Die Figuren aus der TV-Serie "Die Profis" gehören deren derzeitigen Rechte-Inhabern. Da diese Story nur zu meinem eigenen Vergnügen - und dem des geneigten Lesers - geschrieben wurde, habe ich mir erlaubt, die Jungs auszuleihen, und gehe davon aus, dass dies keine Verletzung nationalen oder internationalen Copyright-Rechts darstellt.
This story is based on an idea from Renate and was plotted together with Renate and Susi. – Many thanks to Sue for the great job she did in correcting my English and bringing it in a suitable form.
Winter Depression
The shrill ringing of his alarm clock woke Ray Doyle out of a restless sleep. Without switching the light on, he fumbled for the alarm clock and turned it off. It was 6.30 in the morning and outside it was still pitch-black. With a sigh Doyle turned over onto his belly, pulled the pillow over his head and tried to go back to sleep.
It took a while before a distant ringing reached his subconscious. Again he fumbled for his alarm clock only to discover it wasn’t the cause of the noise. Suddenly he realised that somebody was ringing his doorbell. He looked at the display of his alarm clock. "Oh God, 7 o’clock already. Bodie…!"
A little dazed he got up, put on his robe and pressed the buzzer. Bodie hurried upstairs and looked at Doyle in disbelief.
"Hey, what’s wrong with you? You’re not dressed yet. Don’t you feel well?" he asked with concern in his voice. The memories of Doyle, lying in bed with a high fever and cold after an involuntary bath in the Thames some weeks ago, came back to him.
"No I’m all right. I only forgot to set the alarm and because it’s still dark outside I completely overslept." Doyle didn’t feel bad about the white lie. How could he explain to Bodie, that he simply turned off the alarm and went back to sleep? "Would you make some coffee while I take a shower and get dressed? But an extra strong one for me, please."
"Sure." Bodie went into the kitchen while Doyle disappeared into the bathroom. To his great delight he found a Swiss roll in the cupboard and after setting the kettle he tucked in.
Scarcely before the water had boiled, Doyle was ready.
"That was in record time. Here, your coffee. Careful, it’s hot."
Doyle drank his coffee slowly. Bodie was surprised to see Doyle putting sugar into his coffee and even more amazed that he didn’t bother to comment on him eating half of the Swiss roll. Normally Doyle teased him about his liking for it, but today, nothing was said.
****
Outside it was raining lightly. Drizzling; typical for November. Doyle pulled his jacket collar up and muttered to himself: "What damn weather, and it isn’t even getting light yet."
"What are you saying, sunshine?"
"Ah, sunshine, that’s funny! Do you see any sunshine here? All I see are bloody heavy, dark clouds hanging in the sky. Damn it!" Doyle spat out.
Bodie was surprised. He hadn’t expected quite this reaction. He couldn’t imagine what he could have said to provoke such an angry outburst from his partner. But before he could think about it, he saw the R/T flashing in the Capri. Quickly he unlocked the car and answered the call, "3.7 here."
"6.2. Alpha One expects you and Doyle in Soho." Murphy gave him the exact address.
"Okay, got it. We’re on our way. 3.7 over and out."
They drove in silence to the given address. Bodie was wondering why Doyle hadn’t asked where they were heading, but after his earlier outburst nothing would surprise him. And when Doyle was in one of his moods then even he was helpless to do anything. In Bodie’s experience it was better not to try to force Doyle but to leave him in peace until he came round.
The local police had cordoned off the immediate area. They parked the car about 100 yards away. Doyle looked morose as he left the car and walked through the drizzle. The police let them pass after they showed their ID’s.
Cowley was already waiting for them in the small shop. It was a gunsmith, specialising in handguns and knives.
"At last. Bodie, Doyle, Mr. Atkins’ shop was robbed tonight. They’ve stolen some very special weapons. Mr. Atkins is doing a list right now."
"Which weapons, sir?" Bodie asked.
"It looks like they have stolen several large-calibre pistols, among them some Remington 45’s."
Bodie whistled through his teeth. "It must be a real fanatic …"
"… or a specialist. Also they have stolen some Bowie-knives and a lot of ammunition."
"Shotguns?"
"Yes, but at the moment it looks like only small bore."
"And what has this to do with CI5?" Doyle, who had been standing disinterestedly since they entered the shop, asked in a very aggressive way.
Cowley looked at him very seriously but decided not to rebuke him and declared in a neutral tone: "This is now the fifth break-in into an gun shop within a short time. The culprit or culprits always follow the same method and always take the same kind of weapons. It looks like they are stealing to order."
"Or it’s a bunch of kids who are trying to get equipped for a gang war. The shop's doesn’t look very secure to me. The burglars had an easy run," remarked Bodie.
"Yes, gentlemen, this is what I want you two to find out. I want quick results. I want you in my office in two hours. You will get the files on the other four break-ins. Meanwhile you’ll ask around the neighbourhood; see if anyone noticed anything."
"Looking for curtain twitchers", murmured Doyle in disgust.
"Yes Doyle, looking for curtain twitchers! Do you have a problem with that?" asked Cowley in a hard voice.
Doyle shook his head and Bodie pulled him out of the shop. He resisted asking what was really wrong with him when he saw the hard expression in Doyle’s eyes.
As expected the questioning of the neighbourhood brought nothing new. Nobody had or wanted to have seen anything.
"It’s always the same. If they’re the ones on the receiving end they cry for help. But if somebody else is affected they look the other way" remarked Bodie as they got in the Capri and drove back to HQ.
He wasn’t surprised when Doyle didn’t reply.
****
After arriving at HQ and leaving their wet jackets in their office, they went immediately to Cowley’s office. There the files of the four previous break-ins lay ready for them.
"Study the files closely, gentlemen, and look for things in common. The Minister is expecting results as soon as possible."
Both only nodded, Doyle took the files and they went back to their office.
"Is he trying to teach us our job?" complained Doyle. " Look for things in common – does the old man really think we don’t know that?"
Bodie tried to ignore Doyle’s anger and asked tersely: " Do you want some tea?"
"Yeah," came the monosyllabic answer from Doyle.
Bodie left the office and took a deep breath ‘Doyle can really be a pain in the ass when he's in one of his moods. Hope he snaps out of it soon.’
