With a headshake, the DI muttered, 'Terrible, terrible, Marques tried to drive you down. And I believe she would have ploughed straight over Georgie Harvey if you'd left her where she lay, is that right?'
Franklin shuddered. Thank God I moved her.
'So, first-rate actions. Good job.' Inspector Knight adopted a stern air. 'Having said that, you've made a heck of a lot of mistakes over the past few weeks, Franklin. I can't abide shoddy work and that extends to officers withholding crucial evidence, entering dangerous situations without backup and involving civilians in official investigations. Just to name a few of your recent transgressions. Do I make myself clear?'
That's more like it. Amused, Franklin said, 'Yes, sir.'
'Eddie,' the DI corrected. 'We don't need to stand on formalities.'
Franklin's brow wrinkled. One minute his arse was kicked and in the next one, licked.
'I hear Georgie Harvey is fighting back well,' Knight commented.
'That's great news,' Lunny interjected.
'She's young, the injuries not too serious, she'll recover quickly, I'm told.'
The hospital should have told me that.
To be fair, maybe they'd tried while the Hommies had him buttonholed, mobile on silent.
'Now. I hear you're keen for a try at the suits, John.' Knight smiled.
Franklin frowned. 'You mean this secondment thing?'
'No, I mean you want a crack at CI.'
Franklin glared at Lunny, who grinned and flushed.
'I haven't decided.'
'Don't procrastinate. None of us are getting younger.'
'I've got a number of things to work out, sir; Eddie.'
Knight rose, extending his hand. 'I'm aware that you're a single dad and you've issues with your daughter. They can all be worked through - Tim will do whatever he can, won't you?'
Lunny bobbed his head. 'Maeve and I are always happy to look after Kat, you know that. She already half lives with us and she's a good kid. Whatever you need, we'll help.'
'Good, good. John, I think you've proved an aptitude but the ball's in your court. When you're ready, I'll sign off the request.'
Dismissed, Franklin tracked down Wells in the watch-house. He knocked the constable's writing hand and a black line marred the pristine report.
'Whoops. Sorry. Mate.' Franklin winked.
Wells scowled.
Franklin hitched his service belt and tapped his holstered revolver with exaggerated swagger; you don't hang onto your weapon while suspended. Wells's shoulders slumped.
When he left the station, Franklin's grin dropped. He winced at Lunny and Knight's confidence, their certainty that he'd request the promotion and make a good detective. He didn't know what he wanted. One part craved change. The other shrank from it. Consider how sure he'd felt about Donna, only to scrape the remnants of their relationship - all except their daughter and the bloody cottage - into the bin a few years later. Maybe he'd regret whatever he did now equally in the future. But maybe, just maybe, it'd feel far worse not to try.
It was more than career choices that Franklin contemplated.
CHAPTER 13
Wednesday 24 March
'Ruby's beaten you home, George.'
Still woozy with anaesthetic and analgesics, Georgie weighed speech, a smile or nod. All involved too much pain and effort. She grunted.
Perched on her bed, AJ went on, 'We were worried how the news would affect her. I suggested not telling her about Susan and Roly until she was totally well.'
Georgie tried to lift an eyebrow but it didn't move.
Perhaps it did fractionally, as AJ chortled. 'Yeah, that went down like a lead balloon. Michael waved around his walking stick, even stamped it on the floor.'
He jumped off the bed, which bounced Georgie and set off a domino of twinges. His arms and legs flailed as AJ mimicked their aged neighbour.
'I've never seen him spit it before. He told me and the doctor Ruby was bound to find out soon and there'd be hell to pay if she heard about it from the TV or someone else. And it would either kill her, or she'd kill him, if she missed the funeral. The doc had staff on standby in case Ruby took it badly but it seemed to make her suddenly stronger. As if she willed herself well for the funeral. Bizarre.'
Georgie lifted a hand. She wanted to say, Yeah, but she was already kicking goals. The doctor said she'd be home in a few days when I saw her last. On Monday.
'I know, I know,' AJ answered her thoughts. 'She was getting better every day. But the shock could've been a real set-back. A disaster, even.'
