Rob Ridgway's "Rat Pack"

[JayR2003]

I...can't...take...it...anymore. UNCLE!!!

I almost am to the point I banish myself from here for a week so I don't have to deal with these cliffhangers over a 24 hour period. I can just sit down and read for 7 straight posts. Well done.

[WelshWolf]

I knew. I just knew it. What did I say? Dump Patty and get With Fulton...

Well, I hate to be right. Seriously, what the feck is she thinking. If she didnt want to be with Rob then she should have left, its not like she was in it for the money, or the fame, both of which she has plenty of.

Kill Her. Or at least ruin her face so that she can't model... either or...

Poor Rob.

... well written as usual. I just dont know how you do it.

[Manxie_Ash]

Just, wow! This is just as incredible as when I first started reading it

[gavrenwick]

You don't actually know that Patty is cheating, and while it is perfectly liable and probable, some people take delight from sorting matters by themselves. Maybe Patty is one of those people.

[Balthazars]

You don't actually know that Patty is cheating, and while it is perfectly liable and probable, some people take delight from sorting matters by themselves. Maybe Patty is one of those people.

Absolutely agreed. As some others have pointed out, there has been a release of certain people tied to bad things that happened to Patty and Rob previously. The idea that Patty is using Hardcastle to exact some kind of retribution herself is still a valid possibility.

Excellent writing 10-3, this segment is a notch above.

[tenthreeleader]

Wow. Thanks to everyone for the posts and for your thoughts. I do think yesterday was the most widely read single post I've yet made and certainly the most commented. Certainly it was a difficult post to write, as attached as I have become to both of my main characters. For Rob, though, all I can think of are the words of Robert Frost: 'miles to go before I sleep.'

___

Sunday, October 11

Last night was misery, pure and simple.

I arrived back at Heathrow at 1:00 in the morning and as a result the drive back to Reading was a bit of a red-eye. This time there was no team coach to ride back from London so I was on my own at the worst possible time.

I had plenty of time to think. The drive was a red-eye for more than one reason. Tiredness was part of it but so were tears.

Want to see you, Princess…

Come to my agency after Rob leaves…

I said the lines over and over again as I drove.

It all meant that as I was driving home, she was seeing him. My worst fears could be counted as confirmed. Did she not think I would figure it out?

Or rather, did she think she was smarter than Fulton?

‘So, Patty,’ I thought, ‘did you let him have my side of the bed? I hope the baby didn’t get in the way…’

My agony cut deep. This was the basest kind of betrayal – the kind that comes after you find out someone has been doing what they swear up and down they haven’t been doing.

I couldn’t believe it. After all the denials, all she had said to the contrary, and all her claims, it was true.

It was all true.

He was with her and I was a thousand miles away with work to do the next day.

I couldn’t even go home and get drunk. I had to guide staff in the start of preparations for Liverpool next weekend. Even though the next day was Sunday, there was just no way I could go on another bender, even as much as I wanted to.

It was just misery. But, I repeat myself.

I thought about going back home and finding her things there, and trying to sleep in that bed that was supposed to hold both of us.

And she is pregnant with my child, too. At least I think it’s my child.

How could she?

The trip home from Heathrow is a straight shot west on the M4 for about twelve miles until you reach the A404, which I would then take north for a few miles until it crossed the A4, known as the Bath Road, heading west to my home in Knowl Hill.

It took about five miles of angst-filled driving to realize that I wasn’t going to take the A404.

Now growing angrier by the moment, I simply continued west on the A4 all the way to the A33, directly south of Reading.

A turn to the north indicated where I would spend the night.

I pulled into the car park at the Madejski Stadium.

At 2:13 a.m. I was, not surprisingly, the only one there.

Entering the stadium via the staff entrance, I made the long walk down the lower hallway to the home changing room and the manager’s office. The place was still, completely quiet.

I knew the way to the manager’s office by heart, even in the dark. Producing a swipe key, I entered my home away from ‘home’ and looked around after flipping on the light.

The sudden explosion of light in the room made me squint even though I knew the sensation was coming. When my eyes adjusted, I considered the options open to me.

I carried my travel bag in my right hand. My luggage was still in the boot of my car.

The option I chose was ‘display of temper’.

I hurled my travel bag full force against the far wall. Somehow, it didn’t open, falling with a loud thud on the floor.

Chest heaving with sadness and anger, I took deep breaths that came in gulps of air. My throat was tight and felt constricted.

While I was wondering how much I could get away with throwing around my office without destroying it, I looked to the far wall.

There, the couch opposite my desk beckoned.

Reaching into the closet on the left hand wall for a blanket, I lay down on its cold leather surface.

The heat of my body fought against the roughness of the blanket and the stiffness of the couch cushions. I didn’t seem to be feeling any warmer. My heart being encased in ice might have had something to do with it.

Between tears and bouts of furious, white-knuckle anger, the sleep I craved would not come.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

That lasted two hours. I figured the lovebirds wouldn’t mind a call.

So at 4:11 a.m., I did just that. I just rang ‘em right up.

I didn’t expect an answer. And I didn’t get one. But I got to leave a message.

“So, how’d the visit with Stephen go?” I asked. “Call whenever you get this, and I don’t care what time it is. I’d love to hear you explain your way out of this one, Princess.”

# # #

Patty rolled from one side to the other in the hotel room bed. She was tossing and turning. It felt odd to sleep this way.

She looked across to the other side of the bed.

Rolling to her back, she thought back on the events of the afternoon.

The darkness seemed to be swirling. “He never would have understood,” she whispered quietly, a tear racing down her cheek. “Rob would never have understood.”

The day had seemed to pass slowly and in a stinted fashion. That wasn’t surprising.

Her phone rested by her side of the bed, the message light still flashing. She had deliberately not picked up. She wasn’t ready to talk.

