Restless Dead (Harry Grimm Book 5)

by David J Gatward

  At the house, where the heat was just about bearable, he saw the family was standing together and staring at the flames. Patricia was standing in front of her husband, Dan, and Ruth was huddled up close to her son, Anthony. But where was James?

  ‘Mrs Hurst,’ Harry said, realising that as yet none of them had noticed his approach.

  When Patricia turned to face him, Harry saw a face riven with horror, eyes ringed black from tears and lack of sleep. The other three faces turned and none of them looked any better, Harry thought, which was when the hunch kicked in again, and he knew that here, right now, something was very, very, wrong indeed.

  ‘It’s Dad,’ Patricia said. ‘He’s . . . Oh, God . . .’

  Harry was helpless to do anything as Patricia who, when he had last met her, had seemed to have a hardness to her that even a diamond wouldn’t scratch, broke down, sweeping herself round into the arms of her husband, whose face was a reflection of darkness and horror. Ruth and her son Anthony looked all out of tears, their faces lost to an impossible pain neither one could fathom.

  ‘I think it would be better if we all moved inside,’ Harry said. ‘Then you can tell me what exactly happened here. When you’re ready to, that is.’

  No one moved, the four of them held as though hypnotised by the blaze at the rear of the house.

  ‘Please,’ Harry said, this time his voice loud enough to get their attention, which was no small feat above the sound of the fire. Four sets of dead eyes turned towards him and he gestured at the house behind, deciding in the end to take the lead himself, dodging behind them and pushing open the door. ‘It’s better that you all stay inside,’ he said. ‘And we’ll be able to talk a little easier, too.’

  As they moved into the house, away from the hellish heat, Harry wanted to ask where James was because his absence was so obvious, so stark, but he also knew that he didn’t need to. Because the answer was behind him, scorching his jacket into his back.

  Chapter Twenty

  Harry had the whole team gathered in front of him, including Fly, who was hiding under Jim’s chair. Everyone had a fresh mug of tea, Matt had done a quick stop off at Cockett’s for some bacon butties, and now all that was left was to get on with the job in hand. The trouble was, Harry was having a time of it trying to find the words which would get the proceedings started. He knew what he had to say, what task the team was now on with, but his voice was stuck in his throat, refusing to budge.

  With the soft mumble of voices in front of him, as the team chatted quietly waiting for him to start, Harry stared out through the window into the day beyond. His mind had plenty rushing around in it, from having Ben living with him and wondering what their dad was up to now and if they’d ever hear from him again, to having to wait now to hear about how the job interview went, and if he got it, if he was given the role, if he actually wanted it, and now this.

  And, of course, there was the sheep rustling thing, and he hadn’t even had a chance to talk with the team about the hours they’d spent up at the auction mart, even though it was only a couple of days ago, but with the funeral the day before, and the fact that he’d been out of the office at the interview, well, there hadn’t really been much time. Not that they’d found much, Harry thought. Nothing, actually, was closer to the truth. Though it wasn’t for lack of trying, and Jim’s mate, Neil, he’d been particularly enthusiastic about the whole thing, clearly feeling guilty about having kept Jim away from the farm when the theft had happened. Once they were done and back to the office, Jadyn had revealed that he'd collect quite a few cigarette butts just in case. Harry had once again been impressed with the constable’s keenness, though as longshots went, it was right up there.

  Harry’s mind snagged for a moment on the interview, and his stomach twisted just a little. If he was successful, if he got the job, then it would be the biggest change in his life since he’d left the Paras and joined the police. He wondered how Ben would react. He’d put off telling him, mainly because he was positive that he wouldn’t get the job anyway, but now, having been to the interview, he wasn’t so sure. Tonight, then, he decided. That’s when he’d tell Ben. Then they could worry about it together. A problem shared and all that, he thought.

  ‘Right, then,’ Harry said at long last, glancing at his watch, his voice rolling from his mouth like a sour gobstopper, ‘best we get started, then.’

  ‘I’ve sorted a new board,’ Jadyn said, pointing to the wall behind Harry. ‘I forgot to mention it, but I found one going spare over at the Leyburn station and, well, I sort of apprehended it.’