He chatted about a number of mundane domestic matters. He prowled the hospital room, sniffed floral arrangements and read aloud cards. He chuckled over the array of dark chocolate assortments; people knew her weakness.
She drilled him with an exasperated look and finally he quit dodging.
'The surgical realignment of that pretty nose of yours went without hitch. Quite straightforward as far as operations go.' He tried for a light-hearted tone but botched it. 'Overall, you've been lucky. Fractured collarbone, dislocated left shoulder, tendon and ligament damage and bruised ribs. With strapping and rehab, they'll heal fine. It could've been a lot worse.'
Georgie blinked. Tears stung. She gasped, which made her torso shoot with pain.
'George! Are you OK?'
Reassured by her mumble, he said, 'Seriously, you've come out of this lightly. I can't believe you went onto Schlicht's farm without a second thought. It was stupid. You could have…'
He broke off. Georgie saw him gulp.
Still in an unnatural pitch, he said, 'You should be out of here in days. Although it'll, it'll take a few months to recover properly.'
You're lying. There's more isn't there?
He turned away. Georgie stared at the back of his head for a while. Then dropped to the pillows, shut her eyes and blocked the stark whiteness. She couldn't mute the hospital noise so easily: buzzers, laughter, clatter and a telephone that nobody answered. Her body and brain started to numb. Soon her chin sank to her chest.
'Bron and Jo will be in shortly.' AJ's voice jerked her awake. 'They've been here on and off since you were brought in. All of us have. And half the police force.'
He laughed but the word 'police' jolted Georgie. She shifted, her body cried out. She reverted to the original position.
Really?
'The nurses reckon that the cop who saved you visits every spare chance. And they said even the District Inspector stopped by. You didn't know? You must've been out of it.'
She sighed, too exhausted to converse.
'Livia's asleep down the hall but she'll turn up again any minute. It's amazing how fast everyone's sent flowers. Even David Ruddoch and his crew have been thinking of you - they sent that…'
AJ pointed to a tall spray of cream blooms. No doubt, its fragrance matched its elegance but Georgie wouldn't smell much for a while with her mangled nose. Fancy David Ruddoch having a soft spot for her after all.
As he paced, Georgie thought, There's definitely something you're not saying.
'AJ?' His name was a rusty whisper through split lips and swollen jaw.
He drew nearer and reached for her closest hand. Mid-movement, he changed direction and took the right one. As he kissed her fingertips, her gravel-rashed skin stung. She flinched, then wondered about the bandaged mass to her left.
What's with my hand?
AJ spoke quickly, 'I've a bone to pick with you… What an elaborate way to avoid lunch with my parents!'
She figured he was joking.
After a pause, he said, 'And I remember you promising you'd do nothing, what was it? "Heroic or stupid."'
Pissed off, Georgie tried to sit up. The effort too great, she fell back.
'Fuck off.'
'George, you promised to be careful. To check out a few things and then leave it to the police.'
She glared at him.
He mirrored it.
'I tried.'
'Huh? You
tried, what?'
'To -'
'I'll tell what you tried to do,' he interrupted. 'You tried to get yourself killed, that's what!'
Georgie felt nauseous. Her stomach churned with fury and guilt. She slowly, painfully retorted, 'I tried to get away. Trust me.' The words came out muffled.
'I do, George. It's really a question of when are you going to trust yourself?'
The nose cast pinched with her confused frown. What are we talking about now?
'You went drinking after court. You drove to Daylesford, drunk, I'll bet. You sent me a weak SMS to say you were staying there. Because you were avoiding me, right? Because you didn't want to deal with the "Big M" - as you call it - true? I bring up marriage, kids and off you run. But if you trusted me and yourself a bit more, you'd realise there's nothing to be worried about.'
Georgie gazed at the people who bustled past her open doorway. She yearned to join them.
AJ laughed abruptly, mirthlessly. 'And where'd it get you, George? Here.' He motioned contemptuously and added, 'In that state.'
She hummed inside her head. A soccer-like chant: Here we go, here we go, here we go.
