‘Didn’t know Dave knew what early morning was,’ Matt said.
‘I’ll be honest, it was a surprise to me as well,’ Harry said. ‘Turns out, we never end up knowing as much about people as we think we do. Early mornings aren’t just something he’s happy with, but something he’s positively excited about seeing, as he’s big into wildlife.’
‘Dave’s just big, full stop,’ said Jim.
‘He called me from Snaizeholme,’ explained Harry. ‘He was up there checking up on some wildlife cameras of his when he saw something in a barn he thought I should have a look at.’
‘What’s there to look at in Snaizeholme?’ Liz said. ‘There’s nowt up there but red squirrels and the wind.’
‘Don’t forget the rain,’ added Jim. ‘That place seems to always have more of it than anywhere else.’
‘When I arrived, he took me to the barn,’ Harry continued. ‘He’d mentioned on the phone that he’d seen some blood and there was plenty of it. Sensibly, he’d not gone in for a closer look and left that to me.’
‘Can’t say I want to know the answer to this question,’ Gordy said, ‘but what exactly did you find?’
Harry sighed.
‘A proper mess, to be honest. More blood, evidence of a lot of activity. And a body, though it wasn’t human. Oh, and some owls who nearly gave me a heart attack.’
Harry saw confusion write itself onto every face in front of him and went on to explain.
‘When I was back down south,’ he said, moving to perch on a table and fold his arms, ‘I dealt with more than my fair share of pretty horrendous stuff. The worst kinds of people doing the worst kinds of things, and not just to each other, either.’
‘How do you mean?’ Liz asked.
‘A few years ago, I was part of a small team tasked with investigating illegal gambling,’ Harry said. ‘Everyone knows it goes on, and most of the time it’s just small timers running backstreet high-stakes poker games, though we had a fair few number of illegal fights to deal with as well.’
‘Bare-knuckle stuff, you mean?’ asked Jadyn.
‘Oh, it went further than just the knuckles,’ Harry said. ‘In fact, the bare-knuckle fights weren’t too much of a problem because the blokes doing that generally came away from it looking worse than they actually were. Lots of blood, a few bruises, but that was about it.’
‘You make it sound like it’s not actually that bad,’ said Jen.
‘I’m not saying that at all,’ Harry said, perhaps sharper than he’d meant to. ‘But the damage done in a bare-knuckle fight isn’t half what can be done to someone in a professional bout.’
‘Seriously?’ Jim said. ‘Bare-knuckle is safer? How’s that, then?’
‘For a start, the fights are shorter,’ Harry said. ‘And the fighters themselves don’t generally try and completely destroy their opponent and give them brain damage. They’re skilled, too. It’s not just some mad brawl.’
‘Where’s this going, boss?’ Matt asked.
‘Like I said, for some it went further than just bare knuckles. There was some real fringe stuff going on, and it was looking impossible to crack.’
‘Fringe,’ Gordy said. ‘Is that a polite term for sick and twisted?’
‘In this world,’ Harry said, ‘if someone’s thought it or imagined it or dreamt it up in some insane, mad, disturbed dream, then it’s probably been done.’
‘Well, that’s not dark at all, is it?’ said Matt, shaking his head.
‘Such a lovely cheery chat and so early, too,’ said Gordy. ‘Sets you up for the day!’
Harry ignored them both, the memories rushing at him now, a thunderous charge of things he’d witnessed over the years, all tumbling into him like jagged rocks and crushing boulders down a mountainside.
‘The fights were all for money, and the fighters themselves could do well out of it, too. And the more extreme, the more dangerous the fight was, then the higher the stakes, and the more money could be made.’
‘How dangerous exactly?’ Liz asked. ‘What the hell were these people into?’
‘This is starting to sound like a dodgy straight-to-video movie from the Eighties,’ Matt said. ‘One of those ones that would have a moulded cover on it and have all the gory bits on the back, with a title like Death Match Blood Fest: The Revenge or something.’
‘Maybe that’s where they got their ideas from,’ said Harry. ‘If you’ve ever watched mixed martial arts, some of what I saw makes that look like a playtime scrap in a school yard.’
