IV - Chapter 2

Cassian and Elliott both stood silent in confusion. Cassian’s brows contorted and conflicted with each other, perhaps trying to judge how serious Hale was.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Hale raised his hands in defence, “I’m telling you, there’s no body, but there was enough blood on the ground that she was dead. The medics have already tested it and everything – it’s blood from the same person and it matches the information given on Ms. Voss’ hospital reports.”

“Why then,” Elliott asked the obvious question, “Where could the body have gone?”

Hale shook his head, “We are assuming that the murderer disposed it somewhere, although it’s not entirely clear why they would do that.”

Cassian asked, “Were there no marks of blood found around the house? No signs of the body being taken away?” and at Hale’s negative answer, he fell into a dead silence.

Elliott opened his mouth, then closed it. They were silent for a while as Hale and Elliott looked at Cassian’s silent form.

Finally, he spoke, “Well, let’s see what else we can find around here.” As he stepped away towards the fireplace, Hale took the opportunity to hole Elliott by the arm.

“Look,” the older inspective began, “He’s not supposed to be investigating this case because he’s affiliated with the victim and all that, but we do need him in on a case like this. While I’m in London – I’ll be back in around four days – your job is not to assist him but to look after him. Look after him so he doesn’t go too deep into this case. He doesn’t have a good record with…” here Hale waved his hand vaguely, “…things.”

Elliott listened to Hale’s hastened speech and nodded earnestly.

“I’ll ensure you get a pay raise too,” Hale added, and Elliott was only too happy to accept.

That night at nine o’clock, Elliott and Cassian rendezvoused at R&K’s, which Cassian had introduced as a break in the late evening after a day of fruitless labour. The older man ordered a nice cup of orange-flavoured coffee, and Elliott, unaccustomed with hard alcohol, got himself a cup of Earl Grey. It came in a paper cup and a teabag, and he felt insulted at the money he’d spent for it.

They both sipped their unconventional bar drinks and fell into semi-awkward silence. Elliott didn’t know what to say and Cassian was too occupied with thinking about what to say to notice he had spent too much time thinking about what to say.

Elliott started awkwardly, “Might I know your acquaintance with Ms Voss?”

Cassian nodded, shoulders hunched up against the cold that had not yet gone away, as he put down his coffee with one bony hand, “She was my mother’s friend, although almost a decade younger. She took care of me and my younger sister after my mother died.”

Elliott nodded. What should he say now? “Interesting” certainly wasn’t the right choice, “I see” would betray his awkwardness.

At this point, Cassian suddenly got hold of some knowledge he had previously thrown between the floorboards of his mind attic, “Why did you join the Yard? Where’re you from?” Awkwardly phrased, but at least improvement, no?

Elliott perked up happily, “I graduated from a small college in the north two years before. This is my hometown, and I came back to take care of my mother. She had pneumonia, but the doctors saved her.”

He paused a moment to ponder the logistics of his next sentence, “I joined the Yard because I’d helped them track down a burglar who, unfortunately, decided to break into my house while I was getting interested in karate.”

Cassian snickered through his nose, a sharp exhale that, coupled with the corners of his lips raised, presented a laugh. Elliott felt secretly glad that he could make his mentor brighten up a bit.

At half-past ten, after they’d chatted about some inconsequential topics and started to get vaguely comfortable with silence between them, they bid farewell and each headed back, Elliott to his mother and Cassian to his little flat.

They both wished they could have a nice, quiet sleep that night.