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nothing_rhymes_with_iantoIntro
Hello? Okay… Right, can you hear me? [Gwen laughs] Oh god, why am I doing this? Of course you can’t hear me. Except... he said… Okay. Here’s the thing. Yesterday, we met this trader from the planet Mergatroid. Kind of like a door-to-door salesman, but with orange skin and breath that smelt of... Well, Jack called it stardust. It was more like fried eggs to me. So yeah, anyway. Before we sent him packing, he gave me this copper ball thing and he said if I spoke into it I’d be able to talk to you. So, this is me, Gwen Cooper, trying to talk to you.
I’ve been thinking back, over the last few weeks. To something that happened ages ago. It was before the Daleks, before CERN, before I got married. And it was before you… It was before Owen and Tosh died. It feels like a lifetime ago. And it was something that really made me think about whether there’s life after death. Or whether, when it ends, it really is just… darkness.
Chapter 1
“Hello? Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me, please? There must be someone. Please, god, tell me someone’s there! Please!”
A few seconds later, midnight. Steven Ballard is standing at the top of Queens Street, and he’s screaming. It’s all he can do. That, and remember what’s brought him here.
A few hours earlier, four pm - the inevitable ping bouncing around the office. An email. Anyone fancy a pint after work? Just the one. More pings as everyone replies, God yeah. Five pm, shutdown. Are you sure you want to shut down the computer? Oh yeah, they’re sure. Grabbing coats and bags and piling into lifts. Ping, second floor. Ping, first floor. Ping. Freedom.
Five fifteen and he’s standing at the bar. Six pints of lager, two glasses of wine, three packets of smoky bacon, sitting down, lager splashing. And he’s telling them all about the party he went to on Monday night. Oh yeah, he goes to parties on a Monday night. Grinning as they hang on his every word.
Fast forward, it’s ten pm and everything’s starting to blur. The lightweights and the marrieds have gone. It’s just Steve, Fat Beth, the Chinese dude from Marketing, and, of course, Darren. Stupid little Darren. Fat Beth wants to go to Exit – it’s full of gays, but the music’s decent. And Steve knows he can always pull some stupid bint. Especially if he takes Darren. Looking down at Darren, always looking back up at him and making Steve look good. Ten thirty and they’re still trying to decide. Chinese dude’s asleep, so he’s out. Steve’s realizing that he can’t be arsed to walk to the club, so instead he’s getting Darren to get another round in. Flaming Sambucas, ole. Ten thirty five and Darren’s back from the loo. Steve’s still laughing at the red burns on the idiot’s top lip. He’d remember that for next time. Because there’ll always be a next time. Darren-No-Mates, following him around like a dog. Talking of dogs, Fat Beth is snogging the barman for a free aftershock. Bloody hell. Go to bed with her and you really feel the aftershocks. Steve laughing away at his own joke.
Eleven pm and they’re being kicked out. Fat Beth, asleep in the gutter, Steve, knowing what’s coming. It’s the same every night. Darren asking if they can, you know, maybe like, you know, possibly share a taxi? Maybe the little tit fancies him. Who knows, who cares. Steve knowing at least he won’t have to pay the fair. And there’s a taxi coming around the corner. So, tempting just to push Darren in front of it…. He’s wittering on about how much fun he’s had. Like getting hammered is still some big new thing for him. And they’re climbing into the taxi and collapsing into the seat. The taxi’s moving and he’s watching the streetlights pass, and some girl chucking up on the pavement, her mates crowded around. Head lolling and sitting in silence, except for the radio playing some god awful song he’s never heard of. And they’re moving through the streets, and gradually he’s realizing that Darren’s talking. Asking the driver if he’s had a busy night. And Steve just can’t take it anymore.
“Who cares? He doesn’t know you! We don’t know him! Do you have to say the same crap every bloody night?” And he’s pleased because Darren looks like he’s about to cry. So he carries on. Gotta get your kicks somehow. “You know what, Darren? No one likes you. They don’t. Sorry man. You know why they talk to you? Cause they think you’re my mate. They don’t even notice you. Loser, man. That’s what you are. Stupid little loser. So just… for god’s sake, shut the hell up.”
Chapter 2
Midnight. Screaming at the top of Queens Street. And Steven Ballard’s realizing that was probably a bit harsh. It’s just he’d been drunk and he’d had enough of work and the routine and the sitting in the pub getting wrecked with people he didn’t even like. It wasn’t exactly Darren’s fault. And he’s trying to remember what happened next.
Eleven fifteen and he’s looking out of the taxi window at everything blurring past. Bloody Darren, snivelling. But all Steve cares about is his bed. Few hours sleep, then back to it all tomorrow. Yellow streetlights blurring past him. Yellow lights blurring. Yellow lights. Mellow yellow. Bang! Suddenly, he’s opening his eyes. Moment of panic. How long has he been asleep? Eleven forty five, he’s turning to Darren but Darren’s gone. He’s realizing he’s not in the taxi anymore. Okay, weird, but still okay. He’s standing in the street looking up at a sign. Eyes focusing… Charles Street. Just off Queens Street. Lighting a cigarette, big draw of dry nicotine. Big mistake. Big mistake. Head rush. Staggering onto Queens Street. Something wrong but he can’t work out what. Wishing he was sober. Then he’s on Queens Street and he’s realizing what’s missing.
