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Title: Broadchuch: Sins Of The Father

Date of commencement: September 22 2013

Date of completion: December 24 2014

Series: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe

Rating: M

Authors: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

Summary: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

Disclaimer: We own nothing, but this is based on Broachurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

Dedication: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

Warning: If you have not watched Broadchurch in its entirety, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly’s novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won’t need to rely on it.

Authors' Notes: See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

/=/=/=/=/

Previously...

Episode Two, Part Four: Translation Error


Hardy flicked through the policeman’s notebook, jotting things down in his own. Girl’s name, Luiz Gotlieb. On holiday with her parents and brothers. Never been to Broadchurch before but have visited England several times. That put a different slant on things. Murder victims tended to know their attacker. He looked at the description of her clothing and found an inconsistency already. White top and jacket, blue skirt with a white flower print over blue leggings. They hadn’t found a blue skirt.

He took a look at the photograph the family had taken that morning on the beach and again he felt a feeling of déjà vu. And he didn’t know why. And Connelly’s warning did not help. It still rang in his ears like a dull bell.

He had checked the family’s passports and visas. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Luiz Gotleib, fifteen, student. Mother, Marhildi Gotleib, civil servant; father, Ritter Gotleib, and twin brothers Klaus and Deiter, aged thirteen. He passed the notebook back to the constable standing by the hotel room door and stepped further into the room. SOCO was still next door. He wished there had been somewhere else to interview the family rather than simply moving them into the next room.

He sat down carefully, psyching himself up for this terrible task. This was never easy. And it never got easier. But to have to give the family news like this took its toll on officers. Every victim took a piece of you. After while you wished you could walk away, but Hardy wouldn’t. He wanted to, but he wouldn’t. He’d signed up for this, to stop killers before they struck again. If there was a magic wand that could stop them before they’d started, he’d get one.

Instead there was the reality of the here and now. And another dead girl. And the job of telling the family had fallen to uniformed officers. He didn’t envy their job. The two boys just sat on the other bed in numbed silence.

The man in front of him had an arm around his wife’s shoulders. She already had red-rimmed eyes. And he wasn’t too far behind her. He wasn’t very good at German, never had been good at it at school. He had passed French and could almost make a conversation in Gaelic. If this family didn’t speak much English he was in trouble.

Mr and Mrs. Gotleib, I’m very sorry for your loss,” he began gently. “And I know you would rather not think about what happened, but I must ask you a few questions. Can you understand me all right? Would you like an interpreter?”

It is fine,” the man spoke, his richly accented words almost tripping over themselves to get out. “We come often and I come as a student here when I was in university. I never see this coming. The people here are so nice.” He shrugged and sniffed. “Why does someone want to hurt my daughter?”

We don’t know, but we will find out and we will catch the person who did this,” Hardy promised. “I need to know where you were when you last saw Luiz. Was she scared of something or someone? Did she see anyone she knew?”

We were on the road, coming back from the beach,” Ritter told him. “We stopped for fish and chips. Good English food, ya? We like fish and chips. Luiz need to go to the bathroom and the hotel was there, not far away, and she come here. We wait for her and she did not come back.”

From where you were, did you see anything happening in the hotel car park, or along the road? Anyone hanging around?"

We see lots of people,” Marhildi spoke, her voice unsteady and barely understandable. She shook through a silent sob and dabbed at both cheeks. “It is a nice day. Everyone is out in the sunshine. We wait for Luiz. I hold her food and it is cold in my hand when we begin to come back to look for her. We think she is lost. And then we see policeman on the hotel steps and we are not allowed in. So I think Luiz is safe inside and we wait. And we wait more. And she does not come out.”

We did not know someone has died for some time,” Ritter continued. “The policeman outside said a young girl was found and I said to him that my daughter was here. I ask him if he has seen her and he told me to stand back. I am looking for my daughter, I need to find her. And then the man comes in white and I ask him about Luiz. And we come here. Luiz did not die of scared - uhm. What is it, how do you say it?”

Scared to death?” Hardy offered.

Yes, Scared to death. She did not die of scared to death?”

I’m afraid not,” Hardy replied. “At this point it’s hard to say exactly how she died, but there are people who are working to find out. She was barely alive when she was found,” he revealed. “The paramedics did all they could to save her.”

Ritter nodded briskly. He sobbed openly, but manfully pushed it down. “We are German. We are not having this English stiff top lip. We cry,” he shrugged apologetically.

I don’t think the English stiff upper lip exists, Mr Gotleib,” Hardy replied. “Sometimes I wish it did. We’ll find you another place to stay. The hotel will have to be closed. We will need to ask you more questions as time progresses. But if you remember anything, even the smallest detail, let me of any of the other police officers know.”

Ritter and Marhildi thanked him.

Hardy closed his notebook and stuffed it back into his jacket pocket and got to his feet. He made his way to the open doorway and saw Brian exit the room next door.

Anything,” he said out of earshot. “The family are in the next room so be careful what you say.”

We got for more from here than we did with the first one,” Brian spoke, lowering his voice to a whisper. “She fought like hell. Definitely not consent with a sex game.” He frowned. “Something troubling you?”

Just an instinct,” Hardy replied. “Something tells me the two cases are linked. Maybe not the killer, and that’s a dreadful thought, but something connects the two. And I am convinced I’ve seen the second girl before. But I just can’t place her.” Suddenly he had an idea. “Wait there.”

Hardy returned to the room. “Mr. Gotleib, may I ask, in any of your visits to England have you even been to Sandbrook near Croydon?”

Ritter thought about it for a moment and firmly shook his head. “Nein. We go to London, Cardiff and Edin Burg for to see the castles. We see the Christmas Lights in Blackpool. We go to the Isle of Wight and Brighton and now to Weymouth for to see the beaches. There are no beaches in Hamburg. We have not come to Sandbrook.”

Hardy reined in a sigh. “Ok, Thank you.” He returned to the corridor.

Anything?”

No,” Hardy admitted. “But it’s still there, that nagging feeling.”

I’d say you were mistaken. It happens. Everyone has seen someone they thought they knew, or seen someone they recognise from a distance, but on a closer look it’s not them at all.”

Hardy stared at him.

What?” Brian said.

Oh god,” Hardy said slowly and quietly. “What if someone else had that same thought? What if this girl wasn’t the intended victim?”

That’s a bit farfetched.”

I have a keen eye for faces,” Hardy justified. “Just can’t always put a name to them. But why kill a complete stranger? Why go to all that trouble? It makes no sense. But if the killer was expecting her or someone similar to be here – then you have motive.”

A good way to show me why I picked SOCO,” Brian noted. “I lack your imagination. I need facts and clues. Hunches don’t interest me.”

Yeah, you’re right. I should stick to what I know.” Hardy rolled his shoulders and looked at his watch. “Meet you back at the station. I need another look at the scene before it gets too dark to see.”

ĐĐ

To be continued...

Comments

tkel_paris
Jan. 3rd, 2015 07:50 am (UTC)
Really? When did that change happen? Didn't they use to signify something?
tardis_mole
Jan. 3rd, 2015 04:09 pm (UTC)
Over time. It's a progression of changes.

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