The cup of tea seemed to have no positive effect on Doyle’s mood. Before Bodie could get infected with Doyle’s bad mood, he took the telephone and tried to reach Marty. After some ringing around he got hold of the right number and was lucky enough to find him there.
"Hey Marty, it’s Bodie. Do you have a minute for me?"
"Of course, old chap, at the usual place in an hour, okay?"
"Fine, see you, Marty,"
Without bothering to ask Doyle if he wanted to come with him, Bodie grabbed his jacket and left the office saying only "See you later". Doyle showed no reaction.
****
The conversation between Marty and Bodie brought nothing new. Marty was surprised that Bodie hadn't brought his partner along. He promised Bodie he would check around and let him know as soon as he had some information. "Bodie, normally I play in a higher league. If heavy guns are involved I would know where to start, but handguns, shotguns and knives, to be honest I have no idea at the moment."
"We'll stay in touch, Marty, and thanks."
"For what, Bodie? See you soon."
They said goodbye and Bodie ran through the drizzle to his car. Thoughtfully he sank down in the driver’s seat. "Handguns, shotguns and knives, that really is a strange mixture," he muttered to himself. On his way back to HQ he stopped at a snack bar, bought a hamburger. Now he was glad that Doyle wasn’t with him, otherwise he would have got a lecture about cholesterol. Maybe not today though, Doyle didn’t even comment on him eating the Swiss roll earlier. Bodie shook his head. Today there doesn’t seem to be any sense in the behaviour of his partner.
****
The afternoon was spent together in their office. They were busy studying the files and making telephone calls to the people who were involved in the first four break-ins; the owners of the shops and the police officers. About 6 p.m. Bodie decided he’d had enough for the day and offered Doyle a lift home. "Or do you want to stop at a pub?"
"No, thanks, I’m tired. I want to go home, okay?"
"Okay."
Outside it was already dark but the drizzle had stopped. Bodie tried to start a conversation with Doyle, but realised almost at once that it was hopeless today. "See you in the morning, I’ll be here at 7 am. Have a nice evening."
"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Doyle hurried into his building.
****
Over the next few days they continued to talk to those involved in the break-ins. Doyle's mood hadn’t improved. He was still very quiet but his comments were not so aggressive anymore. He seemed to be more relaxed but also very solitary.
Marty had been unable to give Bodie any information to help them, but he promised to keep on digging.
Both Bodie and Doyle had contacted their informers, but it looked like none of the stolen weapons were on the market. A Remington 45 was a very special and impressive gun, but there was no word that any were being offered for sale. There was also no word about the Bowie knives.
"Either pros have stolen the weapons to order or it was done by some kids who want to get ready for a new gang war. " Bodie ruminated.
"Yeah, but either way it’s a load of lethal weapons, they’ve stolen. I can think of better things to do than to look down the barrel of a Remington 45 or a sawn-off shotgun. And with the amount of ammunition they’ve taken they can start a nice war, no matter who they are." Doyle shuddered at the thought of the Remingtons in the hands of teenagers.
****
The following evening Bodie persuaded Doyle to come to the pub with him. But it wasn’t a cosy evening. It seemed as though Doyle only wanted to get drunk as quickly as possible. Bodie tried to slow him down, but Doyle snapped at him: "Are you my mother, or what?"
Bodie restricted himself to two beers while Doyle drank one double whisky after another. To prevent the worst, Bodie tried to suggest they leave early. But Doyle wasn’t willing to go quietly. He tried to provoke Bodie and to start a quarrel. Bodie forced himself to stay calm but inside he was angry.
"That's enough now, sunshine, I’ll take you home!"
The word "sunshine" startled Doyle. He went quiet. He stood up, swaying gently and didn't object as Bodie gripped his arm in support and led him to the car.
"Should I help you upstairs?" Bodie asked with care in his voice.
"No, thanks, I can manage. See you tomorrow."
Bodie watched Doyle with unease. He couldn't understand what was wrong with his partner. Bad moods, oh yes, that's not unusual, but he had never seen him depressed like this or for so long and couldn’t help but think that it was very strange.
****
When Bodie picked Doyle up the next morning, he looked pitiful with dark rings under his eyes. But he was very stoical all day and did his work conscientiously.
"Hey, what are you doing this weekend, Doyle, if the old man doesn’t find some work for us?" Bodie hadn’t noticed Cowley standing in the doorway.
"The old man has some work for you this weekend." said Cowley sharply.
Bodie stammered "sorry, sir" while Doyle only looked at the floor.
"What have you found out about these weapon thefts?
Bodie looked at Doyle, but he only shook his head slightly and therefore Bodie reported on their lack of results so far. When he'd finished, he added: " Whoever has stolen these weapons; they're either no longer on our island or still well hidden."
"Well, I think they are still under lock and key somewhere. Interpol have informed us that they have no reports of any stolen weapons, and above all no Remington 45's." Cowley added, " carry on, gentlemen. And Doyle you should catch up with some sleep."
"Yes, sir." replied Doyle obediently.
****
Investigations during the weekend brought them no further. But on Monday morning Marty called.
"Bodie, can we meet immediately? I have a sure bet."
"The usual place?"
"Yeah, but hurry and bring your partner along."
"Okay, Marty, see you. – Come on Doyle, looks like Marty has a lead for us."
They both snatched up their jackets and ran all the way to Bodie’s Capri. Bodie made a racing start, which would have impressed most of his girlfriends. Without considering the speed limits they reached the meeting point in record time.
Marty nodded toward Doyle and turned immediately to Bodie handing him a slip of paper. "Here's an address for you. The deal will be taking place about now."
"Who is behind all this, Marty?" asked Bodie impatiently.
"Sorry, Bodie, this is all the help I can give you. – Be careful!" Marty hurried away.
****
Bodie gave the slip to Doyle. "Damn, that’s a nasty area. The warehouses there are all old and disused and the area is too closed in."
"Right, I'll call for backup. – 3.7 to HQ. We need backup, right now." Bodie gave the address.
"I'm sorry, 3.7, it will take some time. We just got an A 1 alert."
"Shit! – Then as quick as possible, okay? We’ll go and check the area. 3.7 over and out."
"What do you reckon, Bodie?"
"It’s risky, if we go in alone. On the other hand if the deal is on right now, it could be too late if we wait until backup arrives. Shall we risk it?"
Doyle nodded, pulled his gun and checked it. Bodie also pulled his gun out of the holster, checked it and put it back. "Okay, let’s go."
