A Defining Moment: Vulnerability Behind the Badge
Rhys Dylan
In writing polce procedurals, it’s easy to gloss over the inner workings of the men and women. What’s important, describing the gruesome murder in gory detail? The exciting car chase? Having now written and published 14 books in the DCI Warlow series, it’s become apparent to me that humanity, in all its forms, is just as important as the fireworks.
Here is an extract from a forthcoming volume, as yet unpublished, in this series. In chapter 15, we encounter a powerful scene that reveals the emotional complexity beneath Detective Chief Inspector Evan Warlow’s tough exterior. While investigating the suspicious death of a cyclist, Warlow receives news that his son Tom has been injured in a cycling accident in London. The scene in the hospital corridor, where Warlow breaks down in front of his son’s partner Jodie, serves as a pivotal moment in understanding his character.
He wandered the corridors, not sure why his pulse refused to slow down. To his surprise, he sensed a lump forming in his throat, and his eyes stinging.
This wasn’t in the script.
He walked, got to the exit, turned around and walked back again. Several times. The restlessness matched by his brain going into overdrive. This was not like him. And he struggled to assimilate it. Gil would have a field day. The tough as old boots detective overwhelmed by… what? Emotion? He wasn’t big on that as core curriculum subjects went. But the reality of how close he’d come to losing Tom now hit him like a physical blow. This man in the hospital bed, a skilled surgeon in his own right, was still his boy.
The realisation jarred Warlow. He wasn’t accustomed to this …vulnerability. Where the hell was the hard-nosed cop? He pondered, tried to resolve it. Something to do with the current case, perhaps? Milburn, the cyclist, knocked off his bike and killed. But deep down, he accepted it was more than that. The image of Tom almost under that bus kept flashing through his mind, irrational as it was.
He’d seen people who’d been struck and gone under buses. Seen the way those enormous wheels stripped the flesh like flaying a bloody rabbit—
‘Evan?’ Jodie’s voice startled him. He turned to see Tom’s partner, concern etched on her face. Before he could stop himself, words tumbled out. ‘If anything happened to Tom … Denise would never have forgiven me.’ His chest tightened and a sudden and overwhelming sense of loss, or potential loss, overtook him.
He caught himself. These were words that should have stayed locked in his head, but they’d escaped, irrational and gut-wrenching and shocking, even to his own ears. What the hell did his dead ex-wife have to do with any of this?
But Jodie’s eyes softened with understanding. ‘Oh, Evan,’ she breathed, taking his hand.
Warlow stared at it, befuddled. Jodie, the nurse half his age, should have been the one he was comforting. But someone had turned the table when he wasn’t looking.
‘Is that what this is about?’ She asked.
Was it?
Warlow blinked, unable to speak.
Jodie pulled him into an embrace, and he let her, his usual stoic facade crumbling.
‘You never really grieved for her, did you?’ Jodie murmured. ‘None of you did.’
Warlow shook his head, surprised to find tears threatening. This wasn’t like him at all, but the fear of losing Tom had cracked something open inside him, releasing emotions he’d long suppressed.
‘It’s fine to feel like this,’ Jodie said softly. ‘But Tom’s okay. And it’s okay to miss Denise, too. To remember her. Even after all this time.’
In that quiet hospital corridor, DCI Warlow allowed himself a moment of rare openness. Held by a young woman as he confronted the complex tangle of fear, relief, and long-buried grief for a woman he had truly lost many years ago, but who he had helped bury only a few months past.
Seeing Tom hurt, knowing what might have happened, had stripped away his varnished facade, revealing the deeply caring father and ex-husband beneath. A side of himself he rarely showed, but one that was every bit as real as his hardened detective persona.
This passage is particularly significant because it weaves together multiple thematic threads: the parallel between Tom’s accident and the cyclist murder Warlow is investigating, the lingering grief over his ex-wife Denise’s death, and the vulnerability that lies beneath his professional facade. The moment when Warlow struggles to maintain composure in the hospital corridor, usually so controlled, offers readers a glimpse of the man behind the detective.
It shows rather than tells – through Warlow’s restless pacing, his internal conflict, and most notably through his uncharacteristic emotional response when Jodie embraces him. His admission about Denise “never forgiving him if anything happened to Tom” reveals layers of unresolved grief and guilt that humanise this otherwise stoic character.
This crucial turning point matters within the larger narrative because it demonstrates how personal experience can impact professional judgment. Warlow’s emotional response to his son’s cycling accident adds depth to his investigation of another cyclist’s death, creating an interesting parallel that raises the emotional stakes of the case.
It also allows an exploration of the theme of family bonds and unexpressed emotion that runs through the story. The relationship between Warlow and Tom, complicated by the shadow of Denise’s death, mirrors other parent-child relationships explored in the narrative.
Balancing procedural detail with emotional depth, showing how personal and professional lives intersect in the world of criminal investigation, is one of the most challenging aspects of writing this series. It’s a reminder that even the most hardened detectives are human, carrying their own burdens while bearing witness to others’ tragedies.
Book 15, The Bowman, will be released in January 2025.
Crime Cymru 