The day had started oddly, of course. Patty had noticed her husband’s mood and tried her best to stay away from him even as he said he wanted time with her.

His mood was dangerous. She had never seen him like this and it was starting to tell on her own emotions.

It was only a matter of time until he left, though.

When he did, she made a beeline for her studio. She knew he would be waiting for her there, and he didn’t disappoint. She didn’t even have to tell him where it was.

He was a private investigator. She knew he would figure it out.

# # #

It being a weekend, there was no one else present.

The small villa was filled with equipment. Pictures sat stacked just so on three desks that ran along the far wall. On the opposite side of the room, a large bay window overlooked the sea.

There was a separate desk for each shoot that week, with the likelihood of a sea breeze scattering their work all over Monaco minimized by the room’s layout.

It all seemed simple enough.

Those pictures Patty had approved sat in a few neat piles on each desk, along with some photographic equipment and a few computers used in the digital color adjustment process.

While the main finishing work would be done with much more sophisticated equipment, a simple program like Adobe Lightroom would be enough to help everyone see which pictures had the most potential for publication.

It was really hard to go wrong. The pictures all looked good and, since they were shot in the raw image format, an intelligent and talented photo processor could make them look just about any way he or she wanted in the final analysis.

A large printer stood in one corner, capable of spitting out high-quality prints of the winning portraits. That printer had been quite busy on Friday.

She unlocked the door and led him inside.

Hardcastle looked around.

“So, this is where the action is,” he said, with a smile on his face as big as all outdoors.

“You could say that,” she replied, crossing to the window overlooking the ocean, her back turned to him.

“It’s good to see you, Princess,” he said, moving to the north side of the room. There sat a fourth desk there, where the office manager had a laptop computer and some other files stored for temporary use.

“Nice to see you too, Steven,” she said.

She turned to see that Hardcastle had cleared a space on the desk large enough to hold two people. He looked at her and opened his arms.

# # #

[dechardonay]

She's not having an affair. Thor is totally, totally copacabana-dancing boa-flicking GAY.

[WLKRAS]

This is agonizingly good

[stoehrst]

10-3 is setting us up. I don't think she's having an affair - though I wouldn't be at all surprised if I'm wrong - I think she's using Hardcastle to get at The Supporters, or at the very least McGuire. She's using his feelings for her.

On the other hand, that might mean getting her own hands a bit dirty, which would involve cheating on Rob, which would still make her as reprehensible and vile. Either way I think things won't be quite so clear-cut.

[Gricehead]

I think she's going to top him (Hardcastle)

[Panpardus]

I'm not really sure whats going to happen, having read the other story with Rob and Patty in it, I'm not sure if there is an affair, but then maybe I am remembering parts of the other story wrong.

Still a great arc, hopefully if it does turn pair shaped for Rob, he doesn't go back to her or if he does he atleast gets some play time of his own

[tenthreeleader]

Thanks again to all for the comments, and full marks to Pan for remembering the existence of "Legend In My Mind." All I will say to that is that while the storyline of that work deals with the future, it also deals with what is real and what is not.

___

Patty flipped over from her left side to her right, again. It didn’t seem to matter. She couldn’t get comfortable.

“I wish I could have told you, Rob,” she whispered.

She looked to her left, where the red message light on her phone was still blinking.

It wasn’t time to return the call. Not yet.

“What did he say?” she whispered again. The blackness of the room swallowed up the sound of her voice.

She rolled back to her left side, and went to sleep.

# # #

Monday, October 12

“There’s no doubt that this is the match of our season so far.”

Completely without conviction, I faced the press at the training ground. It was the start of Liverpool Week, a very important time for the club.

I always like to keep one change of clothes in my office, in case disaster, my wife’s adultery or some other such problem confronts me while doing my job. As such, I hadn’t had to return home yet and I counted myself fortunate.

I was also lucky no one knew I had spent the last two nights on the couch in my stadium office. With the changing room off limits and locked up since the players had a day off, no one had been inside – not even the cleaning staff.

So I was alone and could both concentrate on something other than Patty. I immersion in my job might help save my sanity.

Yesterday was spent watching video of Liverpool. It was more fun than talking about England, which breezed to a 5-0 victory away to Estonia in preparation for Wednesday’s showdown against Denmark for the top spot in Group 2. The winner of that match automatically qualifies for the World Cup.

It was also more fun than talking about Scotland, which fell 1-0 to Paolo Ferreira’s Portugal away on Saturday in a battle for top spot in Group 5. The Tartan Army will now almost surely go into the second-place qualifying draw. They have had a terrific qualification campaign and a result away to third-place Poland on Wednesday will sew up the playoffs for them.

Without hearing from Patty for the entire day yesterday, and being entirely unwilling to call her a second time, I had to put on the acting job of my life to convince the press there wasn’t something drastically wrong.

Of course, there was, and since Liverpool was the visitor, my Italian friend was back in the press pool.

My threats to the contrary notwithstanding, Emiliani was there and I had to be on my guard throughout. That took emotional energy I did not possess.

He sat in the back of the room, avoiding both me and Weatherby. It’s not like journalists to avoid each other, as they tend to travel, hunt and feed in packs.

He had his pen and pad out though, with a voice recorder carefully balanced on the back of the empty chair in front of him. In short, he probably thought he was doing the journalist’s work.

Our match is the marquee tie of the round. Naturally, everyone wanted to know how the two international matches will affect us not only at this weekend but also next midweek when the Catalans come calling.

“In a way we are fortunate that some of our key people aren’t full internationals, or aren’t getting some of the playing time you would think they might,” I said. “I think we’re going to be fine for Liverpool, and we’ll be putting a good side out to face Barcelona as well.”

My face was expressionless. I was waiting for the opportunity to show a little passion at the right time, but for now I was doing the very best I could to treat this event as just another day.