Bodie parked the car some distance away from their destination. Very cautiously they approached the warehouse and saw two vans parked in front of it. Through a broken window Doyle sneaked a look into the building.
"What can you see?" whispered Bodie.
"Three guys standing in front of some boxes. I don’t recognise any of them. – Should we go in?"
"I go in and you cover my back, okay? – Ray, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah."
Bodie jumped through the doorway and shouted: "Hands up, you’re surrounded." Doyle was right behind him. The three men were taken by surprise and obediently raised their hands. "Get away from the boxes!" ordered Bodie.
Bodie didn't miss the devilish grin on the face of the oldest of the three men. But before he could make sense of it, two shots rang out. Bodie felt a burning pain in his upper left arm as he took cover behind one of the columns.
The three men took the opportunity to escape through the back door. Bodie noticed their departure out of the corner of his eye but couldn’t stop them, because it looked like the sniper was on one of the catwalks and still shooting at Bodie. ‘Damn, Doyle, why don’t you do something? In your position you must have a clear shot.’ muttered Bodie in surprise.
It felt like an eternity to Bodie before he heard Doyle’s Walther P38 bellow. Then he heard a dull thud and saw the sniper lying on the ground.
Carefully Bodie left his cover and approached the sniper with Doyle. But there was nothing to worry about. Even if the bullets from Doyle hadn’t been deadly there was no chance he could have survived the fall.
Bodie gave a short report to HQ and commented sarcastically that now they could take their time sending backup. Immediately afterwards he felt sorry that he had been so hard and unfriendly to Maggie. She only did her job at the radio and it was not her fault there was no backup available.
Finally he turned toward Doyle. Anger glowed in his eyes. "Damn, Doyle, what was this? You were supposed to watch my back!"
Doyle looked at him crestfallen. "Bodie, your arm. You’re bleeding."
"That isn’t important right now. Damn, Doyle, I want an answer."
"I’m sorry, Bodie, I …"
Bodie couldn’t control his temper. He shouted at Doyle. "What do you mean, "I’m sorry"? Damn, that doesn’t help me. What the hell were you thinking?"
Doyle looked at Bodie with great eyes. It almost seemed to Bodie he could see tears glittering in Doyle's eyes. Doyle turned round and ran out of the building. Shortly after, Bodie heard him throwing up outside. But he was too busy to worry about Doyle. His arm burnt like hell. Very carefully he took off his jacket. With relief he saw that it was only a graze but the wound was bleeding heavily. He took his hanky and pressed it against the wound. He cursed Doyle but also he would have been grateful for his help. With a sigh he sat down on one of the boxes and waited patiently for his partner to come back or the arrival of the backup.
Bodie wasn’t exactly sure which one he would prefer at that moment; Doyle or his other colleagues. But as Cowley suddenly stood in front of him and demanded in a sharp tone that he give his report, Bodie was sure that he would prefer his partner. In a monotonous voice he gave his report but omitted the fact that Doyle almost messed up.
Cowley looked at Bodie grimly and demanded to know where Doyle was. "Somewhere outside, sir." replied Bodie without further explanation.
Murphy watched Bodie with concern when Cowley left the building to find Doyle. Bodie looked very pale. Murphy helped him up and escorted him to the exit as McCabe and Lucas entered the warehouse to report that there was no one else around.
Doyle was outside, standing with his head bowed enduring Cowley’s torrent of words. All he noticed was that Cowley ordered Doyle to take him, Bodie, to the doctor immediately.
Bodie tried to say that Murphy could do that but Cowley was quicker and ordered Murphy to check the boxes.
"That was not my last word, gentlemen!" The threat lingered around Bodie and Doyle.
****
Bodie felt washed out; he ignored his partner, as Doyle accompanied him to Dr Baker at HQ.
Dr Baker treated Bodie’s wound and gave him some painkillers, even though he was sure Bodie wouldn’t take them. He advised him to treat his arm with care for the next few days, not to move it too much and change the bandages regularly. "But you already know all this stuff, you have enough experience, Bodie, it’s almost unnecessary to tell you all this again. – I’ll see you again tomorrow afternoon but if there are any problems see me sooner." With these words Dr Baker released Bodie.
Bodie wished he could go home. But Cowley wanted to speak to him and his partner. ‘Ah, Doyle, I’ve got a score to settle with you.’ Bodie was still furious about Doyle’s behaviour.
****
Before Cowley gave them a lecture he asked after Bodie's condition. Bodie replied that it was only a scratch, which brought him Cowley’s cynical remark "good". What followed after that would echo in their ears for quite a while. Cowley was enraged about the behaviour of what he had thought was his best team. "You have thoroughly messed up this job and ruined the case. Why were you so naïve as to think you could handle the three men by yourselves? Were you thinking you were dealing with bloody amateurs? And Doyle, why did you shoot this man? He was our only link to the men behind all this. The only good point is that we at least secured the weapons."
In low voice Bodie asked if they had been able to identify the man yet.
"No. Bodie. – That’s all; I don’t want to see you again today. Tomorrow afternoon I want your reports on my desk. Together with a good explanation for your failure."
Bodie could see from the look on Doyle’s face that he was about to explain. Despite blaming Doyle for their failure Bodie didn’t want to give him any opportunity to admit it to Cowley. He wanted to speak to Doyle first; therefore he gave him a slight punch and dragged him out of Cowley’s office.
"Shall I drive you home?"
"No, I’ll take a taxi, you can have my Capri." replied Bodie curtly.
Doyle started to protest but the icy look in Bodie’s eyes warned him to be silent.
Wordlessly they left HQ and went their separate ways.
****
At home Bodie reviewed the afternoon’s events in his mind. And not only that afternoon but also the last few days. Doyle’s behaviour during the last few days was very strange. First his outbursts and then his silence. And also getting blind drunk during their last pub visit. ‘Ah, now I am getting the same guilty feelings Doyle always does.’ thought Bodie. He lay down on his couch and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his upper arm and to think of something else. But he couldn’t get the expression on Doyle's face, when he yelled at him at the warehouse, out of his mind.
Finally Bodie reached for the phone and dialled Doyle's number. It rang seven times before Doyle answered the call. Suddenly Bodie wasn’t sure why he had called Doyle. What should he say? Therefore he only gave his name after Doyle answered the phone and waited for his reaction.
