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Restless Dead (Harry Grimm Book 5)

Page 22

by David J Gatward


  ‘Then they would’ve been crushed up first and mixed with the alcohol he was drinking,’ Gordy said.

  ‘Like a whisky, for example,’ said Matt.

  ‘Exactly like a whisky,’ Harry said, and was up and out of the door before anyone could stop him, Matt chasing after him.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ‘I know you don’t want to meet up with Swift,’ Matt said, as Harry swung the car over the bridge out of Appersett and on towards Black Moss House. ‘Who does? But do you really need to drive like Jen to make sure of it?’

  ‘There’s nowt wrong with my driving,’ Harry said.

  ‘There’s another for the tally,’ Matt said.

  The road was slick with water from a shower that had shot through the valley and Harry knew that he was pushing it as the tyres slipped a little.

  ‘How many am I up to?’

  ‘Well,’ Matt said, ‘you’re about halfway between Oh, I say and Ee ba gum.’

  ‘Was that you attempting to do a southern accent?’ Harry asked.

  ‘There’s nowt wrong with my Queen’s English,’ Matt said.

  ‘No, there isn’t,’ Harry said, ‘but I’m from Bristol, remember? Somerset? I’m about as likely to say Oh, I say as I am to order caviar and champagne next time we go to the pub!’

  ‘I thought everyone was posh down south,’ Matt said.

  ‘Trust me,’ Harry said, ‘if you come from a place where you ask directions with the words where’s that to, then? I can assure you that the very last thing everyone is, is posh.’

  Matt pointed ahead. ‘There it is, Black Moss House.’

  Harry saw that clouds were gathering on the hills behind the house, a thick gloom of grey and black, and beneath it the wispy ropes of rain thrashing against the earth below. He indicated off the main road and onto the lane leading up behind the house.

  ‘You know, I’ve spent my whole life wondering what this house was like inside,’ Matt said, as Harry pulled the car to a stop, ‘and now, all I can think of is that I hope I’ll never have to see inside it ever again.’

  ‘It’s quite a place, though,’ Harry said, climbing out of the car and smelling the rain in the air.

  ‘It is,’ Matt agreed, ‘but a bit too grand for the likes of us, I think.’

  ‘And what do you mean by that?’ Harry asked.

  ‘No, you’re right,’ Matt said. ‘If there’s one thing about you I’ve noticed since you arrived here, it’s that what you really hanker for is a massive house with a dozen bedrooms. Probably because it’s all you talk about.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ Harry said, then nodded at the huge sweep of fells behind Matt. ‘Best we get in before that hits.’

  The rain was falling unbothered by wind, just thick planks of the stuff falling to the ground, and Harry could see it approaching, marching almost, across the fields.

  ‘Weird when it’s like that, isn’t it?’ Matt said. ‘I mean, what’s that, probably no more than a couple of hundred metres away, is it? And it’s pouring down. And yet here we are, over here, bone dry.’

  ‘We won’t be in about thirty seconds,’ Harry said. ‘Come on.’

  At the back door, Matt stepped forward to knock. ‘What approach are we going for?’ he asked.

  ‘This is further questioning,’ Harry said. ‘But I want him back at the interview room in Hawes.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Matt said. ‘And you’re sure you don’t want to arrest him?’

  ‘Not enough to go on,’ Harry said. ‘Not yet, anyway. Which is why we need him over in Hawes.’

  Matt knocked at the door as Harry’s phone rang.

  ‘Should’ve left it in the car,’ Matt said.

  ‘And I should’ve left it on silent and vibrate,’ Harry said, and held up the screen for Matt to see.

  ‘You’d best answer that,’ he said.

  Harry walked away from the door and lifted the phone to his ear. ‘Good morning, sir,’ he said.

  ‘Grimm,’ Swift said, ‘did you not get my message that I was on my way over?’

  ‘I did, yes,’ Grimm said, ‘but something rather urgent came up.’

  ‘More urgent than your future?’

  Harry didn’t really know what to say to that, so went with, ‘Are you at the office now, sir?’

  ‘I am,’ Swift said. ‘And as you know, I’m not a fan of wasting my time. How long will you be?’

  ‘Hopefully not too long,’ Harry said. ‘Just bringing someone in for questioning.’

