first, sir??

Slade straightened up and looked at Delaney, ?son, did they tell you to rush down here and say that? Why didn?t you just use the radio??

Delaney looked taken aback. ?Yes sir, he did sir. Told me I needed to say it in person.?

Slade squinted up at the level on the block of flats, where he could see the white cover-alls of the forensic team. ?Constable, you can go back up and tell that two-bit Photographer, Wash, that he needs to pull his head in and get on with his job. And to stop trying to bait me with new Constables.?

Delaney had the decency to look sheepish. ?Will that be all, sir??

?No.? Slade smiled, in a this-isn?t-funny kind of way. ?If you keep allowing yourself to be bossed around by every idiot in forensics, or with a camera for that matter, you?re never going to work with me again. Move it.?

Delaney looked visibly relieved, not at all disappointed by this prospect, ?yes sir, sorry sir.?

Slade glanced at, the still silent, Constable Peel. ?Oh, and another thing. Constable Delaney??

?Yes sir??

?Tell your skipper that I?m officially requisitioning and transferring Constable Peel here to my department, and that your skipper will need to take care of the paperwork and put it on my desk.?

Constable Delaney?s mouth dropped open, ?our skipper isn?t going to like that, sir.?

Constable Peel didn?t seem to like that either, his face was ashen and he looked as though he was going to pass out.

Slade looked thoughtful, ?is your skipper Sergeant Michael Bloom??

?No sir, Sergeant Lennox. Bloom is our Guv- I mean, it?s Inspector Michael Bloom now, sir.? Delaney had subconsciously taken a slight step backward while delivering this information.

Constable Peel was looking morosely into his, now cold, cuppa. He was trying very hard to not get eye contact with Slade.

Slade laughed, ?it?s about time the old bastard got his dues. Excellent, makes this easier. Pass on the same message to Inspector Bloom for me, then. He?ll know who I am.?

?Yes, sir.? Constable Delaney twirled his cap and added awkwardly, ?good luck Robert, I?ll see you at the pub after, alright??

Slade cleared his throat carefully, and Delaney positively sprinted back to the flats.

Peel summoned the courage to speak. ?Are you serious, sir? What do you need me for? I only just finished my first year out and I?m supposed to be in traffic next week??

Slade steered Constable Peel towards his car. ?I need a Constable to do a hell of a lot of paper work and data entry. The biggest case the Met has ever seen is hanging over our heads and my partner and I are not going to have time to sort out the little details.?

Peel swallowed. ?Yes sir.?

Slade unlocked the Rover and slid into the driver?s seat. Peel reluctantly sat in the front seat, carefully removing his helmet again and sitting it on his lap. Slade started the engine and began reversing out into the street. They had gone through two sets of lights before Peel opened his mouth to speak, when they had stopped at the third.

?Sir??

Slade shifted gears and absentmindedly revved the engine. ?Mm? What is it, Constable??

Peel fidgeted and faced Slade, ?is this because I overheard DI Llewellyn tell you about the young lad disappearing??

Slade let out the clutch and set off through the green light, ?not exactly, Constable. But I like the way you think.?

Peel looked down at his helmet. ?Um. Thank you, sir.?

?Constable Delaney didn?t notice how the walls matched up, did he?? Slade indicated and turned down a little side street, taking one of his shortcuts. ?When did you notice something wasn?t right??

?Honestly, sir?? Peel looked up at Slade. ?That blood, all over the floor. It sort of looked like it had pooled almost under the wall, near where that woman burst out. I noticed it but there was?so much of it?I?? Peel looked green again.

Slade reached out and flipped the Constable?s helmet upside down, holding it like a bucket. ?Don?t throw up on the leather, there?s a good chap. I had enough trouble cleaning out DI Llewellyn?s smoke aura, I don?t want to worry about your lunch.?

Peel groaned.

?I?m certain you don?t want to cleaning up your own sick to be your first impression of the department either.? Slade allowed himself a small smile. ?Robert, I?m impressed that you noticed such a tiny inconsistency. I knew something was up, but I didn?t have evidence why.?

Peel leaned back in his seat, breathing heavily. ?Thank you sir, sorry sir.?

Slade indicated again and pulled into the department?s parking lot. ?I will warn you though, if you don?t bring evidence directly to my attention immediately, or try to pin your discoveries on a lie or someone else to avoid responsibility, I will transfer you back to where you came.
?You?ll work the traffic night shift for the next three years, understood??

Peel?s stomach churned. ?Yes sir. Won?t happen again, sir.?

Slade opened his door. ?Excellent. I?m sure you?ll fit right in then.?