"Bodie, I …!" Bodie thought he heard a sob, but before he could say something, Doyle hung up.
"Damn, the idiot," mumbled Bodie to himself. "What now?"
With difficulty he stood, ordered a taxi and let himself be driven to Doyle's flat. During the whole drive Bodie cursed himself, but somehow concern for Doyle made him go on. He couldn’t forget the look on Doyle’s face at the warehouse either.
****
He leant on the doorbell but it took a while before Doyle finally answered the intercom. "It’s me, open the door" and Bodie heard the door buzzer.
The door to Doyle’s flat was open and Bodie entered without hesitation. "Doyle?" Slowly he went into the living room and saw Doyle lying on the couch his face buried in some cushions.
Bodie took a seat on the armchair opposite. He heard Doyle sobbing. Bodie’s anger disappeared and his concern for Doyle grew.
Gently Bodie asked. "Doyle – Ray – what’s wrong?" Bodie had to repeat his question twice before Doyle looked at him with a tear stained face, shaking his head, obviously not able to answer.
Bodie got up and filled two glasses with whisky. Without a word he handed one glass to Doyle who tossed the full measure back in a single swallow.
"Easy, boy, there’s plenty more." Bodie tried to sound encouraging.
It took some time before Doyle calmed down. "Bodie, I am so sorry. I …, today this could have been …, and Bodie, it would have been all my fault. I …"
"It's okay, Ray, calm down. It’s also my fault, I should have seen that you’re not feeling well."
"Bodie, I don't know what’s wrong with me, I … I can't stand it any longer. I …"
"Come on, let's talk tomorrow. Here take another drink and then bed. I'll sleep here on your couch and if you need something, then …"
"No, Bodie, your arm. I’ll take the couch."
Bodie tried to smile. "It's only a scratch, Doyle. Give me a blanket; you know I can sleep anywhere, anytime. Why not on your old couch." Bodie successfully reassured Doyle that he would be all right on the couch. Without further protest Doyle went to his bedroom, fetched a blanket for Bodie and whispered: "Bodie, I am so damn sorry."
Bodie only nodded sure that he wouldn’t be able to sleep on the uncomfortable couch. But he was wrong. The day took its toll and after a while he slipped into an uneasy sleep. In between bouts of sleep he thought he heard noises from the bedroom but he was too exhausted to go and check.
When he woke in the morning he still felt exhausted. The wound on his upper arm hurt. Quietly he crept to the bathroom and took a cold shower while trying to prevent the bandage on his upper arm becoming soaked with water. Afterwards he felt a lot better and went to the kitchen to make coffee. Out of habit he rummaged through Doyle's refrigerator and cupboards but even the sight of a Swiss roll did nothing for his appetite. Nevertheless he made himself a cheese sandwich and chewed listlessly on it.
Finally Doyle entered the kitchen. He looked pale; his eyes were red and had dark circles under them.
Bodie poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him. With a thankful nod Doyle took the cup and it seemed to Bodie as if Doyle held on to it like an anchor.
"Bodie" he started hesitantly. Bodie tried to encourage him with a smile. "I … I really have no explanation for what happened yesterday. But thanks for backing me up against Cowley."
"What are partners for?"
"Yeah, a partner is there to protect your back. I failed yesterday. If …"
Bodie noticed that Doyle started to tremble. "Easy, Doyle, nothing happened. And there are no ‘ifs’, okay? – Okay?"
"Okay, but …"
"Not buts, Ray. Everyone can have a bad day." Bodie knew his words were meaningless but he was also aware Doyle knew that it wasn’t good enough to excuse his failure. "If you want to talk, Ray, you know, I am a good listener."
"Thanks, Bodie, but I don't know where to start. Somehow the cold I got after my unscheduled bath in the Thames is still hanging around. I feel exhausted."
"But Dr Baker cleared you."
"Yes, but it isn’t like I feel physically exhausted it’s more mentally. In the morning I don’t feel like getting up. And then I look out of the window, see that it’s still dark outside and then every day is bleak and dismal, then I want to hide in the corner and start crying."
"Hey, you should visit Dr. Ross, she would be delighted." Bodie tried to lighten Doyle's mood.
"Yeah, she probably would but I wouldn’t. No, I’ll sort myself out. Just give me a few days. Please."
"Okay, Ray, but only a few days. If you don’t feel better then you will see Dr Ross, agreed?"
"Yeah okay."
"Can we stop at my place on our way to HQ? I want to change my clothes."
"Sure, Bodie. How can I explain my behaviour to Cowley?"
"You don’t have to. There is nothing the Cow has to know. It’s just between you and me, okay?"
"Okay. Remind me – I owe you one." Doyle was relieved.
"Yeah, you owe me one and a new leather jacket."
"Oh, yes, of course."
****
When they entered Cowley’s office that afternoon he was reading their reports. It seemed like an eternity to Bodie and Doyle before he addressed them.
"Now tell me exactly what happened yesterday!" demanded Cowley.
"That's all in our report, sir."
"I can read, Bodie, but I want to know what happened exactly! – You’re hiding something, gentlemen, and I want to know what it is. Your report doesn’t explain why the fourth man was able to take you by surprise."
"That's the way with surprises, sir, you never know beforehand." remarked Bodie pertly.
"Don't be impertinent, Bodie." Cowley didn’t miss Doyle’s nervousness but he also noticed that Bodie backed him up. He knew the two were as thick as thieves and that he was unlikely to know precisely what happened at the warehouse. Finally he gave in. "Fine, I accept that for the moment. – The dead man has been identified already and Scotland Yard has picked up a trail. It definitely looks like some adolescents are behind all this. We could secure all the weapons. The minister is very satisfied with your work. That I am not, goes without saying."
Bodie met the hard look from Cowley while Doyle looked at the floor in an embarrassed fashion.
"Doyle, is there anything else you want to tell me?" Doyle shook his head. "And you, Bodie?" Bodie also shook his head. "Well then, I’ll see you again the day after tomorrow. That’s all for today. And Bodie, don’t miss your appointment with Dr Baker."
"No, sir."
With relief they left Cowley’s office.
"I’m going straight home. You can manage by yourself, Bodie?"
"Sure, and you? - Fine, see you."
