‘Well, now that I’ve said it,’ Ben said, ‘I think I can taste it. Liz?’
‘Yeah, sounds like a good idea.’
Harry watched as Liz and Ben pulled each other out of the sofa. They were happy, enjoying each other’s company, and he wasn’t about to ruin that by joining them in the pub with his little black cloud.
When they were about to leave, Ben called back, ‘You sure you won’t join us?’
‘You go on,’ Harry replied. ‘I’ll be fine. You’ve a key?’
‘No,’ Ben said. ‘I’m leaving it behind on purpose so that I have to wake you up when I get back. I know how happy that makes you.’
Then the door thumped shut and Harry was alone.
Pushing himself up out of his chair, Harry headed through to clear up the things from dinner. He liked the flat, but with Liz being around quite often now, it was starting to feel a little crowded. He’d not yet discussed it with Ben, but soon he knew they’d have to discuss moving to somewhere bigger, perhaps even Ben getting a place of his own.
Washing up done, Harry headed back to the lounge just in time to sit down and have his phone ring.
‘Grimm,’ he said, answering it on autopilot.
‘Harry, it’s Gordy.’
‘A phone call at this time of night from a detective inspector is never good, is it?’ Harry said.
‘I’m afraid not, no,’ came the reply.
Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
‘What is it, then? What’s happened?’
‘It’s Grace Black,’ Gordy said. ‘Something’s happened to her dad.’
Chapter Fifteen
When, for the second time that day, Harry arrived at Arthur Black’s house in Redmire, he had no recollection of the journey at all. He could remember getting into his vehicle and setting off, and he was very aware that he had now arrived, but everything in between had been erased by his mind readying itself for what now lay before him, which was a dark and no doubt usually quiet evening, blown apart by noise and light.
‘Harry?’
The usually soft, almost musical lilt of Detective Inspector Haig’s voice had a darker, harder edge to it and Harry’s response was no different.
‘What have we got?’ he asked. ‘Where’s Arthur? How is he? Where’s his daughter? Where’s Grace?’
‘They’re in the ambulance,’ Gordy said, gesturing over to the vehicle, its lights turning a still night into something more like a fairground. ‘Grace found him. Air Ambulance is on its way.’
‘What?’ Harry said, moving towards the ambulance, which was parked outside Arthur’s cottage. ‘Why?’
‘He’s in a bad way,’ Gordy said. ‘Paramedics have stabilised him, but there’s no way they can get him to the hospital in the ambulance in time.’
‘In time? In time for what? Just what the hell happened?’
As if on cue, Harry heard the tell-tale sound of a helicopter, the blades chopping through the night sky.
Harry’s eyes fell again on Arthur’s cottage, the door open, police cordon tape around the scene. He also spotted Police Constables Okri and Blades.
‘What about the rest of the team?’ Harry asked.
‘Matt’s on his way,’ Gordy said. ‘Jim’s on duty tonight.’
‘And Liz has tonight off, that I do know,’ Harry said, thinking back to seeing her and Ben heading out to the pub for the evening.
Harry raised a hand to Jadyn and received a professional nod back.
‘Let me guess,’ Harry said, ‘he’s the Scene Guard.’
‘Of course, he is!’ Gordy said. ‘If there was a badge or a promotion in the police for volunteering, then he’d be first in line for it.’
‘And Jen?’
‘Liaising with everyone onsite,’ Gordy said. ‘Excellent at it, too, I might add. Has an air about her that just seems to make everyone feel more relaxed, even in a situation like this. She was first on the scene. You want to speak to her?’
‘I’ll just check on Arthur first,’ Harry said.
At the ambulance, Harry stepped into the bright white light shining out of the open back door. Inside were two paramedics and a whole world of beeping, flashing medical instruments, nearly all of which seemed to be attached to Arthur, who was unconscious and lying on the gurney. At his side was Grace.
‘Ms Black?’
She turned and Harry caught a tear-streaked face riven with worry, and in the harsh light, her skin looked pale as milk.
‘How is he?’ Harry asked.
Grace shrugged, tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat.
Harry knew he needed to speak with her, but he also knew that to try and do so now would not only prove unfruitful, it would also be deeply inappropriate.