Slade waited until the young bobby had composed himself and had gotten out of the car. He was probably being too hard on the lad, but if he didn?t put the fire on now, young Constable Robert Peel may never enter the CID. He had talent, that much was obvious; he had a sharp eye and possibly a keen mind that might be useful to Homicide. The poor kid just needed to get his sea legs and maybe an injection of confidence.

Peel inhaled deeply and put his helmet back on.

Slade watched him take in the sheer size of the CID, and smiled another mirthless smile. Maybe it wasn?t such a good idea to introduce him to Chase so soon. He stepped up toward the CID building, not asking Peel to follow, but knowing he'd follow in his wake.

Only one way to find out.
[/SIZE][/FONT]

[Sere Tuscumbia]

[FONT=Times New Roman]To make up for a . . . 4 month absence, I bring you a 2,500+ word monstrosity. Have fun reading it.

I, once again, make stuff up like crazy. Also, please excuse any spelling mistakes in the text. I triple-checked, but I have a problem with mixing letters around and they like to escape my radar. =)

---

Chastity was already there when Slade walked in, slumped at her desk with a sullen expression. "Don't even [I]start[/I]," she said in his direction as Slade's eyes found her.

"The papers are going to have a field day if, and when, this information gets out, Chastity." Slade unbuttoned his coat and draped it over the back of his chair after sliding it off.

"I [I]know[/I] that, Slade." Chastity slammed her hands on the desk as she stood up. "It's not like I went up to the kidnapper and said 'Here, steal this kid from [I]right under my nose[/I].' I took my eyes off Jack for [I]two seconds[/I] and he went poof!"

"Children do not just go 'poof'," Slade said, emphasizing the statement with air quotations.

"They do now," Chastity muttered as she sunk back into her chair. "There's no other explanation for it, Slade. You can look at the tape - there's only one way in or out, and the kid doesn't even move from the chair the entire time. He goes 'poof'." She mimicked Slade's air quotations.

"Chastity--"

"I don't know what other way to say it!" Chase threw her hands up in exasperation. "I had no choice in the matter. No [I]control[/I]. There was nothing I could have done that would have changed the outcome. What did you want me to do? Handcuff him to me? Jack didn't fit the traditional conditions under which these guys nab people, so, frankly, I wasn't expecting him to be made off with. My bad."

Slade sat down, his arms crossed. "He fit most of the conditions."

"Yeah, other than the one glaring fact that the whole situation was [I]over[/I] by the time they got to him. Plus, in all the cases, the children were victims of physical abuse, and we have no clue if Jack and his mother were indeed victims of abuse. His mother could have just been a total psycho and maybe the father just wanted a divorce so she murdered him. There's no way of being able to tell if [I]they[/I] were the victims or if [I]he[/I] was. Jack may have fit most of the conditions, but he didn't fit the most important ones."

"I'll give you that." Slade reclined in his chair. "So what --"

"--oh, hello." Chastity interrupted Slade as she noticed the figure that had been silently standing by the door. "You were one of the constables at the scene earlier."

"Meet the newest member of our team, Constable Robert Peel."

Chastity took a moment to eye Robert, who was trying desperately to look at everything but Chase. A quick glance at Slade before Chastity refocused on Peel. "He was there when you got the phone call, wasn't he?"

"Yes, but that's not the only reason he's here. He'll be helping with paperwork and such."

"Oh hallelujah!" Matthew Montgomery peeked his head from behind a stack of papers, grinning broadly.

"That doesn't mean you'll be free any time soon, Matt," Chastity chuckled, freeing Peel from scrutiny. "You're still assigned to investigation, and therefore deskwork."

Matt groaned. "And let me guess: Jonathan still gets to pull rank on me and do all the fun outside work, right?"

"Speaking of, where is Mr. Crankypants?"

"Out. Somewhere." Matt ran a hand through his dirty-blonde hair and looked exasperated. "When I got the call from you that you were on your way, he grabbed his coat and suddenly left, announcing that he was going out to work on the cases."

"[I]Figures[/I]," Chastity remarked. "Honestly, why does that boy hate me so much?"

"Who?" Laura asked from where she was sitting and absentmindedly twisting Chastity's Rubik's Cube around.

Chastity waved her hand dismissively. "Jonathan Galloway. He's from Serious and Organised Crime, and a thoroughly unpleasant sort. He also appears to be unable to stand my company - he's barely civil when talking to me. If Slade hasn't picked him because he was so damn good at his job, I would have taught him a lesson or two by now."

"So what do we have, then?" Slade asked impatiently, trying to bring the discussion back to the case at hand.

"Other than the magically disappearing child?"

