Restless Dead (Harry Grimm Book 5)

by David J Gatward

  ‘So,’ Harry asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, ‘how does someone empty a barn like this of sheep, then? And manage to do it without anyone noticing?’

  ‘No idea,’ Jadyn said. ‘And how many were there?’

  ‘Jim said fifty,’ Harry said. ‘So, it’s not like someone just decided to pop in and throw a couple into the back of a trailer and sod off, is it?’

  ‘No,’ Jadyn agreed. ‘This was an organised job. They knew what they were doing. Reminds me of a gang we dealt with in Bradford that could clear a street of its cars in under fifteen minutes. They had all these drivers who were experts at breaking into cars. They’d just choose a street, turn up together early morning, then all break into a car at the same time and drive off without waking a soul. Amazing, really. You can’t help but admire something like that. I mean, I’m not condoning it, but you know what I mean, right?’

  As Jadyn was talking, Harry knew that what was worrying him the most, and had been from the moment he’d heard just how many sheep had been taken, was that the only way to do it, the only people capable of pulling something like this off at all, was a well-organised gang, and probably one that had done it before. Because if it was organised, then there was every chance that what they were dealing with wasn’t just a one-off, but a larger operation, something involving manpower and money and criminal connections that Harry was pretty sure the dales wasn’t exactly prepared for.

  ‘Right, you go that way and I’ll go round over here,’ Harry said, gesturing with a wave of his hand for Jadyn to walk on down the right-hand side of the barn.

  ‘And what am I looking for exactly?’ Jadyn asked.

  ‘Anything that shouldn’t be there and is, and the opposite of that,’ Harry said. ‘Anything that should be, but isn’t.’

  ‘Knew you’d say that,’ Jadyn said.

  ‘Then why ask?’

  As Jadyn headed off, Harry took himself in a wide sweep down the left side of the barn, scanning the ground. But all he saw was straw and sheep droppings and tufts of wool. And by the time he met with Jadyn at the far end, the only sign he had that the sheep had been taken was simply that they weren’t there anymore. And that wasn’t exactly much to go on.

  Harry leaned on a gate, staring out across the fields at the back of the barn.

  ‘Looks like they just drove in and took them,’ Jadyn said. ‘That’s ballsy, isn’t it? Coming in across the yard like that. Must’ve been pretty confident that Jim and his mum and dad weren’t going to bother them.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Harry said.

  ‘What’s that mean?’ Jadyn asked.

  ‘Either they were confident that they weren’t going to be discovered,’ Harry said, ‘or they weren’t actually bothered if they were. And I don’t know which I find more worrying.’

  ‘Why?’

  Harry turned to face Jadyn.

  ‘Imagine you’re a burglar,’ Harry said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I said so,’ Harry said. ‘Now, say that you’re off to rob a huge house, right? Lots of nice stuff inside, jewellery, that kind of thing. And you’ve sorted out the alarm, so that’s not a problem.’

  Harry stopped talking and stared at Jadyn.

  ‘Do I need to ask why you’ve got your eyes closed?’

  ‘You said imagine you’re a burglar,’ Jadyn said. ‘So, I am. Imagining.’

  ‘And you need your eyes closed to do that, do you?’

  ‘I do,’ Jadyn said.

  Harry took a deep breath, shaking his head.

  ‘Right, so, as I was saying, you’re a burglar, you’re at this big posh house, so what’s going to make you confident about possibly disturbing someone?’

  ‘You mean there’s someone in the house?’

  ‘I do,’ Harry said.

  ‘And I’m breaking in?’

  ‘You are.’

  Harry watched as Jadyn screwed his face up a little, the thoughts of his mind playing themselves out in the lines dancing around his face.

  ‘I’d be armed,’ Jadyn said.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Harry. ‘And you can open your eyes now,’ he added.

  Jadyn did as Harry instructed.

  ‘But you don’t get armed gangs in the dales,’ Jadyn said.

  ‘You can get them anywhere,’ Harry said. ‘If there’s easy money to be made, then take it from me, there are people out there willing to do anything to get it.’

