bigtitch | Someone Came Knocking (1/1) (Reply)

Title: Someone Came Knocking
Author:

bigtitch
Word Count: 4000
Rating: 18
Characters/Pairing: Danny/Becker, Lester, Ryan, Ditzy, OC
Author notes: It's a routine op, but Danny and Becker find that their accommodation is hiding a few secrets they were not prepared for.
Thanks to

fififolle for the super speedy and encouraging beta.
This is for

fredbassett, this was was supposed to be an Xmas ghost story, but I hope it's OK even if it's late.

Some one came knocking
At my wee, small door;
Someone came knocking;
I'm sure-sure-sure;
I listened, I opened,
I looked to left and right,
But nought there was a stirring
In the still dark night;
Only the busy beetle
Tap-tapping in the wall,
Only from the forest
The screech-owl's call,
Only the cricket whistling
While the dewdrops fall,
So I know not who came knocking,
At all, at all, at all.

- Walter de la Mare

Last January

Ellie Downes came through the front door of the house and stared at the empty hall with a mix of resolution and trepidation. Sam Downes followed her in carrying a big tool box in one hand and a broom in the other.

'Mind out!'

Ellie made room for him.

Sam caught her expression.

'What's up?'

'Are we doing the right thing? It's a huge project.'

'It is the right thing. We both want this AirBnB business to take off. This is the first step.' He put his arm around his wife. 'You have this all planned out. I've seen the spreadsheets. We can do this.'

Ellie straightened her shoulders. 'You're right.'

'You know I am.' He handed her the broom. 'C'mon. The job that never gets started takes longest to finish.'

++++

Later that afternoon, Ellie, with a scarf over her head and a couple of smudges of dirt on her face, was removing what seemed like decades of cobwebs from the hall. She raised her broom to sweep them clear from the fan light above the front door. When the flurry of dust had settled, much more light came into the dowdy and dirty hallway.

Something on the doorframe caught her eye and she squinted at it, not sure what she was seeing. She went into the living room where Sam was stripping paint from the windowsill and picked up the smaller of the step ladders. She put them up beside the door and climbed up them and examined the top of the door frame.

'Sam,' she said. 'Come here and see this.'

'What?'

'Sam!' There was an edge to her voice. 'You need to see this.'

Sam came quickly at her tone.

'What's up.'

Ellie climbed down and pointed at the door frame. 'Take a look at that on the top.'

Sam obeyed her. 'What am I looking for?' He peered at the frame and then look down at Ellie. 'Oh!'

'I'm not going mad, am I? They're there. A whole stack of pentagrams.'

Sam nodded, running his fingers along the wood. 'They're carved in.'

'That's creepy.'

Sam came down the steps. 'A bit.'

'Why would anyone do that?'

'Well they said that the old woman who lived here was a bit odd.'

'Odd, they said. Not satanic!'

'Don't worry. They'll sand out. Unless we want to make a feature of them and attract the goth crowd?'

Ellie considered it and then shook her head. 'I'm not changing the colour scheme. The kitchen is going to be 'daffodil breeze' not 'vampire red'.'

Sam grinned. 'I'll add it to the list of things to do.'

'High up the list, please.' Ellie told him. 'They're creeping me out.'

++++

This December

Major Ryan knocked perfunctorily on the doorframe of Lester's office and walked in when he saw that Lester only had a pile of papers in front of him.

'Yes?'

'Just heard from Becker at the Biggin Hill shout. There are no signs of any creature incursion. The anomaly is closed and is inside a rarely used hangar on the edge of the airport,' he hesitated.

'That's all good news, Ryan, but why do I feel there is a 'but' coming along?'

Ryan grinned. 'But, the anomaly is showing no signs of fading. It looks like it could be a long job.'

Lester considered this. 'How many do we need to staff it?'

'Four should do it if it's a monitoring job. Two on, two off.'

'OK. I'll leave that to you to organise. Have a word with Lorraine, I'm sure she can sort some accommodation out. I'm sure Biggin Hill isn't a holiday hub this time of year. Or any time of year.'

Ryan nodded and turned to leave.

'One moment!' Lester called.

Ryan turned.

'Danny's out on this shout, isn't he?'

'Yes,' Ryan said.

'Without trampling over your arrangements, may I suggest he stays there as the civilian supervisor?'