  ‘Then I’ll stay here and wait for you.’

  ‘You don’t have to, sir,’ Grimm said. ‘Can you not just tell me what this is about now?’

  ‘Well, it’s probably best that we talk face-to-face and in private,’ Swift said. ‘That is why I’ve driven over here in the first place, after all.’

  ‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ Harry said.

  ‘I’m very sure that you will,’ Swift replied and hung up.

  Harry made it back over to Matt just in time for the rain to hit, the door to swing open, and in its place, Dan standing and staring at them.

  ‘Quick, get yourselves inside,’ Dan said, as the rain fell against the side of the house, the huge drops thundering down to kick up crowns of dirt.

  Harry followed Matt into the house and Dan closed the door behind them.

  ‘That’s come in pretty suddenly,’ Dan said. ‘Didn’t think it was even forecast till later. But that’s the dales for you, right? The only consistent thing about the weather is that it’s inconsistent!’

  Dan laughed then and Harry wasn’t really sure what to do with his face, so he just left it as it was, not that it really helped.

  ‘So, how can I help?’ Dan asked. ‘Pat’s just nipped round to check up on Ruth. She was very upset yesterday. But everyone is, aren’t they? I think everything just came crashing down on her, you know? Pat’s worried it’s a nervous breakdown. And she told us about Anthony as well, how he’s been skipping school? Poor lad. He’s gone today, though, so that’s good, isn’t it?’

  ‘We’d like you to accompany us to the station,’ Harry said, if only to stop the man from rambling on anymore, though referring to the rooms they used at the community centre in Hawes as a station was pushing it a bit, he thought.

  ‘What, all of us?’ Dan asked. ‘I’ll go and get Pat and Ruth.’

  As Dan made to move, Harry held up a hand to stop him.

  ‘No, just you, if you wouldn’t mind?’ he said.

  Dan stopped dead.

  ‘I’m sorry, what?’

  ‘Just need to ask you a few more questions,’ Matt said. ‘So, if you could come with us now, it would be very much appreciated.’

  Listening to Matt, it struck Harry then, just how strangely polite the police often were when dealing with crime of almost any kind. He’d lost count of the number of people he’d arrested more through polite discourse than persuasive action. Though, on a lot of those occasions he was sure that he would have felt considerably better using actions rather than words.

  ‘Are you arresting me?’ Dan asked. ‘I thought I’d answered all your questions! What’s this about? I don’t understand!’

  ‘It’ll be easier for us to explain things over in Hawes,’ Harry said.

  ‘Why?’ Dan asked. ‘Why do we have to go there? You’re arresting me, aren’t you?’

  ‘Please, Mr Hurst,’ Matt said. ‘It really is best for everyone if you just come along with us now.’

  Dan started to back away.

  ‘Mr Hurst,’ Harry said. ‘Dan . . . Please don’t make this difficult.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.’

  ‘There’s really no need for this,’ Harry said.

  ‘You’re absolutely right, there isn’t!’ Dan replied, taking another step away from Harry and Matt. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong!’

  ‘If that’s the case, then this really won’t take long at all,’ Matt said. ‘Now, come on, Mr Hurst. No m
ore of this nonsense.’

  For a moment, Dan stared at Harry and Matt, and Harry was almost hopeful that they were going to get him into the car with no more bother. Then the man spun on his heels and bolted.

  ‘Bollocks!’ Harry shouted and with Matt on his heels, chased after Dan down the hallway, only to see the man slip on the floor as a rug went from under him and sent him flying through a door with a painful yell.

  Harry leapt after him only to land in the space where Dan had been and see the door slam shut, cracking him hard on the head.

  Harry roared in pain as Matt reached down and pulled him to his feet.

  ‘You okay, Boss?’ Matt asked.

  ‘No, I’m bloody well not!’ Harry hissed through gritted teeth, rubbing his head.

  ‘That looked sore.’

  ‘Felt it, too,’ Harry said. ‘And it looks like we’ll be changing our plan and arresting him after all,’ he added. ‘For assaulting a police officer!’

  Matt thumped his hand against the door.

  ‘Mr Hurst? You need to stop this now. Just open this door and come with us back to Hawes. You don’t want to make it any worse for yourself.’

