by Robert Innes
Blake skimmed through the report before looking up at the car again, with a frown. “Why?” he murmured. “First they make it vanish, then they blow it up. And I’m guessing no sign of Keith and James Pennine anywhere?”
Patil shook her head. “Nothing, Sir. They’re probably miles away by now.”
Blake sighed and looked around him. It seemed like they were in the middle of nowhere. It was the perfect place to dump a car, but where had the Pennines disappeared to from here? It was all making less sense by the minute.
Then, Blake spotted a house in the distance. “There,” he said pointing to it. “That house. It’s only about a mile away.”
“Just what I was thinking,” Woolf said sharply, standing up from where he had been engrossed in the registration plate, paying no attention to the house whatsoever. “They might have seen or heard something.”
“Actually,” Blake replied. “I was thinking that unless the Pennines were picked up and taken somewhere else from here, then that house might be a good hideout.”
Woolf scratched his chin. “Good, yeah. I was about to say the same thing. Okay, let’s go.” He began to walk towards the police car they had arrived in, but Blake stopped him.
“Do you know what would be really helpful, Detective Woolf? I need somebody to return to the station to get in touch with forensics. Sharon will have a field day with this.”
Woolf narrowed his eyes. “I think I would be much more help checking out the house, Harte.”
“Still, this is my investigation, and I would prefer a more senior officer to be back at base, inform Angel what we’ve found, file the fire report, things like that.” Blake hated being so petty, but Woolf seemed to just bring it out of him.
Woolf bit his lip in annoyance. “Fine. Well, me and Mini can go back together then.” He turned his head to Patil and winked at her. “Can’t we, sweetheart?”
Patil raised a disdainful eyebrow as Mattison folded his arms and glared at Woolf. “Actually, Sir,” he said to Blake. “I’d prefer go with Detective Woolf while you and Mini go and check out the house, if that’s alright with you?”
Blake smiled, hoping it looked more professional than smug. “Good idea, Matti. We’ve got enough officers here to wait for forensics. With me, Mini.”
As Blake and Patil walked towards their car, Blake looked back and was pleased to see Woolf looking sheepish as Mattison continued glaring at him.
When they arrived at the house, everything seemed quiet. It looked a building that at one time had been quite opulent, but had been allowed to fall into disrepair. The lawn in the front garden was overgrown, nettles and brambles spilling out onto the road over the fence, which consisted of mostly rotting wood. Blake stared at the dusty windows for a few moments.
“Does anyone even live here?” Patil asked.
“Let’s go find out,” Blake replied as they got out of the car. “Keep your wits about you. The Pennines could be here.”
Patil nodded as they walked slowly up the garden path. There was an overflowing wheelie bin halfway down and as they got closer, Blake felt glass crunching under his feet. He looked around the yard. It certainly looked deserted. No house proud person would surely want to live here. When they arrived at one of the windows, Blake put his face against the glass and peered in. Though the window was filthy, he could just make out a living room. It looked more like a pigsty; there were takeaway cartons, discarded beer bottles, mouldy mugs, and dusty clothes discarded around the ancient looking furniture. “Someone has been here,” Blake murmured. “Come on.”
He walked round to the front door and knocked. When he got no answer, he knelt down and lifted up the flap of the letter box, which immediately came loose from the door and clattered onto the ground. Blake peered through the slot. Inside, was more of the same. The hallway leading to what Blake could see was the kitchen was in an even worse state than the living room. Old papers, dirt, and even a large black rat scurrying around, chewing at a pile of discarded food on the floor.
“Sir!” Patil whispered urgently. Blake turned his head to where she was. She was peering through the window of what looked like an extension to the house. “There’s someone in there,” she said.
As Blake looked through the glass, he could just make out a figure, standing, perfectly still, though he could not make out their face, or surroundings. “Hello?” he said loudly, banging on the glass. The figure didn’t move. There was a door to the side of them that lead into the room. Blake tried to turn the handle. It was locked. He knocked sharply on the door. “Hello! Can you come out please?” Still, the figure did not move, despite Blake banging on the window again.
“Shall I?” Patil said grimly, stepping back and raising her foot up. Blake sighed as he considered their options. Whoever was in there was clearly thinking they could not be seen and when they were looking for two dangerous men like the Pennines, it seemed that breaking their way in was their only choice. Blake nodded and Patil immediately began kicking the door in. After the third kick, the door burst open.
They walked into what looked like a cellar. The floor was made out of old wooden planks, and there was a repugnant smell that hit their nostrils. But when they saw what was inside, they quickly forgot the smell. The figure was hanging from the ceiling, a large bulky rope around his neck. He stared vacantly at them, his tongue lolling slightly out of his mouth, his whole body limp; he was dead.
“Oh my god,” Patil murmured. “Is that…?”
“Yeah,” Blake replied quietly, his mouth dry. “It’s James Pennine.”
8
Betty looked up at Harrison intently as he closed the cottage door behind them. As much as Harrison would have liked to believe that she could sense his low mood, it was far more likely that she was just being impatient. He set off down the road with her, his chest heavy, thinking back over the argument with Blake with regret. Angry as he was that Blake had completely neglected to tell his parents about him, it had been unfair to blame him fully for Stephanie’s response to what she had discovered.