****
Outside it was already getting dark. Thick rain clouds were hanging in the sky and increased his feeling of depression. With a shudder Doyle realised that it would be pitch-dark by the time he arrived home. On the way home he listened to the weather forecast on the radio. It didn’t contribute anything to help lighten his mood; the forecast was fog, rain and no prospect of any autumnal sunshine. Doyle tried to concentrate on the traffic to divert his thoughts.
When he reached home it was already dark as he expected. The first thing he did upon entering his flat was to switch on all the lights as if trying to imitate sunshine. With a sigh he sat down on his couch, hid his face in his hands and his thoughts returned to the long cold, dark nights, the murky and bleak days and with horror he realised that it wouldn’t be until 21st December that the days would start to get longer again. He had no explanation as to why he was in such despair. Previously he had no problem with autumn and winter. Why suddenly now?
To calm himself down he drank some cans of beer and then some whisky. Made muzzy by the effect of the alcohol he finally fell asleep on the couch. When he woke in the morning it was very bright in his flat. Irritated he checked his watch. It was 7.00 in the morning and usually dark. Very slowly he registered that the brightness was coming from all the lamps he switched on the previous evening.
‘What's wrong with you? You promised Bodie you’d get hold of yourself and now you lay here feeling buried alive," he scolded himself. With an effort he tried to divert himself and somehow he managed to get through the day. In the evening he decided to visit his favourite pub. He wondered whether to call Bodie asking him to come too. But he wasn’t sure if he, in his current mood, would be pleasant company. Secretly he hoped that Bodie would be there too. His hope was not fulfilled. The pub was relatively crowded for a weekday but Bodie wasn’t there. Instead Denise was there. Denise, who seemed to be very keen on Doyle for a while, but hadn’t dared approach him when he was in Bodie's company. Now she took her chance and joined Doyle at the bar.
"Hello Ray, all alone today?" she breathed in his ear.
"Yes."
"Where is your friend?"
Doyle shrugged his shoulders. "May I buy you a drink?"
"Sure. A Cuba Libra would be fine."
Doyle ordered and paid – he had chosen a large whisky - and they went over to an empty table in a corner. Immediately Denise started to flirt with Doyle and he didn’t seem to mind. But when she asked him directly to come to her place Doyle backed off, excused himself and left the pub hastily. Disappointed, Denise watched him go.
Without a destination in mind Doyle ran through the rainy night. Finally he flagged down a taxi to take him home. Again and again he saw Denise in his thoughts and he can't understand his panicky reaction to her offer. Normally she would be his type and he had noticed her on former visits to the pub. Doyle cursed the world in general and himself in particular and hoped that the night would pass quickly.
****
In the morning he didn’t feel any better. But he put it down to the after effects of too much alcohol. Finally he remembered that his car was still parked near the pub and hurried to get ready and call a taxi to take him to his car. Just in time he reached HQ.
Bodie was already sitting behind his desk. Doyle forced a smile as he entered the office.
"Good morning, Bodie, how is your arm?"
"It's nearly okay. – Hey, you look knackered. Had a long night have you?"
"Yeah, I was at the pub yesterday evening and then, aaah, you know …" Doyle blushed lightly.
Bodie smiled knowingly. "Hey, there’s a briefing in half an hour. Looks like something serious, but I have no idea what’s up."
Doyle shrugged. "Want some more coffee?"
"Yes, please." Doyle left the room armed with two cups to fetch more coffee.
****
Nearly all CI5 agents except those on an important assignment or on the sick list were gathered in the conference room. Shortly afterwards Cowley entered the room with an elegantly dressed man.
"Ladies and gentlemen, good morning. In case you don’t know the gentleman by my side, this is Robert Weaver, Deputy Commissioner of Scotland Yard." Cowley looked around and continued: "I am sure you have heard of the so-called Christmas-murderer. For the last nine years he has committed a murder between the 6th and the 24th of December. At first it seemed there was no connection between the cases but now they are certain that the same person did all nine murders. As you may know the first victim was a homeless person, a year later a housewife and last year he chose a respectable manager. It’s feared that this year he will, how should I put it, aim higher for his victim. I want you to keep your eyes open and check with your informers. The smallest hint as to who could be behind these murders and especially who could be his next victim may be important. I want to know everything even if you think it’s insignificant. – That's all, now go back to work." Bodie and Doyle made to leave the room along with their colleagues but Cowley asked them to stay.
"Just now, I didn’t mention everything we know. Mr. Weaver is asking for our help because he fears that the next victim is possibly the Commissioner of Scotland Yard. Please, Mr. Weaver, go ahead."
"Mr. Bodie, Mr. Doyle, I am pleased to meet you." Weaver handed them a newspaper. "Here, this notice was in yesterday's Times."
|
this year is a special year, because it’s my 10th anniversary. I have chosen something special for someone, who has been searching for me a long time. Ho, ho,
ho! Krampus |
Bodie read the lines aloud then looked puzzled at Cowley and Weaver. "Who is Krampus?"
"As far as I know …" Doyle began and Cowley encouraged him to go on, "…Krampus is another name for ‘Knecht Ruprecht’, a helper of Santa Claus. He goes with Santa Claus from house to house on the 6th December. It's an old German custom. The Krampus puts the naughty boys and girls in his sack while Santa Claus rewards the nice kids with sweets."
"Right, Doyle." Cowley agreed.
"And this notice was in the Times yesterday, on the 6th December?"
"Yes," confirmed Weaver. "And as I told you before, we fear that this year he could be after the Commissioner, Mister Parker. Mister Parker has just celebrated his 10th anniversary as head of Scotland Yard and was involved in the case since this lunatic made his first kill."
"What did Parker do before he became Commissioner?" Bodie asked.
"He was head of Serious Crime before he was selected for this job."
"Could it be one of the others who wanted to become head of Scotland Yard and failed and are now out for revenge?"
"That's what you have to find out. Here you are, copies of all our files about the previous murders and also Mr Parker’s personal file. I have to ask you to keep this very confidential and not discuss anything with your colleagues. I’m counting on you. – Good luck." and with these words Mr Weaver left the room with Cowley.
"Hey, how come you know so much about this Krampus?"
"I had a girl friend from Bavaria and we were together one Christmas. We explained our local customs to each other."
"Only that?" joked Bodie.
"Bodie!" Doyle's eyes sparkled while Bodie made an innocent face.