'Sure. Any reason?'

Lester smiled. 'The auditors are coming in tomorrow. I'm sure the whole process will go much more smoothly without Danny's input.'

Ryan laughed. 'Only if the anomaly lasts that long.'

'I'll sacrifice one of the admin assistants to the civil service gods. I'm sure that'll work.'

Lester turned back to his paperwork and Ryan left to chat to Lorraine, who was probably already ahead of him.

++++

Pinhill Cottage stood at the end of a narrow lane that ran down to the edge of Biggin Hill airfield. It looked well maintained, but was, in a village with a high proportion of historic buildings, disappointingly modern.

'Oh,' Danny said as he got out of the car. 'I was expecting something a bit more cottagey'

'It's better than bedding down in the hangar,' Becker told him. 'And less chance of banging your brains out on a beam in the middle of the night.'

'I'm trusting in you to bang my brains out, soldier boy,' Danny leered at Becker.

'Not on a shout,' Becker said.

'Spoilsport.'

Becker opened the back door of the car and pulled out two Sainsbury's bags.

'Here's hoping they've got a microwave.'

Sam Downes opened the front door and stepped out to greet them.

'I've just been putting the heating on and the fresh towels out.' Sam looked at the two ARC members in confusion. 'I thought there were four of you?'

'There are,' Danny said. 'We're taking it in shifts to do the ...' He faltered as he forgot what their cover story was.

'Monitoring,' Becker supplied.

Sam smiled and held out the keys. 'Well, I hope you'll be comfortable. This is our first year of running AirBnB for this place and we weren't expecting much occupancy this close to Christmas.'

'Good luck all round then.' Danny took the keys and he and Becker walked into the house.

++++

Becker handed a beer to Danny as he sat down on the sofa beside him. Danny put his arm around him as they settled down to watch Kirstie and Phil inform two clueless couples that their budget wouldn't buy them their dream home without a certain amount of adjustment to the dream.

Danny cast a less than expert eye over the living room.

'It's not a bad place this. Plenty of original features.'

'Sympathetically restored, as well.'

'They could knock through that wall to the dining room, make a nice open living area.'

Becker shook his head. 'Load bearing wall. I tested it a couple of hours ago.'

'What about an extension at the back then and making it a kitchen diner?'

'With folding doors on to the garden?'

'I think Kirstie would approve.'

There was a loud knocking on the front door that brought both men to their feet.

'That sounds like an emergency,' Danny said.

They both went into the hall and Danny opened the front door after fumbling a little with the unfamiliar latch.

There was nobody there.

'What the?'

Becker stepped outside and looked around. There was no sign of movement.

'Bloody kids!'

Becker shook his head. 'There's no one here.'

'There must be.'

Becker stood and listened, using all his training to spot the slightest hint of anyone there. He shook his head again.

'No, no one.'

'C'mon, Becker. Let's get back in. Your beer's getting warm. They've had their fun.'

Becker hesitated for a few moments, but then joined Danny inside. He gave the empty garden a raking glance before he shut the door, but nothing stirred apart from the wind in the flower bed.

++++

Danny and Becker were in the kitchen doing the washing up the next night, when there was another knocking at the door.

Becker put down the plate he was holding and opened the back door.

'I'll go this way. You open the front door,' he said and slipped quietly into the night.

Danny walked slowly to the front door and opened it as the knocking died away.

There was no one there until Becker arrived.

'Did you see anyone?'

Becker shook his head. 'No.'

'Well, they'd only just stopped banging the knocker before I opened the door.'

Becker frowned. 'It was a knock from a knocker, wasn't it?'

'Yes, definitely. Why?'

Becker checked the front of the door. 'This door doesn't have a knocker.'

Danny took a look as well. 'Shit. It's not local kids, is it?'

'Doesn't look like it.'

'Why do we get the weird shit?'

'Sometimes dinosaurs aren't enough, clearly.'

++++

The next night just before quarter past eight there was knocking at the door again.

'Ignore it,' Becker said.

Danny stood up from the sofa.

'No, let's try something else.'

He walked to the front door with Becker following him. He opened the door. As before all that stood before them was the winter's night.

'Come in,' Danny said to the empty air.

Becker looked at him in surprise and braced himself slightly for what was going to happen.

Nothing did.