"Other than that, yes, Chastity."

"These." Chastity slid two things across the desk at Slade, who picked them up as they slid off the edge of the desk: a videotape, and a small, torn sheet of paper in a plastic bag. "That's the video you wanted, and the paper was found and brought to my attention by Forensics."

Slade looked at Chastity. "They certainly were fast."

"Oh, I'm sure the fear of a very, [I]very[/I] angry DI Llewellyn convinced them to move a little faster," Laura quipped from the chair in front of Chastity's desk.

When Slade looked in her direction, Laura smiled and mock-saluted. "Cogsworth, Laura. Psychologist on duty when this whole mess happened. Reporting as requested, sir."

"Ah, right." Slade gave her a second glance before holding a bag up and staring at the paper inside it with a critical eye. "You didn't mention this in the phone call," he said simply in Chastity's direction.

"Simple reason: I didn't see it. It was underneath the other papers, apparently. But it secures our guys as the ones behind it. See?" Chastity got up and half-leaned, half-sat on Slade's desk, ignoring his murmur of dissatisfaction as she pointed at the bottom of the paper. The same indecipherable signature was scrawled there in teal crayon.

Slade studied the rest of the note. "Well, this is certainly cryptic." He pointed at the single sentence written in sloping, elegant script above the signature. "'He'll be happy now,' eh? This isn't the child's handwriting, correct?"

"You'd be correct. I brought the note straight here, so I haven't had a chance yet to hand it over to analysis to see if we can match it to anyone."

"When this meeting is concluded, head straight over and drop this by analysis."

"Roger."

"Also, what about this tear?"

"I'm not too sure about that, actually, " Chastity admitted. "None of the blank papers we gave Jack to draw on were ripped. Considering there were no signs of a struggle, so no way for the note to be torn that way, I can only speculate that maybe there was other writing on the note that our kidnapper didn't want us to see . . . or maybe they just spelled a word wrong, who knows."

"Anything else of interest?"

"Nothing about the note, no. Perhaps when the handwriting analysis comes back. I'll drop the paper by Forensics and see if they can get anything as well. The tape, however, is a different story."

Slade pulled the tape out of the plastic bag and popped it into the player, motioning for the others to assemble around him.

The all watched in silence as the tape played through, Chastity's expression getting darker the longer it played.

When the screen blipped and Jack disappeared, Matt jumped in shock. "Whoa! Where'd the kid go?"

"That's exactly what we're trying to find out. If you rewind for a little bit," Chastity crouched down to manually manipulate the player, "And then pause here . . . see?"

"What's that?"

"I'm not sure. It's like someone put their hand in front of the camera for a second, but how they knew where the camera was hidden or managed to reach it while being completely hidden from view is totally unknown. Or how they even got into the room in the first place."

"Could they have been behind the door?"

Chastity gave Matt a 'What do you think I am? Stupid?' look. "That was the first place I looked, and it would have been impossible anyway--"

"--the door was closed when I was in the room talking with Jack earlier," Laura finished Chastity's explanation. "There would have been nowhere for them to hide. And how could they have known the exact time Jack was going to be in that exact room?"

"Inside job?" Matt asked, resting a hand on Chastity's shoulder to squint at the screen like it would magically reveal the answers to him if he stared hard enough.

"It's something I'd rather not consider, if I can help it." Chastity sighed as she removed Matt's hand from her shoulder. "This case is already messy enough without having to worry about an insider. If we worry about it being on the inside, we're wasting valuable time narrowing down other possibilities. If we can't find our guys on the outside, then let's start looking inside."

"An insider would be more plausible. There were eight more cases reported while I was with Constable Peel."

Chase looked up at Slade. "And you were going to tell me this [I]when[/I]?!"

Slade pointedly ignored Chastity's outburst, focusing his attention on the TV screen.

Chastity pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, forcing herself to calm down. They had been busy talking ever since he had walked in, and being her superior, Slade was hardly obligated to report every single detail to her. "And?"

"Eight cases, spaced evenly out for each region. I sent a Homicide and Child Services officer to each location and they are expected to report to the office in the next three hours."

"And these cases," Laura asked, looking thoughtful, "did they all occur around the same time?"

"They were all reported together, so yes, I would say they did."

Peel finally spoke up from his place at the fringe of the group. "For eight separate kidnappings to happen at the same time . . . that's nearly impossible."

"Under normal circumstances, yes." Laura paused, shifting her weight from one foot to the other before continuing. "But these are quite obviously not normal circumstance."

"What are you getting at?"