Silence. He can’t hear anything. Bing! His mobile. Taking it out of his pocket and looking. No message. No network. Clicking to contacts, to call someone, anyone. But the contacts are gone as well. That’s mental. But, it’s still all okay. Everything’s mental at this time of night. Mental is normal, it’s okay. And then, looking down Queens Street, he’s noticing there’s no one there. They’re all gone. And he’s thinking about that film, the one with the zombies in London. That guy waking up, and everyone’s gone.
Throwing away the cigarette because he really needs to clear his head, because it’s seriously strange now. Not just mental, there’s something properly wrong. Listening and there’s just no sound. Nothing. No distant thumping from a club, no arguing couples, no cars. Nothing. There’s nobody. Christ, there’s nobody.
Midnight. And he’s standing at the top of Queens Street and he’s listening. And he’s looking, and he’s checking his phone and he’s realizing, at long last, he’s realizing.
“Hello? Anyone? Can anyone hear me?” And he starts to scream as his mind finally makes sense of it all. Because it was at midnight that Steven Ballard realized he was the only man left on Earth. So yeah. He kept on screaming.
Chapter 3
Gwen Cooper looked up at Rhys and grinned. It didn’t matter that people kept getting in their way. It didn’t matter that the sun was tickling her nose. None of it mattered because she was with Rhys, and they were getting married. Married! She still felt that thrill leap up inside her whenever she thought about the word. And she was marrying Rhys Williams. The man she loved. The man she’d cheated on. The man she saw die, the man she nearly sacrificed the world for. The man she was now going to buy cushions with. She couldn’t help it, she laughed.
“What?” asked Rhys, stopping, that bemused look she adored plastered all over his face.
“Nothing,” she replied with a grin.
“You’re mad, you are,” he smiled back. They linked arms and continued walking down Queens Street. The sun shinning, the city beautiful, everything just perfect. And that of course was when her mobile started to ring.
“Tenner says it’s Torchwood,” said Rhys, clearly forcing an ‘I-don’t-mind-really’ smile.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the phone. “There’s a tenner you owe me, then. Hi Andy!” Gwen smiled her thanks at Rhys as he left to go stare into a shop window. She knew he was doing it to be polite, which is why he wouldn’t have realized he was looking at a display of baby clothes. She’d wind him up about that later.
“Gwen, are you listening?” Suddenly she realized that PC Andy Davidson had already launched into a story.
“Sorry, Andy. What was it?”
“Well there’s been this murder, yeah? But it’s all a bit weird. All a bit... Torchwood.”
She looked over at her fiancé. She was meant to be... Oh, but Rhys would forgive her, wouldn’t he? He always did. “Ok, Andy. Do you want me to come down there?”
“Well,” Andy replied. “I mean, as long as you’re not too-”
She cut him off before he could have a go. She walked over to Rhys, the ‘Forgive-Me’ smile forced onto her face.
Chapter 4
“Can I help you?” The young PC behind the desk didn’t recognize Gwen. Which was fine because she didn’t recognize him either. It had been well over a year since she worked at the station. She’d give the PC a winning smile and was about to introduce herself when a familiar voice sounded behind her.
“Oh, Gwen. What’s occurring?” She turned away from the desk to see Andy bounding over. Bless him, he looked excited.
“Hi Andy, how’s it going?”
“Fantastic.” He took her arm and lead her quickly through to the morgue, a grin plastered across his face. “Oh, Gwen, this is so Torchwood.”
Gwen looked down at the skeleton. “So?”
Andy turned to her with big, wide, Bambi eyes. “He’s dead, Gwen.”
Part of Gwen wanted to punch him, but she couldn’t help grinning. When she’d first been partnered with him, Gwen had suspected Andy was a bit, well, thick. And that’s what many of their colleagues had thought. She remembered how Sgt Rollins had introduced him, as a nice lad. Down to Earth. And that’s all people thought there was to Andy. But she’d soon discovered that, as well as actually being pretty intelligent; he also had a heart of gold and was solely in the job to help people. That’s what made him happy. Of course all that didn’t stop Andy Davidson from sometimes being a Grade A prat.
“Yes, thank you. I can see he’s dead. In fact, I can see that he’s clearly been dead for a long time,” she patted his arm, “What, with him being a skeleton.”
“Ah, you’re wrong there, Amanda Burton.” Andy grinned mischievously. “In fact, he didn’t die ages ago. Our man died this week.”