‘Fun, then,’ said Jen.
Harry shook his head.
‘No, not really. Anyway, it wasn’t just mad violent types trying to take each other apart with bike chains and clubs,’ Harry said. ‘We also stumbled onto dog fights.’
Harry saw Jim immediately reach down to scratch Fly’s head.
‘The fights were never in the same place twice,’ explained Harry. ‘They’d move them around, some in disused factories, others in warehouses, derelict houses in the middle of nowhere, forest and woodland, just anywhere that they knew would be out of sight and noise range of anyone who might spot them. And, of course, us, the police.’
‘And what’s that got to do with what you saw up at Snaizeholme?’ Jim asked. ‘There’s no one round here into anything like that, I’m sure of it.’
Harry heard the conviction in the PCSO’s voice, as well as the concern that perhaps that conviction was misplaced. Everywhere had dark secrets, Harry thought, and the dales were as likely as anywhere to be home to more than a few of humanity’s nastier members.
Harry went to speak, but Matt got in there first.
‘That’s not quite true,’ he said, looking at Jim.
‘How’s that, then?’ Harry asked. ‘You mean there’s been dog fights around here before?’
Harry knew better than to get his hopes up for this to be a lead, but there might still be something in what Matt was saying.
‘Not dogs, no,’ Matt said. ‘Cocks.’
Chapter Seven
Harry didn’t have to wait long at all for the childish giggles to sweep through the team. He heard a particularly loud snort and turned to stare at Gordy, shaking his head.
‘Really?’
Gordy stifled her laugh, but the others were still tittering as Matt, ignoring them, continued.
‘Well, when I say cocks, I’m not just referring to the animals that had to fight,’ he said. ‘This is a good few years ago now, like, but there were some idiots in the Young Farmers’ Club.’
‘Some?’ Liz said.
‘Don’t knock it,’ said Jim. ‘I used to go to all the local meetups. Great fun. And we raised a lot of money for charity, too.’
‘Anyway,’ Matt said, dragging the conversation back to what he was saying, ‘it was only a small number, like, and I think they got the idea from some movie they’d seen. So, they got a few of their old hens together and threw them into a pen to see what would happen.’
‘Hens?’ Jen said. ‘I thought you said cocks?’
‘And what did happen?’ Harry asked.
‘Nowt at all!’ Matt said laughing. ‘I mean, who the hell ever thinks that hens are going to have a good scrap? Bunch of idiots! And they’d bigged it up as well, invited a good number of folk over, friends and whatnot, and everyone got drunk, then these hens get thrown into this ring made out of a sheep pen and nothing happens! Nothing! No, I lie. One of them laid an egg.’
‘Where’s this going, exactly?’ Harry asked.
Matt was now laughing hard, tears rolling down his cheeks.
‘Hens!’ he said. ‘Can you imagine it? People had turned up for drink and a bit of illegal blood sport, and all they got was a few hens pecking at the ground and ignoring each other! Brilliant, or what?’
‘How did you find out about it?’ Harry asked.
‘Someone called in a noise disturbance,’ Matt said. ‘Though this was all miles from anywhere, so someone not happy with what they were up to clearly just g
rassed on them.’
‘Anything happen to the organisers?’
‘Yeah, they got thick ears from their parents and were kicked out of the Young Farmers,’ Matt said. ‘One of them particularly so, seeing as his dad, Mr Slater, runs the local bookies.’
‘Not exactly crime of the century, is it?’ Jadyn said.
‘No,’ Harry said. ‘Matt, I don’t suppose you can remember the names of those involved, can you?’
‘Must be twenty years ago,’ Matt replied. ‘But I can go and have a chat with Mr Slater. He’s not the warmest of folk, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to oblige if I ask nicely.’
The hen-fighting interlude over, Harry said, ‘Right, back to the barn. Now, obviously, this will be confirmed by the vet later today, once the necropsy is done, but it looks like the body we found was that of a spaniel.’
‘Necropsy?’ Jadyn said, the word clearly not one that sat well with him.
‘It’s an autopsy for animals,’ Gordy said.
