by C. B. Lewis
It was amazing what losing 60 percent of your body weight could do to a person’s appearance.
The trouble was it was yet another piece of evidence they couldn’t use.
Jacob sighed, opening out his quill, and sent a brief message on to Kit, advising him that he should compare the two images.
It might be unusable, but it was still evidence of the part Harper had been playing in it from day one. Whether or not the DCIs—or whoever the hell was in charge of it all now—could use it as a means to keep him in custody until they could find more contemporary evidence against him was another matter.
A message came back a moment later: I thought you were having a break.
Jacob smiled ruefully.
Another message followed: Wait. I forgot it’s you.
Kit had included a picture of himself pulling a face.
“Ass,” Jacob murmured fondly. He switched the screen off, then tucked the quill back in his pocket and headed for the kitchen to put the kettle on.
Someone was moving about upstairs. He could hear the quiet creak of the floorboards. It was strange to be in another old house. It wasn’t as old as the Sanders house, but he had to wonder if there was something about people who worked with history choosing buildings that they could have visited the day they were built.
In Nagy’s case, he could understand why. He was a man who hadn’t been raised in purpose-built multistory complexes. A house like this would probably have been a luxury for him in his own lifetime.
In Sanders’s case, he couldn’t begin to guess what had drawn Tom Sanders to such an old-fashioned building. Given the technology he used, it must have cost a fortune to have the whole place made fit for purpose.
He poured water from the kettle into a mug, watching the coffee granules dissolve.
“Back again?”
Jacob turned, startled. He hadn’t heard Schmidt coming down the stairs. “Sorry. I just needed something to do.”
Schmidt’s lips twitched at one side. The day before, his makeup had been pristine. Today, there was no sign of it. His hair was disheveled. He wasn’t even dressed yet, in nothing more than a pair of shorts and a robe.
“If you want, there’s a Workaholic mug in the cupboard over the sink,” he said. “Janos is a weak fucker when it comes to novelty presents.”
Jacob smiled crookedly. “I think I’ll manage with this one. You want one?”
Schmidt studied him. Every time they had been around each other, Nagy had always been present. This was the first time Jacob had seen Schmidt on his own. “Go on, then. Jan’s in the shower just now. He’ll be at least an hour.” He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “You’d think hot water was a fucking miracle, the way he goes through it.”
Jacob filled a second mug. “You mind if I ask you something?”
Schmidt leaned one hip against the counter and shrugged. “Feel free.”
Jacob stirred some milk into his coffee, then held the bottle over Schmidt’s, raising an eyebrow. Schmidt shook his head, leaning in and taking his mug. “I was wondering how he adapted,” Jacob said, putting the lid back on the bottle. “I mean, to go from World War II to a computer programmer. They didn’t even have computers back then.”
Schmidt’s expression softened. “Because he’s a fucking genius, that’s how.” He took a sip from the mug. “Back then, he wanted to get an education, but he had to work the land for his family.” He met Jacob’s eyes. “Makes you wonder how many Einsteins we lost because they were poor or prisoners or killed or whatever, doesn’t it?”
“Zero to computer hacker in three years is pretty impressive, even for a genius.”
Schmidt started laughing. “Three years? You’re underestimating him. He taught himself how to use a computer in two months in his third language. When I say he’s a fucking genius, that’s not even the tip of the iceberg.”
Jacob looked at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Mm.” Schmidt’s eyes were dancing over the rim of his mug. “Hot, brilliant, and a sarcastic shit on top of it all. I hit the fucking jackpot.”
Jacob leaned back against the counter, wrapping both hands around the mug. “I get the feeling it’s a good thing we’re on the same side.”
Schmidt was silent for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder at the police files projected onto the wall of the living room. “I know he could get in trouble for all of this,” he began, then trailed off.
Jacob straightened up from the counter. “This didn’t happen. No one knows about it. No one will know about it. Once this case is closed, all of this is destroyed. It’s as simple as that.”