  ‘But an armed gang, though,’ Jadyn said. ‘That’s a bit of a leap, isn’t it?’

  Harry had to agree, but he didn’t do so out loud and instead continued to stare out over the fields. They stretched out before them, once again demonstrating in their quiet beauty just how many shades of green there were in the world. The grey drystone walls held fast the pasture, locking the beauty in and refusing to let it go, as they had done for centuries past. Across the pasture, tracks led from the barn and out to other fields, their scars on the ground eventually fading to nothing. Except that wasn’t quite true, Harry noticed.

  ‘Jadyn?’

  ‘Boss?

  Harry pointed out across the field.

  ‘Those tracks look different to you at all?’

  Jadyn turned to look where Harry was pointing.

  ‘Those ones leading down the hill? Yeah, a bit, I suppose,’ he said. ‘Fresher, maybe?’

  ‘It’s not only that though,’ Harry said, and pointed at the ground just in front of where they were standing. ‘See all these other tyre marks? They head off, right, to other fields, yes, but those tracks, not only do they look fresh, they just keep on going, don’t they? Right on down the hill. But where to, though?’

  Jadyn gave a nod. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘I don’t know quite yet,’ Harry said, and before Jadyn could say anymore, Harry was through the gate and following the tracks across the fields and away from the farm.

  Chapter Six

  It wasn’t that Patricia didn’t want or need to visit her father, because she really truly did, more than ever actually. And yes it was absolutely bloody awful that her mum, Helen, had been killed, hugely upsetting actually, because death was, wasn’t it? And she was upset, of course, she was, but really she just didn’t have the time or the space in her life or her mind to be dealing with it all right now. But what choice did she have? It wasn’t that she was being heartless and cold, just pragmatic, practical, and she was right in the middle of putting together the final stages of the launch of her next new business venture, this one as a freelance accountant and consultant, and that was where her energy really needed to be focused. Not in sorting this other thing out, not when she’d worked so hard to get everything else sorted.

  Sometimes, life really did send things her way to try her, she thought. Why couldn’t it all just go to plan? But, as her husband Dan had pointed out, she could pretty much launch and run the business from anywhere couldn’t she, and wasn’t that the point, anyway? He had also helped her to realise that the only real reason she needed to visit was because it was her duty to do so, and that would do just fine. Also, they could do with a break, which was a little rich coming from him, she had thought, as he’d never really bonded as such with her parents, but he had a point. Not that what they were driving into now was in any way a holiday as such, but her parents’ house really was quite something, and a couple of months in the dales would probably do them both the world of good, wouldn’t it? It would also help take her mind off her last venture, which had gone south rapidly, and perhaps this visit would help her solve it. Something certainly needed to.

  ‘At least there’s plenty of room at the old place,’ Dan said, pulling off the motorway to head on towards their destination, a tractor towing a huge trailer immediately in their way. ‘Your dad will appreciate having you around, I’m sure of it. And for this to happen on his birthday, too. Well, it’s just awful.’

  Patricia wasn’t really listening, her laptop out on her lap, and the Wi-Fi dongle immediately l
osing signal as hills started to rise about them, as though the earth was alive now and swelling up on each side to close in and consume them, the road itself dropping down a steep twisty slope.

  ‘Well, there’s no way I’ll be able to do any work now until we get there,’ she said, shutting her laptop with a huff. ‘Not unless I want to end up being travel sick. And as we both know, I don’t do well at being sick at all. And I’m tired.’

  ‘The travel sickness tablets not working?’ Dan asked.

  ‘They’re working fine at the moment,’ Patricia snapped back. ‘But these roads are just terrible.’

  Resting her head in her hand as she leaned on the window, Patricia felt a squeeze at her knee from Dan.

  ‘You’ve not said much,’ Dan said, his eyes on the road. ‘About your mum, about what happened, I mean.’

  ‘Well, what’s there to say, really?’ Patricia replied. ‘She’s dead, isn’t she? And it’s absolutely bloody awful and tragic and terrible, yes, but I just don’t have the time to be upset, not right now. I really don’t. I’ll deal with it in my own time, in my own way.’

