DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thrillers: Book 1-3

by Oliver Davies

  Alistair looked it up on his computer. “Two weeks ago,” he said and then gave us the exact date.

  Kay and I looked at each other. That wasn’t so far away from when he’d died.

  We continued to question Alistair, whose expression was subdued now. But he hadn’t talked to Graham much when he came. Graham had been busy helping prepare a meal in the kitchens and then helping to teach one of the residents. And during what talk they had engaged in, Alistair said he’d not noticed anything unusual.

  “There wasn’t anybody here who made Graham nervous? Or asked after him?”

  Alistair frowned and shrugged. “Look, we get some addicts here like every shelter, but they’re not like the media likes to make out, okay? They’re just sick people, not violent. Graham was very calm, and a lot of people here liked him.”

  “He was a good man,” I agreed.

  Alistair nodded. “You knew him?”

  “We went running together.”

  Alistair cracked a smile. “He never shut up about that damn hill running. Said it kept him out of trouble.”

  “Do you think we could speak with the resident he was teaching that day?” I asked.

  Alistair pulled a face. “I don’t know that I can remember who it was, or if they’re still here, but I’ll ask around.”

  He got up and left us in his office.

  Kay looked over at me, despondent, and I was sure I looked the same. At what point did I accept that the lack of any clues for this case meant that there was actually nothing to find? But the memory of Graham’s nosebleed and the pain on his grey face when I’d last seen him kept me from accepting it.

  Alistair came back with a young man in tow, skinny as a runner bean and with a shock of blond hair to rival Boris Johnson’s. I got up to shake his hand, and so did Kay, but the young man ignored it, his jaw set tightly.

  “What d’you want?” he demanded, not seeming to want to come any further inside than the doorway.

  “This is Lee,” Alistair said, before addressing Lee himself. “They’re just asking about Graham.”

  “What about him?”

  Kay slowly retook her seat so that she wasn’t up in Lee’s face so much in the small room.

  I leaned forwards slightly. “I’m afraid we’ve got some bad news--”

  “He’s dead?” Lee said, looking briefly shocked, and hurt, before it disappeared behind his blank mask again.

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  “Can you remember what you spoke about when you last saw him?” Kay asked.

  Lee shrugged. “Just about Maths. I hate it, but he was trying to teach me. Always right patient.”

  We asked Lee some more, but he didn’t know much and the answers he did give were short. He didn’t want to talk to the police, that was clear, but I didn’t get the impression that he was dishonest. He didn’t hesitate in giving his answers or shy away from eye contact, and it made sense, anyway, from what I’d known of Graham that he wouldn’t go spilling personal information when he was teaching.

  “Thanks for speaking to us,” I said when it was clear we weren’t going to be finding out anything new. I nodded to both Lee and Alistair. Lee slunk away right away, and Alistair gave us an apologetic shrug.

  “He hasn’t had the best time with cops,” he said.

  “We appreciate that he talked to us,” I said.

  We headed out after that, the journey back to Lockdale much quieter than the way in. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and my heart jumped when I saw a message from an unknown number. Alice.

  This is Alice Stewart, she’d texted. Any updates on the shelter?

  I saved her number and replied, We’re just on our way back. No success.

  There was a several minutes long pause before she texted back, I’m sorry to hear it.

  I had a thought. Is your dad home? It would be good if we could ask him about Graham.

  I’m not there, her next message read, but he gets back from his trip today. Try after lunch.

  Thanks. I couldn’t help but be disappointed that she wouldn’t be there.

  I sighed and sat back, thoughtful.

  “That your pretty lady?” Kay said.

  “We’re going round to talk to Lyle, Graham’s brother, after lunch,” I said, not feeling in the mood for any more of Kay’s teasing.

  She noticed and dropped her smile. “Okay. About his past, you mean?”

  I nodded.

  “What about Hogan?” she asked hesitantly.

  I sighed. “We’ll get to the other cases after, I swear.”

  Kay looked doubtful but didn’t argue with me, to my relief.