  From the other side of the door, Harry heard furniture being dragged across the floor. He pushed against the door and felt it give a little everywhere other than right at the top.

  ‘Nowt like running away to make the police suspicious,’ Matt said.

  Harry looked up at the top of the door. ‘Must be a latch or a bolt up there.’

  ‘Really?’ Matt said. ‘Why?’

  ‘Old house,’ Harry said. ‘Rooms change use over the years. Maybe it was a private study at some point.’

  ‘Never thought of that,’ Matt said.

  ‘Only just thought of it myself.’ Harry shrugged and pushed against the door again.

  ‘You thinking what I think you’re thinking?’ Matt asked.

  ‘We need to get in there now,’ Harry said. ‘He can’t actually go anywhere, because the only way out other than this door are the windows out to the front, but I don’t want him doing himself a mischief. He’s in a panic and the last thing we need right now is our key suspect hurting himself.’

  Matt leaned into the door. ‘A good shove, then?’

  Harry leaned in next to the detective sergeant. ‘After three?’

  When Harry shouted, ‘Now!’ both men heaved against the door. Harry felt enough resistance to make him think that the door was going to hold, only to have it then give way, the latch above them snapping in half, sending them both sprawling into the lounge. And there, standing on the other side of the room, panic scratched into his face, was Dan, armed with a bottle of whisky.

  Chapter Thirty

  ‘Probably best you don’t do anything stupid, Mr Hurst,’ Matt said.

  ‘Bit late for that,’ Harry muttered, then said, ‘Whatever you’re thinking of doing with that bottle of whisky, I suggest you unthink it, and quickly.’

  ‘I’ll throw it!’ Dan said. ‘I will!’

  ‘And you’ll miss,’ Harry said. ‘But go ahead, be my guest.’

  Harry saw Matt turn to stare at him, confusion on his face.

  ‘He won’t throw it,’ Harry said. ‘He’s not a complete idiot.’

  The bottle flew between them and Harry was too surprised to say anything as it hammered into the wall and shattered.

  ‘I stand corrected,’ Harry said, then turned to face Dan. ‘Mr Hurst,’ he roared, ‘you are now under arrest for assaulting a police officer, resisting arrest, and throwing a bottle of good whisky at a wall!’

  ‘I’m not sure that last one’s actually a crime, Boss,’ Matt said.

  ‘Well, it is now!’ Harry said, and started to march over towards Dan, who had now backed himself into a corner.

  ‘Pat’s going to kill me,’ he whimpered, as Harry drew close.

  ‘I’ll be honest with you,’ Harry said, ‘I think that right now you’ve got other things to be more concerned with, don’t you?’

  ‘It was a bottle she brought with us, for her dad,’ Dan said. ‘An expensive one as well. Tasted wonderful. And I only had one glass.’

  ‘And now it’s all gone,’ Matt said, coming to stand beside Harry and pulling out a pair of handcuffs. ‘Which is a shame, I have to say. Now, on to more pressing matters, Mr Hurst. Which means, I’m afraid, that I’m going to have to read you your rights.’

  Harry stepped back as Matt did as he had said, noticing the tang of the spilled whisky in the air.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Dan said, as Matt secured the cuffs on the man’s wrists. ‘I . . . I just panicked. I didn’t mean to run. And I’m sorry about throwing the bottle. I’m a terrible shot anyway. I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

  Harry wasn’t listening. He was staring at the smashed bottle of whisky.

  ‘Come on then,’ Matt said to Dan. ‘Best we get you into the car. Boss?’

  Harry didn’t answer. He was staring at the whisky bottle and the weary matter in his head was churning now, trying to bring far too many things together at once.

  ‘Boss?’ Matt said again. ‘You okay?’

  Harry turned away from the whisky and looked at Dan. ‘What was it you just said about this whisky?’

  ‘That it is, or was, a good one,’ Dan replied.

  ‘No, not that,’ Harry said. ‘You brought it for James, yes?’

  ‘Pat did, yes,’ Dan said. ‘She’s never bought me one that good.’

  ‘And where’s Pat now?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Next door, with Ruth,’ Dan said. ‘I’m surprised she’s not back, to be honest. Perhaps Ruth is in a bad way still.’

  Harry turned and strode out of the lounge.