“Is it? You were on the side of the law.”
Jacob looked at him. “You’ve got the wording right: I was. Now, I’m not.” He walked back through into the living room, looking up at Harper’s face on the wall. “That son of a bitch got at least two people killed and orphaned a child in the name of profit. He would have blackmailed me into covering up for him. He fucked with people’s lives. I have no qualms about doing what I have to, to ensure he gets what’s coming to him.”
He heard a chair getting pulled out at the dining table behind him. “You got any idea what you’re going to do now?” Schmidt inquired.
Jacob turned back to face him. “Do?”
Schmidt had one arm propped on the back of the chair. There was something feline about his stance. Jacob couldn’t help feeling like prey. “Yeah. You said it yourself: he fucked up your life. You can’t go back to the force, and no fucking way are you private security material.”
Jacob snorted. “Thanks. I think.” He sat down at the end of the table, setting the mug down. “I don’t know. Hadn’t thought beyond the end of the case.”
Schmidt slid a coaster along the table toward him. “Mind if I ask you something?”
“If you like.”
“You figured out what the TRI did. You never said how.”
Jacob scratched at his cheek with his thumb. “Suppose it was like pieces of a puzzle. A lot of little things coming together: Sanders’s potential for jumping forward, the technology that was too advanced, stuff Kit said, the Potiorek conspiracy, the man who died before he was born. Time travel was the only way it could all make sense.”
“Even though you knew it sounded fucking mental?”
Jacob smiled. “I’ve been a copper for thirty years. You get used to seeing weird shit.” Schmidt raised his pierced eyebrow. “Okay, maybe not quite as weird as this, but you sometimes have to take a leap of faith on it.”
Schmidt sipped his coffee, then looked down into the cup. “You’re good at making sense of evidence, Mr. Ofori.”
“Jacob,” Jacob said quickly. “Mr. Ofori makes me feel old.”
Schmidt raised his eyes back to Jacob. “Jacob, then. You know what the TRI does. Things are up in the air now, but you and I both know there’s no fucking way the TRI is being shut down. We’ll be supervised. Monitored. Regulated. Whatever happens, they’ll come up with some bullshit, so we’ll be able to keep on doing what we do.”
Jacob nodded. Time travel was a valuable resource. People would want to use it.
Schmidt set his mug down on the table, his fingertips resting lightly on the rim. “What we do is investigate historical events. Put together the details we can, and then collect the information we don’t have.” He gazed at Jacob. “What we need is someone who is good at putting the pieces together.”
Jacob stared at him. “Are—” He frowned. “Are you offering me a job?”
Schmidt shrugged. “You know what we do. You know what the complications are like. You wouldn’t be coming into it because it’s this new and exciting time-travel bullshit. You know exactly what kind of shit you’d be landing in.” He sat forward, propping his arm on the table. “It’s not an easy place to work. Never has been, but when it’s good, it’s fucking amazing.”
Jacob felt that now-familiar sensation of the world shifting under his feet. “You can’t be serious. You don’t ha
ve the authority for—”
“Ask Mariam, then,” Schmidt said with a shrug. “You’ve already protected our interests. You’ve shown you’re fucking good at what you do and you’ll do what’s necessary. We’ve lost a shitload of staff, and along comes a man who has all the skills we need who has been fucked over by the same bastard who fucked us over. Doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me. She doesn’t think so either.”
Jacob picked up his mug, downing a mouthful of coffee. When he’d come around to work with Nagy’s files again, he hadn’t expected this result at all. He put the mug back down, frowning at it. “Does she know you’re asking?”
Schmidt nodded. “Jan let her know you were here. She told me to ask.”
“I’m guessing he’s not really in the shower at all?”
“Not for an hour,” Schmidt said. “He knew I was going to ask. He didn’t want to be around to sway your decision either way.” He leaned forward. “Look, I know this isn’t how you saw your life going. This whole thing has been shit for everyone. But this is an opportunity for you. You can liaise with whoever ends up being responsible for this mess. They’ll respect you for being the one who identified the TRI and brought it into the public domain.”