  We stopped at the station only long enough for Kay to grab her packed lunch, carefully made by her wife, and for me to run down to the shops to grab a sandwich and a pack of McCoy's crisps.

  We ate in the car before driving over to Lyle Stewart’s house.

  “I can’t believe Anna cuts your sandwiches into hearts,” I said, as we turned into the drive.

  Kay glared at me. “That is top secret,” she said. She wiggled her eyebrows at me. “I bet Alice would cut your sandwiches into hearts if you two ever get beyond the pining phase.”

  I flushed. “I’m a workaholic who prefers running up hills to talking to people. Why’d she want that?”

  Kay elbowed me in the side, almost making me swerve into one of the Stewarts’ expensive-looking plant pots.

  “Kay!” I said.

  “You were stupid,” she said, but she did look a little sheepish. “Of course she wants you, you blind idiot.”

  I got out of the car, effectively ending the conversation.

  Lyle looked like he was expecting us when we came to the door.

  “Alice said you’d be round,” he said. “She’s over at Sarah’s, keeping an eye on her. Poor woman.”

  He offered us tea and sat up down in the lounge. “So what can I do for you?”

  “Is it correct that Graham was homeless during his teenage years?” Kay asked, more directly than I might’ve done.

  But Lyle just blinked before nodding. “Yes,” he said, his voice holding the same refined accent as Alice’s. “It was a difficult time.” He looked away from us and twisted his hands. “He ran away, you know, got into some trouble and then was too proud to come home again. He visited a bit, but he and our dad…” Lyle shook his head. “They had a big blowout about Graham’s girlfriend at the time, and Graham was, well he was fiery back then.”

  I raised an eyebrow, hardly able to imagine laid-back Graham storming away from his family.

  Lyle chuckled sadly. “Yes, he grew up a great deal.”

  “Why didn’t your dad approve of the girlfriend?”

  “Oh, her parents didn’t own land and play golf,” Lyle said, his mouth twisting. “She wasn’t the right sort, you know.”

  I huffed, unimpressed. “Did you know he’s recently been helping at a homeless shelter in York?” I asked.

  Lyle looked surprised. “I didn’t. But that sounds like him.”

  “Have you remembered anything else since your statement was taken?” Kay said.

  Lyle shook his head. Another dead-end, I thought tiredly, but not ready to give up yet.

  A thought occurred to me suddenly, as I recalled my thoughts on how the killer must have known what medicine Sarah took for her blood clots. “Graham didn’t have a cleaner, did he? Someone with access to his house?”

  Lyle frowned but shook his head again. “No, nothing like that. Graham did the cleaning, I think, with Sarah off working a lot, you know.”

  “Was there anyone else he was close to?” I asked. “There was Sarah, and the family, and his friends at the pub,” I ticked them off my fingers. “Was there anyone else? Anyone from the past, maybe?”

  Lyle pulled an apologetic face. “He didn’t really socialise much. He went running with you, drinking with his friends and visited us a bit, but other than that…” He shrugged. “He was a loner.”

  I rubbed my temples.r />
  “Can I get you a cup of tea?” Lyle offered, clearly sensing mine and Kay’s frustration.

  “That’d be good,” Kay said. “Black coffee for him, if you’ve got it.”

  Lyle stepped away and left us alone.

  “I don’t see what else we can do with the second postmortem not back yet,” Kay said cautiously.

  “I know,” I said, defeated. “We’ll do the other cases this afternoon.”

  Lyle came abruptly back into the room, no mugs in hand. “I just had a thought,” he said, and both Kay and I sat up, “you said about access to his house?”

  I waved a hand. “Go on.”

  “You’ve looked into that break-in he had? It was about three weeks before he died, perhaps more.”

  I felt a jolt go through me and stood up, unable to keep still. “A break-in?”

  “Aw Christ,” Kay muttered.

  I turned to look at her, still sitting down on the sofa. She looked awfully guilty.

  “Kay?” I said slowly. Lyle looked between us uncomfortably, before muttering about getting the drinks.

  Kay put her head in her hands. “I forgot.”

