‘Our presence might have done something though, right?’ Matt suggested. ‘Seeing us around and that, it might have spooked them, if they were there, made them think again about having a go at another farm.’
Harry’s response was a low rumbling growl.
‘You’re right about all of that,’ Matt said, ‘but there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there? I’m sure of it. I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘No, there’s nothing else,’ Harry said.
‘Bollocks, there’s nothing else,’ Matt said, then he caught himself and apologised. ‘Shit, sorry, Boss, I didn’t mean to be—’
‘It’s alright,’ Harry said. ‘No offence taken. Just speaking your mind, and I appreciate that.’
‘Then what is it?’ Matt asked. ‘I’ve known you long enough now, so don’t go thinking you can pull the wool over my eyes, because you can’t. And you’d best be out with it before I get Fly out here to lick it out of you. Or worse, I’ll call Jadyn out here and I’ll tell him that you’ve a secret and that it’s down to him to find out what it is. Reckon you can handle that? All the questions? The relentless enthusiasm? He won’t stop either, you know that, don’t you? He’ll be on at you all day.’
Harry couldn’t help himself and laughed. ‘God no, anything but that.’
‘Well, then?’ Matt pressed again. ‘What is it?’
Harry breathed deep. ‘It’s about the job.’
‘What job?’ Matt asked, cutting Harry off before he could say any more. ‘Your job? What about it? Swift giving you hassle, is he? That’s not on, not by a long shot. You’re brilliant. You’ve fitted in right well with the team, too. And—’
‘No, it’s not that,’ Harry said. ‘But I have been speaking to Swift and Firbank, my DSup down in Bristol. And you know I was away, after the funeral, right? Well, you see—’
Harry was about to tell Matt about the interview, about how it did or didn’t go, because really he wasn’t sure, and he had been told that he wouldn’t hear for a few days anyway, when Jadyn crashed out of the community centre doors.
‘Good grief, lad!’ Matt said. ‘Are you trying to break the door off at the hinges?’
‘There’s a call in,’ Jadyn said. ‘For Harry, I mean Grimm, I mean, there’s a call for you, Boss. Inside. On the phone. Because that’s where calls come from, isn’t it? Phones?’
Jadyn stopped talking as much to his own relief as Harry and Matt’s.
‘He’s good at the details, I’ll give him that.’ Matt laughed. ‘But don’t think you’ve escaped, Boss. I want to know, right? Whatever it is. That’s how things work round here, just in case you were wondering.’
Harry followed Jadyn back into the office and picked up the phone.
‘Grimm.’
‘It’s Rebecca Sowerby,’ said the voice at the other end. ‘How are things in Wensleydale?’
‘A bit strange, if I’m honest,’ Harry said, never really sure as to how best to speak to the pathologist. When they’d first met, they’d not exactly got on, but over the months that initial loathing had thawed into something that resembled mutual respect and toleration. ‘And I’m hoping that what you’re about to tell me puts an end to it and wraps everything up nice and neatly.’
‘Oh,’ said Rebecca.
‘That’s not a good start now, is it?’ Harry sighed. ‘Come on then, best get this told so that we can deal with it accordingly. What have you got?’
‘I suggest you sit down.’
‘I already am,’ Harry said, pulling out a chair and slumping down into it. As he did so, Fly slinked over and ducked his head against Harry’s thigh. Harry reached out and scratched the dog’s head. He glanced up to see the rest of the team staring at him, expectation in their eyes. He then pulled out his notebook and a pencil. ‘Go on then, what have we got?’
‘Well, I’ve been in touch with the fire investigators,’ Rebecca said. ‘I needed to have a good understanding of what had happened, what they’d found, that kind of thing. They’re putting a report together anyway and that will be to you in just a few minutes I suspect.’
‘And?’ Harry said.
‘And it looks as though the fire was started deliberately.’
‘That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear,’ Harry said, jotting down notes as Rebecca spoke.
‘It’s not exactly what anyone wants to hear, I’m sure,’ Rebecca replied.