  ‘Did you now?’ Harry said. ‘Had it been a particularly naughty board, then, Constable? Going around causing trouble, was it, that kind of thing? Bit of vandalism, perhaps?’

  ‘I think you mean commandeer,’ Gordy said, and Harry heard the laugh just tickling the back of her voice. ‘Not unless the board was doing something criminal.’

  Jadyn looked up at Harry then turned to face Gordy, a flicker of confusion on his face, then light broke through and he smiled. ‘Yes, that’s what I mean. I think.’

  Harry looked at the shiny new board on the wall behind him. It was bigger than the other one, which was now resting on a table and leaning against the wall.

  ‘So, who’s going to be in charge of getting the details down, then?’ he asked.

  Jadyn was out of his chair before anyone had a chance to stop him.

  ‘Me, Boss,’ he said, grabbing the packet of pens from beneath it. Then he looked around at the rest of the team. ‘Unless someone else wants to, I mean.’

  ‘Jen?’ Harry asked, knowing she was usually all over it. Not only that, when she did it, there was a sense of order to what she was writing on, or pinning to, the board. With Jadyn, it was a little more haphazard. The details were always there, yes, but finding them was sometimes a problem.

  ‘No, I’m good,’ Jen said. ‘I’ll jump in if I’m needed, but Constable Okri can do just as good a job, I’m sure.’

  Harry witnessed Jadyn’s face break into the world’s largest smile as he opened up the pens and got ready to write.

  ‘Best we get started then,’ Harry began, only to be interrupted by Jadyn.

  ‘What shall I call it?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘It needs a title, doesn’t it?’ Jadyn said. He then pointed at the other board. ‘That one’s Sheep Theft, isn’t it? So, what shall I call this one?’

  ‘It doesn’t really matter,’ Harry said. ‘Just use your imagination.’

  ‘Oh, now that’s just asking for trouble,’ said Matt, shaking his head then hiding his eyes behind his hand. ‘Jadyn’s imagination. The world isn’t ready for it.’

  ‘What about house fire?’ Jadyn asked. ‘No, wait, we need the place as well, don’t we, otherwise, we won’t know what it’s referring to. So, what about Fire at Black Moss House?’

  ‘Sounds like the kind of novel you find for a quid in the discount bin in a bookshop.’ Liz laughed.

  ‘You know, that’s what Hawes is missing,’ Gordy said. ‘A decent little bookshop of its own. I know there’s that second-hand one in the market hall, but it’s not the same, is it?’

  ‘One that sells coffee and has events on,’ Liz agreed. ‘Yeah, that would be lovely, wouldn’t it? You should head over to Sedbergh, there’s some good ones over there.’

  Harry held up a hand. ‘Exciting though this is, to discuss our views on the literary needs of the local community, I think it best if we get back to what we’re all here to actually do, by which I mean, some police work!’

  ‘Black Moss Fire!’ Jadyn exclaimed. ‘Perfect!’

  Harry watched Jadyn write the words at the top of the board.

  ‘Brilliant.’ Matt sighed, shaking his head. ‘Sounds like a movie on Netflix.’

  ‘So,’ Harry said, ‘this is what we know so far. At some point last night, a fire broke out in the cabin over at Black Moss House. Emergency services were called. Liz and I arrived just after the fire service and j
ust before the ambulance. While the fire was being dealt with, I took the family inside to find out what had happened, Liz joined me soon after, having liaised with the other two emergency services.’

  ‘Which was when we were informed that James was missing,’ Liz said.

  ‘And tragically,’ Harry said, ‘it was then later confirmed that a body was found in the remains of the burned-out cabin. It’s currently with forensics and I’m hoping we will hear later today, just to confirm identity, really.’

  ‘But it can’t really be anyone else, can it?’ Jim said.

  ‘No, it can’t,’ Harry agreed. ‘Fire investigators are over at the scene this morning to identify how the fire started. We should hear from them later as well.’

  ‘Who made the call?’ Matt asked.

  ‘That was Ruth, James’ youngest daughter,’ Liz said. ‘She only noticed it because she’d gone outside to get some more wood for her fire. But Pat, James’ other daughter, and her husband, they were up by then as well.’