He exclaimed, 'What, am I talking to a brick here? Trust. T-R-U-S-T. It isn't a difficult word to master. We've been together long enough for me to know that I want you and you want me. For the long term. I want to marry you, even knowing that you and my brother slept together.'
Georgie shot shocked eyes towards his.
'Surely you didn't think that Matt could keep it from me? But to be fair, we'd separated. And it was just one night, right?'
'Yes,' she whispered.
'OK, so you've never cheated, although you are a hopeless flirt. But I'm convinced you love me and the other day, you said you were close to committing.'
He waited. She turned away.
'I think you keep inventing distractions to avoid commitment.' He sounded fatigued.
'I didn't invent this,' Georgie snapped. She rolled her eyes to imply injuries and hospitalisation.
'I know!' AJ threw up both hands. 'Look, this isn't the right time or place. You need to get better. We'll sort this out later.'
He sighed deeply. Silence expanded like foaming fill-a-gap.
She searched for what to say to make it better. Her head pounded with discordant emotions.
Eventually, he sat on the bed and fixed Georgie with a hound dog gaze.
There's something more, isn't there?
Georgie's lips were poised to ask, when Livia entered with a wave of energy. The moment was lost, so Georgie sank into the pillows and watched two of the most important people in her life chatter: her mum and her man.
Things would work out.
Wouldn't they?
CHAPTER 14
Thursday 25 March
'What are you looking at, Dad?'
'You, kid. You haven't turned out so bad.'
'Thanks heaps,' Kat whined, yet a smile lurked on her lips. 'What brought that up anyway?'
Franklin sipped from his mug. 'I don't know. It occurred to me that we've been pretty lucky. And as kids go, you're bearable.' He laughed at her indignant expression. 'All right, you're pretty cool. Is that better?'
She smirked and stacked the dishwasher.
'This place isn't so bad, is it?' Franklin commented.
Kat shrugged. 'It's home. It's OK.' After a sly peek she added, 'Wouldn't mind a pool though.'
'Wouldn't we all,' he replied dryly. 'I've been considering selling.'
'You can't.'
'Why not?'
'Because it's home. All our memories are here.'
'Memories are portable, Kat. They don't stay locked inside four walls.' At her horrified face he hastened to say, 'Don't worry. I was thinking about selling but changed my mind. But it is definitely time to re-do the kitchen.'
'What and get rid of this lovely pink?' She gestured facetiously.
'Yep. I'm thinking neutral walls -'
'Imagine my dad talking about neutrals.'
'…and cupboards, with stainless appliances,' he continued. 'How's that sound?'
'Are you serious? Can we afford it?'
Franklin chuckled and nodded. His kid surprised him no end. Sometimes shallow and selfish, sometimes sage and sensitive, she was a chocolate box without descriptions. And he loved the whole assortment.
'Don't you think we should finish the other projects first?'
She referred to the half-dozen or so renovation ventures he'd abandoned at ninety per cent done. Stuff being sensible; if they kept the cottage, it was imperative to eradicate the last traces of Donna.
'We should but we're not gunna. I'll pick up a bunch of paint charts.'
He watched her retrieve a lunch bag from the fridge.
'What's on today?'
'The usual boring shit.' Kat grimaced. 'And a careers talk this afternoon. At least we get out of science for it.' Now she grinned.
'Are you any clearer on what you want to do after you finish school?'
She shot him a cunning glance. 'Maybe I'll follow in your footsteps.'
Stunned, his automatic reaction was to say, 'You'll have to keep your nose clean from now on, then. No more shoplifting or trouble at school.' Then his forehead knit. 'Really, though? A cop?'
She wiggled her brows. 'Potentially. You like being a copper, don't you? Mostly.'
Franklin pictured the recent few weeks. A multi-fatality smash, close call with a Bible-basher-come-abductor-and-aggressor and missing person case turned triple homicide that had left a woman hospitalised and him in cahoots with the Hommies. It amounted to the most exciting and harrowing period in his career. He wanted better for his daughter.
'I don't think it's for you.'
'That's hypocritical,' she censured. 'And what about you? At the start of the year, our coordinator said to expect a minimum of three major career changes in our working life. You're still on Job One.'