‘You stay with him,’ Harry said. ‘We’ll speak later, okay?’
Grace gave a nod and turned back to focus on her father, then turned back to Harry, grabbing his arm.
‘What is it?’ Harry asked.
‘He… he was here,’ Grace said. ‘When I came over. I saw him, I’m sure I did!’
‘Who was?’ Harry asked. ‘Who did you see?’
‘Eric,’ Grace replied. ‘Eric Haygarth! He was here. I saw him driving off.’
‘And you’re quite sure about that?’
Grace nodded.
‘You definitely saw him?’
‘I’d recognise him anywhere,’ Grace said.
Harry paused for a moment then said, ‘What was he doing?’
Grace shook her head.
‘I don’t know!’ she said. ‘But it was definitely him, his truck. He drove off when I arrived. He was here. He did this! He tried to kill Dad! It was him!’
‘You don’t know that,’ Harry said, his voice calm, not wishing to encourage Grace to become even more agitated and stressed than she already was.
‘Of course, I bloody well do!’ Grace said. ‘He hated Dad, everyone knows that, and Dad hated him, but then who doesn’t? I reckon he took Jack, and Dad being Dad called him and he came over and beat the shit out of him! He was here, it was him, it has to be!’
Harry was looking for something else to say when the clatter and roar of the helicopter landing broke off any chance of communication and he got himself quickly out of the way as the paramedics got to work.
Harry watched as Arthur was wheeled out of the ambulance and over to the helicopter, Grace with him all the way, holding his hand, but as they got to the helicopter, she turned to Harry and stared. Then she climbed up into the helicopter. There was a change in the tone of the engine and the helicopter lifted off, the wind from the blades kicking up dust and dirt and grass as it went.
Harry gazed up at the helicopter as it headed off into the night, then cut back around to walk over to the cottage. Jen was already on her way over to meet him. Gordy joined them.
‘Hello, boss,’ she said.
‘What happened?’ Harry asked.
‘Right now, we’re not sure,’ Jen said, hunching her shoulders against the chill of the night. ‘I’ve taken statements from Grace, Arthur’s neighbours, and the paramedics, and we’ve got forensics on their way.’
‘Did Grace mention seeing anyone at the house?’ Harry said.
Jen shook her head.
‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Why?’
‘So, no mention of someone called Eric Haygarth, then?’
‘Eric?’ said Jen. ‘God, no.’
‘You know of him?’
‘Everyone knows about Eric,’ Jen said. ‘He’s about as pleasant as explosive diarrhoea.’
‘Nice, then.’
Jen shook her head slowly.
‘Grace thinks he was here?’
‘She thinks she saw his truck,’ Harry said. ‘Said she saw it drive off when she arrived.’
‘Could be Eric, I suppose,’ Jen said.
‘You don’t sound convinced.’
‘Oh, he’s a complete arsehole, that’s for sure,’ Jen said. ‘But to do this? I just
can’t see it.’
‘Well, it’s a name to check up on,’ said Harry. ‘You mind giving Jim a call and see if he can find out what he can about him, where he lives, anything, really? I’d rather get on that right away than leave it.’
‘We can get Jadyn to give him a call,’ Jen said.
Harry looked at the cottage, to where Jadyn was standing ready and alert.
‘Going to show me around, then?’
‘It’s a proper mess in there, to be honest.’
‘How’s that, then?’
‘Well, you’ll soon see for yourself,’ Jen said. ‘We’ve kept disturbance to a minimum, as best as we can.’
Gordy added, ‘But between what actually happened to Arthur, Grace turning up and finding him, and the paramedics having to work around it all to stabilise Arthur and get him out, it’s not the best.’
‘I’m sure you’ve done what you could,’ Harry said. ‘Everyone would’ve been focusing on Arthur, getting him stable. Paramedics aren’t concerned with a potential crime scene, and neither should they be, not when there’s a life that needs saving. So, whatever’s gone on to get us to where we are now, whatever crime, well, that’s for us to work out from this point forward.’
At the cottage, Harry lifted up the cordon tape for Jen and Gordy, then followed through himself.
