Buried With Honours: A DCI Thatcher Yorkshire Crime Thriller

by Davies, Oliver

  “Well?” I asked as we walked in.

  Sharp sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “The girl’s not guilty, really, but she knew about the situation and didn’t call it in.”

  “Out of fear,” Mills pointed out. “And she did bring Thatcher to the inn.”

  Sharp hummed. “Leave her for now and see what the others have to say. Who do you see next?”

  “Burns, I think,” I said. “Wheeler can sit in his soggy clothes a little while longer.”

  Mills grinned as Sharp rolled her eyes. But she made no protest as we left the room and wandered over to the interview room where Burns sat, her hands folded together on the table.

  “Norma Burns,” I said as we sat down. “Hello, again.”

  She made no reply, just kept her gaze firmly on the table.

  “I’m going to theorise something here, Mrs Burns,” I said. “Your family has owned that farm for a very long time, and you’ve worked in that inn for a very long time. Your loyalties to that village and the baroness are admirable. It must be nerve-wracking to think that a stranger will come in and take all of that away, but that doesn’t matter, does it? Because you knew about Daisy, about who her father was. And that if the worst should happen to Teddy Flitting, it wouldn’t matter because who better than Daisy to take over?”

  I sighed. “And then Teddy arranged things so that his wife, Sara Graham, would inherit the estate, and you just didn’t want to risk that, did you? So, you and your brother hatch a little plan, and it’s not a bad one, is it? Sara’s in the inn all the time. Maybe she had an accident. A glass of wine too many, and she slips, falls, hits her head. Rather like the show you put on this evening. Only you were overheard, weren’t you, formulating this plan of yours? And by a soldier no less. So, to keep yourselves in the clear, you kill him. Hit him over the head with a shovel and throw him into the river. What have I missed?”

  I made sure that every bit of evidence we’d gathered thus far was laid out on the table for her to look at. We were still waiting on forensics to get back to us about the shovel, but I made a bet, and it paid off. Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed heavily.

  “Nothing,” she muttered.

  “I do have a few questions,” I said. “Would you be willing to answer them for me, Mrs Burns?”

  She lifted her head, meeting my gaze, the face of a woman defeated.

  “Fine,” she said shortly.

  “Good. Let’s start with Major Riggs, shall we, and then we can get onto what happened this evening. And I should remind you, Mrs Burns, that whatever you do not tell us, your brother most likely will.”

  She blanched a bit and nodded again; her mouth twisted downwards.

  “Good. Let’s begin.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Thatcher

  Mills and I studied Norma Burns, who’d lifted her face from the table and stared back, looking deflated. I tapped my pen against the table, patience wearing thin.

  “Let’s start with this,” I said, using my pen to shove the copy of their conversation across the table. “These gaps we now know was when Daisy offered her insight. Only Major Riggs couldn’t see her. He could hear you, though, couldn’t he? Did you hear him?”

  She nodded. “Heard him on his way back up the stairs, realised that he’d heard. We panicked, and my brother said he knew what to do.”

  “Killing him seems a little extreme,” I pointed out. “You could have just denied any knowledge of his conversation. It would have been his word against yours.”

  “We didn’t mean to kill him,” she snapped. “We just— We wanted to give him a little knock, make him forget if we could.”

  “Ah,” I leant back, crossing one leg over the other. “Killing him was an accident?”

  Norma nodded. “We saw him leave the inn, realised that he was calling you a lot and Dennis—” She broke off, sighing heavily. “Dennis hit him. We thought we could get him back into the inn, be there when he woke up, call an ambulance and everything.”

  “You dragged him back inside through the back doors?” Mills asked.

  “Yes,” she nodded. “Got him onto the rug, and then, we realised…”

  “He was dead?”

  She pulled her sleeve up over her hand, wiping away tears and sniffing loudly. “We panicked. So, we took him down to the farm, put him in the river. Thought that would be the end of it.”

  “And you hid the shovel down there, too?” Mills asked. “Tried to get rid of it?”