****
It was hard for Doyle to concentrate on work. He found himself having to read every line several times before he could identify the important parts. Nothing could cheer him up and the pictures of the victims did nothing to help his spirit either. The Christmas murderer, so called by the press after his third murder, was very cruel. He obviously liked to ‘play' with his victims before cutting their throats. The faces of the people mirrored the horror that they suffered before dying.
Even Bodie, with all that he had seen, was affected by the pictures. Anger rose in him. "The bastard, but we will get him, Doyle."
"You sound very sure."
"Yes. This guy seems to feel secure but he will make a mistake and then it's our turn." Doyle doubted that Bodie believed his own words.
Doyle was actually happy to spend most of their time outside their office, even though he was terrified each time they went out in the bleak, grey December days. They spent a lot of time inspecting the various murder scenes, speaking with neighbours and police officers that had been involved in each case. They didn’t talk to friends and relatives because they didn’t want to reopen old wounds so close to Christmas. But their interviews surrendered nothing new.
The personal file and the confidential documents on the competitors for the job as Commissioner of Scotland Yard gave no hint of a motive or a suspect. The theory that one of the other competitors was behind the murders was soon rejected by Bodie and Doyle.
Now the difficult part of the investigation started. That someone, who was once arrested by Parker, was behind this, looked relatively unlikely. Parker was first with the traffic police and then in an administrative sector preparing his rise to the top. After they had eliminated the possibility that the murderer could be found in Parker’s personal life they concentrated on his former and present colleagues. Provided their theory was correct, Parker was to be the next victim and that the former murders were connected to all this. Yes, if …
Through Weaver they were given the personal files but it still looked like a search for the proverbial needle in the haystack.
"Times running out, Bodie."
****
In the afternoon they had an appointment with Dr Ross. This time not as patients, but to get some information on the profile of the murderer.
"I think the murderer, no matter if it’s a man or a woman, enjoys killing. It looks like killing is a release valve for him to get rid of his everyday frustrations: the violence behind his acts, the games he plays with his victims before releasing them with a single cut to their throats. It seems to me, that he or she falls into a deep depression conditional on the beginning of the ‘dark season’ and commits murder directly before the shortest day of the year to draw power till spring comes."
Bodie looked in disbelieve at Dr Ross and couldn’t hide a smile. "You can't be serious. – Looks like you’ve been reading too many women’s magazines. All those articles about happiness being dependent on the brightness of the days. – Come on, Doyle, we’re wasting our time."
Dr Ross’ words echo in Doyle’s thoughts for a long time after their meeting: ‘dark season and depressions – is this what is affecting me?’
Bodie's words "I’ll pick you up this evening and bring Angie and Shirley along" jolted him out of his thoughts. Oh damn, he nearly forgot the double date Bodie had arranged. He wasn’t looking forward to meeting them but he also didn't want to give Bodie any hint that he was still not his usual self. After the meeting with Dr Ross this afternoon he had no great desire to land on her couch for some sessions.
****
After a nice dinner at a pizzeria they went to the pub. Doyle was relieved that Denise wasn’t there. She might have made a scene and that was the last thing he wanted now. They chose a table in one of the corners and took it in turns to pay for the rounds. Shirley started to flirt with Bodie while Angie moved closer to Doyle and gave him clear signals. Suddenly Doyle thought of Denise and then felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Without a word he stood up and hurried out of the pub. Angie looked disbelievingly and called after him. Bodie looked up.
"I’ll be right back" Bodie snatched up his jacket and hurried after Doyle. Shirley and Angie exchanged astonished looks
"Doyle, stop." called Bodie outside on the street. "Damn, Ray, what’s come over you?"
"Leave me alone," Doyle hissed and Bodie took an instinctive step back. In self-defence he lifted his arm as if expecting a blow from Doyle any second. But Doyle simply turned round and walked away. Bodie watched Doyle go in disbelief and then returned to the pub.
Angie looked at Bodie questioningly. "I am sorry, Angie, but Doyle doesn't feel too well. He just needs some fresh air."
"Is he coming back?"
"I don’t think so." - ‘Damn, Ray, you’ve ruined the evening.’ – "I am sorry, girls. I'll take you home."
The girls agreed, the sudden departure of Doyle having ruined their moods too. "Have I done anything wrong, Bodie?" asked Angie feeling insecure.
"No, I have done something wrong." replied Bodie in a calm voice but inside he was seething. Doyle will pay for it, this time he won't get out of it so easily.
****
Next morning Bodie caught Doyle in the car park in front HQ. Annoyed, he shouted at Doyle, "What was that all about yesterday evening? Aren’t you interested in women any more? You’re becoming impossible." Doyle showed no reaction. Bodie grabbed Doyle's shoulder and shook him hard. "Damn, Ray, I am fed up with your behaviour."
Doyle broke away and ran into the building. Neither of them was aware that Cowley was standing at one of the windows and witnessed the whole scene. Cowley stopped Bodie in the stairwell and ordered him into his office. Doyle was already there.
"Now I have had enough of the two of you. I want to know what’s going on. Both of you have been acting very strangely during the last few weeks."
"We? You mean Doyle." The words spontaneously escaped Bodie.
"What have you to say, Doyle?"
"Nothing, sir." Doyle looked like he was going to cry any moment.
"Right, in an hour you are both seeing Dr Ross."
"But …" Bodie looked furious.
"No buts, Bodie, it’s an order. And afterwards I want an interim report on your results with the case of the Christmas murderer."
Wordlessly they left Cowley’s office. Tremendous fury glittering in Bodie’s eyes; fury about Doyle, fury about himself that he wasn't able to be quiet in Cowley's office and mostly fury about being condemned to talk to Dr Ross. Instead of going to their office Bodie went down to the gym and tried to work some of his anger out on the punch bag. He wasn’t sure how he would react towards Doyle and therefore decided to avoid contact with him.
When Bodie arrived late for the appointment with Dr Ross, her secretary informed him that he would have to wait because the doctor was busy with Doyle.
"Call me when she is free."
Without waiting for an answer he left the outer office and returned to his own office. He tried to calm down because he knew it wouldn't look good if he had an outburst at Dr Ross.
Bodie's face was blank when he finally entered Dr Ross’ office. He had managed to get his feelings under control and he didn’t want to leave himself wide open to Dr Ross. He had no idea why Doyle took so long with Dr Ross and what he has told her. And Bodie was sure that she would not reveal anything to him.