‘And how are you, PC Okri?’ he asked, as they made their way towards the cottage’s front door.
‘I’ve got a list of everyone who’s been in and out of the property,’ Jadyn said. ‘And contact details of the neighbours.’
‘Sounds like you’ve got it all in hand.’
‘I have,’ Jadyn said.
Harry noticed that, even under such stressful circumstances, the lad was keen and alert. Good. He needed him to be. Because Harry’s sixth sense, one born of years in the force, was already spiking. Yes, there was always the chance that this was just a coincidence, that what had happened to Arthur had nothing to do with his dog. But in his gut, Harry suspected otherwise. He’d never been much of a fan of coincidences. And there was this Eric Haygarth Grace had spotted, too.
‘Anyone mention a vehicle?’ Harry asked.
‘No,’ Jadyn said. ‘Anything in particular?’
‘A truck,’ Harry said. ‘Grace said she saw it driving off when she arrived. Owned by Eric Haygarth.’
‘I don’t think anyone was out and about, to be honest,’ Jadyn said. ‘From what I’ve got here, everyone was inside, fires lit, and watching television.’
‘Well, let me know if someone does mention something,’ Harry instructed. ‘And can you give Jim a call, as well? Ask him to find out what he can about who this Eric Haygarth is? From what I understand, he’s a gamekeeper. There can’t be too many of those around.’
Jadyn gave a firm nod and was immediately on to contacting Jim.
Leaving Jadyn, and now at the open door to Arthur’s cottage, Harry came to a stop.
‘Let’s start from the top, then, before we go in,’ he said. ‘What I know so far is that Grace Black called this in after finding her dad in his house in a pretty bad way.’
‘She did,’ Jen said.
‘And whether or not this Eric Haygarth was here, we should soon find out, with Jim on that now. But why was she here? I saw her when I was over here earlier today to chat with Arthur, so she was obviously visiting him then. Why again?’
‘Well, it’s nowt suspicious, that’s for sure,’ Jen said, reading now from her own notebook. ‘She has dinner with him every Wednesday. Apparently, he was off his food, after meeting with you about his dog, so she’d come round to check up on him.’
‘I got the impression they were pretty close,’ Harry said.
‘They are,’ said Jen. ‘Brought her up on his own.’
Harry remembered Arthur telling him exactly that when he’d visited earlier in the day.
‘So, what did she find?’ Harry asked. ‘When she arrived, I mean.’
‘A mess, is what,’ Jen said. ‘The place had been really kicked about. She wasn’t sure what had happened, and her only concern was her dad, which is fair enough, considering the state he was in.’
‘How was he when she found him?’
‘Unconscious on the floor in the lounge,’ Jen said. ‘Blood everywhere. She was half-covered in it herself when I arrived. Ambulance turned up a couple of minutes after me. You’ll see what I mean when we get inside, anyway.’
‘What about Arthur’s injuries?’
‘He’s been fairly knocked around,’ Jen said. ‘I spoke with the paramedics. He’s got fractured ribs, head and facial wounds, possible spine and neck injuries. Bloody lucky that Grace was round here at all, I think,’ she added. ‘If she hadn’t come over, then I don’t see how he’d have survived it. Doubt whoever it was, planned for him to, to be honest. It was viscous.’
Harry knew exactly what Jen was getting at. It said something, not just about the injuries but their intent. Whoever had done this and attacked Arthur, perhaps just injuring him hadn’t been their intention at all.
‘What made them stop, then?’ Harry asked. ‘If you’re in the middle of that bloodlust, it’s hard to pull yourself back.’
‘Maybe this Eric bloke Grace mentioned,’ Gordy suggested.
‘Unless it was him that did it in the first place,’ Harry said. ‘And he heard or saw Grace turn up and bolted sharpish.’
Harry could still make out the juddering sound of the helicopter far off in the blackness.
Jen gestured to the door.
‘After you,’ she said.
Harry, PPE now on, stepped into the house.
Chapter Sixteen
‘Bloody hell…’
‘Yeah, you could say that,’ Jen said. ‘Bit of a mess, isn’t it?’