  Norma nodded again.

  “And where does Daisy fit into all of this, Norma?” I asked.

  “She doesn’t,” she said quickly. “Not at all. She knew what we were talking about, but I sent her home once we realised that Riggs had overheard. She was gone by the time we dragged him in, and she didn’t put two and two together until you lot came knocking.”

  “You didn’t want her to be involved, did you?” I asked.

  “No. She’s a good girl, and we didn’t want her to get her hands dirty.”

  “Out of concern?” I asked. “Or because you needed to make sure she had a clean slate to stake her claim on the estate?”

  Norma sniffed. “A bit of both, I suppose. That so bad?”

  “Protecting Daisy? No, I shouldn’t think so. But murdering an innocent man and attempting to murder an innocent woman, very much so.”

  She had the good sense to wince and look back down at the table.

  “Why bother trying again?” Mills asked. “You knew we weren’t finished with the investigation. Why try again?”

  Norma shrugged. “You’d been spending a lot of time asking her and the baroness questions, so we thought it might look right.”

  “Might make it seem as though Sara was involved?” I asked. “That would have tied everything up in a neat bow for you, wouldn’t it?” I looked her over, my brows creased. “You were that determined to see Sara not inherit?”

  “She’d have ruined it all!” Norma cried. “She doesn’t understand the village or our ways, and we couldn’t let her run it into the ground or sell it all off!”

  “Killing her seems like a very reasonable reaction,” Mills drawled sarcastically. Norma looked up at him, her eyes roaming his face with his crooked nose and bruised face.

  I gave her a wry grin and pushed up from the table. “I think we have everything we need here, Mrs Burns, thank you. A lawyer will be in touch, and I take it you will want your husband informed of your detention?”

  She nodded grimly, her face turning back down to the table. I gathered up all my things, and we left her with another officer.

  “We’ll pull together a confession later,” I muttered, raking my hands through my hair.

  “You want to tackle Wheeler?” Mills asked.

  “I suppose we’d better. Let’s get the baroness in, though. She should be here by the time we’re done.” Mills nodded and strode a few meters away down the hallway as I wandered into Wheeler’s room. Unlike his sister, he was sitting bolt upright, chin lifted, arms folded.

  “Mr Wheeler,” I greeted him. He grunted in response. “Your sister has told us a very interesting story,” I said. “I wonder if there’s anything you’d like to add to it.”

  As I went over everything that Norma had told us, I watched as his face slowly fell, arms sinking down to his lap, eyes dropping to the floor.

  “Have I missed anything, Mr Wheeler?” I asked when I’d finished. “Anything else you think we ought to know now?”

  He shook his head.

  “So, everything that your sister told us is true and accurate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good to know, that saves us a bit of time. Well, Mr Wheeler, the same goes for you. A lawyer will be brought in and if there’s anyone you would like informed of your detention, let us know.”

  “No one,” he muttered.

  “Very good,” I said bluntly, standing up quickly, making my chair scrape against the floor. He flinched at the sound, and I left the room smugly, letting t
he door shut with a very authoritative click. Mills was outside, leaning against the wall, tossing his phone in his hands. He raised his eyebrows as I walked over.

  “You look smug.”

  “Thank you. How’s the face?”

  “Hurts a bit. My mum will have a field day,” he added. I chuckled, and we walked down along the corridor. “The baroness is on her way in, and I spoke to Teddy Flitting and Sara Graham.”

  “How is she?”

  “She’ll be alright, thanks to you,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Quite the hero.”

  “As are you,” I said. “Sorry I didn’t get there earlier.”

  “No worries, sir. You can buy us a pint later, and we’ll call it square.”

  I rolled my eyes, steering him over to our office. I dropped everything on my desk and collapsed in my chair with a groan.

  Fry walked in, knocking sheepishly on the door.

  “You still here?” I asked.

  “Oh, that’s nice,” she quipped.

  “Just meant you ought to be calling it a day, is all.”