  ‘Well, perhaps you need to make time?’ Dan suggested. ‘You’ll have to anyway, once we get there. Your dad will need you. So will Ruth. That’s why we’re going, remember? Well, that and the fact that it’ll give us a chance to get to know the place a little better. Think what we could do with it!’

  ‘This was your idea,’ Patricia said. ‘Not mine. And I’m not sure it’s entirely appropriate to be going around measuring up for new curtains quite yet, do you?’

  Dan laughed. ‘And just how was this my idea, then?’

  Patricia shook her head. ‘You suggested it.’

  ‘I absolutely did not,’ Dan replied. ‘Maybe we both sort of suggested it together? How’s that sound to you?’

  ‘You said how Dad would need me, and here we are, rushing off up there.’

  ‘I pointed out the obvious,’ Dan said. ‘That’s not the same as saying we should do something. And anyway, you went off in a huff and the next thing I know, you’re in the kitchen with your bags packed. But it’s a good idea for a lot of reasons.’

  ‘A month away from home, though? What were you thinking? It seems somewhat excessive. You’re not usually this keen to go away.’

  ‘It isn’t, not really,’ Dan said.

  ‘This new business of mine,’ Patricia continued, ‘it’s important, not just because it has to work, but because we’ve invested in it.’

  ‘Yes, I have,’ Dan said, and Patricia caught not just the emphasis but the change from plural to singular, but said nothing. ‘And it will all be fine, I’m sure. As to the time, well, that’s what I’ve got between now and the next contract. I can nip back to check on the house as and when. Aren’t we better off using this time to help out? You would only be travelling up here every weekend anyway.’

  ‘Not every weekend.’ Patricia sighed.

  What Dan was saying made sense, though, to visit.

  ‘Let me know if you want me to drive,’ Patricia said. ‘You’ve been away the last two days and you got back late last night.’

  ‘You’ve been busy yourself,’ Dan said. ‘Just had to tie a few things up. All sorted now. And I’m fine. Have we got any of those boiled sweets in the glove compartment?’

  ‘Ruth is there anyway,’ Patricia said, finding the tin of sweets and offering them to Dan. ‘I’m sure she’s doing fine looking after him.’

  ‘You need to look after each other,’ Dan said, popping a sweet into his mouth. ‘Because that’s what families are supposed to do.’

  Patricia went to say something, but Dan hadn’t finished.

  ‘And you’ll need Ruth and your dad as much as they’ll need you,’ he said. ‘That hard exterior will need to let something through if you’re going to deal with this properly and grieve.’

  At this, Patricia’s eyes widened and she snapped round to stare at Dan.

  ‘Hard exterior?’ she said. ‘I’m not a cold-hearted bitch, you know!'

  ‘I know that,’ said Dan, holding up a hand as though to fend Patricia off, ‘but you do have that tough protective layer that you wear so well. And at times like this, you need to take it off. It’s good for business, but not necessarily for the rest of your life.’

  ‘Rich coming from the person who’s already talking about what to do with the house that isn’t even ours yet and may well never be,’ Patricia said. ‘Anyway, I don’t know what you mean. I’m delightful.’

  ‘You know exactly what I mean,’ Dan replied, and once again squeezed her leg. ‘Just relax a little, that’s all I’m asking. Oh, and it’s okay to cry, in case you were wondering.’

  Patricia shook her head. She couldn’t remember the last time she had cried, or the last time that Dan had been so full of empathy, never mind for people who he’d never really found much in common with. And, when she had taken the call from Ruth the night before, and they had spoken about what had happened, she had known that tears were there, somewhere behind her eyes, but that’s where she’d made sure they stayed. Because tears were no use, really.

  ‘Going quiet on me isn’t proving to me that you’ve heard a word I’ve said,’ Dan said.

  ‘How long is it until we’re there?’ Patricia asked, glancing out through the window, the scenery bringing back memories, making her want to close her eyes to it. ‘I could do with a nap.’

