by Robert Innes
“Blake?” Harrison said, closing the door behind Colin. “He’s at work. Does he know you were coming?”
“No,” Stephanie said, sitting down on the sofa, pushing the throw away from her distastefully.
“Oh, is it a surprise?”
“Aye, you could say that,” Colin muttered, placing the cases down in the corner.
“Colin,” Stephanie snapped, glancing at him.
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Colin said, standing up and groaning as he rubbed the small of his back. “Any chance of a cup of tea, lad? I’m parched after that drive. Listening to her attempts at map reading and trying to make your way round those roads on the way here is enough to drive any man mental.”
Harrison glanced at Stephanie who either hadn’t heard Colin’s remark or had chosen to ignore it. “Yeah, of course, no problem,” he said. “How do you have it?”
“Ah, you’re a cracker. Milk, two sugars please,” Colin smiled. “Her highness has it just with milk. Not too much though.”
“Right,” Harrison said nodding.
As he made the tea, Harrison realised that Blake had barely mentioned his parents. Harrison’s family life was well known to Blake, him having arrested Harrison’s parents, but he had remained strangely quiet on his own background. Just as he was stirring the milk into Stephanie’s cup, Blake walked in, slamming the front door behind him.
“I have had it with that man!” he exclaimed, storming into the kitchen. “Jacob Angel is one of the biggest arseholes I have ever had the displeasure to meet!”
“Blake…” Harrison began.
“Today, me and Gardiner were pursuing this pair of drug dealers, and we lost them because Gardiner drives like Mr bloody Bean, and I get the blame!”
“Blake, listen, -”
“And he sits there, in his chair, like the sort of patronising, belittling, condescending, stick insect that he is, and do you know what he did? Wrote my name down and told me that, -”
“Blake!” Harrison exclaimed. “We’ve got company.”
Blake frowned. “Who?” He turned to face the living room and his face dropped. “Mother?”
“Hello, Blake,” Stephanie said, standing up.
“How are you, son?” Colin asked, more warmly.
Blake hugged his father, but the look of surprise in his face did not diminish. “What are you doing here?”
“Can we not drop in and see our own son now and again?” Stephanie asked, accepting the tea from Harrison.
“But, you didn’t call, I had no warning,” Blake replied, his eyes wide.
“Warning?” Stephanie said, looking at Blake over her glasses. “I’m your mother, not a landslip.”
“I know.”
“And anyway,” Stephanie said, taking a sip of her tea. “We haven’t seen you since you moved here. How long has it been now?”
“Almost a year,” Blake replied, looking down at the floor like a child being scolded.
“And we’ve not heard a peep out of you,” Stephanie continued. “What happened with you and Nathan in the end? Do you even speak?”
Blake and Harrison exchanged looks. The last time Blake had seen Nathan, he had ended up proving that his new partner, Davina, was heavily involved in a murder.
“It’s been a while,” Blake said shiftily. “I’ve moved on now, Mum.” He put his arm around Harrison, who could not help but feel a slight air of cautiousness about him. “I’m with Harrison now.”
Stephanie glanced at Harrison over her glasses as she sipped her tea. “Yes, I rather thought you might be. And how long has this been going on?”
“About six months,” Harrison replied.
Stephanie nodded, then turned her head to Blake again. “Well, as it happens, we saw Nathan not so long ago.”
Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Did you?”
“Yes. The poor boy is miserable.”
Blake raised a disdainful eyebrow. “He told you that, did he?”
“Not in so many words, no. But a mother can tell.”
“You’re my mother, not his.”
Stephanie apparently chose to ignore Blake’s sarcasm. “Blake, I really think you should get in touch with him.”
Blake groaned and put his head in his hands. “Mum, I’m not with Nathan any more. In case you’ve forgotten, he cheated on me. That’s why I moved to Harmschapel. And that, is why I am now in a much happier relationship with Harrison. What he is doing with his life is absolutely no concern of mine.”
Again, Stephanie glanced at Harrison. “And what do you do?”