I also needed to go home. I was out of fresh clothes and I really didn’t have much choice. I couldn’t live in my office forever and I couldn’t run and hide from the problem I had to face.

I answered the usual aggregation of banality from the press regarding Rafa Benitez, his lineup of players bent on our destruction, and their mission to get back into the Champions League. Weren’t we really afraid of them, after all?

“It’s a matchup of second versus third,” I said. “They hold the higher place, they’ve got 23 points, we’ve got 22, but we’re one of two teams in England that has yet to lose. We think we’re in pretty good shape despite not hitting on all our cylinders for some time now. We know they’re good but we aren’t going to roll over and die for them, if that’s what you mean.”

Emiliani sat at the back of the room. He made a note on his pad.

“Something’s wrong with RR,” he said.

At the front of the room, Weatherby made a note on her pad.

“Something wrong with Rob,” she wrote.

The news conference ended, and I headed back to my office to get ready for morning training and my inevitable return home after lunch.

I reached my office and saw my phone message light flashing. That wasn’t surprising. Yet I silently wondered if one of the messages my phone said it contained was from Patty.

I took a deep breath, activated my voice mail and typed in her name as my password.

“Rob, it’s Alba Fulton,” I heard. “Just wanted you to know that I’m off the case for the time being as I mentioned to you on the plane. I’m in the office, on my personal mobile phone and I’d like the chance to talk with you if that’s all right. Not police business. Please call me after 5 pm if you would like. Best wishes for your day.”

I stood there, dumbfounded, and replayed the message to make sure I had heard what I thought I had heard.

Oddly enough, her words didn’t change. She wanted to talk.

Sighing to myself, I checked the rest of my messages, including a loan request from Rotherham for our reserve striker Simon Church, and prepared to take training. There was no way I was going to be able to concentrate after a message like that.

# # #

[Motherlover]

I haven't checked in for a while, but appear to have returned to a real rub of the green! I'm genuinely impressed 10-3; in the last two months your already well-developed characters have blossomed and your plot is still keeping me on my toes.

You're clearly further improving as a writer right in front our eyes and it's a wonderful thing to see.

What else can I say but Keep Up The Good Work

EDIT:

PS - Rob really infuriates me sometimes. I keep getting the sense that at some basic level he just wants everything in his life to be simple - Good & Bad, Black & White - so he ends up hitting out when things don't turn out like that. Which is odd, because otherwise he's clearly an intelligent, considerate guy.

Life is complicated. People are complex. Grow-up man!

[tenthreeleader]

It's always great to hear from you, TV! Thank you for posting and for your thoughts.

With regard to your comment on RR, as much as I'd like to, I can't make my characters perfect. One of Rob's foibles is that he does prefer to be around people who react to situations in the manner he does. He wants to be able to concentrate on his life and he's growing quite tired of the baggage that surrounds him -- a portion of which his personality is responsible for generating.

Your comments about my skill are also appreciated. I do learn from other writers and I am not ashamed to say it. There are writers here who influence me a great deal and that's a good thing.

___

Our training session was pretty good, all things considered. We put out what was a mostly English first unit, since that’s the only nation represented on my senior squad that doesn’t have a full international player at the present time.

The exceptions were Federici in goal and having to dip deep into the reserves to find center-halves. Otherwise I could still call on Golbourne, Halls, Oster, Osbourne, Harper and Kitson among others – and even Baptista, who was not called up to A Seleçao like his teammate Dagoberto.

Some of these guys may even make the eighteen for Liverpool this weekend, so it wasn’t a completely unproductive day.

The players need work, of course, and some first-team time is good for morale. Still, with so many players gone most of the training was lighthearted and even a little fun.

Forbidden from taking part by the owner, I stood on a raised platform to watch the proceedings. I was a bit bored.

I was also elsewhere mentally. I wondered why Patty hadn’t called.

I wondered why Fulton had.

I thought I knew the answers to both my questions, but there was only one way to find out in each case.

# # #

At 5:11, I called Alba.

“And what can I do for you, Inspector?” I asked.

“I just wanted to make sure the air was clear between us,” she said. “After I disclosed what happened on the plane I felt it best that I take myself off the case and you know that.”

I nodded my head, which was probably not the best way to communicate over the telephone.

Sitting back in my chair in my living room, I closed my eyes for a moment. I could see her face.

“So why did you want to talk with me?”

“I think it’s important that you have someone to talk to, Rob,” she said. “That is, if you will permit my use of your Christian name.”

“That would be fine,” I said.

“Then it had better be Alba for me,” she said.

“Also fine,” I replied.

“I was going to suggest that you seek a counselor. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone. I have come to respect you a great deal since we met, Rob. You are in a pressure-filled situation and you have handled everything that has been thrown at you with admirable skill.”

“I appreciate that,” I replied. I was starting to feel numb again and I knew that inside, I hardly deserved her flattery.

“Well, right now I am trying to process what is happening to me,” I admitted. “It hasn’t been easy.”

“Have you had contact with your wife?” she asked.

“I called her, but she hasn’t called back,” I replied. The haze of depression was starting to lower itself over my mind again, like a grey curtain.

“When did you call, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Saturday night.”

“Oh, dear,” she replied. “Rob, I’m sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am,” I answered. “I spent the last two nights in my office. Now I’m home looking at all our things and wondering what I am going to do.”

“That’s why you should get help,” she said, an air of patience in her voice. “If I can help you, will you please let me know?”

“Alba, I hardly think that’s appropriate…” I began.

“…not as a police officer, but as a concerned friend,” she said. “I’ve seen people badly hurt by situations not nearly as complex as yours. It’s important that you do the right thing for your emotional health. I can hardly imagine that you feel good about yourself at the moment.”

“You’d be right,” I mused.

“Then do it, Rob,” she said. “Do it for yourself."

Then she repeated herself.