Gwen remembered at time when all she seemed to say was, ‘But that’s impossible!’ These days, of course, she knew anything was possible. “Fair enough,” she shrugged. “Tell me about it.”
“Medical records,” Andy handed Gwen a printout. “Steven Ballard, 24. Worked for Fayes Auto Finance and lived in Splott.”
Gwen studied the records. “And when did he disappear? I’m guessing that he disappeared.”
“Two days ago, after a night out boozing. Then yesterday morning Skeletor here was found in the doorway of Smith’s on Queens Street. The guy who found it thought it was some kind of practical joke at first. But we brought it in and dental records confirmed it’s... he’s our missing Mr. Ballard.”
‘But that’s impossible!’ Gwen’s mind shouted. But out loud, she summarized. “So, our man disappears two days ago and his skeleton turns up yesterday and...” She waited for Andy to deliver the punch line.
“And the remains have been examined. And Mr Ballard was about 70 years old when he died.” Andy smiled again. “So, that Torchwood enough for you?”
Gwen nodded. “Oh yes.” She ran through various possibilities in her mind as Andy lead her to the door. Alien abduction? Rift activity? Some kind of cloning... thing?
“Oh, there’s one more thing,” Andy said, turning back to her and doing his best Colombo impression. “We’ve arrested the man who killed him. It was all captured on the old CCTV.”
“So why do you need me?” asked Gwen.
“Well, there’s something odd about that as well.”
Chapter 5
Toshiko Sato took off her glasses and leant back, rubbing her eyes. The figures on the screen in front of her had started to blur and she needed a break. She looked around the empty Hub and let out a melodramatic sigh. Once again she was there, alone, working away. Good old Tosh, analyzing some random alien artifact while the others went out and well, had a life. Jack had taken Owen to some car park, Weevil hunting. He’d normally have taken Ianto but Toshiko suspected that he wanted to do a bit of team bonding. Gwen was out with Rhys, shopping apparently. Toshiko felt a twinge of jealousy. She liked Gwen, she really did. But she still felt that… it was all just that tiny bit unfair. Toshiko hated the idea of being judgmental but, after all, Gwen had cheated on Rhys with Owen, and yet she still got the happy ending.
‘It’s not like I even have anyone to cheat on,’ she thought to herself, as she found her eyes glancing down at the empty medical bay. She sighed and idly spun around in the chair. “It’s not like he even notices I’m here.”
“Tosh!” She jumped as Ianto Jones suddenly appeared at her shoulder. “You alright, Tosh?” he asked as she looked up at him, composing herself.
“Ah, yes. Thanks,” she muttered. “Were you deliberately trying to give me a heart attack?”
Ianto, as ever, was the picture of innocence. “Not at all, Miss Sato.”
“What can I do for you?”
He held out a package. “Parcel from Gwen.” Ianto pulled a seat over and sat next to her. She tried not to laugh as he spun himself slowly in the chair, pushing ‘round with his feet. Sometimes he could be so childish. “Apparently she’s been called in to investigate a suspicious death,” he said, spinning around. “It was all captured on the CCTV. So she had a DVD burnt off and curried over to you. Weeeeeee.” She giggled as he pushed back on the chair and went sliding back across the floor towards Jack’s office. “I can help if you like?” he called over.
She took the DVD out of its case and inserted it into her work station. “A coffee would be lovely, thanks.”
He leant back, pushing against the far wall and the chair slid back towards her. He steadied himself and put both hands into his jacket pockets. “Even better than that,” he replied pulling out two bottles of lager. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Amused, but slightly concerned that she suddenly felt like his mother. “Oh go on,” he said, opening a bottle and passing it to her. “It is Friday.”
“You’re a bad man, Ianto Jones,” she replied, taking a sip from the lager and turning to look at the screen.
“That’s why they like me, ma’am,” he said, opening his bottle and resting a chin on her shoulder. She resisted the urge to pat his head and instead concentrated on the now loaded up black and white CCTV footage, watching as two men fell into a taxi.
Chapter 6
“We weren’t that drunk. Honest.” Darren Sowisby stared up at Gwen, his eyes red and raw from a night of crying in the cells. ‘Poor kid,’ Gwen found herself thinking as she looked down at the slightly pathetic looking lad in front of her. Twenty two, shorter and skinnier than Owen but without Dr. Harper’s dubious charms. His hair was all over the place and he looked like he’d been in the same jeans and t-shirt for days.
“It’s okay, Darren,” she said. “I’m not saying that you did anything, but I just need…” She broke off, startled as Darren suddenly jumped to his feet.
“They think I did! They think I killed him!” He was pointing at the door that lead out to the rest of the police station.
Gwen reached over and gently put her hand on his shoulder. “No, they’re just trying to find out what happened to Steven. You want to help us find out what happened to him, yeah?” She looked at him and smiled. “All we want to do is find the truth.” Darren sniffed unattractively and slowly sat back down. Gwen sat down opposite and looked at the tape recorder between them. “Tape paused by Gwen Cooper at 14:36,” she said as she switched off the machine. She leant across the table and looked at Darren with a beaming friendly smile. “Now it’s just you and me. Yeah?”