All that happened was that the wind blew outside in the same way that it had when they had come back from the anomaly in the hangar. They waited.

'It's getting cold with the door open,' Becker said.

Danny looked disappointed, but he closed the door.

'Worth a shot,' he said.

'You've been watching too much Most Haunted,' Becker told him and walked back to the living room.

++++

Becker woke from a dream of trying to find a crying child to find Ditzy shaking him.

'What time is it?' he asked blearily.

'Just after three. The anomaly closed half an hour ago. I thought you should know.'

'That's good. You and Kermit get some sleep and we'll go back after breakfast. Nice job.'

Ditzy left and Becker snuggled back with Danny and went back to sleep.

++++

It was nearly eight in the evening when Becker got home. Danny met him in the kitchen with a kiss and a cold beer. Becker accepted both gratefully.

'I will never understand how a simple op with no creatures and no shots fired ends up being so complicated to write up.'

'That'd be the expenses claim,' Danny suggested.

Becker blew him a raspberry.

'What's for dinner?'

Danny held up his phone. 'Pad thai, chicken satay, green curry beef, jasmine rice, prawn crackers and fish cakes.' He pressed the button. 'I was just waiting for you to show up before ordering.'

'You know me too well.'

'I do, soldier boy. At least your taste in Thai food.'

'How long before it arrives?'

Danny checked the app. 'Forty to fifty minutes.'

'Time for a blow job then?'

Danny grinned at him. 'Always.'

++++

Danny was lying back on the sofa relishing the view of Becker's dark head bobbing up and down as he enthusiastically sucked Danny's cock. Becker's tongue was doing things to him that spoke of talent backed up with much practice and it was something of which Danny was eternally grateful to be on the receiving end.

There was a loud knocking at the front door.

Becker's head lifted and they both checked the clock on the mantelpiece.

'That's quick!'

Becker knelt back. 'I'll go,' he said, giving Danny's cock a quick lick as he did so. 'Don't move.'

Danny leaned back, closing his eyes and trying to cling on to the mood and his erection. He listened as Becker opened the door and then shut it again. He looked up as Becker came back into the living room, expecting him to being holding a plastic bag full of Thai takeaway.

Becker was empty handed and had a serious expression on his face.

'What's up?'

Becker looked at him gravely. 'There was no one there.'

++++

Becker came down to the kitchen the next morning to find Danny on the phone.

'Thanks mate, I appreciate it.'

Danny disconnected the call and went to the fridge, pausing to kiss Becker in passing.

'Who was that?'

'A mate from my policing days. I don't know if you get it much in the army, but in the police every so often you just hit some weird shit.'

'Define weird shit.'

Danny sat down at the kitchen table and started buttering some toast.

'You know, weird shit. Stuff that you can't explain.'

'Oh, like when I was in Afghanistan and Sergeant Whitchurch yelled in my ear that there was an IED ahead when he'd been dead for three days?'

'Yeah, stuff like that.'

Becker shook his head. 'Nah, don't know anything about that.'

'Funny. Well, weird shit happens. Phantom hitch-hikers, screams from empty rooms. Happens in every force and every force has at least one copper that collects those kinds of stories. I've just been onto one of my mates at the Met to see who does it for the Biggin Hill area.'

++++

The Freelands Tavern was a nice Victorian pub on the corner of a Victorian terrace in Bromley on the border of where the commercial town centre ended and the residential streets began. Danny had checked it on the map while the satnav was plotting their route and decided that it was close enough to be walking distance from Bromley police station, but not so near as to be a regular haunt for the local coppers. Sergeant Hopcroft was happy to meet them, but not so happy that they wanted to be noticed doing so.

Danny checked the customers as he made his way to the bar, seeing if his cop-dar was working, but it was a blonde woman in her late thirties who approached him.

'Danny Quinn?'

Danny nodded and she held out her hand.

'Lily Hopcroft. Mine's a ginger beer and I'm sitting over by the window.'

Danny looked back, caught Becker's eye and pointed for him to follow Hopcroft. Then, burdened with two pint glasses and a ginger beer he joined them.

'So you want to know about ghosts in Biggin Hill?'

'If there are any,' Danny said.

'Biggin Hill has a couple of ghosts. There's a phantom spitfire that flies around, more heard than seen. And occasionally men in RAF great coats will stop people and ask for directions before disappearing.'