"If there’s anything I can do to assist you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

# # #

[Balthazars]

So Alba 'makes her move', so to speak. I'm still waiting for your curve-ball by having Emiliani knock on RR's door and declare his love for him and how he can't see him suffer like this. Then, RR will admit that he is hot for Emiliani and they will get it on.

Mostly because I would find that hilarious, and a nice break from all of this tension!

[stoehrst]

Stay true to Rob's zero-sum outlook on life. Kill Patty, kill Hardcastle, frame the Supporters and McGuire and then start a torrid tryst of lust with Fulton.

[tenthreeleader]

Balty, what is it with all the man-love on this thread?

And stoehrst, the zero-sum game is starting to look pretty good to RR at the moment!

___

Tuesday, October 13

“I can’t stand it any more.”

Calling Patty was something I needed to do. So I did it again this morning.

And again, she didn’t answer.

I called at mid-morning, meaning that if she was on a shoot she couldn’t answer the phone. I had to take that into consideration, but this time the message I left her was a little different.

“Patty, please call me when you can. We need to talk. Bye.”

I can’t recall making a more emotionless statement to her in all the time I’ve known her. It hurt, but at the same time I felt a little better when I hung up the phone.

I felt like I was in control again, and that certainly didn’t hurt.

Part of that was due to talking with Alba. Talking with a beautiful woman who actually wanted to talk with me was certainly a morale booster.

She had held my hand on the plane. She wanted to talk with me, and she seems like a friendly sort.

And then there’s that dream.

I relived it for a few moments before reminding myself that I am a married man.

As I returned my attention to the crisis at hand, my mind was consumed by memories.

Most of them were pleasant, and part of me wondered if it was possible to talk her out of the course of action she had taken.

The longer I thought about it, the less reasonable that idea seemed.

The resulting spin into the black hole of my depression was surprisingly fast. Failure, on any front, now unbalances me to an alarming degree.

I felt, so soon after feeling I was in control, that I was grasping at straws. The ups and downs of that depression were coming fast and hard.

Maybe it was just the thought of sitting with her on Crane Beach during the close season. Those were the memories I wanted to have.

The ones from Monaco, not so much.

Reporting to the training ground, I was in a better frame of mind. That was good, because the first person I ran into after arriving in the club area below the stadium was Weatherby.

“Rob, I need to ask you a few things,” she said, by way of greeting.

“Hello, Jill.”

“Sorry.” The reporter blushed, consumed once again by her desire for news.

“All right, let’s go into the lounge,” I said, walking down a hallway and making a sudden right turn. The players hadn’t yet arrived, so I saw no reason why we couldn’t use that space.

It was comfortable, and it was completely open to passers-by as well. Neither of those things hurt. If I was talking to Alba privately – and I was – I didn’t want anyone suggesting private conversations with our beat reporter as well.

Jill has already crossed swords with Emilani over that.

“I’m hearing you went to Monaco with your wife last week,” she said, getting right to the point.

“Yes, I took a week off,” I answered. “Beyond that, Jill, I’m not going to have any comment and I’d really appreciate not having to take questions about that part of my life.”

She stopped, taken aback.

“Rob, you’ve always been forthcoming with me,” she said. “Off the record, has something gone wrong?”

“Jill, I said I’m not going to comment,” I repeated, trying to stay patient. “Not even off the record.”

“What should I infer from this?” she asked.

“That I’m not going to comment, even off the record. And really, Jill, that’s where this line of questioning needs to end.”

She nodded. “All right, Rob, let’s talk about the team for Saturday.”

Weatherby began to write again, but she already had the answer she wanted.

# # #

[copperhorse21]

Like most great scenes in memorable works of fiction, it's not what is said which makes the story great, it's what isn't said and leaves the readers to forge their own conclusions.

In these past few posts, you've done a great job describing a memorable event, but then leave us hanging with it at a crucial time. Then, the next entry picks up and moves in a new direction, but we don't know where it might go because it's started from a different perspective.

Effing masterful!

[tenthreeleader]

Copper, my friend, thanks for your praise. I am walking a thin line with this arc -- leaving characters in precarious situations and leaving the reader to judge the outcome. It's interesting to see what people really think of the characters I've created. Now it remains to be seen who I disappoint by the plot reveals coming up over the next few diary weeks.

___

“Yes, we do feel we should be in the top four and Saturday will give us a chance to do again what we did last season, which is win on their ground.”

Benitez was in a combative mood at his morning press event today. That should be expected. His team is ahead of mine in the table and the poor run of form that had ended his last season was now just an unpleasant memory.

The clubs have combined for 13 wins and six draws in twenty matches between them this season, with Liverpool having the only loss. Yet, they’ve won seven and we’ve won six, so they are ahead of us in the table.

It’s the same problem we had last season – an inability to finish off teams and an inability to hold leads. It cost us making a real run at Chelsea last season and if we could finish off teams this season we might actually be topping the table.

So I don’t blame Rafa for feeling optimistic. Were I not Scandinavian, and were my wife not sleeping around, I’d feel optimistic too.

He’s just stating facts. Liverpool was the only Premiership team to beat us on our own patch last season and we haven’t forgotten that. So while he talks tough, I am scheming over how to handle his team this time around.

Despite losing that last match last season, we dominated proceedings. We had much the better of play but it was one of those matches where the team that deserved three points didn’t get them.

We also had little to play for on that day. A win might have put us second had Arsenal lost but that was never likely, and we couldn’t be caught for fourth place. We were playing for pride and they had more of it than we did. I won’t say that pleased me to admit, but they won the match and we didn’t.

So watching Benitez, I had the chance to gain back a little of the focus I have lost over the last two weeks or so. I think that’s going to be good for me.

Naturally, then my phone rang. It was Patty.

# # #

“Rob, I want you to know it wasn’t what you think.”