Blake rolled his eyes and looked at his father imploringly. “Dad, can you tell her?”
“I am entitled to ask what sort of relationship my son is getting himself into,” Stephanie replied caustically. “After all, seeing as I’m destined to be the only member of the WI without the privilege of grandchildren, I should be allowed some access into your life.”
“I work in the corner shop,” Harrison said, grateful for the fact that Blake was looking at Stephanie in such despair and mortification.
“A corner shop?” Stephanie repeated, looking horrified over the rim of her cup of tea.
“Yes,” Harrison continued, sensing where this conversation was heading. “And I’ve also put my old cottage on sale, so when I’ve sold it, I’ll have a lot of savings.”
Stephanie seemed temporarily placated, but then she turned back to Blake. “Nathan was an interior designer.”
“Yes, Mother, I’m aware of that,” sighed Blake. “But he was also a liar and a cheater. So, let’s draw a line under that, shall we? I’m with Harrison now, and nothing is going to change that.”
“Stephanie, love,” Colin interjected. “Will you leave the poor lad alone?”
Stephanie stiffened, but said nothing. There were a few moments of awkward silence.
“So,” Blake said at last. “How long were you planning on staying for?”
“Just a few days,” Stephanie said. “If you can bare to put your mother up that is.”
“And where am I supposed to sleep?” Colin grumbled. “In the car?”
Blake sighed. “I haven’t got a spare room, but I guess you can have our bed. I’m up early in the morning so we’ll sleep on the sofa bed. That alright with you, Harrison?”
Harrison nodded, but then his mouth fell open. He had forgotten to close the back door when he had gone out to see to Betty and she was now in the house and had managed to get, unseen, to the bags that Colin had dumped by the door. Stephanie let out a shriek of horror as the goat took a sizable chunk out of the bottom bag.
“Argh! How did that thing get in here? It’s eating my bag! Stop it, Colin!”
“What am I supposed to do? What do I know about goats?” Colin exclaimed.
Harrison rushed forwards and pulled Betty away from the bags. She bleated loudly as he led her towards the still open back door and put her outside.
“Oh, it’s ruined!” Stephanie cried, examining the corner of the bag. “This bag cost me over seventy pounds! How on Earth did a goat get in here?”
Harrison looked at the floor as he closed the back door. “She’s mine, I’m sorry. She’s called Betty. I thought the door was closed!”
He smiled at her, but he couldn’t help but notice Blake sighing and rubbing his eyes in exasperation.
That night, Blake switched off the living room light and climbed into the sofa bed beside Harrison. The evening had not especially improved. The incident with Betty had apparently done nothing to appeal Harrison to Stephanie, and she had spent the rest of the evening remaining icy and only giving short answers to anything that he had ventured to ask her. Colin on the other hand had been friendlier, and had even come out with Harrison and petted Betty whilst he fed her, but Harrison was still concerned.
Blake groaned as his head hit the pillow. “What a day.”
Harrison looked at him. “I know. Sorry about your mum’s bag.”
Blake chuckled. “Forget about it. Serves the interf
ering old bat right for the way she spoke to you.”
“Blake, you can’t call her that, she’s your mum.”
“You want to try growing up with her,” Blake snorted. He sighed and shook his head as he stared up at the living room ceiling. “I can’t believe they’ve just turned up out the blue like this. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with them. I’m really busy at work at the minute. Angel is working us all into the ground. He’s got me in early tomorrow for a meeting.”
Harrison nodded and turned onto his side. “Look, don’t worry about your parents. I’m barely working this week, so I can keep them entertained.”
“Doing what?”
Harrison shrugged. “Your dad looks like he appreciates a good pint. And as for your mum, well, I’ll think of something.”
“Take her shopping,” Blake yawned, stretching out. “It’ll give her a chance to look down her nose at other people and not just you. Don’t worry about her. The way she talks, she makes it sound like she was head over heels for Nathan from the second she clapped eyes on him. She wasn’t. It took her months. I know she means well, she just goes about it the wrong way.”
