Denton CID

Part 2

Louis had never met a detective like him before. The nature of the job tended to strip a person down by the time they reached DS and Louis couldn't help but feel curious as to how Harry had kept himself so wholesome. You didn't get to the position of Detective Inspector without a life-changing journey. Harry didn't appear to have any visible scars, physical or emotional, and as an ex-Met detective the guy must have bore witness to some of the most distressing cases out there.

A flash of bright blue caught his eye above the hedge row and he realised they were almost at the perimeter. His stomach clenched. Regardless of what caused the death, he was going to tear a family apart tonight. Their child was dead... their child. Three weeks before Christmas too. Christ... there were probably unwrapped presents sitting in a cupboard somewhere... presents that wouldn't see the bottom of a Christmas tree or the gleeful smile of a giftee. The thought of a grieving parent having to deal with that as well as the loss of their child... God, he blinked rapidly to clear the burn in his eyes.

As the car rounded the bend he found they were, indeed, at the outer-perimeter of the scene. Thirty metres beyond the 'police incident' sign was a mess of emergency vehicles, officers, cones and tape; procedure, he liked to see that. A cold and sodden looking officer in a fluorescent jacket indicated for him to stop and, winding down his window, Louis slowed and flashed his I.D.

"Evening, sir" the constable greeted and Louis recognised him as 26 year-old PC Chris McPherson of the traffic division. The guy looked a little surprised and also a lot relieved to see him, "Are you taking on this case? We were expecting DCI Allen."

"Jim's caught up with one of his cases so we're filling in for now," Louis explained.

At the 'we' the PC ducked down a little so he could see the passenger seat and tipped his hat respectively to Harry. Obviously he didn't know who he was but was experienced enough to recognise a senior officer. "Right, sir" McPherson said, straightening up, "I'll let them know you're here. If you just park up to the side there..." he pointed towards the verge, "the body is to the front of Charlie Baker 1," he indicated the car in the middle of the scene. "The police surgeon is also there – I believe he wants to talk to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you, McPherson." Louis wound the window up and pulled the car over to the side, graciously leaving enough room so Harry didn't step out into the ditch. "Brace yourself," he warned, buttoning up his coat. He knew how open to the elements this area was – when the direction was just right it was like stepping into a wind tunnel. Harry did up his coat too and they both clambered out, wincing as the squalling sleet splattered against their faces. Louis pulled his beanie down lower before trudging towards the tape. An officer was awaiting them with gloves and shoe covers. With way too much practiced ease they slipped them on and ducked into the scene.

The body was, indeed, a few metres in front of the car and was being considerately kept dry by a series of umbrellas and a weighted down plastic sheet. In the middle of putting his kit away was the police surgeon. Louis recognised the blond tips immediately and smiled, teasing out an, "Oi oi look lively, Dr Horan's in da house. All hail the almighty."

The man's head snapped up and he offered a tired grin, "Well, well, I might have known it would be you, Tomlinson. Somehow you always get the ones in the worst of conditions. If it's not at the bottom of a sewage pipe it's out in the middle of nowhere in the midst of a winter storm."

"Just like to keep you on your toes," Louis declared, giving the man a quick one-armed hug. "How you doing, mate?" He and Niall Horan had been friends for a long time now. The young Irish doctor had taken over the role as 'police surgeon' seven years ago when Dr Maynard had retired. Sharing a similar age and personality, he and Louis had hit it off straight away. Of course, given the nature of their jobs, it was hard to meet up regularly but they tried not to let more than a month slip by between drinks at the King's Arms. However, they often caught ten minutes of chit chat every other day at the station when Niall popped in to declare a suspect fit for interview or to deal with a medical issue in one of the cells.