  “What?” My voice was cold and hard, even as I tried to hide it. “You dealt with--”

  “No!” Kay said. “It wasn’t my case, I was away, and Maha handled it. You were off at some running event--”

  “Tor point,” I murmured. That’d been the last competition Graham and I had done together.

  “--and it was Anna’s birthday, so Maha picked it up.” Kay sighed. “Maha told me, but I completely forgot about it.”

  I tried to rein in my frustration and wasn’t sure I entirely succeeded. “At least we know now,” I finally managed.

  Lyle came back in with drinks and sat down.

  “Did Graham have any idea who might’ve broken in?” I asked right away.

  “No,” he said.

  “There were several robberies at the time, all around Lockdale,” Kay put in quietly. “It was assumed to be random.”

  I was dying to read the incident report back at the station, and we left soon after, leaving Lyle with a business card so he could call us back if he remembered anything else.

  Did you see my dad? Alice texted me as we were driving back.

  Yeah, he was helpful, I replied, not wanting to put too much detail in the text. She was a civilian, I repeatedly had to remind myself. Is Sarah getting on alright?

  She’s strong. She’ll be alright.

  I’m glad you’re with her, I said.

  Alice sent a smiley face back, and it made my chuckle. She’d not struck me as someone who used emojis, but it was somehow endearing that she did.

  Kay didn’t smile or tease me about the texts, and I sighed.

  “It’s alright,” I said. “You’re only human. It’s easy to-”

  “Oh shut up,” she said, and then flushed. “Sorry. It was my fault. You don’t have to make excuses for me.”

  “Alright then,” I said, smiling a little and after a minute she returned it.

  Back at the station, with Lexi pressed up against my legs and making an admirable heater, Maha explained what had happened.

  “There were five break-ins,” she said, “all in the space of a week or so. We didn’t manage to nail anyone for it. None of the houses had cameras or CCTV nearby because they were all remote. There weren’t any fingerprints left, and none of the stuff taken has resurfaced on the internet to be sold.”

  This wasn’t sounding as promising as I’d hoped and I chewed my lip. “Did you get anything from Graham’s?” I asked. “Anything left behind?”

  Maha shuffled through the files on her computer while Kay and I sat around her desk. “There was a footprint,” she said. “Not clear, because there was rain after--”

  “What size?” I demanded.

  Maha blinked at my tone but turned back to the screen. “It was smudged like I said, but it was smaller than an average man’s.” I felt my heart rate speed up. “The guess was about a size seven.”

  I released a breath of disappointment. That was much too small.

  “There was a footprint outside Graham’s after he was killed,” I said despondently, “but it was much bigger, a man’s size.” Still, Maha pulled up the relevant file for the bootprint that’d been found when Graham’s house had been burgled, and I leaned round to look. It was definitely too small, even if it was smudged.

  Turning back to Maha, I said, “What was taken?”

  Maha shrugged. “Not a whole lot. Mr Stewart’s laptop and some of Mrs Stewart’s jewellery. He reported it in, and we came out, photographed some things and looked for fingerprints in the usual places, but we didn’t find much of anything.”

  I rubbed my head. “The intruder could’ve done more. They could’ve swapped something, or gone looking around, or…” I trailed off.

  A thought occurred to me, and I felt slightly sick. I remembered that Alice hadn’t had an alibi for the day when Graham died, she’d been studying. I’d all but ruled that out, because of the difficulty of her getting out of the garden unseen, but then there was also the money she was set to receive from Graham’s will. Now this woman-sized footprint. My stomach felt tight and uncomfortable, and I hated that the thought had even crossed my mind. I couldn’t believe that Alice had anything to do with it and yet… what kind of a detective was I if I didn’t follow every possible lead?

  “We need to go and see Alice,” I said.

  Twelve

  Kay turned to look at me after my announcement, before blanching at the grim expression on my face.

  “No way,” she said, clearly joining up the dots and putting the footprint together with my saying Alice’s name. “Darren, you can’t think?” she said, frowning at me. “There’s no connection between this break-in and his death.”

  I shrugged helplessly, feeling awful about it. “We have to check,” I said miserably. “The two events happened relatively close together.”