Darren looked at her nervously. He nodded, glancing over at the door.
“It’s okay. They can’t hear you,” said Gwen, catching his eye. “Look at me, Darren.”
He sniffed again and looked down, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I didn’t do it. I swear.”
Gwen nodded. “So what happened? I promise that I’ll take you seriously, no matter what you tell me.”
He shook his head and his face scrunched up, his eyes filling with tears again. “You won’t. They said they’d believe me and they…”
Quickly Gwen reached over and rested a hand on his arm, trying to ignore where he’d just been wiping his sleeve. “I’m not the police, okay? You wouldn’t believe what I deal with on a daily basis. Whatever you tell me, I will take it seriously. Look at me, Darren. You can trust me.” She could see that she was getting through to him, so she gave his arm a comforting squeeze. “Please.”
He cleared his throat. “We… we’d been out drinking. You know, after work, and everyone else had gone, I think. And me and Steve, well, we always get a taxi together because we both live out in Splott. And well, because we’re mates, you know? He was my mate.”
Gwen nodded. “And what happened when you got into the taxi?”
Chapter 7
Toshiko and Ianto watched the taxi drive off the left side of the screen and then reappear on the right as another camera picked up the car’s progress. “It picked them both up outside the Manner Arms pub on Wood Street,” muttered Toshiko.
“So?” said Ianto. “What happened next?”
Both took a sip of lager as they observed the taxi making its way through the black and white streets of Cardiff.
Darren smiled weakly at Gwen. “We were, well. We weren’t really talking or anything because Steve was tired. He used to work dead hard, you know? And he was a real party animal. He was like out, every night. And he had so many mates and…” Darren’s voice went quiet. “I really liked him.”
Again, Gwen squeezed his arm gently. “Tell me, Darren. Did you, you know, fancy him?”
Darren stared at her, his eyes wide. “No! No, it wasn’t like that. I just liked him. He was my mate.”
Gwen looked at the scruffy young man in front of her and guessed that there’d been a bit of hero worship going on. She’d seen Steve’s picture and looking at Darren, she couldn’t exactly see the pair of them being bosom buddies. “And what happened in the taxi? Did you have a fight or anything?”
Darren immediately shook his head. “No, nothing. I told you. We said nothing. We were drunk. I mean, not that drunk that anything could’ve kicked off but-”
“Yeah, got you,” Gwen interrupted him before he could launch into another ‘I’m innocent, me’ speech. “Look Darren, it’s really important that you tell me the truth. I’m here to help you but you have to tell me the truth.”
There was a pause. Darren looked terrified. “What if… Do you think it could’ve been me?”
“What could’ve been you, Darren?”
He looked past her at a blank spot on the wall, staring into space, then quietly he continued. His voice was low and steady. “He shouted at me all right? He said I was stupid. But I’m not. I just liked him and he made me angry.” And suddenly turned back and stared directly into her with cold eyes. “And you know what? He shouted at me and for just a minute I wanted him to die.”
Gwen shivered as she felt Darren’s arm violently twitch under her hand.
“Okay, they’re turning onto St. Mary’s Street.” Toshiko and Ianto continued to watch the taxi’s progress. Ianto’s eyes narrowed as he spotted something.
“Pause it and go back a bit.” Toshiko’s hands flew over the keys and the image froze. “Now zoom in,” continued Ianto, “onto the back seat and play it back at a slower speed.” They both watched as the murky figure on the right of the back seat leaned forward drunkenly, apparently talking to the driver. “I’m guessing they’ve had a few?” said Ianto, as suddenly the figure on the left started to wave his arms about, clearly shouting at the other passenger.
“They’re definitely having some kind of disagreement,” agreed Toshiko.
“Drink’s a dangerous thing, kids,” replied Ianto, sipping his lager.
Gwen felt the room grow cold. “You wanted him to die.”
Darren shrugged. “Not really, I don’t know,” he mumbled.
“Darren, did you do something?” He looked away again and Gwen could see that he was absolutely terrified. “Darren?”
“What if it came true? What if I wanted him to die and that’s why it happened?” He looked at her, tears in his eyes. “What if it happened because of me?” Suddenly he jumped to his feet, feeling very alone in the small interview room. Gwen flinched as he looked down at her and hissed, “What if it was me who killed him?”
Chapter 8
Ianto and Toshiko watched as the taxi continued its journey, winding its way through they grey streets of Cardiff. It had been a few minutes since the two passengers had argued and everything returned to normal. Quiet. Two men, in a taxi, on their way home, except, they knew one of them wouldn’t make it. It was all strangely hypnotic. And then as they watched the inside of the taxi simply switched off. Ianto swore as he dropped his lager in shock.
“What the hell was that?” Toshiko’s eyes were wide with the thrill of something new. “It just went black.” And then the image froze.