‘So, what do they think happened?’ Harry asked.
‘Well, it all ties in with what I’ve found,’ Rebecca said. ‘Obviously, the body was in a very poor state after the fire, but I can confirm that the deceased was James Fletcher.’
‘That’s something, anyway,’ Harry said. ‘And the fire or the smoke I’m assuming killed him?’
‘Yes,’ Rebecca said, ‘but only because he was unconscious at the time. There’s was an awful lot of alcohol in his system.’
‘Drowning his sorrows, I should think, the poor sod,’ Harry said. ‘And who can blame him?’
‘There wasn’t enough to have him so unconscious that he wouldn’t wake up in a fire, though,’ Rebecca said.
‘So, what was it, then?’ Harry asked.
‘A sleeping agent of some kind,’ Rebecca said. ‘Not sure what specific drug as yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as I can, assuming that I can, obviously.’
‘So, he mixed sleeping tablets and alcohol,’ Harry said.
‘Yes, and also no,’ Rebecca replied. ‘We’ve found nothing to suggest that he actually swallowed tablets.’
‘But you just said—’ Harry began, but Rebecca cut him off.
‘I said sleeping agent, not tablet. If there are tablets, then they were most likely crushed first and mixed with the alcohol he was drinking.’
This immediately had Harry worried. He’d met James and although he was clearly suffering from the stress of losing his wife and dealing with it in a way that hadn’t struck Harry as entirely normal, the man hadn’t come across as the kind of person who would go to the trouble of what Rebecca was suggesting. It all seemed very much out of character.
‘So, he’s somehow unconscious,’ Harry said, ‘and then his shed burns down. How?’
‘Investigators found the stove door open,’ Rebecca said. ‘A spark or a piece of burning wood could have fallen out onto the floor. As we both know, domestic fires start very easily. It doesn’t take much. They think he was in a chair by the stove when the fire started.’
‘But what you’re suggesting is that he took his own life,’ Harry said.
‘I’m not actually suggesting anything at all,’ Rebecca said, and Harry heard the bristles in her voice for the first time since she’d called. ‘I’m simply giving you the facts. The stove door was open. A fire started. But they believe an accelerant was used. As do I.’
Harry could feel the world around him crushing in, as the information he was now taking onboard served only to turn the day dark.
‘You mean petrol?’
‘Not this time,’ Rebecca said. ‘The fire started at the stove, with its open door. It spread rapidly across the body of the deceased, who is believed to have been sitting in front of it.’
‘It was where his wife used to go and sit,’ Harry said, remembering what James had said about the chair by the stove.
‘The fire is centred around the stove and the body and the chair the deceased was sitting in at the time,’ Rebecca continued. ‘It looks as though the body and the area around it were soaked in something and then set alight.’
‘And by having it near the stove, it would all look like an unfortunate accident,’ Harry said.
‘We’ve found alcohol residue in the remains of the clothing he was wearing,’ Rebecca said.
Harry rubbed his eyes till he saw sparks. ‘It could all still be an accident though, couldn’t it?’ Harry said. ‘None of this actually points to something more deliberate.’
‘I’ve given you the facts,’ Rebecca said. ‘James Fletcher was unconscious, through a
mix of alcohol and drugs. The fire started at the stove, the door open. James Fletcher was, for whatever reason, unconscious in front of said fire, his clothes soaked in alcohol. I can only assume that a rather large log fell out of the stove and was still alight, because trying to get clothes to burn, even with a good dousing of alcohol, is not easy at all.’
‘God Almighty.’ Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes again, this time even harder, like he was trying to push them out of the back of his skull.
‘Anyway, I’d best be going,’ Rebecca said. ‘I’ll send my report through now.’
Harry said his goodbyes and put down the phone.
‘Well?’ Matt said.
‘Well indeed,’ Harry said, and looked at the rest of his team, wondering if he was already developing a headache from what he’d just learned. ‘I’m assuming you all got the gist of all of that, what the pathologist was saying, am I right?’
Everyone nodded.