  She rubbed a hand over her short, brown hair, patting it down. Finally, she nodded.

  Maha looked between us, clearly confused. I couldn’t find it in myself to explain it to her, and it wasn’t really need-to-know information.

  “Can you follow up on the Leeds postmortem?” I asked her before waving my hand with a grimace. “Between all the other work you’ve been doing.”

  “Doing brilliantly,” Kay added warmly, and I nodded. Maha had been picking up a lot of slack whilst Kay and I were running all over Yorkshire trying to get this thing figured out.

  Maha smiled a little, her cheeks darkening. “Sure, no problem.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Kay and I headed back out into the cold. It wasn’t raining today, but winter was still coming on hard. I thought about whether I’d have time for a run this evening before it got too dark. I loved the thrill of mountain running, but it veered from unsafe to insanely stupid to go out in the dark and cold, on your own, and with the very real possibility of sleet or snow once I got up high.

  The prospect of having to work the cases we’d been neglecting after finishing following this up with Alice meant it wasn’t looking like I’d get back before dark. I sighed.

  “It won’t be her,” Kay reassured me, misreading my sigh.

  “I know,” I said, more confident than I felt. I was ninety-five per cent sure it wasn’t her, but there was always the tiny corner of my mind that asked ‘what if?’ and it was that that plagued me.

  It was strange to see Graham’s house again, after what seemed like a long time away. It stood as steady and stoic as ever, the sandstone the same honeyed yellow that was used all over Yorkshire.

  Sarah came outside as we pulled up in the lane, dressed in a thick coat with her short, mousy brown hair done neatly. She looked more like herself.

  “Afternoon,” I said as I got out of the car.

  She nodded to us, not looking overly pleased that we were here. And why should she? We were just a painful reminder of what she’d
lost, and the uncertainty still surrounding her husband’s death. Graham wasn’t settled in the ground yet because of the second postmortem.

  Still, she invited us in for tea, Alice already putting the kettle on to boil as we came into the kitchen. I couldn’t help but hesitate when I’d passed through the hall, with the memory of Graham lying there as vivid as if it’d only happened an hour ago.

  “How’re you getting on?” Kay said, after a silence that was verging on uncomfortable.

  Sarah sighed. “Oh you know,” she said, her hands curled around her cup of tea.

  Alice set my coffee down in front of me, and I smiled at her until I remembered why we were here and looked back down at the table.

  “Have you gotten any further?” Sarah asked. “When will we be able to have the funeral?”

  I held back a wince at the two questions I couldn’t answer. “I’m afraid we’re still waiting on the postmortem from Leeds,” I said. “They should be done any day now.”

  She pressed her lips together tightly and fell silent. I thought that our visit was doing more harm than good and excused myself to go to the loo.

  In the hall, I checked behind me that the others were still in the kitchen and then picked up one of the pairs of shoes in the rack by the door. A pair of dark red pumps were clearly Alice’s, and I checked the size. A six. Too small, I thought hopefully. Just to be certain, I checked Sarah’s too, but hers were even smaller, a size five, since she was several inches shorter than Alice and a good bit rounder too.

  After going to the loo, the coffee catching up with me, I headed back to the kitchen and almost walked straight into Alice as she was coming out of the kitchen.

  “Oh! Sorry!” she said, clearly flustered.

  I cleared my throat and stepped back from where we’d come practically nose to nose. “Didn’t see you there,” I said.

  She laughed quietly and retreated back into the kitchen, and I followed her.

  “Thought you might’ve gotten lost,” she said, giving me a shrewd look. I was glad I’d checked the shoes on the way to the loo and not the way back, or she might’ve seen me, and I hadn’t a single clue what I might’ve said if she had.

  “Nope,” I said, and she let it drop, though I could tell she was wondering whether I’d been snooping around, which I had. But I couldn’t have asked them both for their shoe sizes without receiving about a hundred other questions, and I knew Alice would put it together all too fast. I liked her, and I didn’t want her thinking that I actually suspected her, because I didn’t. I was just thorough.