“My mind’s just blank.” Darren was shaking his head as he struggled to remember. “I mean, I just thought, well… There’s loads of nights I don’t remember how I got home.”
Gwen smiled. “So you don’t remember anything after the argument?”
“No, it just goes black. I woke up yesterday on my bed still dressed with a bugger of a headache and I just drank a lot of water and went into work. Then they’d told me he’d gone. Steve had disappeared.” He paused. “Then they came and told us that he’d died. We had to sign a card for his mom and dad.” He buried his face in his hands on the desk. “I’m not a bad man, I’m not. I know I wished it for a minute but I didn’t do it. I’m not bad, you’ve got to believe me!”
Gwen could tell he was also trying to convince himself.
Ianto wiped up the last of the spilt lager as Toshiko sent a myriad of programs running, trying to analyze the footage. The image was still frozen, the inside of the taxi still black. “So, whatever it is interfered with the CCTV?” asked Ianto looking up.
“Looks like it,” Toshiko replied. “This is like nothing I’ve seen before.” They watched as the image on the screen flickered and then the inside of the taxi returned to normal. One of the passengers had now gone. Neither the driver nor the other passenger appeared to have noticed as the taxi continued on its journey.
“He just disappeared.”
Toshiko didn’t reply as she rewound the footage and played it again. She would find out what had happened. She felt a guilty flicker of excitement as she started to work on solving this latest puzzle. She was sorry for the dead man, of course, but this was something new. Something different. Something she could focus on. A mystery that only she could solve. After all, she thought, risking a quick glance over at the empty medical station, this was her life.
Chapter 9
“Do you mind?” said Dr. Owen Harper with a scowl. “You’re blocking the light.” He was crouched between two cars, waiting for a struggling Weevil to succumb to the antiseptic. He looked up at the tall, well built man standing over him. The man was good looking, dashing in his big old fashioned coat, standing for all the world as if he owned Municipal Car Park. He was winking at a pretty office girl walking by. He was Captain Jack Harkness.
“Is it the cheekbones, do you think?” asked Jack. “Or the eyes?”
Owen sighed as he finished cuffing the Weevil. “I’m sure it’s the whole package, Jack.” He instantly regretted using the word ‘package’. “Just remind me never to go clubbing with you.” Owen looked over at the office girl and sighed. There’d been a time when he’d dropped everything to chase after her. Bit of patter, tell her she looked great, buy her a drink. Then back to his for night of messy, sweaty, frankly brilliant sex and hope she’d be gone by breakfast. But, he was changing. He didn’t want that anymore, he was bored of just getting drunk and one night stands and it all not really meaning anything. He was growing up, getting old, wanting to settle down. He knew it was only a matter of time before cuddles and suburbia didn’t sound like his idea of hell. And he also knew that he was unlikely to find anyone, when Captain Jack Cheekbones Harkness was in the same room.
“Scared of the competition?” Jack laughed and knelt down. “You got him sedated?”
“Well, he’s not struggling anymore, so yeah, Jack. I guess so.” Jack patted Owen on the shoulder and pulled a hood over the Weevil’s face. Together they hauled it to its feet.
“Right, let’s get him back to the Hub,” announced Jack as they left the deserted car park. They started to walk back through the busy street towards where they parked the SUV, an elderly woman pushing a tartan trolley tutted at them.
“Drunk.” She pointed an accusatory arm at the hooded Weevil slumped between Owen and Jack. “At this time of the day? Should be ashamed.”
“Oh, I’m never ashamed, ma’am. Life’s way too short.” He smirked at the woman as she shook her head and hobbled past them. Owen sighed. For the leader of a top secret organization, Jack could be very public. “Yes, Ianto?” Owen lurched as he suddenly felt the full weight of the Weevil on his shoulder. Jack had stood back, legs apart, coat flapping in the wind and his finger pressed to his ear. There was a pause. “We’ll be right there.” He came back and helped Owen support the Weevil. As they approached the SUV Owen raised a questioning eyebrow. “Apparently there’s been a mysterious death. Gwen’s bringing the suspect in, Tosh has analyzed the CCTV footage, and Ianto’s got the coffee made. And there was me thinking I was in charge.”
“No Jack,” replied Owen, as they dumped the Weevil on the backseat. “That’s just what we like you to think.” He climbed into the SUV, reached over and opened the passenger door. “Well, don’t just stand there looking like a prat.”
Jack shrugged and climbed in. “You driving, then?” Owen nodded and started the engine. “That’s okay,” said Jack, his face breaking into a grin. “I like a man who takes control.”
“Yeah, stop that.”
Chapter 10
Ianto studied the tray of coffees in his hands and entered the board room. The rest of the team was sitting around the table, looking up at the image on screen of Darren Sowisby sitting in one of the cells. “He doesn’t look too bothered,” Ianto pointed out, as he handed out the drinks.