Jacob got up. “I need some air.”
Schmidt rose at once. “Take your time, but we’re serious, Jacob. The salary might be a bit shit compared to what you’re used to, but we could use someone like you.”
Jacob only nodded and headed for the front door.
It had been raining and the grass was shining and damp. He walked out across the lawn, to the edge of the garden. There was a swing suspended from one of the trees and he sat down, staring back at the house.
He was still sitting there fifteen minutes later, when his quill buzzed in his pocket.
The screen illuminated. Kit was calling.
Jacob hesitated, then answered the call. “Hey.”
Kit’s face filled the screen. “Thought you’d like to know they’ve traced the pod that took the girl to the station,” he whispered. From the look of his surroundings, he was in the staff toilets.
It should have been a huge relief, a triumph, but Jacob’s world was spinning off its axis. “That’s—that’s great.”
Kit frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m—” He broke off, then laughed tightly. “I don’t know. Everything’s happening too fast. I feel like I’m slipping and I’ve got nothing to hold on to.”
Kit glanced away from the camera, then back. “I don’t think they need me about anymore. Want to meet me at my place? To hell with the reporters. I’ll run you a bath, get some food in, and see if Luke wants to come over.”
Jacob’s throat felt tight, and he nodded. “Yeah. Please.”
Kit touched the screen. “Wish they made these so I could reach through. You’ll be okay to get back?”
“Yeah.” Jacob pushed himself up off the swing. “I’ll see you there in a bit.”
Kit kissed the tip of one finger and pressed it to the screen. “I’ll have the bath waiting.”
Jacob made his way back up the garden to the house. He didn’t really want to, not knowing that Schmidt would be expecting an answer, but he couldn’t just walk out without letting them know he was heading back to town.
Nagy was sitting at the table with Schmidt when he came in, and they both turned to look at him.
“I’m going back to town,” Jacob said before either of them could speak. “I need to think.”
Schmidt nodded at once. “You know where to find us.”
Nagy rose, lifting Jacob’s jacket from the back of one of the chairs, and crossed the room to give it to him. “I told him you are not a man who likes big surprises.” He offered Jacob a rueful smile. “But he wanted to ask quickly, before you find new job.”
“I get it.” Jacob pulled his coat on. “I do, and I’m grateful, but it’s—”
“A big surprise.” Nagy nodded. “Take all the time you need for this. It is a big decision.”
Jacob nodded, then stepped back out into the rain.
Chapter 52
PIZZA WAS ordered. Jacob was simmering in the bath. Luke was meant to be arriving any time in the next half hour.
Kit walked in a circle in his living room. He’d already been over it twice, tidying up things that didn’t really need to be tidied up, but it had been a long time since he’d had more than one guest visiting and he didn’t want Luke thinking his dad was involved with a slob.
Part of him wanted to nip into the bathroom and check on Jacob, but when Jacob had arrived, he’d looked so out of it, Kit got the feeling it wasn’t the time for damp cuddles. He’d herded Jacob into the bathroom, the room already full of steam and ambient light and music, and closed the door after him.
He sank down onto the couch, opening out his quill. It was that, he knew, or running about the flat and getting worked up about Luke’s impending arrival.
A touch dialed his mum’s number.
She answered at once. She always did, and he wasn’t surprised that she looked concerned. He hadn’t been calling enough, not in the last few weeks. “Hello, love. Everything okay?”
He waved his fingers. “All right, Mum. How are you?”
She gave him that look that said she could see through him. “I don’t think that’s why you’re calling.”
He looked down sheepishly, then back at the screen. “Just needed someone to talk to.”
“About work?”
He winced. Of course. She would have seen his job all over the news. “About that, Mum… I wanted to tell you, but—”
“Confidentiality.” She smiled. “I’m not daft, Kitten. Time travel, eh? Like Back to the Future?”
