Crystal
by elfin
“The way he looks at me... so much affection, so much amusement... like
he’s having the time of his life. However irritated he becomes,
he’s still smiling.” A sad smile breaks through the drying tears
on Tom’s face. “And he looks... beautiful, so beautiful in
cricket whites.”
Joyce’s hand tightens on his shoulder. “He’s going to be okay,
Tom.” She’s ignoring his not-so-little slip and he’s grateful,
it’s not so much a secret as something they haven’t talked about
yet. They might never have done, if the masons hadn’t taken their
revenge on his sergeant.
“There was so much blood....” His voice is as quiet as he is
pale.
“I’m sure it was only superficial.”
“Not exactly.” George Bullard in surgical blues meets them in the
corridor outside the operating room. “He has lost a lot of blood,
Tom, but he should be okay. They’ve stitched his windpipe and his
throat, he’s being transfused and they’ll wait for him to wake
up.” He takes a deep breath and Tom feels his blood running
cold. “If you hadn’t found him when you did.... But you
did. He’s a very lucky man.”
Tom shakes his head. “No, he isn’t.” Not lucky to have
landed Tom Barnaby as a DCI, to have to betray his beliefs, his sworn
promises just to make his stubborn, never-happy-with-anything boss
content. “Can I see him?”
“As soon as he’s out of recovery. I couldn’t tell you for certain
but I would say that the weapon...”
“...was one of those wavy-bladed Mason ceremonial knives.”
Bullard nods. “From the way the skin was caught along the wound.”
“It’s James Taylor.” And again Tom’s torn between staying at the
hospital and rushing back to the station where the man who tried to
murder his sergeant has been arrested and already charged; Tom is sure,
absolutely certain about Taylor’s guilt. But he wants to see Ben,
to see him alive with his own eyes before he leaves; wants to see for
himself that his sergeant really is going to be okay. “He sees
Jones as a traitor to the lodge. He betrayed them all to me, to
solve our case.”
“I believe the traditional punishment is to cut out the
tongue....” George trails off, stopped by the expressions on Tom
and Joyce’s faces. “Sorry.”
“Will you do me another favour? Be with him when he wakes?”
George nods, turns and walks away without another word.
~
There are no barriers to smash through. Tom picks up Ben’s hand
from the white sheet and holds it as naturally and with as much ease as
he would have done Joyce’s. He woke up in recovery, according to
George, but he’s still groggy from the anaesthetic and the morphine,
and it’ll be a while before he’s compus mentus and able to answer any
of the standard questions. Just watching him breathe is enough
for Tom. He’s the one who found him, following up on nothing more
than a hunch when his sergeant didn’t answer an emergency call earlier
in the day, recalling the accusation in Taylor’s eyes and his words,
threads of thought suddenly all putting taut in his mind, conclusion
clear. He drove at breakneck speed to Jones’ flat in Causton, saw
the open door and found Ben slouched against the side of the couch
clutching his throat, eyes wide with stark terror. He called an
ambulance, called the station and requested forensics, called
Bullard. Then he knelt on the hard wood floor with his hand
wrapped tightly around Ben’s throat, pressing on the wound as hard as
he could without cutting off the man’s air supply, making sure he was
breathing, albeit loud and painful breaths. All he was able to do
was monitor and reassure until the medics arrived in a blur of blue
light and sound. By then Ben was swimming in and out of
consciousness, muttering something Tom couldn’t understand.
Sitting at his sergeant’s bedside, he holds Ben’s hand between his own
and rests his forearms on the mattress. This isn’t his fault yet
he still feels responsible. Ben is his responsibility, like Gavin
was for so many years, and because of him, because of his drive to
solve that particular case – the Kings Crystal affair – Ben has been
attacked, almost killed, might have bled to death if Tom hadn’t gone
round; if Tom had been just a few minutes later. Taking a deep
breath, he wipes his eyes on the back of his hand before resting his
forehead against the back of Ben’s. There’s so much he wants to
say but he doesn’t, not even with Ben asleep. He’s stayed silent
up to now even though he sometimes thinks he can see his own feelings
mirrored back at him in his sergeant’s eyes.
Ben’s fingers move through his own and he lifts his head, smiles into
blood-shot eyes and sits up. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” It comes out as a scraping sound, and Tom shakes his head,
hushing him.
“You won’t be able to talk for a little while. You have stitches
in your throat.” He has to stop himself from wincing in
sympathy. “You’re going to be fine but it’ll be a few days before
it’s healed enough for you to talk.” It’s the simplest of things,
but Tom has his notebook in his jacket pocket and he lifts it out along
with his pen, puts them on the bed close to Ben’s right hand, still
holding on. “Are you okay to answer a couple of questions?
Just squeeze my hand once for yes, twice for no, okay?”
One squeeze. Yes. And a beautiful, tired smile.
“Was it James Taylor?”
Another yes. But the smile vanishes.
“I’ve already arrested and charged him.” It comes back, bright as
sunshine. “Did he say why he wanted to hurt you?”
Yes. “Because you betrayed the lodge?” Yes. “I’m so
sorry, Ben. This is my fault.” Ben squeezes his hand twice,
and squeezes it tight. “I shouldn’t have made you do that.”
His face creases in annoyance and he scrabbles for the notepad but Tom
keeps it just out of reach. “Okay, okay.” He watches his
sergeant drop back against the pillows and tilts his head, unable to
keep the affection from his eyes. “It’s all right to sleep.
There are still pain killers in your in your system, they’ll make you
drowsy.” Ben’s eyes close, breath escapes his open mouth and his
shoulders drop. Tom waits a few moments before reaching up and
smoothing out messy dark hair. “You sacred me,” he murmurs
softly, but there’s no response and he doesn’t want one.
For a while he just watches his sergeant sleep, holds his hand and
tells himself he needs to leave, to go to the station, interview
Taylor. Just a couple more minutes. He doesn’t want Ben
waking alone even though he doesn’t seem confused in any way; he seems
to know where he is and what’s happened. Still, he’s allowed to
be scared and Tom tells himself that’s why he’s staying. Just for
a little while longer.
fin