Now, for once, I was in my office with my door closed.

“You’ll need to explain that to me, assuming I give you that chance,” I said. My voice was cold.

“I can do that, if you will allow it,” she said.

I sighed heavily. I had to think it over.

A glutton for punishment to the last, I had to know the answer. I took a second deep breath and fought down a lump in my throat that now seemed to be a permanent part of my anatomy.

“All right, go ahead,” I said. “But it better be good.”

# # #

[Manxie_Ash]

YOU BUGGER!

Why do you leave me, like the proverbial bat, hanging on like this!

[Marcussy]

Aaaaaah the torture!!!! We need to know!!!

[Dalbeider]

Now I fully expect that the next post will be from the McGuire/Richmond perspective, and the one after that will be back to Rob, but he won't mention the call at all.

The Spanish Inquisition would be proud of your methods, 10-3 .

[Balthazars]

Why do you leave me, like the proverbial bat, hanging on like this!

Because the reality is that 10-3 is an evil, sadistic man that gains much pleasure from the torture, pain and suffering of innocent human beings. And he's very good at it too.

[dechardonay]

You're the Devil.

[Motherlover]

I'm still waiting for your curve-ball by having Emiliani knock on RR's door and declare his love for him and how he can't see him suffer like this. Then, RR will admit that he is hot for Emiliani and they will get it on.

That would be so hilarious that I *almost* want it to happen.

[tenthreeleader]

I have always found it humorous that the more intricate and involved my daily plot lines become, the less my readers seem to like the author

Thanks for the comments, fellows. A bit of clarification follows -- and this time, it's straight from the source!

___

On the other end of the line, Patty pulled a portable mp3 recorder out of her purse. She placed it next to the phone, and pushed the ‘play’ button.

# # #

“Steven, there’s a reason I asked you here,” I heard Patty’s voice saying. “And it wasn’t for that.”

“Princess, what do you mean?” That was Hardcastle. The b*****d.

“I mean this,” she said. “You have to know that that what I wrote in that note, I meant.”

“But you told me to meet you here. In our code!”

“Yes, I did,” she said. “And I meant the rest of the note, too. Every word of it.”

There was a silence on the recording at that point, presumably while Hardcastle gathered his thoughts.

“Steven, I told you before when you tried this. I need to tell you again. I’m married and I need to stay that way.”

“So why did you drag me here to tell me this?” he asked. “And why here, when I could stand in front of this door and not let you leave until you understand how much I love you?”

“Because there are others coming in to work shortly, so you won’t. What I needed to say to you needed to be said, just the two of us, where no one else can hear.”

“I don’t get it, Princess,” he said. “Why? After what we shared while I worked with you?”

“First, I’m not your princess,” she said. “Second, I know what you really want, and you aren’t going to get it.”

“And what is it that I ‘really want’?” he asked.

“You want me, of course, but you also want to use me against Peter as well as my husband,” she replied. “I’ve seen what you wrote Peter, and it’s going to get you in hot water. You should never have written it. I’d have been perfectly happy to call you my good friend, maybe even my confidante over time. But you aren’t going to call me anything else.”

There was another pause, which turned out to be a pregnant one, so to speak.

“My baby isn’t yours, it’s my husband’s, and I simply cannot damage that relationship any further by associating with you. It is just that simple. I’m willing to call you my friend, but you have got to realize that what you are doing is trying to destroy someone I love. I won’t let you do that.”

A third pause.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going back to my room,” she said. “And you are going to let me.”

The sound of a door closing on Patty’s recording suggested that she was right.

# # #

[Twizted_seed]

Because the reality is that 10-3 is an evil, sadistic man that gains much pleasure from the torture, pain and suffering of innocent human beings. And he's very good at it too.

Does this make him a politition?

[WLKRAS]

Alright then lads, we can put the torches and pitchforks away, looks like Patty's in the clear

[stoehrst]

Alright then lads, we can put the torches and pitchforks away, looks like Patty's in the clear

It would be way, way too easy to stage that. I'm not ruling her innocent yet.

EDIT: Not to mention the pauses, and 10-3's emphasis on them, suggest that she's cut and edited parts of this recording.

[salkster2102]

The sound of a door closing on Patty’s recording suggested that she was right.

Oh goddam it 10-3 you evil evil man

[gavrenwick]

The part where she says 'The baby isn't yours, it is my husbands' seems careless to me. It insinuates that she HAS slept with Hardcastle at some point. But then the dates won't add up of course. So why did she say it, like it was ever in doubt?

Tenthree has a lot to answer for.

[Motherlover]

“My baby isn’t yours, it’s my husband’s,

So there was doubt?

EDIT: Ah, didn't see gavrenwick's post.

[Manxie_Ash]

You asked more questions, than answered 10-3. Then disguised them in a post that looked to resolve everything.

You are a sneak, sir, and need to be called out!

Hehe

[Balthazars]

I'm with stoe and gav here, there is still plenty of suspicion over Patty out uof all of this. Her responses clearly imply that she was unfaithful with Hardcastle, and the nature of this premeditated 'record and playback' also implies plenty not being said. Still sounds like RR is being messed around. Time to declare he is hot for Emiliani and end this once and for all.

[tenthreeleader]

My goodness me .... what a bunch of word-parsers we have here!

That tells me two things: first, that my arc is correctly set up and second, that you are not alone. RR is thinking the same way.

___

“Now do you believe me?”

My hackles were up. So were my suspiscions.

“It just strikes me funny that you would agree to meet him, without me, alone, and then do this,” I said.

“I never had anything with him, Rob. And I think I have just proven it.”

“You showed me that you turned him down,” I said. “You didn’t show me that there has never been anything, because obviously he thinks there was. And why did you tell him the baby wasn’t his? Why would that matter to him?”

She sighed.