  Dan checked the clock in the dash of the car, a Jaguar F-TYPE, in classic racing green livery. It was a thing of beauty and he really did love it, she knew that, and sometimes suspected that it was a toss-up as to which of them he would rather be inside. ‘Twenty minutes,’ he said.

  ‘Well, that should give me just enough time to warm up, don’t you think?’

  The words were jokey, but the sentiment wasn’t, and Patricia turned away from Dan to stare out of the window. On the other side of the glass, the day was grey, matching how she felt inside, and the green of the fells and fields seemed to her to be muted rather than vibrant, the low cloud above dousing the landscape in an almost tangibly depressing mood.

  As Dan drove on, the car taking the miles with ease, Patricia yawned, but couldn’t sleep. She spotted so many barns that she knew would just make the most perfectly wonderful little country escapes. She wondered why people weren’t snapping them up for conversion, why their owners weren’t taking advantage of what was, to her, a very obvious way to make some quick, easy money. Dan had done a few himself and that’s what he had been on with this last while, sorting out another deal or whatever, not that he ever told her the details, but that was for the best, because it was really rather dull.

  She saw another barn, just wallowing in decrepitude, and in it, she saw the seed of what had sent her away from the dales in the first place all those years ago. It was the lack of vision that the people had, at least that’s how she saw it. They were all just so damned happy to simply stay where they were, instead of heading out into the world, to venture beyond the invisible boundaries they seemed to think existed around the dales. She’d never understood it. Never would. Or why her younger sister liked it.

  ‘When was it you moved here?’ Dan asked, as the road cut its way along a valley bottom, their progress observed only by the occasional field of sheep. ‘I can’t quite remember.’

  ‘I was thirteen,’ Patricia said. ‘Dad was still in the army, but he wanted to have some roots, so he bought the house with various investments and whatnot.’

  ‘He was still away, then?’

  ‘He managed to secure a permanent placement over in Catterick, a training position, I think it was,’ Patricia said.

  ‘Well, that must have been nice,’ said Dan. ‘After all that moving around.’

  ‘I guess,’ said Patricia. ‘For him and Mum, anyway. And Ruth.’

  ‘Not you, then?’

  Patricia shook her head. ‘It’s hard to make friends at thirteen,’ she said. ‘I never really settled. Couldn’t wait to leave. And I was never rea
lly as close to our parents as Ruth, you know how it is.’

  ‘Is that why you don’t come back that often, then?’

  ‘I’m busy, you know that,’ Patricia said.

  ‘Indeed, I do,’ said Dan, then pointed ahead. ‘Looks like we’re here, then. How’s that warming up coming along?’

  ‘Ha ha,’ Patricia said as Dan slowed down then pulled left off the road and rolled them up the track to the rear of the house.

  They passed the smaller house first.

  ‘How long has Ruth lived here now?’ Dan asked, eventually bringing the car to a stop.

  ‘Too long if you ask me,’ Patricia said. ‘Why on earth she doesn’t want to get away from the place, I’ll never understand.’

  ‘Perhaps she likes it,’ Dan suggested.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure that she does,’ Patricia replied, unclipping her seatbelt. ‘The low rent and beautiful surroundings must be difficult things to consider leaving behind. Always in Daddy’s good books, the favourite.’

  ‘That’s not so fair now, is it?’ Dan said, opening his door. ‘The divorce was rough, regardless of how many years ago it was, and she’s basically brought Anthony up on her own. And I’m pretty sure that she pays a fair rent to your dad.’

  ‘Oh, you’re pretty sure, are you?’ Patricia said. ‘And what are you basing that presumption on?’

  Dan was out of the car now and swept the door closed behind him. Patricia did the same, though she heaved the door shut with considerably more force. Then a voice caught her attention and there, walking towards her, she saw Ruth.

  ‘Dear God, what is she wearing,’ Patricia muttered to herself, but she saw that Dan had heard by the look he shot her way.

  ‘Ruth,’ Patricia said, breaking away from the stare her husband was giving her, with a disarmingly bright smile. ‘How are you? How’s Dad?’