‘Also, I found a dog collar at the crime scene,’ said Harry. ‘From that, I’ve got the name and phone number of the owner. Jim?’
‘I can check it against our records,’ Jim said, noting both. ‘See if or when the dog was reported missing. And I’ll check on other dog thefts, too.’
A few months ago now, Harry had given the PCSO responsibility for any crimes to do with domestic animals. The aim had been to help him focus and to feel like he was doing something directly related to what had happened at his parents’ farm, with the theft of their sheep. But it also covered everything from dealing with lost cats to nuisance dogs and escapee rabbits. Harry assumed that if other dogs had gone missing, then there was a good chance there would be a report of it.
‘What else did you find?’ Matt asked. ‘Sowerby was out with you as well, right?’
Harry gave a nod.
‘She was. Can’t say I relished calling her, but she came out and got on with the job, professional as always. We’ll have her report in soon enough, I’m sure. But right now what we know is this…’
Pushing himself up from the table he’d been leaning against, Harry turned to face a blank board and grabbed a pen. Then he started to write as he spoke.
‘At some point last night, a group of people congregated in that barn in Snaizeholme to participate in a dog fight. Whether it was for money or not, right now I don’t care, though that may give us a lead at some point as to the kind of people we’re dealing with.’
‘Those who like a bit of a flutter, you mean?’ Liz suggested.
‘More than a flutter, I think,’ Harry said.
‘I’ll look into that,’ said Matt. ‘When I’m having my chat with Mr Slater.’
‘He won’t be giving up names though,’ Harry said. ‘Confidentiality and all that.’
‘No, but he might have an idea of anyone who might bet a bit on the wild side,’ Matt said.
‘Anyway,’ Harry continued, ‘I personally can’t see a fight like this being for any reason other than money, so that’s what we’re going to assume for now. At least two dogs were involved, that much was evidenced by the damage done on the deceased dog found at the scene. There’s a good number of tyre marks heading in and out as well. Right now, though, we’ve not got much to go on at all. And that’s always an issue with something like this. The people who do it, they’re careful, secretive. They don’t want to be found.’
Harry turned around to look at the team.
‘I’m going to be speaking to the owner of the dog once we’re done here,’ he said. ‘So, while I’m on with that, I need actions right now from everyone here. Because we don’t want this kind of stuff on our doorstep. Whether they’re local or outsiders or both, this kind of activity, well, it’s insidious. It happens in the background, in whispers that few hear, but before you know it, it spreads like an infection and then you’re in all kinds of trouble.’
‘Surely it’s just a one-off, though,’ Jim said.
‘Could be, but I doubt it,’ Harry said. ‘And I know from experience the kind of people that’ll be involved are not the kind of people we want wandering up and down dale. Because if this is what they’re into, then it’s only the tip of the iceberg.’
For a moment, everyone fell quiet, deep in thought, their minds focusing on what Harry had said and what they could all do now.
Matt spoke first.
‘I’ll head up to Snaizeholme,’ he said, ‘have a word with the farmer, see if he’s seen or heard anything, not just last night, but at other times, too. There’s bound to be security cameras on account of it being a nature sanctuary. Then I’ll head over to the bookmakers.’
‘I forgot to ask Dave about his cameras,’ Harry said. ‘They might have picked something up.’
Gordy was next.
‘The only way in and out of Snaizeholme is the road through Widdale,’ she said. ‘So, they’ve either come up through Hawes or along from Ribblehead way. I’ll head over and start on a door-to-door.’
‘We’ll join you once we’re done over in Swaledale,’ Jen said, with a glance over at Liz. ‘It’s a big area to cover.’
‘Farmers don’t miss much,’ Gordy said. ‘Someone might have seen something.’
‘I’ll head down to the vet’s,’ Jadyn offered. ‘Might hurry them along a bit.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Jim said. ‘I shouldn’t be too long over at Neil’s parents’ place. And I know Andy fairly well, thanks to living on a farm. Vets are more like friends, to be honest. They certainly visit more often than relatives, that’s for sure.’
‘And who’s Andy?’ Harry asked.