‘So, did he kill himself or not?’ Jadyn asked.
‘That’s a good question, Constable,’ Harry said. ‘A very good question.’ He then handed Jadyn his notebook.
‘For the board?’ Jadyn asked.
‘Yes,’ Harry said, ‘though you might want to tidy it up a bit.’
Jadyn’s face fell.
‘By which I mean,’ Harry said, not wanting to dent his enthusiasm, ‘you’ve got a lot of information on there, which is great, but I think you might just need to step back a bit and have a look at it and maybe work out a way to present it more clearly.’
Jadyn did exactly as Harry had suggested.
‘It’s a right mess, isn’t it, Boss?’
‘It is,’ Harry said.
‘Looks like alphabetti spaghetti.’
With Jadyn now occupied with redoing everything he’d just done, Harry looked back to the rest of his team.
‘Right now,’ he said, ‘I’m thinking we’ve a proper mess to be dealing with. And the only way to clear up any mess, it to just get stuck in and started on it, otherwise it’ll still be a mess tomorrow.’
‘So, where do we start?’ Jim asked.
Harry thought for a moment, thinking back over the last couple of weeks, running through what had happened and what he’d just been told.
‘It’s not just where, it’s how,’ Harry said. ‘Matt?’
‘Boss?’
‘Time to get that Action Book out.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
As Harry had driven back up the lane to Black Moss House, he’d noticed how the fells behind the place had taken on a more foreboding air than when he’d last seen them. The weather was coming in now, and it was bringing with it the first breath of winter, icy cold, and rolling in front of it was a fearsome storm, pushing it down the hills towards the house.
As Harry climbed out of his car, the storm hit, whipping rain at him like chains on a wheel, but it wasn’t enough to rid the air completely of the acrid stench from the burned-out cabin.
Harry took a moment to have a look around the remains, pulling up his collar against the rain. It was a ruined thing now, grey with ash, with black bones of burned wood sticking out. And it was where James Fletcher had died. Harry knew the man had been unconscious, but he still wondered if James had known what was happening, if the agony his body would have felt as the flames took hold had somehow reached down into his subconscious, tried to wake him, and failed.
Turning back to the house, Harry walked over to where Matt was standing with Jen and Jadyn, at the back door of the house, waiting for him.
‘It’s properly coming in now, isn’t it?’ Matt said. ‘Reckon it’s settling in for the day as well.’
‘More likely the whole week,’ Jadyn said.
‘Then let’s get ourselves inside,’ Harry said and knocked at the door, which opened soon after.
Ruth Fletcher stood staring at them and Harry wondered what she looked like when she wasn’t exhausted and burned out from the sorrow and the tears.
‘Yes?’ Ruth said.
‘Can we come in, please?’ Harry said. ‘There’s something we need to discuss.’
‘Is there?’ Ruth said, and Harry saw not just the pain in the woman’s eyes and the exhaustion, but confusion, too. ‘What? And why are there so many of you? What’s this about? What’s going on?’
‘Please,’ Harry said. ‘If it’s okay? I know this is a really difficult time, but this is important.’
Ruth stepped back from the door and Harry followed Matt inside, with Jen and then Jadyn coming in behind. Ruth closed the door and Harry was struck for a moment by the sudden soft quietness of the house, the wind and rain silenced by the thick wood and walls now between them and the storm.
‘Through here,’ Ruth said, and she led Harry and the others down the hallway and into the lounge.
‘Is the rest of the family here?’ Harry asked as they stepped into the room. It was a cold space, and gloomy, but there was the faint sweet smell of an open fire in the air.
‘Yes,’ Ruth said. ‘Well, Pat and Dan are. Anthony’s at school today. I said he should stay home, after what had happened, but he insisted on going. I think he just wanted to keep busy, you know? Rather than just sit around and dwell on it all.’
‘That makes sense,’ Harry said. ‘If you could fetch Pat and Dan, though, that would be very helpful. But we will need to speak to your son as well, after school.’
