What Breaks A Detective.

Chapter 3

Quinne came into the ward four hours later. Smart, now with his head in a newspaper, glared at him.

"Stop it" the older brother ordered instantly. Smart didn't stop it.

"It's for your own good, you know" Quinne argued, putting a briefcase down on the floor and sitting on the end of his little brother's bed. Smart continued to scowl.

"Don't give me that face, Toby Smart" Quinne sighed. "There's nothing you can do about it. You're officially on holiday."

"Quinne, I haven't taken a holiday for five years" Smart complained gruffly. "Which..."

"Which means now is an excellent time to take a very long one" his brother butted in firmly. "There's no getting out of it, Toby. You're off duty for at least the next month."

"Quinne!" Smart complained, rather loudly. "You can't be serious! I'm not even unwell..."

"Toby!" Quinne cut his brother off again. "Don't make this any more difficult for me than it already is. Mother's already going to be furious with me for allowing you to nearly work yourself to death..."

"Quinne..."

"Shut up, Toby!" Quinne barked suddenly. "Don't argue with me. You need time away from London. At least a month. Barnes agrees. As does Fisher. As does Carmen."

At the mention of Carmen's name, Smart stopped fighting. Despite everything, he'd always believed that that ex-Detective Inspector knew and understood more than he ever would, and if Carmen had said he needed to rest, as much as it killed him he probably needed to rest.

"If Carmen says so" he muttered pallidly, lying back on the pillows.

"He insists so" Quinne corrected, just to make sure.

"I get the picture" Smart replied bluntly. "Where are you sending me?"

"Home" Quinne said simply. "There's a cart waiting. And no funny business, mind."

"If Carmen says I need rest, I need it" Smart told him finally.

Quinne seemed to breathe out a little.

"Nice to know you agree with me for once. It's a momentous occasion" he smirked.

"Quit the chitchat and get me out of here" Smart grumbled, rolling his eyes and returning to his original disapproving glare. Quinne smirked wider.

"Alright. Don't be so impatient."

"Don't tell me what to do" Smart retorted sourly. "You're not my mother."

"No, I'm your older brother, and I have every right to tell you what to do" Quinne said smugly. "Come on."

If only looks could kill, Smart thought irritably, as he clambered out of bed. He'd have Quinne six feet under twice by now if they could. Instead, he made do with following his brother as he made his way to the exit, picking up both of their coats on the way, and once he had been signed out they finally got into the open air.

The two of them crossed the busy street, and Quinne opened the door to a hansom standing by. Smart waited a second before climbing in.

"Quinne, do you think Allie is alive?" he asked his brother. "Really?"

Tarquin Smart sighed heavily.

"I didn't know Miss Winter for very long" he told his younger sibling firmly. "But I knew her long enough to see she was a very capable young lady."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Smart asked again, keenly.

"I think it's highly unlikely that she would have walked onto that bridge without some sort of plan" Quinne admitted, carrying on quickly before his brother could butt in. "But I also know that she would have had to have been at the end of her tether in order to plan something so desperate as faked suicide. If she did fake it, then she obviously doesn't want to be found."

"But what if she needs to be found?" Smart persisted.

His brother smiled dryly.

"Then I'm sure you'll get there soon enough. Enjoy your holiday, Toby. And remember it's called a holiday for a reason, alright?"

Smart smirked a little, clambering up into the hansom. Somehow, he felt content now, to perhaps take a little break. Not a big long holiday, but just a little break.

The hansom cab rattled off placidly, and Smart relaxed in the cushions. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

He must have fallen asleep instantly, as the next thing Smart knew, the cab driver was hammering on his roof.

"Sorry" he apologised gruffly, climbing out and searching in his pockets for something to pay the driver with. The driver himself shook his head.

"I was paid at the other end, guv" he told Smart, who smiled faintly at the news. Typical Tarquin.

"Have a tip, man" he offfered anyway, flipping a half crown up to the driver, who grabbed it, beaming all over his bearded face.

"You're too kind, guv."

"Aren't I?" Smart murmured dryly, as he turned his back and began his walk up to the bakery. It didn't take long, and he decided to let himself in via the bakery.

"Mother?" he called, as he entered

His mother was standing at the till. She smiled faintly at him, before coming out to give him a gentle hug.

"Tarquin told me you'd be coming" she said, as he bent down to hug her back.

"He didn't exactly tell me" he muttered back dryly. "I got put in a hansom."

His mother laughed.

"Do you want to make something?" she offered.

"Maybe later" Toby sighed, slipping away and back into the main body of the house. Alone, he wandered into the living room, and, reminiscently, looked at the pictures on the mantelpiece. The one of him, Tarquin and Bridget stood proudly in the centre, and Smart smiled, a little sadly, as he looked at it.

But the other one he looked at was the Christmas caroling one, with him and Quinne, all the other village children, and Rosie, hanging onto his arm. She looked very young in that particular picture, and she was wearing the little red cloak she'd worn when he first met her. The faces were a little blurred, but Smart knew who everyone was.

He still couldn't believe that Rosie-his little Rosie-was Allie's sister.

He would have settled himself with a cup of coffee if he hadn't wanted to be away from that picture. Resigning himself to make a loaf of bread or something, Smart came back to the bakery.

He was gathering his ingredients when his mother called from the counter.

"Could you do me a favor, Toby?"

"Yeah?" Smart agreed, dumping all of the things he was carrying in an instant.

"That red berry syrup we had from Halloween" his mother yelled. "Bring it out!"

Smart hurried over to the right cupboard, and opened it, rifling through the shelves.

The syrup wasn't there.

"Mother, you've thrown it out!" Smart shouted back, head in the cupboard.

"No I haven't!" his mother shouted back indignantly.

"Well, it's not..." Smart began to argue, but then the words caught in his throat. His mother popped her head in from the shop.

"I know perfectly well I did not..." she began, but she stopped when she saw her son's face. It was a mixture of realisation, hope, amazement and sheer terror.

"Then who took it?" Toby Smart breathed, the atmosphere in the room ramping up to electric.

"Or more correctly" the Detective Inspector who was supposed to be on holiday added.
"Alianna Winter took it."