  ‘Boss?’ Matt called out.

  ‘You stay with Dan,’ Harry called back, breaking into a run back down the corridor. At the back door, he realised that he should’ve gone the other way, taken the front door, because it was more direct, and he skidded to a halt, knocking into a small shelf at the side of the door. Something fell off and clunked down onto the floor. It was Dan’s torch and instinctively Harry reached down to pick it up, switching it on, just to check that it still worked. The beam from the torch blasted out into his face and Harry dropped the torch, momentarily blinded.

  Swearing, and rubbing his eyes to clear them of the blotches now floating in front of them, Harry stumbled outside and into the rain, to make his way around to the cottage Ruth lived in with Anthony. It wasn’t exactly easy for him to see, either, with the rain still coming down, and the near blindness he was now temporarily suffering from thanks to the torch. And then, as he reached the front door of Ruth’s house, he remembered what Beverly had said about what she had seen the night of the séance, what she had said to Anthony as she’d left the house that night, about a bright light and the empty road.

  Harry crashed through the front door of the cottage.

  ‘Ruth? Pat?’

  No answer.

  Harry swept around downstairs, checking the lounge, the dining room, the kitchen, all empty.

  ‘Ruth?’ Harry cried again. ‘It’s DCI Grimm! Pat? We need to talk!’

  Harry moved to the stairs and started to climb. They were narrow and steep and forced him to lean a little to the right, sliding his shoulder along the wall.

  As he climbed, he thought back through everything, trying to sift through it, to make sense of it somehow, but it wasn’t easy, not by a long shot. But what had happened with Dan, with the whisky, that had set his synapses aflame, and his thoughts came at him burning hot.

  At the top of the stairs, Harry was faced with a small landing and four doors. The first door was open, leading into what was very obviously a bathroom. It was empty, he was sure, but he still checked, just in case. Then he moved on to the next room.

  ‘Ruth? Pat?’ Harry called again, and pushed open the door into another empty room. Two doors to go . . .

  Harry stood between the remaining doors. He knew that whichever one he chose,
it was going to be the wrong one. That was just the way of things, wasn’t it? So, he wasted no time, didn’t even call out, and kicked open the door to his left.

  The door burst open, hammering into the wall. Ruth was lying curled up on a double bed. At her side was a glass of water, half empty. Harry dashed over to her, checked for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there.

  ‘Ruth? Ruth! It’s Harry!’

  There was no response.

  ‘Ruth!’

  Harry pulled out his phone, punched in a call. ‘DCI Grimm! I need an ambulance here quick! Looks like an overdose!’ He then gave the address and hung up.

  ‘Ruth?’ he said, trying again. ‘It’s okay, there’s an ambulance on its way. You just hang on, okay? Don’t you go doing something stupid like dying!’

  A sound from the other bedroom, the one he hadn’t yet checked, caught Harry’s attention. He quickly put Ruth into the recovery position on the bed and was on his feet and out of the door just in time to see the shadow of a figure sweeping down the stairs. Harry reached over the bannister from the landing but caught only a snick of cloth.

  ‘Pat! Stop!’ he shouted, hauling himself around and down the stairs after the figure. ‘Just bloody well stop, will you? Stop!’

  At the bottom of the stairs Harry saw that the front door was swinging open and he charged through it, out into the rain once again. Only it was worse now, thick and heavy, and a wind had come along and was twisting it into tumbling waves, which crashed into Harry, making it difficult to see.

  Harry looked across the lawn, saw nothing, then a raw yell hacked its way through the storm and he snapped his head left, to the darkness between the two buildings, to the sunken courtyard. The rain stabbed at his face, stinging his eyes as he raced towards what he had heard, a sound of stark, violent fear. Then the sunken courtyard was in front of him and there, lying in its embrace, was the body of Patricia Fletcher, her face staring up at him, a thick pool of red spreading out from the back of her head, the rain already washing it away.

  Harry dropped down into the courtyard, fell at Patricia’s side, knew that there was no life in those eyes, but still checked, just to make sure, because that’s what you did. But there was no pulse and Patricia was gone, and Harry slumped back against the wall of the courtyard, cold and wet to the skin, as Patricia’s blood made its slow way towards him, steaming a little in the cold.

 

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