“By the time I’m finished with her, she’ll love me more than you do. How could she not?” Harrison grinned. “Hey, by the way. Who’s Bethany?”
Blake seemed to stiffen. “Why?”
“Oh, I just saw the name written on the calendar for tomorrow.”
Blake nodded and scratched the back of his head. “Just a work thing. Someone I’ve got to see tomorrow, it’s nothing important.”
“Are you two planning on nattering all night?” came a sharp sounding voice from upstairs.
Blake and Harrison exchanged looks.
“Goodnight, Mother,” Blake said into the darkness.
3
Blake walked through the streets the next morning in dire need of caffeine, nicotine, and a full body massage. The sofa bed was a lot lumpier than he had remembered and his back was aching. He had also forgotten how heavily his dad snored, so with the sound of that reverberating around the cottage, mixed in with Betty butting the back door, confused as to why Harrison was in the lounge and not paying her any attention, it had taken Blake a good few hours to finally fall asleep.
When he arrived outside the station, the first thing he saw was a very flashy, silver sports car parked outside. It was not a car Blake had seen before, and Harmschapel was the sort of place where a car like that stuck out like a sore thumb. Frowning, he strolled into the station.
“Morning, Sir,” Darnwood said from the front desk. “You look tired.”
“Thank you, Mandy,” replied Blake dryly. “Whose is the car outside?”
“You’ll find out,” Darnwood replied, rolling her eyes. “In the meeting room. Good luck.”
Blake frowned, then walked down the corridor to the meeting room. When he opened the door, he found Mattison, Patil and Gardiner waiting for him.
“You alright, Sir?” Mattison said as Blake nodded in greeting to them as he entered. “You look exhausted.”
“I’m fine, Matti,” Blake replied hotly. “Just didn’t get much sleep. Do you know who owns the car, -”
But before he could finish his sentence, Angel’s office door opened and a man that Blake had never seen before stepped out. He was wearing a beige mac and had a mass of black curls on top of his head. He was quite good looking, but Blake could immediately detect an air of arrogance about him.
“Good morning!” he said brightly. He had a distinct American accent and as he strolled towards the front of the room, he threw a wink at Patil, who broke into a shy smile, much to Mattison’s obvious annoyance.
Angel followed the newcomer out of the office. “Ah, DS Harte,” he said. “I’d like you to meet Detective Alec Woolf. I worked with him once, a few years ago. I got in touch to ask if he would assist us with the Pennines. Happily, he was available.”
Blake stared at Woolf in disbelief. “I’m sorry?”
Woolf grinned broadly and slapped Blake on the shoulder. “Good to meet you, Harte, I’ve heard a lot about you. Quite the mind you’ve got in that head of yours.”
“Detective Woolf is an accomplished detective,” Angel continued. “I thought the station could do to learn a few things from him. No harm in sharpening up my officers, I’m sure you’ll agree, DS Harte?”
“All the same,” Woolf said, his hand still firmly gripped on Blake’s shoulder. “I’ve not had the pleasure of being involved in some of the cases you have, Harte. A guy walking across water? Shot man in a shed? Genius. Mind you, I’m pretty sure I would have solved them if I’d have been there. Not to toot my own horn, but I’ve had my fair share of so called ‘impossible crimes.’ I once was faced with a woman who had been stabbed in her bedroom, door was locked, and nobody could have gotten in or out. They brought me in because all the constables were completely stumped by it!” He laughed heartily. “Do you know how they did it?”
He looked at Blake expectantly. Then he glanced to the other officers. “How about you, honey? Any idea?” Patil glanced at Mattison who was glaring at Woolf with an expression of pure contempt, then shook her head. “What about old distinguished over here?” Woolf boomed, turning to Gardiner, who had the look of someone daring him to try and grasp his shoulder in the same way. When nobody answered, Woolf laughed loudly again. “She’d been stabbed downstairs by her husband, had stumbled upstairs and into her bedroom, locking the door behind her. Simple. God only knows why they couldn’t have solved it. It just takes a bit of logical thinking. But I’m preaching to the choir there, huh?”