As he walked through the village, taking care not to give Betty access to the villager’s plants hanging over the fences, he began to mentally rehearse what he was going to say to Blake, to try and rectify things, but his mind seemed to go blank after the word ‘sorry.’ And there were still, after all, things that Blake had not answered.
“Harrison?”
Harrison turned to where the voice had come from, his heart sinking slightly as he saw Colin walking towards him. “You alright, lad?”
Harrison nodded. “Yeah, not bad thanks. You out on your own?”
“Aye,” replied Colin, looking relieved. “She’s having a nap. It takes it out of her poking her nose in where it doesn’t belong, bless her soul.”
Harrison gave a small smile, feeling slightly better. Colin glanced down at Betty and frowned. “You take that goat for walks?”
“Yeah,” Harrison said, pulling Betty closer to him, aware that she was staring at Mrs Featherstone’s hydrangeas with a hungry look in her eyes. “She spends a fair bit of time in the back garden so I like to give her a bit of enrichment. That and I like spending time with her. Is that weird?”
Colin chuckled and smiled. “Nah. I don’t think so. Mind if I come with you?”
Harrison was surprised, but nodded, and the two of them began to walk down the road together.
“Listen, lad,” Colin began, looking over his shoulder towards the B&B. “Don’t think too badly of Stephanie. She’s a good’un, really. She’s always wrapped Blake up in cotton wool. He’s her only child.”
“I’m an only child too.” He thought about how far his own parents had gone to ‘protect him’ in their own way. Suddenly, Stephanie’s methods seemed slightly more normal.
They walked a bit further in silence before Colin said, “He wasn’t an only child. Not at first.”
Harrison stopped and stared at Colin. “What do you mean?”
“Has Blake never told you?”
Harrison’s insides went cold. He almost felt too scared to ask. “What happened?”
Colin stared straight ahead. “She got hit by a car. I was at work; Stephanie and the kids were out in the garden. Stephanie went inside to answer the phone while the kids were playing and, well. You know what kids are like at that age. No fears, the world is there to explore. Anyway, the only thing Stephanie heard was a car’s brakes and then…” He stopped and bit his lip. Harrison got the impression that Colin was not one for public displays of emotion. He was not sure what to say himself, so opted to stay silent and wait for him to continue.
Finally, Colin exhaled and turned his head to Harrison. “Stephanie has always blamed herself, you see. Kids were under her care, and she just took her eye off them for a few minutes. You don’t think it’ll ever happen to you.”
Harrison shook his head in disbelief. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“No, son, you probably wouldn’t. Blake was very young when it happened, but as far as I know, it’s something he’s always kept very close to his chest. It affected him. I don’t know how much he actually saw, you know, when it happened, but it changed him as a kiddie. We were so proud when he became a police officer. Having the confidence to go for his dreams like that.”
Harrison smiled. “I’ve always kind of been in a bit of awe as far as Blake’s concerned. He pulled me out of quite a dark place, after my parents were arrested. He’s just different. He gets people. I guess now I know why.”
Colin chuckled. “I couldn’t be prouder of how he’s turned out, and neither could Stephanie. But that’s why she worries so much about him. She wants him to be safe, and happy. But that’s why we’re here. It’s twenty years ago today. She wanted to see him. So did I, if I’m honest with you. But it’s different with Stephanie. Her and Blake’s relationship has always been a little bit strained because of how much she smothers him sometimes.”
It was all starting to make sense, and now Harrison felt even worse for how he had spoken to Blake the night before, and somehow, even more admiration for the man who had not told him to get lost there and then. He was not hurt that Blake had never felt able to tell him about the death of his sister, just sorry that he had to deal with it all on his own, a feeling he knew only too well.
“It would probably be best if we kept this between ourselves, Harrison, lad.” Colin put his hand on Harrison’s shoulder. “Blake may tell you when he thinks the time is right. But I just wanted you to know why Stephanie can seem a bit…well, you know.”
Harrison nodded and smiled. “Don’t worry, I will. Thanks, Colin.”
“Aye, good lad. And just for the record, I reckon Blake has landed on his feet here. It’s a nice village, and he cares about you a lot too. So, don’t worry. Anyway, I best be getting back. She’ll be waking up soon and I promised to take her to the tea rooms. They’re closing down soon, I hear?”
“Yeah,” Harrison said, his mind still whirring from what he had been told. “The owners are retiring. I don’t think they had anyone to pass it on too, so it’s shutting.”
“Ah,” Colin said, staring into the distance, a wistful look in his eye. “See you around, lad.”
“Bye, Colin.”
Harrison watched as Colin walked back towards the B&B. In a way, Harrison could see where Blake got his kind hearted nature. Colin was similarly down to earth, and had a twinkle in his eye that Harrison recognised in Blake whenever he was in a good mood. As Betty pulled at the rope, Harrison continued walking, the mental rehearsal of what he was going to say to Blake continuing, but this time, with a very different script.