“It wouldn’t. It was for emphasis. Rob, if we’re going to stay together, you’re going to have to take my word for this and quit putting every word I speak under a microscope,” she replied.

“Don’t sigh at me. These are legitimate questions. And yes, I have to believe you.”

I leaned back in my chair, wondering why I couldn’t make myself smile.

“So why would you wait to talk with him until after I left? Why wouldn’t you let me see this for myself?”

“It’s a long story, Rob.”

“I have the rest of my life to listen, Patty.”

She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts.

“I spoke with Inspector Fulton … privately,” she said. I tried and failed to hide my surprise.

“When?”

“While you were in the lobby waiting for Steven to arrive at the hotel,” she answered. “She told me about a threat of violence from the Italians. You had to be away from that, Rob. I’m sure they would have tried something had you been there. They tried before.”

“But they weren’t there, Patty,” I said. “At least, they weren’t there unless you had an audience for your meeting with Hardcastle.”

“I couldn’t take that chance,” she said. “If they had tried something, who knows what Steven would have done?”

She sighed. “You were right about one thing, Rob – he does want me, obviously. And further, if he had had the chance to do something to you in a private location while making it look like an accident … well, I couldn’t have forgiven myself.”

Her voice betrayed no emotion, which also surprised me.

“So you just took that all on to yourself, and to the baby. With no security of any kind. Just you and Hardman.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I can do to convince you,” she said.

“To say that this was poor judgment is really an understatement,” I said.

“What? Because I wanted you to be safe? And maybe even above suspicion?”

“Now what does that mean?”

“Rob, I couldn’t count on you to hold your temper,” she explained. “You know how mad you are right now, you’ve been drinking more, and I just couldn’t depend on you to stay calm and rational. There was that to consider too. Steven had to get the message and I was the only one who could give that message to him. And, I had to be alone.”

She waited a moment and then pressed her attack home.

“When are you going to give me the benefit of the doubt?” she asked.

“Given what you did, and given that you were passing messages around me in code to another man, when do you think I should give it to you?” I answered.

“Whenever you’re ready. I think I deserve it.”

“Is Steven gone from Monaco?” I changed the subject.

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

“So what is to stop him from, say, cornering you again?”

“Really, nothing,” she admitted. “But if he does, he’ll get the same answer he got before.”

“But this time with your security present. Right?”

“Rob…”

“Right?”

She sighed.

“Okay, Rob. You win. Yes, with security present.”

“Good,” I said. “Then, you might just get the benefit of the doubt.”

# # #

[mametz1536]

Doesn't look good - if i was Patty i'll ditch him - Rob's a liability

[stoehrst]

Rob's giving in way too easily. Patty doesn't seem to understand how bad all the underhanded things she did makes her look - regardless of whether or not she thinks it was necessary.

Plus there's the question of whether or not the recording was a set up.

[salkster2102]

Don't do it Rob don't do it!

10-3 how you manage to get the reader so interacted in the story still amazes me and makes me wonder if you are even human!

[gavrenwick]

I like how my suspicions of the wording were noticed just like Rob. <3

[tenthreeleader]

Thanks to all for the ongoing comments and (evident) enjoyment of the thread.

RR is going through a period where he has to make some very difficult choices. Currently, he is under pressure for results from his board, Richmond is not going away, and THEN there is the matter of the Monaco trip.

His character does tend to seek the lowest common denominator in others, and he is going through a definite desire to find some simplification in his life, which should not be terribly surprising.

It is true that simply making a change to his marital situation would be a simplification (in the long run, perhaps), but it is complicated by the undoubted fact that Rob does love Patty. He has a lot on his plate and now he is trying to come to terms with what has happened.

As TV has said, life is complicated and people are complex. One of the most complex, perhaps, is RR himself.

___

Wednesday, October 14

‘England expects’ took one in the shorts this evening.

I watched the showdown match between the Three Lions and Denmark tonight and watched the Danes clinch top spot in their World Cup qualifying group with a 1-0 win.

Thomas Kahlenberg, contracted to SS Lazio, scored the only goal of the match in the 19th minute and the Danes made it stand up. They did it in a way that you wouldn’t expect – by going over to the attack.

England clearly did not deserve to win, for the first time in the entire qualifying round as near as I can tell.

Kasper Schmeichel, who is having a hard time getting a game for Man City, did more than enough to keep the Three Lions caged and so Denmark is off to the World Cup.

And, the Tartan Army rallied from two early goals down against Poland tonight, equalizing through Darren Fletcher and Garry O’Connor to earn a 2-2 draw. That also earned them second place in their group, and a shot at the World Cup through the playoff process. The draw will be announced tomorrow.

Otherwise it was a day of thinking. Many of the players who were in action tonight will be back in training tomorrow afternoon to prepare for Liverpool and thank goodness we’re at home for that match. The thought of having to travel with so much of the senior squad coming back from internationals would be hard to fathom.

I also thought it would be a good idea not to be home alone while watching the match, so I opened up the players’ and staff lounges for a gathering this evening for anyone who wanted to watch the football.

I also had a whole day to concentrate on something else besides Patty. The ball is squarely in her court as far as I am concerned.

The conversation we had yesterday was important. It did appear that she told him off – but the whole thing just makes me angry.

And I think it ought to.

I have that right. My wife met Hardcastle behind my back and tried to hide that secret from me. I am very upset about that and I feel I have a right to be.

The cynic in me also wonders what happened after she turned off that recorder. Really, it doesn't prove anything.

Yet what it all boils down to with me is this; I took an oath before God to love, honor and obey. How far do I take that oath?

Also, I didn’t swear to forgive.

Whether I can find it within myself to do that, no one can say, including me.

All I can say is that it’s a good thing she’s in Monaco and I’m in England. I need every spare moment I have to process what has gone on.

Football, on the other hand, is a welcome release.