Earlier when he’d visited, the cottage had been tidy, a place for everything and everything in its place. And Arthur had obviously been happy and comfy and more than a little proud of the place, not so much as a house, but as a home. That much was clear from the numerous photos that lined the walls. Except now, they didn’t line the walls and were instead scattered across the floor, broken and smashed.
Standing in the small hallway, two doors leading off to both the kitchen and the lounge, and the narrow stairs leading up to the first floor, Harry did his best to think back to how the cottage had looked earlier, on the off-chance that something had stuck in his mind then, to help him spot something out of the ordinary now.
Obviously, everything he was viewing right now was out of the ordinary, but he always maintained that police work generally boiled down to the simplest of observations. Either finding something that shouldn’t be there, or noticing something that should be there, but wasn’t. People made mistakes, no matter how careful. And Harry’s purpose in life was to find those mistakes, build a case, make an arrest. Not that this was ever easy, particularly when things were as much of a mess as they were in Arthur’s cottage.
The small hallway was where the carnage began, waxed jackets and gun slips strewn across the floor, the hooks they had been hung on ripped from the wall. Harry saw spots of bloody spatter on the wall by the stairs.
Harry knelt down for a closer look, then glanced over his shoulder at the front door.
‘What are you thinking?’ Jen asked.
‘Arthur was attacked here,’ Harry said, then he stood up and stared at the blood. ‘But how is that there, then?’
‘How do you mean?’ Gordy asked.
‘Give me a minute,’ Harry said then he looked through to the kitchen and stepped carefully from the hall into the room itself. As he went he made sure to avoid treading on any of the smashed photographs and crockery on the floor. Cupboard doors were open, plates and boxes and tins and cutlery were scattered and broken. And there was a smell to the place as well, wasn’t there? It was faint, and it hadn’t been there before, he was sure of that. But it was hard to work out what it was, with everything else that had happened, the fact that the kitchen bin had been kicked
over, and that there was a fresh wind blowing in freely through the front door. Then Harry saw that the window in the back door was broken, the door itself swinging free, only adding to the draft.
‘That definitely looks like a break-in, doesn’t it?’ Jen said. ‘And they fairly went through the cupboards, though goodness knows what they thought they’d find.’
‘“Looks like” is the key phrase there,’ Harry said, making his way over to the door for a closer look. ‘We won’t know for sure until forensics gets here.’
Jen pointed at the floor in front of the door, where Harry was now standing.
‘Glass is on the inside though,’ she said. ‘Whoever did this must’ve smashed it to get to the key and open the door.’
Harry’s voice grumbled in his throat. He crouched down for a closer look.
‘What do you think?’ Gordy asked.
‘I think,’ said Harry, staring at the broken glass, ‘that Arthur would’ve heard the break-in, so why do any of this in the first place?’
‘How do you mean?’ Jen asked.
‘Break-ins are sneaky affairs,’ said Harry. ‘Generally done when a house is empty, and somewhere like Arthur’s place here? Well, it’s not like it’s a huge place that you can go sneaking around without anyone hearing, is it? And smashing through this glass here, well, that wouldn’t exactly have been quiet.’
‘Fair point,’ Gordy said.
‘And if it was a break-in,’ Harry continued, ‘as that broken glass and open door there is clearly meant to make us believe, then what were they after and why did they come here when the house was occupied?’
‘Maybe they thought it was empty?’ Jen said.
‘What time is it?’ Harry asked, standing back up.
Gordy glanced at her watch.
‘Just coming up to eleven-thirty,’ she said.
‘When was Grace here? When did she arrive?’
Jen checked her notebook.
‘Said she was here around ten, though she’s not completely sure.’
‘See what I mean?’ Harry said. ‘Already, none of this makes any sense. If you’re going to break into somewhere, you do it in the dead of night. And you usually make sure no one’s around. If Grace was here when she says she was, then all of this happened when Arthur was clearly still up and about. Otherwise, why would Grace have bothered coming over? I can’t see her making the trip just to wake her dad up, can you?’
Blood Sport: A Yorkshire Murder Mystery (DCI Harry Grimm Crime Thrillers 7) Page 12