"Well, take Jack's case for example. Someone managed to take him from a locked room while staying completely undetected by both the camera in the room and two people standing right outside the room. There were no signs of a struggle or even resistance from Jack, and no one outside the room heard even a peep from the child the entire time. It defies all the normal patterns of a kidnapping."

"Our main problem being how the kidnapper managed to enter and exit a room completely undetected." Slade swiveled his chair to refocus his attention on Laura.

"Yes. Chastity filled me in on the most general details of the cases on the way over here, and . . ."

"And?"

Laura looked uncomfortable. "I believe that the kidnappers are not using normal, everyday means to assault these families. There is no way a normal break-and-enter kidnapping could be carried out as silently, as quickly, and as intrusive as these all seem to be. Neighbours never happen to hear anything until the attack is either over or nearly over, and no one has ever seen the kidnappers entering or leaving the home."

"So what are you saying?" Matt asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

When Laura paused, Chastity spoke up. "What she's trying to say is that maybe the kidnappers don't enter and exit the area in a normal fashion. That they sort of just show up and well, [I]disappear[/I] inside the home."

Matt snorted, and covered his mouth in embarrassment. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to, but that's just so . . . so [I]implausible[/I]. You're really trying to say that these guys [I]magic[/I] themselves in and out of people's homes?"

"I don't know if I'd go so far as to say '[I]magic[/I]' but something certainly abnormal. Neither Laura nor I can come up with any normal way for Jack to have been kidnapped, unless there was some very high-tech, very expensive equipment being used. And if that were true, what sort of group would be willing to pay that sort of money to "rescue" abused children and parents? What would be their purpose?"

Just then, the phone rang, and Chastity leaned over Matt's back to answer it. "Vulnerability Unit, Detective Inspector Llewellyn speaking," she said, over Matt's protestations. Shushing him with a slashing motion of her hand, Chastity listened to the voice on the other end with an increasingly grim expression. "I understand, thank you. I will let Detective Inspector Slade know immediately," she finally said, and set the phone back down in the cradle.

"You expression tells me that the news is something I probably don't want to hear, but tell me anyways."

"Randolph, I hate to be the bearer of [I]more [/I]bad news, but . . . Jack's mother has disappeared from the hospital. There are no records of her being discharged, and there are no eyewitness who report her leaving. The hospital is currently conducting a search; however, I have a feeling that they're not going to find her."

Peel noticed the same expression come over Slade's face as before - a mask of deliberate calm, but the glint of his eyes revealed just how displeased he was. He smiled, looking pleasant on the surface, but it was a terrifying, mirthless smile to anyone who knew Slade personally.

"Well then, this is certainly troublesome." Slade stood and brushed the wrinkles out of his slacks. "Constables Peel and Montgomery," Slade called, and they both snapped to attention. "I want you two to track Detective Sergeant Galloway down and fill him in on the recent events, then you three will visit the eight new scenes and see what information you can dredge out that may have been missed. And kindly inform Galloway that he is not to even lift a finger without an order from me first, much less do independent investigating on a silly whim."

Slade slipped his coat back on, and was in the process of buttoning it back up when he turned to Chastity and Laura. "Mrs. Cogsworth, your help was much appreciated. Due to the unforeseeable circumstances that have made you privy to some of our more private information, I'm sure Detective Inspector Llewellyn will be keeping in touch with you with any news on the cases. Any time you feel that you have an idea worth sharing, feel free to stop by. Chastity," Slade looked over his shoulder at her after opening the door, "you know what to do."

"And you?" Chastity asked.

"I will be heading down to the hospital to inquire as to why and how a homicidal mother seemingly vanished into thin air. If the teams from Homicide and Child Services arrive before I get back, take care of them, then call me. Meeting dismissed." He shut the door after himself.

Everyone paused for a second after the door closed, before Chastity clapped her hands twice at Matt and Robert. "Well, what are you waiting for? You heard his orders. Slade was highly vexed - I wouldn't suggest wasting any time loitering around here and risking his wrath when things at the hospital go badly and he comes back." She threw Matt's coat in his direction and shooed the two of them out of the office.

"Do you want a ride back to the office or straight home?" Chastity asked as she handed Laura's coat over and shrugged her own on.

"Back to the office, please, and you're worried, aren't you?"

"Back to the office it is then, and worried about what?" Chastity grabbed her scarf from the coat rack by the door and wrapped it around her neck, then grabbed the note, popped the tape out of the player and turned the TV off.

"Worried about Slade."

"Oh. I suppose. He's never that verbose. Never." Looking at Laura, Chase laughed. "I feel bad for the poor people at the hospital. If Jack's mother doesn't turn up, all hell might just break loose."

Laura followed Chastity out the door, and then the office was empty.
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