"Shall I lay down on your couch, doctor?" Bodie tried a grin.
"No, please take a seat on the chair, Bodie."
Dr Ross asked several questions to which Bodie gave either monosyllabic or truculent answers. Dr Ross felt the rejection, not the rejection against her personally but against her profession. Quickly she was forced to recognise that she wouldn’t get through to Bodie. But she didn’t want to let him know she was aware of it and continued to the end.
After Bodie left her office she breathed deeply and called Cowley. "Do you have a moment, sir? It’s about Bodie and Doyle."
Shortly after the call she was in Cowley's office. Cowley offered her a seat and could tell from her expression that she had no good news. "What is wrong with those two, Dr Ross?"
"It's not easy to say, sir. Neither was very forthcoming. That surprised me especially with Doyle. >From Bodie I didn't expect anything less. Neither of them were willing to talk about the problem and both tried very skilfully to talk around the topic."
"Is Bodie the problem?"
"Why do you think it’s Bodie, sir? – No, I think, the problem lies with Doyle. I think he is suffering from a massive form of winter depression."
"What? I can't believe that."
"I’ll explain my reasoning. Yesterday, when I told them both my theory about the murderer and told them that he has depressions because of the ‘dark season’, I noticed Doyle's reaction. But at the time I couldn’t make any sense of it. And Bodie tried to ridicule my theory with silly remarks."
"That’s typically Bodie." smiled Cowley.
"Yes, that’s typical for him. But today I see their behaviour in a different light. It’s obvious that Bodie usually tries to protect Doyle. But something happened yesterday which provoked an outburst of anger towards Doyle, the one you saw from your window this morning."
"And what would you advice?"
"Em, that’s not so easy. I am missing the background and I can’t count on Bodie and Doyle helping me. I have to get them talking in order to prove my guess."
"Time is getting short, Dr Ross, the Commissioner of Scotland Yard is pushing. He wants results and the arrest of a suspect. What would you recommend?"
"In their present mood they are not capable of working on this case."
"I haven't got enough time to instruct new men on this case. And I haven’t the right men on hand for this delicate job – they’re on the sick list or on assignment out of town. We are dealing here with top secret information from personal files. " Cowley said impatiently.
"I would recommend sending them for a refresher with Macklin. Two days, in which he physically demands all of their attention. Bodie gets the opportunity to work off his fury and Doyle, – that’s a little bit more difficult. But perhaps the physical exhaustion will push the emotional exhaustion to the background. That is my suggestion for an immediate step."
"And you think after two days they will function again, will be able to work successfully as a team?" Cowley watched Dr Ross sceptically.
"It’s worth a try."
"Good. Dr Ross, instruct Macklin, I will inform Bodie and Doyle. – I only hope you are right."
****
Bodie tried to protest when Cowley told them that they were assigned for a two-day refresher with Macklin. "Why so suddenly? But what about the Christmas murderer?"
"Let that be my problem, Bodie. Tomorrow morning at 6 a.m. sharp you are to report to Macklin. Is that clear, Bodie? – Doyle, is that clear to you too?"
"Yes, sir."
****
Macklin brought Towser for support. The report from Dr Ross had alarmed him. He was concerned there could be problems and things could get out of hand.
Bodie was very aggressive and challenged each training module while Doyle was quiet and dispassionately did everything he was ordered. Finally Macklin decided to risk it and called for a combat fight. He laid down the rules very precisely because he wanted to avoid the two of them hurting each other seriously.
At first Doyle was restrained, only repulsing Bodie’s attacks. He took some very painful hits. Macklin had to hold Bodie back again and again. Finally as Bodie hit Doyle very painfully on the chin, it seemed as if Doyle was waking from his trance and started to fight back. A fierce struggle began between them far exceeding anything that could be called a training fight. With difficulty and Tower’s help, Macklin succeeded in separating them
Macklin led an exhausted and breathless Doyle to the locker room while Towser tried to calm Bodie down. Dr Baker was called and he shook his head while first he fixed up Doyle and then Bodie.
"Macklin, what was your intention when you started this?"
"Ask Dr Ross, Dr Baker. It was her idea!"
Astonished, Dr Baker made a note of it and advised Macklin on the state of Bodie’s and Doyle’s health.
"So I can let them go on with the training." It was more a statement than a question.
"Yes, if you don’t let them loose on each other again. If there are signs of any problems call me. Apart from bruised ribs and split lips they are fine. I’m speaking purely physically of course. Anything else is Dr Ross’ responsibility."
"Thanks, Dr Baker."
****
How they survived the rest of that day and the second day afterwards neither of them could say. Finally they were glad to be able to concentrate again on the search for the Christmas murderer.
Doyle felt a bit better because during the last two days he had found no time to wallow in self-pity. Bodie too had been able to work out his anger and felt a little guilty that he dragged Doyle into all this.
Suddenly Doyle whistled through his teeth. "Bodie, I’ve found it. Why didn’t I notice it the first time? In each inquiry Heike Warden was involved. I didn’t notice it at first because she changed her name twice and in some reports her first name was only written with the initial. First she signed as Heike Müller – her father was German. After her marriage she changed her family name to Thompson and when her husband died, she married a Victor Warden shortly afterwards. – I know her a bit."
"Krampus, that’s German, you said? Okay, let’s go. Where do we find the lady?"
"Seems like she’s on holiday. That was the reason why we couldn’t speak to her. Let’s try at her place nevertheless. She lives near Crystal Palace."
****
During the drive across the city they remained silent. They were lost in their own thoughts and neither of them seemed to know how to bring the talk around to the events of the last few days.
They were surprised to find Heike Thompson at home. After ringing the bell at the door of a little terraced house, a female voice answered them. "I’ll be right with you."
Shortly afterwards a very attractive brunette opened the door – Bodie guessed her to be in her mid-thirties.
"Hey Heike, do you remember me?"
It took a moment before Heike Thompson answered and a smile came over her face. "Yes, of course, Doyle. Ray Doyle. Nice to see you. How are you? What’s up?"
"We – this is my partner Bodie – are investigating the Christmas murders. I’m with CI5 now."
"Oh, what has CI5 to do with murder? I thought it was our case. – Yes, it’s an awful case. How many has he killed? Eight or nine?"