After watching another Liverpool match on television today, I see no reason to change the plan of attack we had the last time we played them. I think we’re better off with four across the middle, in a 4-4-2. I see us inviting trouble if we play them 4-1-3-2 and my mind is made up.

At least on that, anyway.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

She called me tonight. I didn’t have to call her. So, that was a positive step.

Yet if her goal is to have me simply forget about everything that happened, I’m not ready to acquiesce. Not yet.

I suppose I am hanging onto this, but not unreasonably. So this time, her tactic was to speak business-as-usual. I wasn’t buying it.

“We’re on schedule, I’m going to try to fly out early,” she said. “Would you like that?”

“Of course,” I answered. “Anything that gets you away from that place is fine with me. Has Hardcastle left yet?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t talked with him,” she said. “It’ll be nice to get home and get back into the garden again. I need to get things ready for winter.”

It was just like she thought everything had blown over. Business as usual.

Not so fast, my dear.

“I suppose. Does our security know if he is arranging to fly home with you?”

She saw I wasn’t going to be put off.

“Rob, there is no need to be jealous,” she said, and regretted her word choice almost as soon as she was done speaking.

“I won’t even respond to that,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” she replied. “Of course you have a right to be. I understand that now.”

“I just wish you had told me,” I said. “What would have been so hard about that?”

Now it was my turn.

“I’m sorry,” I immediately said. “We’ve been over that ground too. I understand that now as well.”

“Then can we call this progress, Rob? Please?”

I nodded. “I think we can, yes,” I said. “But you have to know that thought of you with that man drives me nuts and I think the events of the last few days have shown I was right to feel that way. But you tell me you had honest motives and that needs to count for something.”

“It ought to count for everything,” she said quietly.

“Look, I’m not ready to go there. But we will certainly talk about it when you get home and honestly, I’m looking forward to having you here. If you can get home early, so much the better. I’ll come get you. How does that sound?”

“Like you’re being a husband,” she said. “As opposed to judge and jury.”

The petulance in her tone was undeserved given the facts of the matter. I failed to understand how she could wind up being the one hurt from having held a secret meeting.

“You want to dance and you want to pick the partners,” I finally said. I knew full well what I was saying.

“Come again?” she asked.

“Handling a serious marital issue without consulting your partner,” I said. “Be honest, Patty, that is what you did. Whatever your intentions were, you did it without telling me.”

“I had this situation well under control. While you were winging your way home with Alba Fulton.”

“I won’t argue with you about this,” I said. “We can talk more about it when you get home, but I’m not going to admit that I’m at fault for any of what happened between you and that guy.”

If she was looking to get a rise out of me, it wasn’t working. I was holding my ground. Since it happened to be the high ground as well in my mind, it was territory I could easily defend.

“Get off the idea of Alba, Patty,” I said. “It’s a non-starter.”

She sighed.

“I did what I did for us,” she finally said. “You have to decide whether it’s enough.”

“I already have,” I replied. “Now, you enjoy your time there and your flight home and we’ll talk about it when you arrive.”

We hung up the connection. When I next request to look at her e-mail, I’ll want to know if there’s personal correspondence with Adrian Levant in it. If there is, I’ll have only one option left.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Thursday, October 15

With a mighty effort on my part, I welcomed the majority of my senior squad internationals back to training for our afternoon session, to prepare for Liverpool’s visit on Saturday.

The saving grace of all this is that Liverpool has just as many international players as we do, and they have to travel to meet us.

So it’s really hard to poor-mouth our situation, when the other guy has it even worse than we do.

I’m glad that we made it through the international period without injury, which is the most important thing about all we did today. Everyone is still ambulatory.

Getting out to the training pitch, even if I am no longer allowed to frolic upon the green grass of the park, was a welcome relief and allowed me to forget my troubles for a few hours.

At least, while I was on the training ground. Watching the players do their thing, I did make my way to the touchline to be closer to the action than I would have been on the platform overlooking the facility.

I needed camaraderie. I needed to be around players. It had been that sort of interaction that saved me after I lost Kate, with my Chicago Fire teammates being the glue that held everything together back in the day.

While managers aren’t supposed to be buddy-buddy with their players, I at least wanted to be around that environment again. I felt safe there. I felt secure there.

There was no press present, there were no questions I didn’t want to answer, and frankly I liked it all.

I had no reason to go home when I was so upset after returning from Monaco, so I didn’t.

That is the best part of my job.

# # #

Evening in Bordeaux.

Patty stood on the balcony of a fine restaurant overlooking the sea, enjoying a soft breeze in her hair.

Her heart was heavy, but she could watch the waves and try to forget.

She stood with a small glass of wine – her doctors didn’t want her drinking while pregnant, but she wanted something to settle her nerves – and watched the water.

To the east, the sky began to darken to a deep blue and then to a purplish-black as the sun disappeared over the western horizon.

She still stood, her glass now balanced on a railing. She had been alone for about half an hour, simply collecting her thoughts.

“He doesn’t believe me,” she finally said, weighing her options in her mind. “I can’t change that. Maybe I can change how I present myself to him now.”

She wasn’t thinking of her husband. She was thinking of Steven Hardcastle.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Finally, though, she had to go inside. She had to go back to her hotel room.

Patty finished her glass of wine and turned to go back inside. Her footsteps made a click-click-click sound as her low-heeled shoes made contact with the cobblestones.

Her pace quickened as she caught just a hint of the night’s chill in her bones. It wasn’t much – after all, this was the south of France – but it was enough to make her hurry.

She reached the double doors heading back into the restaurant, where she collected her things. Dining alone was not something she liked to do, but she wanted to clear her head and think things through.

She paid her check and picked up her wrap to head to the outside. She pushed a button on her mobile phone, sending a text message to a driver to take her back to the Principality.

Sighing, she waited alone in the restaurant lobby for a moment, until the driver arrived.