  “One last thing, then I’m off,” she said, holding up a folder. “Forensics asked me to bring this up.”

  I reached out a hand, taking the file from her.

  “Good news?” Mills asked.

  “They found a match from the blood samples. The stuff from the ground matches the blood on the shovel, which matches Riggs. I’d say you’ve got them, sir.”

  I chuckled, skimming over the pages before throwing them onto my desk. There was paperwork to be done, but if I started on it now, I wouldn’t stop, and we had the baroness to see, after all.

  “Thank you, Fry,” I said. “You’ve been a great help throughout this.”

  “Happy to be useful, sir. See you both tomorrow,” she added, walking back over to the door.

  “Bye, Leila,” Mills called, head bent over his computer.

  “Don’t get punched again,” she retorted, slipping from the room. Mills lifted his head, smiling at her retreating figure.

  “Her first name’s Leila?” I asked.

  “Do you know anyone’s full name?”

  “I know yours,” I replied, the phone on my desk ringing, “that should suffice. Hello,” I answered the phone.

  “Sir. Got a Baroness Flitting here,” the desk sergeant told me, disbelief clear in his voice.

  “Send her on up, thanks. Baroness is here,” I told Mills, putting the phone down and standing up. My legs hurt from all the running around the village, and I imagined Mills felt several times worse. Being almost drowned would do that to a man. Crowe had cleared him, but I still wasn’t sure.

  We walked out, over to the stairs as Sharp emerged, meeting the baroness as she appeared up the stairs and shook her hand. Sharp looked over at us and jerked her head.

  “My office, chaps.”

  The baroness looked Mills over with mild alarm on her face. “Are you alright, sergeant?”

  “I’ve been better, baroness.”

  The three of us walked into Sharp’s office, the baroness taking a seat opposite Sharp. Mills and I pulled a chair to the side of the desk so that we were positioned in between the two.

  “Thank you for coming, baroness,” I began.

  “I hear you’ve found our man,” the baroness answered, folding her hands in her lap. “Is it a man?”

  “And a woman,” I said. “Team effort between Norma Burns and Dennis Wheeler.”

  She couldn’t mask her surprise, her eyes widening, her mouth falling slightly agape.

  “Norma and Dennis? Dear God in heaven, why should they do such a thing?”

  “Major Riggs was not their intended target,” I explained. “He got caught in the crossfire, as it were.”

  “Dare I ask who their target was?” She asked.

  “Sara Graham.”

  She blinked. “Our Sara?”

  I nodded, and the baroness looked around the room, her eyes not settling.

  “Surely not. Why should anyone want to harm Sara?”

  “Because she’s due to inherit your estate,” I answered. “And they didn’t want that.”

  “Please do explain, Inspector,” she said, lifting her hands to her head and rubbing her temples.

  I took my time, making sure to give her the few details that she needed to know. When we got to Daisy, she sighed.

  “Did you know?” Sharp asked her.

  “Of course. Timothy told me before he passed,” she said. “But her mother wanted to make things easy for Daisy, so as far as everyone else was concerned, the girl is a Quinn through and through. There were always rumours, of course.”

  “You’ve always doted on her,” Mills added.

  “I couldn’t not, sergeant. She is my niece.”

  “Did she ever come into consideration as an heir?” I asked.

  “For me, constantly, but her mother never wanted that for her. I’d have left her a little something, of course, but to leave her the estate, no.”

  “So, even if Sara had died, Daisy would not have been made your heir?” I asked.

  “I’ve not thought about it before, Inspector, so it was never a consideration. I wasn’t particularly keen on the thought of Sara being my heir instead of Teddy, but she is my daughter-in-law, and she understands how to run the place. In theory.”

  “You had no knowledge of this then?” Sharp asked her.

  “No, but I fear I may have played some part. In voicing my concerns to Norma about the situation, I may have given the wrong impression regarding Sara.”

  I sighed through my nose and leant back in my chair. “You think you gave her the idea?”