'I'm happy enough.'
She curled her lip.
'Perhaps I'll stay with the force but do something different.' He thought he'd managed to sound casual, yet his eyes were riveted on Kat. How will she take it?
'For real?' She dived onto the seat opposite.
'I'm chewing over CI. It'd mean changes for us…'
'You've always said I can do whatever I set my mind to. My turn to say it back. If it means that much to you, Dad, do it.'
Kat's advice ricocheted on the way to the hospital.
'Brian, Helen,' Franklin greeted Inspector Mitchell and his offsider Kyriakos of the Homicide Squad.
They shook and strolled in sync towards the ward, while Kat's words continued to shimmer.
'You've got visitors, Georgie-Porgy.'
Surprised that she let the nurse get away with the moniker, Franklin viewed Georgie's grimace.
'You'll keep, Wayne-Pain.' She wiggled her fingers at the departing nurse, then surveyed her guests.
'Uh-oh, am I "assisting police with their inquiries" again? Or are the troops out there, ready to bundle me into the divvy van and escort me to the interview room, where you'll grill me until I confess all, then arrest me?'
Franklin observed the effort behind her jocularity. Georgie's skin had more colour and her eyes more sparkle but exhaustion and multi-hued abrasions marred her features.
Inspector Mitchell laughed as he placed a bunch of yellow roses on the crowded bed trolley. A vase atop the bedside cabinet held the mixed bouquet that Franklin had left anonymously.
While less glamorous than many of the other arrangements, they were pretty and cheerful.
The detectives sat on Georgie's bed. Franklin lingered at the foot.
'Before you start,' Georgie said. 'I want one of you to tell me, what's with this hand?'
She lifted her bundled appendage.
Kyriakos gave a surprised, 'Oh.' She glanced at Mitchell. They both fixed on Franklin.
'They haven't told you?' he said, appalled.
'Nope. They're either patronising or
dismissive. Saying the phantom doctor - who only seems to visit when I'm asleep - will explain. It's pissing me off.'
'I don't blame you. Well, here it is.' He drew a breath and a line across his palm. 'Your hand was sliced to the bone from the heel of the palm to the base of your index finger. There's nerve damage…and no guarantees how it'll heal.'
'How bad does it look?'
He shrugged. 'I haven't seen it but believe it's nasty. Cosmetic surgery might reduce the scarring.'
'Georgie,' Mitchell interrupted. 'Sorry to push this along but time's of the essence. We'll have questions for you later. Lots of them. Meanwhile, I guess you'd like us to fill in some blanks?'
'Hell, yes.'
'You realise you've got this guy to thank for being alive?'
He indicated Franklin, who felt himself blush. Georgie lowered her chin and mumbled.
'Right then. Your attack. Two coppers eye-witnessing it and plenty of DNA via skin scrapings from your nails-'
'Remind me not to pick a fight with you,' Kyriakos said.
The detective inspector continued, 'So, in relation to what happened to you, we'll get all three offenders on aggravated assault, if not attempted murder.
'You're aware Hart and Franklin nabbed two at the scene but Ariane Marques got away?' At her nod, he added, 'She's now in custody.'
'Good!'
'The bad news is that we've a "your word against mine" scenario between the three where it comes to everything else. They're all blaming each other. Marques even blabbed on her lover. She wanted immunity but I wouldn't cut her a sandwich, let alone a deal. When she found out Schlicht is still chummy with his wife, she spilt the whole lot anyway. But we need a lot more than the conflicting say-so of this lot.'
'I don't get it.'
'Georgie, most of what we have so far is circumstantial or hearsay. The DPP needs enough physical evidence for a jury to convict or he won't indict. Ever heard of double-jeopardy?'
'Sure.'
'Well then, you know the prosecution gets one shot in court. There are only two possible outcomes and the jury's verdict has to be "not guilty" if they have sufficient doubt. In the Scottish legal system, at least they can return "not proven". Regardless, both have the same effect - no conviction and no opportunity for a retrial. So the DPP chooses the winnable battles and concentrates on building the strongest of cases.'
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