‘Andrew Bell,’ Jim said. ‘He’s the director and one of the veterinary surgeons there. They’ve a fairly large team, covering the whole of the dale, like, with a branch in Leyburn as well as up this way in Hawes. Nice bunch, as well. Busy, what with this being such a farming area.’
‘That’s everyone, then,’ Harry said.
‘It is indeed,’ said Gordy, having noted everyone’s jobs down in the Action Book.
Harry pulled out his phone.
‘Best you all get on with what we’ve discussed,’ he said. ‘As yet, I don’t think this case requires an office manager as such, so we’ll just run that role between us; whoever’s in at the time, they keep everyone else up to date should anything come in. And as soon as I hear from the pathologist, I’ll let you all know.’
‘What about Swift?’ Matt asked.
Harry shook his head.
‘Can’t see him being too bothered about a dead dog, can you?’
‘No, not really,’ Matt agreed.
Meeting over, and after Jim had checked to confirm that the dog whose collar Harry now held had indeed been reported missing, Harry headed outside to make the call. As he went to tap in the number, Jim and Fly walked past.
‘Jim,’ Harry called out.
The PCSO stopped and turned to face Harry.
‘Boss?’
Harry held the young man’s eyes for a moment, then said, ‘I’m going to assume that I don’t need to tell you to keep an objective mind with regards to visiting Neil’s parents.’
‘No, I mean yes, I mean,’ spluttered Jim. ‘I’m okay, honestly.’
Harry wasn’t so sure.
‘I can’t have you going off on your own again,’ he said, his voice a low growl, though it was one of concern more than anger. ‘You remember what happened last time, the trouble you ended up in, and dragged me into as well? You’ve had more than enough time to reflect on just how far south that could’ve gone.’
Harry knew he didn’t need to remind Jim, but it had to be done, and the look on his face was enough to let him know that his words had hit home.
Just a few months ago, he’d run off on some wild chase to nothing and ended up in more than a spot of bother in Darlington, and it had been Harry who’d had to go and get him out of it. Hadn’t been too easy either and it’d had all the hallmarks of something that could’ve gone very bad ind
eed, but it hadn’t and they’d got away with it, thanks to a healthy mix of good luck and Harry’s brand of getting things done.
‘I hear you, Harry,’ Jim said.
‘You sure you’re not just saying that?’
Harry stared hard at the PCSO, almost daring him to lie.
‘Yes.’
It was a firm yes, for sure, but Harry still wanted to drive the point home.
‘You need to be able to deal with things in turn,’ he said, his voice quieter, forcing Jim to move in closer to hear him, and that only made the lad more aware of just how imposing Harry could be if and when he wanted, or needed, to be. ‘You can’t let one case overshadow another.’
‘I know.’
‘I’m talking, Jim…’
‘Yeah, sorry.’
Harry continued.
‘It’s hard, I know, but if you can’t do it, then you can’t be objective. And if you can’t be objective, if you can’t look at things from a distance, then you’re no use to anyone in this job, particularly yourself. If you keep on carrying the weight of Neil’s death around with you, all it’s going to do is end up crushing you.’
‘I understand.’
Harry leaned in even further, forcing Jim to step back a little.
‘Do you, though, Jim? You sure about that?’
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ Jim said. ‘Look, Harry, I know what you’re saying, I really do. I get it. I was a dick, I’m sorry. But I’m okay now, I’m sorted. Trust me.’
‘Trust you?’ Harry said. ‘I never said I didn’t, Jim. I’m just telling you, in my own unique way, that I’m concerned. Understand?’
‘I do,’ Jim said.
‘Well, you had certainly better do,’ Harry replied. ‘Now, off you go.’
Harry watched as Jim and his faithful dog, Fly turned and headed off. He was good at what he did, Harry thought, just needed a few more years of experience, that was all. Not that he wished Jim to become old and jaded, or so thick-skinned that he was never affected by any part of the job, just that a bit of maturity would help him judge things a little better. Perhaps.
Blood Sport: A Yorkshire Murder Mystery (DCI Harry Grimm Crime Thrillers 7) Page 5