Chapter Text
One
Jakes sighed as he dragged himself to his feet and trudged towards the desk sergeant on duty that morning.
Three murders in the span of two weeks. The mayor was breathing down Bright's neck, Bright was snapping at Thursday, and Thursday, in turn, was being unbearably demanding of him and Morse.
Morse, of course, who had decided that the three victims were, in fact, somehow connected - but the lack of evidence was making their jobs twice as hard. If he hadn't seen first-hand the incredible jumps the man's mind made, he would've been annoyed. But as it were, Jakes knew the younger man enough by now to realise that he wasn't being arrogant or snobbish, he actually was that smart.
"Hey Strange" he greeted, glad for the familiar face at the front desk, "Thursday call yet?"
"Still with the family of the Bannon lad" he replied, "Shouldn't be more than an hour".
"Right. Thanks".
"Morse found any leads yet?"
"Two, apparently". He rolled his eyes. "But you know what he's like, he'd-"
The sudden bang of the front door against the wall made them jump, and Jakes spun around only to see a panicked-looking young girl run in.
He frowned. "Hey kid, you alright?"
Bright blue eyes latched onto him and he was startled to see tears in them. Quickly walking over, he hesitated for a brief moment before crouching down in front of her, aloof reputation be damned. "Are you okay? Where are your parents?"
"I- I'm looking for my- my daddy" she stuttered, "Are you a police officer?"
He nodded. "I am. I'm a Detective Sergeant here… My name's Peter, what's yours?"
"Abigail" she replied, "But my daddy calls me Abby".
"That's a lovely name". He smiled. "But your dad must be getting pretty worried about you. Where did you last see him?"
She shook her head vehemently, looking at him like he'd said something particularly stupid. "No! No, I didn't lose him, I'm here for him! There was a- a- an accident and Mrs Laskey was hurt and my daddy always said to go to the police if I needed help but he's police and I need him so-"
"Your dad works in this station?" he interrupted, surprised, and she nodded again.
A quick glance back at Strange offered no help, as the man shrugged and shook his head.
He stood. "Well then, Ms Abigail, how about we go find him while you tell me more about this accident, okay?"
She brightened considerably, wiping her tears away and gladly taking his hand, and Jakes found himself equally glad to not have to deal with a crying child.
"You said that someone got hurt?" he asked, leading her towards the office, "A Mrs… Lansky?"
"Laskey" she corrected, "She's our neighbour but I stay with her during the day while daddy's at work and today we went- went shopping and there was a- a car and- and-"
And oh god she was going to start crying, again, wasn't she?
Jakes sped up and quickly steered her into the bullpen. "I'm sure she'll be alright kid. Now who did you say your dad was again?"
"I didn't!" she said exasperated, "You're a detective, you should know that! And what if Mrs Laskey isn't okay? What if she- she-"
"Abby?"
Jakes's gaze snapped up to survey the room. Now who had just…
"Abby!"
He spun just in time to see a streak of tawny hair dash past him and kneel on the floor in front of the small child.
"What happened? What's wrong? Why are you here?"
Jakes blinked. And blinked again. As did everyone else in the station. Because there was no way-
"Are you hurt?" Morse continued, hands frantically running up and down the girl's coat and bright yellow dress, searching for injury. "Where's Mrs Laskey?"
The girl stared at him in silence for a moment, then burst into tears.
Morse immediately pulled her close. "Hey, hey, you're alright, calm down, you're safe now, I'm here Abby, you're okay".
My daddy calls me Abby.
Jakes blinked once more.
Holy shit.
Scooping the child up into his arms, Morse stood and made his way back to his desk, not noticing, or perhaps just not caring, of the dozen eyes that followed. Carefully taking a seat, he manoeuvred the girl with ease until she was sitting sideways in his lap, still holding her close.
Jakes slowly leaned back against his own desk, gaze remaining latched on the unlikely pair.
"What happened?" Morse repeated, gently pulling her back enough to see her face, "Where's Mrs Laskey?"
"There was a- a- an accident" she said, voice wobbling, "We were shopping and c-crossing the road but then- then she turned back c-cause she'd dropped a- a bag and- and a c-car c-came round a c-corner and- and- and-"
She sobbed and buried her head in his chest again, and his arms wrapped around her."Hey, shh, it's okay. Where's Mrs Laskey now?"
"H-Hospital". She sniffed. "I waited to make sure the a-ambulance c-came but- but there were so many people and s-shouting and y-yelling and I panicked so I- I ran here and I know I'm not supposed to go off on my own b-but I was so scared daddy and- and-"
She sobbed, and the rest of the room stilled.
She had called him-
He really was-
Morse was-
"Holy shit".
Morse was currently glaring at him.
Oh right, kid, fuck.
"Holy sh- sugar" Jakes finished, lamely, "I… I said sugar. I meant to say sugar. Not sh- I mean, uh, not- not that. Sugar. Holy sugar".
Abigail giggled, turning to give him a watery smile, and Morse's gaze softened as he reached up to brush back her hair.
Her very reddish-browny-blonde hair, Jakes belatedly realised, the exact same weird shade as Morse's. In fact, looking at them both now, in front of him, he could see more similarities. The rounded ear tips, the gentle shape of the mouth, the smattering of freckles across the nose and cheeks. Abigail was, without any uncertainty or doubt, his.