“Perhaps he likes being locked up,” replied Jack with a wink. Ianto fought back the urge to grin like a madman, remembering the other night when the two of them had… explored some new horizons. He finished handing out the drinks and sat down next to Gwen, trying to put all thoughts of handcuffs and safety words out of his mind.
“I’ve done some research on him,” said Gwen. “Turns out that Darren’s a bit of a… geek.”
“Oh, god. Not another Eugene,” interrupted Owen. “Why do we never get the cool kids?”
“He’s just a bit… well, sad really,” continued Gwen. “I mean… You know when people come in here, they usually panic a bit? Freak out. Well, Darren wasn’t like that. He was excited by it all. He’s a bit of a geek, not many friends. And he definitely had a bit of hero worship thing going on for the victim. He’s someone who’s had a pretty sad, lonely life, and being locked up next to a Weevil is probably the most exciting thing that’ll ever happen to him.”
Jack was studying the screen. “You know, if he did something about his hair, I reckon I could show him some excitement. He’s kinda cute."
Ianto kept the slight smile on his face, keeping that certain pang of jealousy hidden.
“Yeah, thanks Jack,” said Owen, who, as usual, looked irritated. “So do we think it was him? I mean, sad, lonely, hero worshiping... whatever. He’s a classic serial killer waiting to happen. Did he do it? Whatever it was.”
“I’ve been running tests on the CCTV footage,” began Toshiko, as she changed the image on the screen. The same few seconds of inside the taxi blanking out repeated over and over, each time different colourful waves and lines were superimposed over the footage.
Chapter 11
“Yeah that’s very pretty, Tosh, but what does it tell us?”
Toshiko looked hurt at Owen’s comment. Ianto felt for her. He’d worked out long ago how she felt about Dr. Harper. But, ever the professional, she continued. “Okay, it’s not Rift activity, that much is certain. The footage shows that Steven Ballard definitely disappeared, but other than that, I wasn’t able to get anything. So, I scanned the area where it happened – the corner of Charles Street and Queens Street, and there’s still a trace of alien energy in the local atmosphere. Lots of gasses and energy particles that I can’t identify. But there was one that… when I cross referenced it with our records…”
She changed the image on the screen again, this time to a spinning three dimensional model or some kind of molecule. Something about it itched at the back of Ianto’s mind but before he could say anything, Owen had dramatically started to bang his head on the desk. “Why, Tosh. Why?” he jokingly wailed. “Just for once, can’t you skip the science bit? We know you’re clever, just tell us what you found out.”
She sighed before answering. “It’s some kind of ancient energy that the scientists at Torchwood One had managed to recreate. Those sparkly, shinny things on the pretty screen?” she paused and gave Owen a patronizing smile, “They’re called-“
"Huon Particles," interrupted Jack, staring at the screen. He looked deadly serious and suddenly Ianto knew where he remembered it from.
"They were working on that stuff when I was there," he said. "It was all very Top Secret, nobody knew what it was for."
Jack stood up and faced the group. "Huon energy's from the dark times. It's very ancient and very bad. And one of its side affects is it transports people. And we're not talking your basic Star Trek transporter. These particles can send you... a long long way away."
"But Steven's body was found in the doorway of W.H. Smith's," said Gwen. "On Queens Street. That's hardly long, yeah?"
"So the question is where did he go in-between Darren sending him away and his skeleton turning up like a free DVD with the morning papers?" asked Jack.
"Darren says that Steven had a go at him," replied Gwen. "He admits that he wished the guy dead. Are we talking some kind of magic, wish granting alien... thing? Perhaps he didn't know what he was doing."
As the others discussed various ways forward, Ianto shut himself off. There was something bothering him, but.... he couldn't think what. He looked up at the screen as Toshiko returned it to the image of Darren in the cell. The boy sitting there, ignored. He looked around the team – Toshiko making eyes at an oblivious Owen, Jack and Gwen arguing about how to question Darren. All of them talking and planning, and ignoring, and…
"You never thanked me for the coffee."
They all turned to him. Jack looked sideways at Gwen and raised an eyebrow. "Okay," he said. "Everyone thank Ianto for the coffee."
Ianto shook his head. "No, I mean, you all ignored me. Because I just give you the coffee. You take it for granted." Gwen gave a sympathetic smile and rested her hand on Ianto's arm. "What I'm trying to say," he told them with a hint of a sigh, "is that we're assuming Darren's responsible because he knew Steven and he was angry with him. But there's someone we're all ignoring. And we're ignoring him because, like a guy who delivers the coffee, he's invisible." They all turned to look at the screen as Ianto changed it back to the CCTV footage. "Owen mentioned serial killers. Well, most serial killers aren't known to the victims. They're invisible."
And there, partially hidden in the gloomy black and white shadows, and minus one passenger, the taxi was continuing its journey.