  ‘Yeah, it was a cold night,’ Jim said.

  ‘And what time was that?’ asked Gordy.

  ‘About eleven forty-five,’ Liz said.

  Harry caught Gordy flash a look up at him.

  ‘Late to be adding more fuel to a fire,’ she said.

  It was, Harry thought, but it was a little early in the day to start being suspicious. All they really knew was that James Fletcher had been killed in a fire. The reason for the meeting this morning was to get down all the information that they could so that they could respond accordingly when they heard from forensics and the fire investigators. For all they knew, James had suffered a heart attack, a spark had jumped from the stove in the shed, something had caught fire, and by the time anyone noticed it was just too late to do anything about it. It was sad, but it was the kind of thing that happened.

  ‘Ruth’s having trouble sleeping, I think,’ Liz said. ‘Can’t blame her, to be honest, with the weirdness that’s been going on over there since she lost her mum. And I think something’s up with her son, Anthony, as well.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Not sure really,’ Liz said. ‘He was off school with a migraine when Jen and I were over there, but I think there’s something else going on.’

  ‘School stuff probably,’ said Jadyn.

  ‘Yeah, I reckon,’ Liz agreed.

  Harry said, ‘Perhaps it’s best if we have a quick run-through of what’s going on, with the family I mean, what happened last week, what we’ve been called out there for. Just so we’re all aware.’

  ‘But we all know, don’t we?’ Jadyn said.

  ‘I know we all know,’ Harry nodded, ‘and that’s because we’re a small team that actually communicates, which is rarer than you’d believe, trust me, but it’s still best to make sure we all have the facts straight, I think.’

  ‘You reckon it all might be relevant, then?’ Matt asked.

  ‘Everything’s relevant right now,’ Harry said. ‘Even if it doesn’t look like it is at the moment. And there’s no denying that it’s all been a bit odd.’

  ‘So, where do you want to start then?’

  ‘With you,’ Harry replied, nodding at Matt. ‘If that’s okay? You attended the accident. And although it’s not directly linked to the fire, it does give the background to how James was and how the family is, I think.’

  Matt relayed what they knew from the accident, that James and Helen had been returning from Kendal, Helen driving, when a bright light, most likely from an oncoming car, had caused Helen to lose control of the car. ‘It was pretty awful, if I’m honest,’ Matt said. ‘Nothing ever prepares you for something like that, you know? Nothing at all.’

  ‘Ruth said something about her mum not liking to drive in the dark,’ Liz added. ‘But I think it was just James trying to blame himself for what happened.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Harry asked.

  ‘She drove because she wanted him to have a drink on his birthday, and apparently, she would really only ever drive at night if it was a special occasion.’

  ‘Maybe she just didn’t like driving,’ Jadyn said. ‘My Gran’s like that. Gets a brand new car every year, never drives the thing though. Just has it sitting in the drive.’

  Next, Gordy spoke about when she had visited the family in the morning and the very apparent trauma they were suffering in light of the event. ‘There was a real, palpable sadness to the house,’ she said. ‘I sat with them for a good while, talked things through, advised them on what support was available. They’d already been in touch with the Methodist minister, and James’ eldest daughter was turning up the next day. So there was a support structure in place.’

  ‘Then we had the intruder,’ Matt said, and went on to quickly relay what he and Harry had dealt with when they had gone over.

  ‘James was convinced he’d seen his wife,’ Harry said. ‘Which clearly he hadn’t. There was no evidence of an intruder, and we checked with the rest of the family, and none of them had been out where James had apparently seen this woman who he claimed was his wife.’

  ‘Poor bloke,’ Jadyn said, pausing for a moment from writing on the board. Harry glanced at it and wished that he hadn’t, because right now all it seemed to be was a sea of squiggles and lines, and he felt then that if he stared at it too long he would end up being hypnotised.

  ‘Then Jen and I were out there again,’ Liz said, ‘and I think it had only gotten worse, to be honest.’

  Liz then told everyone how Ruth had told her about the visit by the medium, Beverly Sanford. ‘James wasn’t just convinced he’d seen his wife, he wanted to communicate with her, have proof that she was still around. It was a bit weird, if I’m honest. His daughter, Ruth, she was clearly exhausted by it.’