  “I fear very much so,” she said, looking miserable at the thought. “I am glad that Sara will be alright, though the fact that the good soldier got caught up in this whole mess is a great tragedy.”

  Someone knocked at the door, and a constable stuck her head in.

  “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but there’s a Lord Flitting here, asking to be seen.”

  “Teddy?” the baroness cried, rising from her chair. The constable opened the door wider, and Sara walked in, pushing Teddy in a wheelchair.

  “You are supposed to be in hospital!” the baroness snapped, walking over to him and securing the blanket on his knee.

  “I am fine, mum.”

  I looked over to the confused looking constable and mouthed, “Thank you,” before closing the door and turning to look at Sara.

  “How are you?” I asked, indicating a chair.

  “I’m alright,” she said, her voice still a bit raspy, settling down beside Teddy. “Thanks to you.”

  “Yes.” Teddy turned to me, grabbing my hand. “Thank you, Inspector.”

  “Not necessary,” I said, walking back over to Mills. “Should you be here, Lord Flitting?”

  He didn’t look too bad. There was more colour in his face than last time. “The doctor said that Sara was allowed to take me for a walk, his own fault for giving any specifications.”

  The baroness rolled her eyes but held onto his hand tightly.

  “And I wanted to know the full story, Inspector,” he added, looking up at me. “Since my wife almost died as a part of it.”

  “Very well,” I said, giving them the same undetailed version that I gave the baroness.

  By the time I finished, the three of them looked rather exhausted, and they all went off not long after, their questions answered, and I collapsed in the empty chair. Sharp handed me a bottle of water.

  “Someone needs to update Sybil Riggs,” she reminded me.

  “We will. I imagine she’ll want to be there for the court cases and all that.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Mills agreed. He was sitting next to me, his head tipped back to the ceiling, eyes closed. Sharp and I exchanged a look.

  “Go home, Mills,” Sharp said. “Get some rest.”

  “I was promised a pint,” he muttered.

  “You can have it tomorrow,” I said. “When we’v
e slogged through all that paperwork.”

  Mills groaned and slowly rose to his feet, wincing slightly.

  “You’ll be alright?” Sharp asked, looking him over. “You need to see a doctor?”

  “I’ll let Crowe give me another look over tomorrow,” he said. “Might stay at my mum’s tonight.”

  “Good luck,” I said over my shoulder. Mills gave me a grin, nodded to Sharp, and slowly wandered from her office.

  “You look tired,” Sharp observed, sitting down opposite me.

  “Very kind of you, ma’am.”

  “You do. You should be getting off soon yourself.”

  “I will. I’ll make sure the processing is all sorted and call Sybil Riggs and then,” I smiled. “I shall go home and collapse in bed.”

  “You better, else I’ll Lena look you over as well.”

  I chuckled, taking a few gulps of water. “Fry did good work,” I said.

  “She’s good,” Sharp nodded. “I’m thinking about pushing her towards the detective road.”

  “The more, the merrier.”

  “Would you be up for overseeing a new DC?” She asked.

  “Is this your way of giving me more responsibility?”

  “Maybe. You said yourself that you like Fry, though.”

  “I said she did good work.”

  “Which from you is as good as it gets,” Sharp muttered. “If she wants to, that is.”

  “Leave it to you to persuade her,” I replied, rising from the chair. Another hour or so to make sure that Burns, Wheeler and Daisy were all sorted, one miserable phone call to Sybil Riggs and then home. It couldn’t come soon enough.

  “See you tomorrow, ma’am,” I said, wandering to the door.

  “Try to get some rest, Thatcher,” she called after me. I gave her a little wave, closing the door behind me. The station was fairly quiet now, people packing up their things to head home. Mills had already left, his coat and bag gone from the office. I slipped behind my desk, cracked my knuckles, and got to work.

  Epilogue

  When I trailed off at the end of my story, Paul was staring at me expectantly.

  “What?” I asked, finishing the last of my chips. “You want me to go through all the boring paperwork and court stuff with you?”