Chapter 12
Harsh green lasers flashing in her eyes and everyone is screaming. Rob Dougan’s “Furious Angels” pulsating out of the speakers and into the souls of the people dancing. Only they’re not dancing. They should be dancing, but they’re not. They’re standing still. And they’re staring at her, whispering. And Jade Russell, standing in the center of the club, lit by a single spotlight, is remembering what’s brought her here.
Five pm and striding down Queens Street, mobile pressed to her ear, telling Steph all about the new girl in Reception. “Oh, she’s a real cow!” She’s ranting as she’s pushing through some old loved up couple. “And she’s no right to be! Not with those thighs!” Five o’ five and she’s at the top of Queens Street and she’s tapping her foot as she waits. “She faughed about so much she made me late! Yeah I know, now I’ma get a taxi!”
Standing. Surrounded by the whispering clubbers and Jade’s really wishing she hadn’t got into the car.
Five ten and leaning forward, telling the driver to take her to Bar Reunion, then sitting back and continuing with the bitching. “And then the stupid fucker won’t let me go without signing some goodbye card for some guy I’ve never met? I know, some geek who works in Accounting! I mean, Accounting! Are they like, on the fifth floor or something?” Glancing into the mirror and staring at the taxi driver who’s watching her. “You got a problem?” she’s saying before returning to Steph. “So anyway. Tell me about what happened with Heather. Did she really throw up in the video shop? I told you she’s pregnant. She’s definitely pregnant, stupid cow.”
Standing in the spotlight and looking over at Heather and Steph as they look back at her, and they’re whispering.
Twelve minutes past five and she’s giving it all. “So yeah. I’m gonna be there in a few minutes, but you better not be lying, Steph. If Ali’s there, I’m going to leave. I mean it. I’ll turn around and I’ll walk out. The lying cow told everyone I had Chlamydia. Only she should know what that feels like.” Looking up and the taxi driver is still watching her.
Standing alone in the spotlight and listening to the whispering voices, crying and begging for them to stop.
“Yeah, alright. You can stop, yeah?” Five fifteen and she’s getting seriously annoyed with the taxi driver. “And you know it’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations?” And then the taxi driver turning to face her, and his eyes are dark and she’s feeling sick inside as she unconsciously pushes back into the seat. “Are you alright?” The taxi driver nodding. Then he’s reaching into his pocket and he’s taking out a box of matches.
Chapter 13
Standing in the spotlight and staring and begging for them to stop. The whispering voices surrounding her. “Doesn’t she look fat? She so shouldn’t be wearing those jeans.” Looking over at her mum, pleading with her to stop. “Silly little bint used to have nightmares about Ren & Stimpy. Had to come into bed with me and her dad.”
Standing in the spotlight and she’s screaming for them all to stop.
Five twenty and she’s asking the taxi driver what he’s doing. And he’s tilting his head as he looks at her. And then he’s whispering. “Go. To. Hell.”
“She used to pick her nose at school.” “She got drunk and threw up at her Nan’s funeral.” “She gets her clothes from Primark.” “She thinks people like her, but they don’t.” And she’s standing in the spotlight and everyone she has ever met is surrounding her. “Furious Angels” still blasting the floor, green lasers still in her eyes, and she’s remembering what the taxi driver did.
“Ring-a-ring-a-roses.” Five twenty-two, and he’s opening the matchbox. And he’s staring at her, quietly singing. “A pocket full of poses.” And she’s getting scared now, realizing that this so isn’t normal. “A tissue, a tissue.” And she’s got her hand on the door handle, ready to jump. And it’s too late because he’s opened up the matchbox and she’s screaming as-
“What the hell is that?”
Five twenty-three, running down the street, the thing chasing her, screaming for help. But they think she’s just off her face. Running, and trying to get to Bar Reunion, but the thing is catching up and nobody else can see it. And then she sees the club, the Priory. It’s closer, the door’s open, so there’s staff in there. And if she can get inside, she’ll be safe.
Five twenty-five and it’s suddenly dark as she’s running through the doors. Five twenty-six, and the Priory isn’t empty. She doesn’t understand. It’s too early to be open but she’s running onto the dance floor and she’s begging people to help her, and then she’s realizing that she knows them. She knows everyone. And she’s so scared because some of them are dead but there they are. Dancing. The music is hypnotic and euphoric and it’s flowing through everyone she knows. A writhing mass of bodies, bathed in an unholy light. And she’s turning and she’s running back to the door, but the door’s gone. It’s just a wall. And that’s when she starts to scream.
And the others have stopped dancing and they’re turning to her as she’s standing in the spotlight, and she’s pointing to where the door should be. Which is when they all point at her and, as one, chant four words. “We all fall down.”
Fourty three days later, and having eaten all the crisps she can find, Jade Russell’s lying in the middle of the dance floor. She’s curled up, fetal, shivering, unable to speak. But she doesn’t need to speak, anyway. Because everyone she’s ever met is standing there, pointing and whispering.