  ‘I had a look around the property again, like you did, Matt,’ said Jen, ‘and like you, found nowt.’

  ‘You’ve seen how similar they all are though, right?’ Liz said. ‘Ruth and Patricia, even Ruth’s son, Anthony. They all look like each other, like Helen. It’s uncanny.’

  ‘So, you think it was just a case of James seeing them, and considering his state of mind, turning it into something else?’ Gordy asked.

  ‘It’s the only answer that makes sense,’ Liz said, holding her hands up. ‘Again, none of the family was where he said he’d seen Helen, but the way he was acting, I’m not sure it really mattered. And there’s that weirdness with Ruth and Anthony.’

  ‘Then we have the episode at the funeral,’ Harry said, ‘and now this fire, which has taken the life of James.’

  ‘Actually, that’s not everything,’ Liz said.

  The team all turned to stare at Liz.

  ‘There’s something else?’ Harry asked. ‘How can there be? You were out there with me last night and I don’t recall anything else being mentioned.’

  ‘It only came through to me this morning,’ Liz said. ‘I got a call from Patricia. She was still very upset and kept apologising for not mentioning it last night, but anyway, you know that medium who James had out to see him?’

  ‘Yes,’ Harry said. ‘What about her?’

  ‘Turns out that she was there last night, before the fire.’

  ‘What?’ Harry said. ‘Why?’

  ‘They held a séance,’ Liz said. ‘And apparently, it all went just a little too well.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Harry was outside, grabbing some fresh air to clear his head. He was sure he could still smell the fire from the night before on his skin, despite scrubbing himself raw in the shower when he’d got back and throwing his clothes in the wash. What was worse, though, was that his brain was telling him there was another smell beneath it, even though there wasn’t, and that was a smell he could remember from being back in the Paras, seeing burned-out vehicles, broken tanks, their shells burning, and their human contents blackened husks inside. That was so long ago now, another lifetime, but still, the memories had a way of crawling their way back to the surface again
, like creatures that lived on the bottom of the deepest and muddiest of ponds, desperate for a glimpse of the sun.

  ‘You okay, Boss?’

  Harry gave a nod, though he didn’t turn to look at his detective sergeant.

  ‘You nod a yes, I see a no, though,’ Matt said. ‘What’s bothering you?’

  ‘What isn’t?’ Harry said.

  ‘I know, it does all seem a bit odd,’ Matt said, ‘but my guess is it’s all just a bit tragic really. That’s the way life is, sometimes, isn’t it? Horrible, I know, but we’ll deal with it and help the family as best as we can.’

  Harry wanted to agree with Matt, he really did, but he just couldn’t.

  ‘You’re right, I know,’ he said, ‘but there’s something niggling about all this, just at the back of it all.’

  ‘Is that a hunch rearing its ugly head?’ Matt asked.

  ‘Not yet. Well, not exactly, no,’ Harry said. ‘But it just strikes me as a rather odd collection of events, when they’re all stacked up alongside each other, that’s all. They all seem to make sense, with one thing leading to another, but still . . .’

  Harry’s voice faded, because he just couldn’t explain what his thoughts were doing right at that moment, other than busying themselves with getting in the way of each other.

  ‘Is there anything else?’ Matt asked.

  ‘There’s the sheep thing,’ Harry said. ‘I mean, it was all very educational going around the mart, but what did we get from it? Bugger all, is what.’

  ‘It was good of Jim’s mate, Neil, to join in,’ Matt said. ‘But you’re right, we didn’t get anything from it.’

  ‘Except a nice pile of little evidence bags filled with cigarette butts courtesy of Constable Okri,’ Harry said.

  Matt laughed. ‘It’s impossible to dislike the lad, isn’t it?’

  ‘I have to say it’s all eating at me a bit, if I’m honest,’ Harry said, his voice dropping low enough to grind itself into the tarmac at their feet. ‘The thought that somewhere, whoever did it, well, they know that they got away with it, don’t they? And that’s not right. Not only that, they’re probably planning to do exactly the same again, somewhere else.’