'That's it?'

'Pretty much,' Hopcroft smiled and took a sip of her drink.

'OK,' Danny said, 'what else have you found?'

'There's no weird stuff associated with Pinhill Cottage that I know about, but there is a real case. A misper.'

'Missing person,' Danny supplied to Becker's quizzical look.

'A Ruby Copeland. Her family reported her missing in March 1941. She and her baby son. Her husband, one Alfie Copeland, said that she'd run off with another man the Christmas before and taken the child with her. She was never found.'

'Got the file?'

Hopcroft fished out a plastic folder from her bag and handed it over. 'There you go, fell into a photocopier by accident.'

Danny opened it. There were two sheets. 'That's it?'

'What did you expect? There was a war on. Half of Croydon moved out to the countryside practically every night in the Blitz. Records got destroyed and people just disappeared. And some of them didn't want to be found.'

'So they just took her husband's word for it?'

'If you read it, they never questioned him. He was in North Africa with the Royal Artillery at the time. And he didn't make it back.' She sipped some of her drink. 'The only niggle in the story is the statement from the woman who ran the post office. She said that Ruby was barely seen in the village. She didn't know how she managed to meet another man.'

'And they didn't follow that up?'

'Like I said, there was a war on.'

Danny took a drink to hide his disappointment. 'Thanks for pulling this.'

'You're welcome.' Hopcroft stood up. 'Is it true you guys fight dinosaurs?'

Danny grinned. 'Only on the good days.'

++++

'So what do we do now?' Becker asked as they joined the M25. 'It doesn't look like Sergeant Hopcroft had the answers we need.'

'What? Like how to get rid of a ghostly door knocker?'

'And dreams of a crying child. Or am I the only one who's having those?'

'Shit! I thought that was just me!'

'Nope. This is beyond a joke, now.'

'Well, let's take this cold case and see what we can do with it.'

'Like what? I know we think there was foul play because of a ghost, but what's going to be out there that the police at the time didn't have?'

'The internet for one. And the idea that there might be a murder here rather than a woman walking out on her husband. The police who investigated Ruby's disappearance didn't do anything but the bare minimum. There might be something on genealogy sites that can provide proof of life for her.'

'I'll check up on her husband, see what happened in North Africa and whether he was killed there.'

'How are going to do that?'

'Ask a mate at the British Army Museum, see if he can help. Why don't you ask Connor to see if he can help. Anyone who's into conspiracy theories like he is has got to be good at rooting out obscure bits of information.'

'Good thought. I like delegation!'

++++

'So Monsieur Poirot, what have you deduced?' Sergeant Lily Hopcroft was half-mocking, half-humorous.

Danny grinned at her and put a slim folder of papers on the pub table between the beer glasses. He pulled out a sheet of paper and pushed it towards Lily.

'The marriage certificate of Alfred Copeland and Ruby Selby. June 1938.'

'A June bride.'

'That would be the only fairytale thing about it, I reckon. Note the ages. She was nineteen. He was thirty-two.'

'Bit of an age gap.'

'Also note she is down as a spinster. Not the young widow the village thought she was.'

'What about her child, then?' Lily asked.

'Glad you asked.' Danny pulled out another piece of paper from the pile. 'Birth certificate for George Selby. Spot the missing information.'

Lily read it. 'There's no father listed.'

'Look at the date of birth.'

'Do you want to do the maths for me?'

'Ruby would have been eighteen when George was born, seventeen when she fell pregnant.'

'Not good at that time.'

'She would have been grateful to find someone to take her in and be a father to her child.'

'Minor detail,' Becker joined in, 'we couldn't find any record of Copeland trying to adopt George as his own.'

Danny took a drink from his pint. 'Older man marries a much younger woman, you said when we first met that she was hardly known in the village. Sounds like he was controlling at the very least.'

'That's speculation,' Lily said.

'I've got a bit of evidence for that,' Becker said. 'He gets his call-up papers in the first week of December 1940 to join up on third of January 1941. The crucial bit is his regimental record. He makes no mention of being married. He lists his next of kin as his sister.'

'Seriously?' Lily leant forward.

Becker pushed the papers towards her. 'Seriously,' he said. 'Admittedly he had said Ruby had left him, but it's a big jump from wife leaving to denying he was married in the first place.'