Chapter 14
Two hundred and twelve days later, and she’s still not dead. She doesn’t understand because she stopped eating. She doesn’t understand anything anymore. The green light’s still flashing, pretty lasers shining in her eyes. And it’s so pretty how it turns all the people into silhouettes. She can’t see their faces anymore. They might be anyone. Jade is happy now though because she can’t hear the whispering anymore, or the music. She can’t hear anything anymore because to stop the “Furious Angels”, she’s torn off her ears. It’s peaceful, really. And the warm blood still trickling down the sides of her face is quite nice. She knows it’ll stop soon. It’ll all stop soon.
Four thousand, three hundred, and six days later and she’s still there, the blood still trickling. Her friends and family still silently whispering. And the lights, they’re still flashing. And she’s waiting. She’ll die soon, though. Won’t she? God willing. “Please? Let me die soon.”
“Okay Darren Sowisby, how are ya?”
Darren looked up at the man standing on the other side of the glass and pulled a face. “Are you the boss?”
“Captain Jack Harkness, and oh yeah. I’m the boss.”
Darren instantly felt a pang of jealousy. Jack was tall, good looking, confident – everything he wasn’t. Yeah, he was another Steve Ballard. “Why am I here?” Again he looked around at the dingy, dank stone walls surrounding him. And again, he did what he always did when he was scared. “It stinks in here.” He started to babble. “And it’s damp, I could catch pneumonia or a cold or something. I told that Gwen woman I didn’t do anything, so… I don’t know why she’s brought me here.”
“Maybe she fancies you,” the man, Jack, replied with a smirk as he pressed a button to the side of the door. The glass panel between them slid to one side.
Darren snorted. “Heh, funny guy.” He was trying to think of something else witty to say when suddenly Jack rushed in, grabbed him at the top of his t-shirt and slammed him up against the stone wall. “Get off me! What are you doing? You can’t do this!” Darren was desperately hoping he wouldn’t wet himself. He tried to turn away as Jack’s face turned into a vicious snarl.
“What happened in that taxi?”
Darren shook his head, desperately. “I don’t know! I passed out.”
“Huon energy. You know what that is?! Do you?”
Again, Darren shook his head. “Some kind of… sole powder?” he squeaked as Jack forced him higher, his feet barely touching the stone floor. “I don’t know, I swear!”
Jack tilted his head to one side and smiled. “Okay, Darren,” he said gently. “Either you tell me what happened or I kill you. It’s quite simple.” Darren started to shake uncontrollably. “We’re Torchwood. We can make you disappear. It’s been a while since I killed someone but it’s not something you forget how to do. What happened?! You find something on E-Bay and work out how to use it? Decide to test it on Steven Ballard?” One of Jack’s hands suddenly let go of his t-shirt and grabbed Darren around the neck. Then he shouted right in his face. “Tell me!”
Darren screamed and felt hot tears starting to roll down his cheeks. “I don’t know, I swear! It wasn’t me.”
Jack shrugged and let him go. Darren fell back and looked up as Jack’s face broke into a big, friendly grin. “No. Ianto didn’t think it was you either. But I had to make sure. Tea or coffee?”
Chapter 15
“Please. Let me die soon,” Skip Jameson wailed as he staggered into the Priory. He headed straight for the bar, poured himself a pint of water and gulped it down. “For the love of god, will the pain ever end?” he muttered, desperately trying not to throw up.
The previous night had been big. Bigger than big, it had been epic. He’d met up with Lee at lunch time for a quick drink, but they’d ended up in Temple and hadn’t made it home until six am. And now he had to open up the club and spend a night serving scabby students. Joy. Still, he figured, remembering what John and Brendan had said. At least he was prettier than Lee.
“You look terrible!”
Skip looked up at Ken, the red faced bouncer. “Yeah, thanks, Ken. Can’t all look as good as you, can we?”
Ken laughed. “Good looks are a curse, Skip. Should count yourself lucky.”
Skip shook his head, trying to wake up. ‘Was that Ken being witty?’ he thought to himself. The world has actually gone mad. He looked up and over at the dance floor as something caught his eye. “Who was cleaning up last night? Somebody’s left a bag or something.”
“Is it a bomb?” Ken called back.
Skip ignored him as he walked over to the- “Oh, hell. What is that? It stinks! Put the main lights on!”
“Lazy ass!” Ken called as he pressed the switch. “Let there be light!”
Skip looked down, saw that it wasn’t an abandoned bag and screamed. Then he threw up over the corpse that lay rotting at his feet.
“Jack, reports coming in of… another body,” said Toshiko. “Well, possibly. A barman at the Priory nightclub has found…” she checked the report again, “something smelly and seriously rank.”
Darren sniggered. He’d been dumped onto a sofa against the back wall of the Hub. He was sitting and staring at the madness around him. He’d seen it all when Gwen had brought him in, but now he had the chance to sit there and take it all in properly. Well, it was all a bit mental.
Go to Part 2