It took Harrison a good half an hour to walk Betty the whole way around the village, having had to stop her from devouring a bed of roses outside the church hall. He was certainly feeling better than he had when he had woken up that morning, but now his mind was preoccupied with how he could make the next day, the anniversary of Bethany’s death, as easy for Blake as he could, without giving away the fact that he knew what the day meant to him. He was just walking past the police station, when Betty bleated as the door to the station slamming open startled her. The next moment, a man Harrison had not seen before stormed out, his mobile phone glued to his ear. When he spoke, it was with an American accent, telling Harrison that the man must be Detective Woolf, who Blake had been ranting about. As Harrison stopped on the pavement outside the station to let Betty chew on some dock leaves sticking out of the side of the road, Woolf looked behind him as he spoke urgently into his phone.
“I don’t know where he is. And I’ve told you not to call me on this number. But when he turns up, you get in touch with me, in the way we arranged, you hear me?”
Fully aware that he was starting to make a habit of overhearing conversations that he shouldn’t, Harrison stepped behind the hedge so that Woolf would not see him.
“I’m not interested in your excuses,” Woolf continued, his voice getting lower. “Just do as you’re told, and maybe, just maybe, you and your stupid family won’t get hurt.” He hung up and then pull out a packet of cigarettes, before savagely lighting one. Betty chose that moment to suddenly charge at him, pulling Harrison out of his hiding place. Woolf turned in surprise at the goat and then narrowed his eyes at Harrison.
“Hi,” Harrison said nervously. “Sorry about Betty. She’s harmless really.”
Woolf did not reply. Instead, he glanced at the hedge where Harrison had come from and was perhaps trying to work out whether Harrison would have been able to hear his phone call or not.
“Is Blake in?” Harrison asked innocently, attempting to distract him.
“Who?” Woolf snapped.
“DS Blake Harte.”
“And who are you?”
“I’m Harrison. I’m Blake’s boyfriend. I just wondered if he was free for a couple of minutes.”
Woolf raised an eyebrow that suggested that Harrison had just met somebody else who was unaware of his relationship with Blake. “No. No, he’s not. He’s out on a case. Which is exactly where I should be, so if you’ll excuse me.”
Harrison nodded. He was just about to turn around and pull Betty back the other way when Woolf called back to him from across the road. “Was there a message you wanted me to give your boyfriend?”
Harrison thought for a moment. “Just tell him I’m sorry about the misunderstanding last night. I think he’ll know what you mean.” He gave Woolf a brief smile, then set off back to the cottage.
9
James Pennine was now lying on the ground of the cellar, his eyes staring coldly at the ceiling while the forensics team examined him. The rope he had been found hanging from had been gently coiled from his neck.
Blake and Patil watched as Sharon Donahue, the head of the forensics team, stood up from where she had been crouched over the body and walked towards them. Blake studied her face as she approached and he sighed. “You’re going to tell me this isn’t as simple as it looks, aren’t you?”
Sharon grinned grimly and looked down at the body. “You’re saying you found him just hanging from the ceiling when you broke into the room?”
“That’s right,” Patil said. “Why?”
Sharon bit her lip. “When you hang yourself, the idea behind it is to break your neck, right?” They both nodded. “So,” Sharon continued. “Explain to me why his neck isn’t broken. As far as I can tell, his neck is bruised from the tightness of the rope, and obviously I’ll have to take him back and give him a full examination, but honestly? I don’t think he did this to himself.”
Blake stared at her for a few seconds and then looked back towards the door they had broken through. Two broken padlocks were on the floor, and a key was still in the lock. “The door was locked. We had to physically kick the door in so we could get in. And now you’re telling me that this was murder?”
“I can
’t say anything for sure yet, Blake, you know that,” Sharon replied. “All I can tell you is my initial findings. Maybe he was throttled with the rope, and then strung up. It’s also worth noting that he’s got enough injection marks in his arm to play dot to dot, including one very recent one. He’s got traces of vomit ‘round his mouth, his lips are blue, his fingernails look black underneath. It’s possible that he overdosed on something. Probably heroin. But like I say, I’ll have to get him back to make sure.”
Blake shook his head in disbelief. “Great. Fantastic. A car that can vanish in the middle of a tunnel, and a man that was too high to know his own name hanging from the ceiling in the middle of a locked cellar.”
“A locked cellar that nobody could have got in or out of,” Patil added, staring at the padlocks on the ground.
“Anything else?” Blake asked, to nobody in particular, as he stormed out of the cellar.
Patil followed him out, looking confused. “Why was he even here?” she wondered. “I thought we had the Pennines’ property nailed as somewhere in Clackton?”
“We do,” Blake replied. “Looking at the state of the place, I wouldn’t be surprised if we find some of their supplies hidden around somewhere. We’ll get it searched. The next question is where the hell is Keith Pennine? They were both in the car last night. And apart from this place, there’s nowhere around near where they left it. Unless he was picked up and taken somewhere, but then why was James left here?” His head was beginning to hurt. “None of this makes any sense.”
“Oi!”
They turned in surprise to where the shrill voice had come from. Striding towards them was a middle-aged woman with greasy hair. Her clothes were filthy, and her eyes were flashing with anger. “What are you pigs doing here? Why don’t you leave us alone?”