‘You’ve not said why you’re here yet, though,’ Ruth said. ‘Or why there’s four of you.’
Harry saw the worry in Ruth’s eyes, but he didn’t want to say anything until they were all together. He hadn’t called to announce their arrival for the same reason, not with what it was they now had to discuss.
‘Please, if you could just get Pat and Dan, that would be great,’ Matt said.
Ruth left the room, confusion and worry sketching lines into her already weary face. A moment or two later, Patricia entered the room and Harry was put in mind of a sleek, grey racing yacht, shoving its way through to the front. Dan, her husband, followed after.
‘I can’t say that it’s good to see you,’ Dan said. ‘And I’ve a horrible feeling that whatever this is about, it’s certainly not going to be anything to make me change that view, is it?’
‘It’s probably best if everyone sits down,’ Matt said, and he gestured at the sofas and chairs which Harry then noticed were all pulled into a circle around a coffee table.
Patricia said nothing and immediately set about rearranging the chairs.
‘Well, come on, Dan,’ she said. ‘We can’t have them like this, can we? Not after last night!’
As Dan helped, Ruth entered the room carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, which she set down on the table.
Once Patricia had finished, Harry took a seat and the others followed his lead. Ruth poured out the drinks and passed around the biscuits.
‘Can we just get on with this, please?’ Patricia said. ‘It’s not like today isn’t bad enough already without all of this, too. Not that we know what all of this actually is.’
Dan said, ‘I’m sure that whatever the police are here about, it’s important.’
‘It is,’ Harry said. ‘And it’s about James, your father.’
At this, Harry saw three pairs of eyes all sweep around to stare at him, wide and fearful. The eyes of his officers were all sat in faces impassive and professionally expectant, because they knew why they were here and what was to come next.
‘What?’ Ruth asked. ‘What about Dad? What now? How could there be anything else?’
Harry explained then that he had spoken with the pathologist and that they had received an initial report from the fire scene investigators.
‘We know how he died and why,’ Patricia said. ‘Dad was upset, and I think that bloody séance just pushed him over the edge. God knows why we agreed to it. But he wasn’t right after it, none of us were. And he must have just headed out to that shed of his, drunk too much, and never woken up. That’s all there is to it. Smoke,
I would assume, then the fire. It’s terrible, but that’s it.’
‘He burned to death!’ Ruth spat, turning on her sister. ‘Dad burned to death! That’s what happened, Pat! How can you be so, so you about it all? So bloody cold and matter of fact?’
‘I’m not being anything about it!’ Pat said. ‘I’m just saying what happened! Dad did a stupid thing and we have to sort everything out now, don’t we? Have you thought about that? Have you? This house? The will? Everything!’
Harry watched as Dan rested a hand on his wife’s knee, but she knocked it off.
‘And don’t you go thinking that helps!’ she snapped, glaring at Dan.
Harry had seen exactly these reactions before, relatives unable to deal with the grief they were feeling, confronted by more terrible news. The brain just wasn’t designed to take it all in and people lashed out.
Dan edged away just a little from Patricia.
‘I think it’s best if we all just calm down for a moment,’ Harry said. ‘What I’ve got to tell you, well, it’s not easy to deal with I’m afraid. And we will need to speak to you all separately about it, just so that we can all be clear about a few things.’
‘What do you mean?’ Patricia said. ‘You’re starting to make it sound like this already truly awful thing that happened is actually much worse.’
That’s because it is, Harry thought, and after a long, slow breath in and out, said, ‘Your father died in the fire. That much you know. And we really are truly sorry for your loss. Particularly after the loss of your mum. You’ve all had a rough time of it and we really don’t want to add to what you’re going through. However—’
‘However?’ Patricia said. ‘You say all of that and finish with however? Just get to the point will you!’
Harry glanced at Matt, who was sitting opposite him, hands together, then said, ‘Although we’re unable to give you the exact details, for obvious reasons, we now have reason to believe that James’, your father’s death, was suspicious.’
Restless Dead (Harry Grimm Book 5) Page 17