He tried to smile. “Sort of.”
“So you’ll be a bit busy to visit, then?”
He twisted his fingers together to keep himself from picking at his nails. “Mum, it’s all a bit mental up here. I’ve been helping the police with stuff. Trying to find the person who hurt my boss.”
She looked startled. “You can help them?”
His lips trembled. “Time-travel stuff,” he said. “I can help them with that and it’s good because we might be able to find who’s behind all of this and… and….” He breathed in and out hard, then blurted out, “I might have a boyfriend.”
They stared at each other for a moment, then she laughed quietly. “And you didn’t think you should lead with that?”
He ducked his head, wondering if he was blushing again. “It’s just—we’re starting out. He was one of the policemen.”
“Ah.”
“Whaddya mean ‘ah’?”
She laughed and made air quotes with her fingers. “Helping the police.”
“Mum!”
She leaned closer to the camera. “You take your time,” she said, “but when you’re less busy, I wouldn’t mind seeing you down here again. If it’s going well, bring him down with you. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my little man.”
Kit didn’t know who was more surprised at the quiet laugh from behind him. He turned sharply and Jacob was standing an arm’s length behind the couch. He was in his boxers and a T-shirt, but was still steaming gently from the bath. “Jacob!” He groped for his quill. “I was just ringing my mum.”
“I noticed.” Jacob approached the back of the couch and leaned down. “Afternoon, Kit’s mum.”
Kit looked nervously back at his mother. She gave Jacob a quick once-over and nodded in approval. Kit buried his face in his hand.
“Afternoon,” she said. “I’ll leave you boys be.” She winked at Kit, then cut the call off.
Kit flicked the screen away. “Well… that was Mum.” He looked back up at Jacob. “Sorry. I just needed to… there’s a lot of stuff going on, and she’s good at listening, and I didn’t know if you would mind if—”
Jacob leaned down over the couch, catching the back of Kit’s head in one hand, and kissed him. Kit made a soft sound of approval,
rising up on his knees, and wrapped an arm around Jacob, pulling him closer.
Both of them were breathing harder when they broke the kiss, and Jacob knocked his brow gently against Kit’s. “You talk too much.”
Kit kneaded at his back. “It’s been said.” He leaned up and kissed him again. “Feeling better?”
“Much.” He curled his fingers in Kit’s hair. “Thanks.”
Kit smiled, sliding his hand under Jacob’s T-shirt. “Glad I could help.” He traced his fingers up the valley of Jacob’s spine, and he could see the way Jacob’s eyes were darkening. Without another word, he climbed up onto the back of the couch and kissed his lover again.
The T-shirt had just hit the floor when someone pressed the door buzzer.
“Bugger it!” Kit groaned.
Jacob chuckled against his throat and unwrapped Kit’s legs from around his waist. “We’ve got time for that later.”
“Yeah?” Kit slid down off the couch.
Jacob’s smile was small but wicked. “We’ve got time and a lot of surfaces.”
Kit beamed, then dashed for the door. Mercifully, it was the deliveryman, which meant he had time to run to the bathroom and jump in a quick icy shower before Luke arrived. It was one thing to have your boyfriend’s son around. It was another thing to meet him at the front door with a stiffy.
By the time he came out, Luke had arrived and Jacob had spread the boxes of pizza out on the coffee table.
“D’you have a bottle opener?” he asked by way of greeting. “I brought beer.”
Half an hour later, the pizzas were reduced to scraps of cheese and burnt crust, and the beer bottles were empty.
Luke slouched back on the couch. “I could get used to this.”
“You’d have a waist as thick as a tree trunk if you did,” Jacob countered, closing up the boxes. He was kneeling on the opposite side of the coffee table from his son, and Kit had elected to sit at the end on a cushion. Jacob stacked the boxes up, then folded his arms on the tabletop. “Listen, something’s come up.”