This was Morse's daughter.
Jakes said as much, and the younger man nodded. "Yeah. She is".
There was something defensive in his tone.
"I, uh… I didn't realise you were married" he said, consciously aware of the other officers listening in.
"I'm not" Morse replied, a hint of steel in his voice, eyes flashing dangerously as if daring him to challenge him.
"Oh… Oh. Okay, then" he finished awkwardly.
"Problem?"
"No, not at all" he replied honestly, "My… My mum wasn't married either".
Eyeing him for a moment longer, he gave a sharp nod, and Jakes felt like he'd passed some invisible test.
Waiting until Morse turned back to the girl, he levelled a hard gaze at the other men in the room, all of whom quickly turned back to their work.
Returning to his own chair was a bit more challenging, as Jakes felt his eyes drifting back to the pair every few seconds as if drawn there by a magnetic force, watching father and daughter speak quietly to one another as the kid began to calm down.
He was on his 34th subtle glance when the office door opened once more and Thursday stepped through. Quickly standing up, he made his way over to the governor just as the old man spied the pair in the corner.
He blinked. Frowned. Appeared to be doing some sort of mental arithmetic. Failed. Then turned to Jakes for the answer.
"Morse's kid" he said quietly, "Name's Abigail. She rushed in after the babysitter was brought to the hospital because of a hit and run, but she seems to be alright. Mother's not in the picture, apparently".
Thursday turned back, studying them closely for a minute.
"... How did we not know this?"
Jakes shrugged. "I've been asking myself the same thing for the last twenty minutes, sir".
"Some detectives we are" he huffed, before continuing the walk to his office, "Morse, with me".
He looked up, startled, before getting to his feet and depositing his daughter where he'd been sitting. He glanced towards the open office door, then back at Abigail, clearly conflicted.
"I'll mind her".
It took a second for Jakes to realise that it was him who had spoken.
Morse turned to him, clearly surprised, but after a moment, even more surprisingly, he nodded.
He gave his daughter a stern look. "Behave".
She smiled sweetly. "Of course, daddy".
Jakes snorted.
Clearly, she'd inherited her father's trouble-making proclivities as well.
Morse stepped into the private office and shut the door behind him. "Sir".
"Have a seat" Thursday replied, lighting his pipe.
He did as told and braced himself for the worst. It wasn't exactly professional to bring a child to a police station, after all, and even less so to have his daughter sitting at his desk. He hoped it wasn't enough of an issue for a dismissal, but a suspension wasn't out of the question.
"Where are we with the Allen case?"
Morse started. "... Sir?"
"The Allen case" he replied, puffing on his pipe, "The string of supposedly unconnected murders. Any leads?"
"Any… Any leads…" Morse trailed off, confused, before quickly shaking himself out of it, "Yes sir. Uh, two, actually. Mr Allen's neighbour recalled seeing a man lurking around the premises about a week before he was killed, and when she asked who he was, he said he was from the electricity board. I've contacted them, but they said they never sent someone out to Allen's property".
"Good. Then we've got a suspect. The other lead?"
"I re-interviewed the family of the first victim, Sarah Vickery. They said nothing new, but when I was leaving the sister walked me to the door and whispered that Vickery had recently started seeing someone. She didn't mention it before because the parents didn't know. An older man, apparently, not someone her family would have approved of".
"And you think that this mysterious trespasser and the boyfriend are one and the same?"
"I think it's a high possibility sir" he said honestly, "Both strangers would have known the home of the deceased, and they would have had a way in without causing suspicion, a reason to hang around and wait for the opportune moment to strike".
"The perfect cover... Good work, Morse" Thursday said, nodding, "Now all we need is a motive and the name of our mystery man. Contact the family of the other victim, see if there was anyone new in Bannon's life as well".
"Yes sir" he replied, standing.
"Oh, and Morse?"
"Sir?"
Thursday held his gaze as he purposely reached up and removed his hat, placing it on the desk next to him. He swallowed thickly and sat back down.
"You have a daughter".
"… I do".
"Abigail, was it?"
He nodded.
"Nice name, Abigail".
"It was my grandmothers" he replied, "And my mother's middle name as well".
"You named her then?"
Morse heard the unspoken question.
"Abby's own mother wanted nothing to do with her" he said, tone even and somewhat flat, "I named her. I raised her. She's mine".
Thursday stared at him, taking in his hunched shoulders and clenched fist, a man ready to take on the world to protect his child.
He sighed. "Jakes said there was an accident. Is the girl okay?"
"Scared, panicked, upset… But she didn't get hurt. She'll be alright once the shock wears off".
"And the babysitter?"
"Mrs Laskey?" Morse frowned. "I contacted the hospital, but they wouldn't give out much information since I'm not a relative. A broken leg, apparently, and a few cuts and bruises, but she's expected to make a full recovery".
"Good" he replied, replacing his hat on top of his head, "Take the rest of the day off".
"Sir?"
He saw the panic in the younger man's eyes and sighed. "You're not being suspended, Morse. I still expect you in here bright and early tomorrow morning, but right now, your daughter needs you. Take her home, have a quiet night in, make sure she's okay".
Morse felt a burning in his eyes and angrily pushed it down. "Thank you, sir".
"If it were my Joan, lad, I'd want Bright to do the same for me".