Blake was at a loss for words. This man was a lot to come to terms with this early in the morning.
“So,” Angel said. “Let’s get started, shall we? I’ve brought Detective Woolf up to date with the Pennines. I think we should start putting together a plan of action so that we can bring these people to justice.”
Blake nodded. “Right. Okay, everyone, we, -”
“Excuse me, DS Harte,” Angel interrupted. “But I was rather thinking Detective Woolf should take the meeting. He does have rather more experience with this sort of thing?”
Blake stared at Angel, swallowing down a barrage of retorts. “You do realise I worked in Manchester before I came here, Sir? I’ve had plenty of experience with ‘this sort of thing.’”
“All the same,” Angel said. “Detective Woolf?”
Blake paused, complete fury and disbelief coursing through him, before silently passing Woolf the marker pen he had picked up to use for the white board, and then leant against a desk with his arms folded, fully aware of the smirk coming from Gardiner behind him.
“Okay then, guys!” Woolf exclaimed loudly. He pulled the board down, the case notes and pictures that Blake had placed up from previous meetings disappearing in favour of the other side that was clear. “I thought it would be helpful to start from what we know about these scumbags then work out from there, okay? So!” He began scribbling the two names on the board. “Keith and James Pennine. A father and son, living in Clackton, which I believe is just a few miles away from this charming little village. Over the past few months, after some correspondence with other divisions, you became aware of the fact that these two were dealing in the surrounding areas. Right so far?”
“Yes,” Blake said coldly. “They are wanted in connection with supplying class A’s.”
“Right,” Woolf said. “Coke, heroin, that sort of thing.”
Blake nodded.
“A raid was conducted on their property,” Angel added. “But we found no evidence. However, we do have CCTV of their activities as well as witness statements.”
“So, we got our guys, but no goods. I gotcha,” Woolf said, nodding.
“Every time we get close to apprehending them, they always seem to be one step ahead,” Gardiner said. “Something always seems to get in our way.”
“Like a tractor?” Blake muttered.
“So, we know where they live, we know what
they’re up to, but no solid evidence, other than CCTV of them dealing?”
“Correct,” Blake said, crossing his arms. “So, what would you suggest, with all your experience?”
“These sorts of people are clever, Harte,” Woolf said. “They always keep their ear to the ground, they’ll be watching you as much as you’re watching them. More in fact, if they can. Your goof yesterday is because they’ll have been expecting you.”
Again, Blake resisted the urge to release an angry reply. “So?”
“So,” Woolf said, thoughtfully tapping his chin with the marker pen. “We take ‘em by surprise. We wait for them. We follow ‘em around if we have to. Then, when they’re least expecting it, we pounce.”
Blake could not hold his tongue any longer. He turned his head to Angel. “’Pounce when they’re least expecting it?’ You thought you needed to bring in an expert to tell me to take two suspects by surprise?”
Angel gave Blake a curt smile. “Would you say, DS Harte, given the run of events thus far, that you have managed to take either Keith or James Pennine by surprise?”
“Well, obviously we haven’t, -”
“So, that being the case, in what way is Detective Woolf giving you unhelpful advice?”
“Harte, don’t worry about it,” Woolf said, slapping Blake on the shoulder again. Blake was now quite close to taking the board marker out of Woolf’s hand and thrusting it up his nose. “I’d be the same in your position. Young, good looking upstart like me coming along and calling the shots, I get it. But, be honest. Your way isn’t working so far. Stick with me, don’t be afraid to learn off someone else. I’ve already cleared it with the boss. Today, me and you are going out there and we’re gonna bring these scumbags in and nail them. It might take us all day, but we will find them. I’ve already got some correspondence with another station with word of where they are. Trust me, Harte! We’ve got this. You seen my wheels outside?”
“I did.”
“My pride and joy. The Mazda Miata. She’s a couple of decades old, but that car has never let me down. Plus, it’s unmarked, so we can get nice and close to the Pennines without them noticing us.”