"Nine," replied Bodie. Something about the woman puzzled him. But he couldn’t pin down the feeling. He was surprised that she seemed to be unsure about the number of victims despite being involved in the case as a young inspector.
"Please come into the living room. Can I offer you something? Tea? Coffee?"
"Tea would be nice." Bodie nodded in agreement.
"I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home."
"Doyle..." Bodie started but Doyle signalled him to be quiet and indicated to him that he shared his reservations.
From the kitchen they heard the rattle of crockery. Both looked around the living room that was already decorated for Christmas. A figure of Santa Claus stood under the Christmas tree and next to him a figure of a grim looking man with a sack over his shoulder. ‘That has to be Krampus,’ Bodie thought.
Doyle started a casual conversation with Bodie about football. He didn’t want to sit in silence and so give Heike Thompson any hint that he suspected her.
Finally Heike came back with a tray and poured them tea.
After some small talk about Christmas Doyle returned to the case. "Can you give me any tips, Heike? Did you have any ideas as to why he does these murders? And who his next victim could be?"
"No, Ray, I can’t help you with this. I have absolutely no idea."
"But you must have thought about it and formed your own opinion as to who the killer could be. And how he chose his victims and why he started with a homeless person and worked up to a successful businessman?"
"I am sorry, Mr. Bodie, but I have no theories. All that we found out is in the reports. But why are you two investigating this case? Do you expect another murder?"
"Does the name Krampus mean anything to you?"
Doyle didn’t miss the slight twitch Heike gave. "No, who would that be?" she forced out.
"Knecht Ruprecht, Santa Claus’ helper."
"Now you’re talking in riddles, Ray. I can’t follow you. Are you suggesting that Krampus is the killer?"
Bodie stood up and went slowly toward the Christmas tree. Heike moved uneasily on her chair. Her glance followed Bodie who slowly bent down and picked up the figure next to Father Christmas.
Heike sprang up and ran to the kitchen. "I think I have forgotten to switch off the stove."
She came back from the kitchen a moment later holding her hands behind her back. She walked up to Bodie, careful to ensure that Doyle couldn’t see what she was hiding behind her back.
Bodie held the figure out to her. "Who is this?"
"Krampus" hissed Heike and took one step nearer to Bodie. Suddenly Doyle saw what she was holding behind her back, a knife.
"Bodie" he cried and sprinted toward Heike. Bodie managed to get hold of Heike’s wrist. But she was like a hellcat and managed to hit her elbow against Bodie’s ribs, exactly at the point where Doyle landed his blow two days ago. Bodie gasped for breath and it seemed like Heike would take the chance to put her knife at Bodie’s throat. But she obviously had forgotten about Doyle. He grasped her wrist hard from behind, twisted her arm behind her back and forced her to let the knife drop.
Bodie forced her other arm behind her back and slipped on the handcuffs. An insane look glittered in Heike’s eyes and she started laughing hysterically.
While Doyle informed Cowley Bodie pushed her down on the chair. His ribs were giving him hell and stiffly he too sat down on a chair.
"Cowley is on his way. He called the psychiatric ambulance. – Bodie, are you all right?"
"Yeah," he whispered. "Now I owe you one. And please remind me not to start a training fight when we’re both not ourselves. – Don’t make me laugh, Doyle, it hurts."
"Sorry, Bodie."
Despite the pain in his ribs Bodie couldn’t help laughing. He was very relieved to see Doyle laugh again and after solving such a horrible murder case, it seemed that the tension had gone.
"Bodie, do you know what today is?"
"Yes, the 21st of December, why?"
"It’s the shortest day of the year. From tomorrow the days become longer again. I almost can’t believe it." Their laughter was drowned only by Heike’s hysterical laughing.
Shortly afterward Cowley arrived together with the forensic team and Dr Ross. Following them were the men in white coats as Doyle termed the men in the psychiatric ambulance, with a grin in his face. After talking with the doctor and Dr Ross, Cowley ordered Heike Thompson to be transported to a psychiatric hospital and sent Lucas and McCabe with them.
Satisfied he turned to Bodie and Doyle. "My congratulations, gentlemen. You finally managed it in time. What made you suspect Mrs. Thompson?"
"Doyle noticed it today."
"Yes, I suddenly noticed, that she was involved in all the cases. I didn’t register it first time, because she changed her name twice by marriage and because only the initial of her first name was used on some of the reports. I only made the connection when I looked at her personal file. But I never expected it to be so easy to prove "
"She lost her nerve and practically gave herself away." Bodie added.
"She is a very sick woman," remarked Dr Ross. "She felt cornered by you two and panicked." She looked at Cowley enquiring. "Em, was my suggestion right?"
"I have to say I was very sceptical at first, but you were right, it paid off. Thank you, Dr Ross."
Bodie and Doyle looked at each other puzzled not understanding what the other two were talking about.
Cowley noticed in surprise that Doyle was now very concerned about Bodie. He helped him up from the couch and told Cowley that he was taking him to Dr Baker because he was worried that Heike’s blow to Bodie’s ribs may have cracked them. Bodie willingly let himself be helped by Doyle.
"I expect your written report first thing tomorrow morning." Cowley called after them.
****
"Take a seat."
"I would prefer to stand, sir," replied Bodie. "What Doyle didn’t managed this crazy woman did. Two of my ribs are cracked."
Cowley couldn’t hide a smile. "I have to pass on to you, thanks from Mister Parker and the minister. Both are very relieved that this nightmare is over. Nine innocent people had to die ..."
"Do you know why she did it?" interrupted Doyle.
"No, she hasn’t been able to give a statement. But the evidence we found at her house and her diary will prove her guilt. She is definitely the killer. Dr Ross isn’t sure if she will ever stand trial. It looks like she is in a heavy psychosis and won’t recover. She may spend the rest of her life in a psychiatric hospital. We may never know why she did the murders. – By the way you two have an outstanding appointment with Dr Ross."
"No, that’s won’t be necessary now. The days are getting longer again and besides, Bodie gave me a present of Hypericum tea."
Cowley looked amazed at them both. He couldn’t make head or tail of Doyle’s answer. But before he could demand an explanation, they wished him a merry Christmas and darted out of his office.
The yell "Bodie! Doyle!" died away unheard in the hallway.
End
by Gitti, deutsches Original vom 01.01.2001
translation into English by Gitti and Sue, December 2001
back to "Gittis Stories"