'Why would he do that,' Danny joined in. 'Unless he knew she wasn't coming back?'

'Shit!'

'You know what this looks like, don't you sergeant?'

Lily looked grim. 'Family annihilation.'

'What's that?'

'Where a family member, usually the father, kills the other members of their family and then frequently themselves,' Lily supplied.

Danny was equally grim-faced. 'Here you have a man with a much younger wife, he's isolated her, he's controlling her and then something happens. He gets called up. And then he can no longer control her.'

Becker took up the tale. 'Somewhere between that first week in December and when he starts spreading the tale that's she run off with another man, he kills her and the child. And when he joins the army it's like she never existed to him.'

Lily nodded slowly. 'It'd certainly be a main line of enquiry.' She paused. 'Did he die at Tobruk?'

Becker nodded. 'Yes. Direct hit on his gun emplacement. With all the ammo around I suspect he and his mates ended up spread out over quite a wide area.' He took a drink. 'What do we do now?'

Lily shrugged. 'I take this to SCIT and see what they say.'

Becker looked at Danny. 'Cold case unit for the Met,' Danny supplied.

Lily picked up the folder and started putting the papers away. 'So much for a nice, little ghost story to add to the database. Thanks for this, guys.'

'Anytime,' Danny said.

++++

Danny found Becker in the armoury, checking a list of inventory off on a clipboard.

'I just heard back from Sergeant Hopcroft.'

Becker put the clipboard. 'What did she say?'

'The cold case bunch aren't taking it. Apparently they've got enough on their plate with actual crimes as opposed to a missing person's case that isn't technically a crime.'

'And I suppose, 'but they're being haunted by the victim' doesn't count as evidence that a crime has been committed?'

'Not to the Met, no.'

'So what do we do?'

'Let's go back to the scene of crime, see what it can tell us.'

'After all this time?'

'Got any better ideas?'

++++

Ellie Downes watched Danny curiously as he walked around the garden of Pinhill Cottage.

'What is he looking for?'

'Something that might tell us what happened to Ruby Copeland,' Becker said.

'You mean a body?'

'Or what's left of one,' Danny told her as he walked up.

'Why are you so sure there's one here?'

'Because Alfie Copeland was a controlling man. He'd want her under his eye even if she was dead.' Danny put his hands on his hips and surveyed the large garden. 'There's no old septic tank or anything like that around, is there?'

'Like a patio? No. Unless you count the base of the old air raid shelter. It's in the corner behind the shed.'

They walked over to it and looked at the slightly crumbling concrete rectangle.

'Doesn't look very well done,' Becker said. 'Very amateurish even with wartime shortages.'

They looked at each other.

'It's going to take some digging,' Danny said.

++++

In the end, it took a pickaxe and several hours even with Sam Downes joining in to help. Eventually it cracked enough in the middle for Danny to be able to lever up a section and check what was underneath.

He bowed his head at what he saw. 'Sometimes I hate being right,' he said. 'We'd best get hold of Hopcroft. I think we've found Ruby. Or at least her leg.'

++++

Danny and Becker hung around in the cottage as the scene of crime officers took over the garden. The inevitable white marquee tent was erected over the corner of the garden. People in noddy-suits wandered around. It looked a little chaotic, but Danny knew better. Even though there was never going to be prosecution coming out of this, it was all being conducted as though it had to stand up in court.

Ellie and Sam were keeping up a constant supply of tea and coffee.

Eventually the crime scene manager showed up in search of something wet and warm.

Danny beckoned her over. 'Do me a favour,' he said. 'Keep the bodies on the same mortuary slab if you can.'

'Any reason?'

'Ruby has been trying to get back to her baby for a long time now. Let's keep them together.'

The manager gave him a strange look as she replaced her face mask, but nodded.

++++

Danny and Becker sat close together on the couch. They were allegedly watching the television, but in reality the clock was getting much more attention than the game show.

The hour hand had reached eight. The minute hand moved slowly but inevitably down from two to three. When it reached four, both men relaxed.

'I think we did it,' Danny said. 'She doesn't have to knock any more.'

Becker held up his glass. 'To Ruby and George. Justice at last.'

The End

Danny clinked his glass against Becker's. 'Amen.'

The End