Patty stepped outside, and took a deep breath of the cool evening air. She took two steps toward the car.

From her right side, she was picked bodily off the ground and carried several steps toward the doorway.

She screamed.

Her high-pitched wail attracted attention from the street, and as she was carried around a corner, the sound of gunfire rang out along the street in front of the restaurant.

Two passers-by fell to the ground, hugging the pavement for their lives, while a second car roared past the front of the restaurant.

Patty’s screams were now strident and loud, but with such activity in the street there was no help for her.

Flailing and kicking, she was helpless in the vise-like grip of a large man. He wore all black, and she couldn’t shift herself from his grip, try as she might.

To her amazement, the man then put her down, and put a gloved finger over her lips.

“Not so much noise, Princess,” the man said. “You’re going to get yourself hurt.”

# # #

[Balthazars]

Eh, this is getting even more confusing. Someone makes an attempt on Patty's life and Hardcastle just happens to be there to save her in the nick of time? I sense a setup along the lines of the 'saving hero'. I find it very hard to believe that a person could intervene in an attempted drive-by shooting and have time to pick up another person (who will be quite heavy given she's pregnant) and get out of the way.

[tenthreeleader]

So, people are taking EVERYTHING that happens in this story with a grain of salt?

Good.

< rubbing hands with glee >

I would say, though, Balty, that Patty is not yet heavily pregnant. She is about to be -- but not yet.

Short post today, testing out the new formatting on the boards.

___

“Steven!”

“Yes, it’s me,” he said, looking carefully around the corner. “Don’t move a muscle. I had a feeling someone would make a try for you. Where the bloody hell is your security?”

“In the car,” she whispered, her voice now subsiding to a terrified squeak.

“Amateurs. Bloody f***ing amateurs,” he snarled.

By now, those inside the car were outside of it, looking frantically for the woman they were supposed to be protecting.

Finally, one of them did his job, locating the two behind a pillar near the main doorway. He hadn’t carried her far – just a few feet – but he had certainly been ready to assist.

A man lunged around the corner, only to be stopped by a powerful hand in the center of his chest.

“If I had a gun now, you’d be dead and so would she,” Hardcastle snarled. “You are a bloody f***ing amateur! Now get out of the way and let someone clear this scene who knows what the f**k he’s doing!”

Patty didn’t say a word.

So, Hardcastle did.

# # #

[stoehrst]

Absolute, 100% set up by Hardcastle

[tenthreeleader]

“He did what?”

Fowler perked to attention, sitting bolt upright in his chair.

“He wasn’t supposed to be near Mrs. Ridgway,” the Scotland Yard man said into his phone, listening intently for a response. When he got it, he grew more thoughtful.

“Sounds like if he hadn’t been, we’d have a much more difficult problem on our hands,” he said.

He thanked his caller and hung up the phone. Sighing deeply, he leaned back in his office chair.

“Alba, why did you comfort Ridgway?” he asked, speaking to no one in particular. “I could really use you here right now. But now I can’t even talk with you about this case without arousing suspiscion.”

Taking a second deep breath to slow down his racing mind, he pulled a large and still-growing file folder out of his lower right desk drawer.

Pushing the ‘print’ button in his e-mail program, Fowler generated a hard copy of the details from this latest incident outside the restaurant. Getting up to claim the information from his printer, he thought through the day’s events.

Hardcastle was now a person of interest in McGuire’s beating, but had stayed behind in France for some, as-yet-unknown reason.

And in so doing, he had saved Patty Ridgway’s life.

Or had he?

Usually, Fowler liked challenges of this kind but this one was starting to make his head hurt.

Hardcastle had been sacked for trying to get too close to his client. Even Kevin Costner knew that was a bad idea, in that Bodyguard movie he did.

So, Fowler reasoned, what better way to get back into good graces than to save a life? By plan?

Or, what if it really was a coincidence, and he had been in the right place at the right time?

Or, what if he had sensed something and decided to get involved in something he had no business exploring?

Why would Hardcastle be following Patty Ridgway anywhere, especially if she had denied his advances?

Was he a friend, or was he a foe trying to become a friend again?

Or was he neither?

# # #

[Ishu]

Why would Hardcastle he following Patty Ridgway anywhere, especially if she had denied his advances?

My first post here and i'm reporting a mistake.

BTW just love your story. Did two back to back all nighters to read, was hooked.

[tenthreeleader]

Ishu, welcome to the Rat Pack! And thank you for catching my continuity error. After two years, sometimes my eyes glaze over on certain posts

___

Shaking his head, Fowler stepped outside for a smoke.

He took a deep pull from his cigarette, and tried to reason about how much of this incident was, and how much was not, his concern.

He knew that the McGuire beating was his case, and Hardcastle was now someone he needed to watch.

He also knew that the international aspects of the case were starting to get pretty hairy.

Another crime, if it was indeed a crime, had been committed, this one on French soil. That would make three countries where various misdeeds had been committed, and that was two too many for Fowler.

Especially if the same man was involved in more than one instance.

Turning his thoughts away from the case for a moment, he then had to consider the office bugging case, which was now focusing its attention on Italy.

Was there a connection between anyone involved in that case and anyone involved in the McGuire case – including McGuire himself, who had contacts in Italy through the disgraced Paul Marsden?

There was reason for Fowler to keep his nose in all the cases, at least until more details became clear.

Having already contacted Interpol regarding the Italian aspects of the cases, Fowler realized that he had done all he could do for the time being, at least until more details became available.

He then turned his attention to a second file that was sitting on the left hand side of his desk.

“Bloody reading never seems to get done,” he said, pulling a 50-page document out of the file and finding an executive summary.

The headline promised interesting reading, if you’ll pardon the expression.

“Serious Fraud Office / Findings of Fact / Reading Football Club” greeted the policeman’s gaze.

# # #