Work Text:
"Well now you see the enemy we're up against."
Jud turned away from Blanc in a daze, the full weight of this case's reality sinking in with a vengeance.
"You have listened to this flock's stories with empathy and grace but we're done with that now," Blanc continued harshly while Jud retreated onto his bed, "We've wasted enough time. Tomorrow we'll use the gathering at the burial to question them all together. We must discover what happened that night. And what this wicked flock of wolves is hiding."
His miniature monologue was answered with a snore. Blanc looked over to see that Jud's sleep deprivation had finally caught up with him. Head leaned back against the wall. Out like a light.
…
An intrusive fell to the front of Blanc’s mind.
Knees open like that… it’s practically an invitation.
It didn't faze him however. Of course he'd imagine pouncing on the guarded young man the very instance he was physically vulnerable -- the idea was predictable enough to be blasé.
Blanc shook his head to himself before taking a seat on the end of the bed, as if that could prove to his own thoughts that they meant nothing to him. Then taking out his tablet, he put on the video that had inadvertently captured a live broadcast of the murder, lowering the volume to save Jud the trouble of being awoken by Wicks' reverberant voice.
Blanc had already combed the footage a dozen times over upon being introduced to the case, but he wanted to think on it just once more and gather his thoughts, now with the added context of this days investigation and Jud's perspective. From his very first watch Blanc had managed to deduce one key thing: that this 'impossible' crime had precisely two suspects with opportunity to commit it, two men who'd been given mere seconds of unseen access to the body, Father Jud and Doctor Sharp. When Blanc had entered the church that morning it had been with the intention of evaluating the demeanour of, an unlikely, but nonetheless potential, killer. Even innocent, a priest was hardly the kind of company that Blanc was eager to keep, but that short conversation had been revealing in a way that he couldn't have anticipated. Instead of needling remarks or saccharine spiritualism, his brash honesty had been met with a smile, the smile of a troubled and frightened man.
Blanc stole a sideways glance at Jud, still snoring where he'd first sat down, looking peaceful for the first time that day.
…
The second intruding thought had no words, just a physical urge this time.
Blanc turned his attention back to the video.
Watching it again, he could feel the truth beginning to crystallise, even if the full picture remained just beyond his reach as yet. Jud's approach to the body was slow, uncertain, that of a man who did not yet know what was happening. While Dr Nat had moved with purpose, uncharacteristic sobriety, and been given a perfectly timed distraction. Blanc had had an inkling before, but now it was clear, the guilt was bore by two people; Dr Nat, the man to have done the deed, and Martha, his accomplice. But suspicion was not enough, however definitive it could be. As… regrettable as it had been to make Jud feel let down back in the police station, revealing incomplete conclusions at that time would have been far too soon, especially with Geraldine there, itching to make an arrest already. The precise method was still unclear, and more importantly he lacked motive and conclusive proof. That flask being gone had thrown quite a spanner in the works, and if they ever found it again it would likely be thoroughly cleaned of any lingering trace of evidence. The conspirators who'd planned this, Dr Nat, Martha, possibly more, at best they were more than happy to let the blame fall falsely where it may, at worst…
He cast his eyes over to Jud again who jostled in his sleep, sinking down against the headboard until he was lying on his side, curled up in a fetal position. Blanc let out a sigh, standing up slowly and quietly, he moved to turn off the bedside lamp, pausing a moment to watch that sleeping face.
…
This intrusive thought was gentler at least; just the urge to run his fingers through Jud's soft curly hair.
Staring down at him… Blanc found himself feeling angry. Not at Jud, he could never have stayed angry at Jud.
Blanc had chosen not to bring it up, but it seemed to him that the matter of the flask was not the only thing Jud had obscured in his storied account of these last nine months. Unintentionally or not, for the sake of brevity or not, Jud had written very little about his own internal experiences with this parish, and he'd almost certainly minimised the true extent of Wicks' abuse. Blanc found it hard to believe that a man such as Wicks would have the self-restraint to only use confession as a chance to work his needles in, especially not for a target that lived in the same damn walls as him. Cases such as these never failed to get under Blanc's skin, where victims would fail to recognise themselves as such, using their words to cushion what was done to them, doing everything they could to hoard as much guilt as possible. He didn't deserve this, and Wicks didn't deserve his protection, however small and inconsequential the harm may have been. And then there was this damn congregation -- Jud had taken in their burdens and committed them to memory with a sincerity that couldn't be faked, and what had he been met with? Dismissal. Rejection. And this was just the regulars, the relevant suspects. What about the parishioners who hadn't been in the church that Friday? Those who avoided Wicks, who'd walked out and been driven away, Jud would have undoubtedly showed equal compassion for them, listened to their woes and confessions, but where were they in all this? Certainly not in Jud's corner. He was innocent in more ways than just that of the damn murder and yet he didn't have a single damn person around here who was definitively on his side! Perhaps one of the gentlest men of God one could come across in a lifetime and somehow this damn town was so ungrateful that the only person to understand and appreciate what they couldn't was apparently a goddamned atheist!
Blanc took a breath and a silent footed step back, trying to calm himself. It wouldn't do well for Jud if he were to wake up at the wrong moment and see Blanc looming over him in the dark with seething eyes. He needed to get back to his own bed and get some well earned sleep, so he left, paying one last glance before he pulled the door shut.
It wouldn't be long now, he assured himself, just a day or two more, he could have this case solved and Jud would be safe. At the very least, Jud was somewhat safer now than he had been a few days ago, now that he lived alone.
Blanc was never one to wish death on anyone, even the most despicable had as much of a right to their life as anyone, but even so, he couldn't help it…
Jud was not the only one happy the old man was dead.