“We believe he was poisoned with rat poison.”
Maisy’s expression gave nothing away. “Go on,” she said tightly.
“His death may have been linked to a burglary several weeks before,” I said, and then hesitated.
“You know more than that.” Maisy looked at me icily. Jake still wouldn’t meet my eyes at all.
I took a risk, deciding that I needed to reveal something. “I know that your brother there,” I nodded at Jake, “tried to murder me twice with a rifle.” Jake, bristling ball of anger though he was, seemed the safer target for accusation of murder than Maisy, with her cold eyes.
Jake’s head snapped up, and he all but snarled. “You deserved it!”
I blinked. “How did I--?” I started, hot and angry, before cutting myself off sharply. I needed to think, to be rational. From Jake’s twisted point of view, perhaps I had deserved it for trying to take his sister to prison.
I put up my hands placatingly. “You’re angry at me, and maybe I did deserve it, but Maha and Sarah,” my voice cracked even as I was trying to keep it even, “they don’t deserve it.”
It was Maisy that snapped at me this time. “Quiet!”
Jake turned away, looking past me out on the hills. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought that his expression showed guilt.
“Please,” I said, “whatever you want with me--”
“You want to see them?” Maisy said suddenly. “Go on, then. Go and see what your meddling had caused.” She gestured for me to go round the side of the shelter, looking at me with a foul expression that mixed loathing with mocking.
“Go on,” she urged.
I stepped cautiously around, keeping an eye on the pair, wary of getting shot the minute I turned my back. Though I couldn’t see a weapon on either of them, they both wore large coats capable of concealing a handgun or knife. But they didn’t make to lunge at me as I moved and I inhaled sharply as I came round the side.
The shelter was closed on three sides and open on the other, shorter, side and inside was Henry, stood leaning against the wall. Behind him, further into the shadows, were two figures hunched down together near the back.
“Sarah?” I said. “Maha?” I saw movement.
“Darren?” It was Sarah’s voice, high and strained, terrified. “Darren--”
“Enough.” Henry straightened up, and Sarah fell instantly quiet. I stiffened.
“Henry Collins,” I said quietly, staring at him. He looked like a different man when he held himself straight and stared at me unflinchingly.
“Aye, it’s me, Mitchell.” He sneered my name. “My mouse impression got you good, didn’t it? Swallowed down every word.”
I gritted my teeth against my anger. That tip-off about the university friend had just been a means to delay us, and he was right, I had almost entirely believed his act. He was far more clever and manipulative than I’d given him credit for.
I heard footsteps behind me and then Jake and Maisy were at my back, effectively hemming me in between the three siblings. I warily turned towards them, trying not to put my back to Henry. The three of them were all dangerous: Henry and Maisy like snakes waiting to strike and Jake, full of anger like a bomb that might go off any minute. My heart was racing, and I felt woefully unprepared for this.
But I needed to know the truth, and before I could stop myself, I said, “You planned it, didn’t you?”
Henry stared evenly back at me. “Don’t know what you mean.”
I glared at him, glancing at Maisy. “Henry planned it, and one of you did it, who was it? Who?”
“He had it coming,” Jake said, his sharp words almost lost to the wind.
“Graham?” I said, incredulous. “He never hurt a fly in his-”
Jake lurched towards me and would’ve hit me across the face if I hadn’t jumped back. “Don’t lie!” he roared. “Maisy caught him, Maisy knew and you- you!”
“What?” I said, completely lost. “Graham never-”
“Be quiet,” Maisy said, firm, “both of you, shut up.”
“He hushed it up,” Jake spat, pointing a finger at me. “You knew, and you didn’t do anything. Because you were running partners, you were friends.” Spit flew from his mouth as he ranted, and I stared at him.
“I never--”
Jake spat at me, and it landed at my feet.
Maisy tried to grab her brother’s shoulder. “Jake--”
“He stole from a charity, a cancer charity, but you know that, don’t you? Maisy tried to tell you--”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake broke off, staring at me with his face red with anger, and I stared back.
“Graham never did that, never,” Sarah said, her voice vehement.
Jake twisted around. “He did! He did, and Darren covered it up, didn’t you?”
“No,” I said flatly. I was beginning to realise that it wasn’t Henry who’d been the sibling kept out of the loop, it had been Jake. “No, Graham didn’t do that, and I never covered it up.”
Jake swore at me. “You’re disgusting,” he spat. “You and him can both rot in shallow--”
“Jake!” Maisy snapped. “Just stop, stop will you?”
Jake swivelled to look at her, shaking with the force of his emotion. “What?”
Maisy looked grim, almost drawn. The light of near-triumph in her gaze when she’d glared at me had faded.
“It didn’t happen,” she said.
Jake gaped at her. “What?” he said weakly.
“You’re an idiot.” Henry looked calmly at Jake. “Too wrapped up in your sheep to see what’s right under your nose. Maisy’s bashed-up car, the timing was suspicious, wasn’t it? And then Graham Stewart. Where does he live, Jake? You’ve never used your brain, just follow along like one of your damn sheep.”
“You— What, what are you talking about?” Jake croaked.
I looked past Henry to the shelter, trying to see Maha and Sarah where they were cloaked in the shadows of the fast descending dusk. Back-up would be wondering what the hell was happening. The Collins were distracted, but when I shifted, minutely without meaning to, towards the shelter, Henry’s gaze whipped back over to focus on me.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said flatly.
“You lied to me.” Jake’s expression was pure shock, and I found myself believing it. He’d been duped, led to believe that Graham had been a thief and that I’d been corrupt.
“Did you even know they’d killed him?” I asked quietly. “Did they tell you that?”
Jake looked at me, looking lost. “It was an accident,” he said faintly. “They didn’t mean to. They were trying to make him confess, and he… fell.”
“No,” I said.
Maisy took a sudden step towards me, a knife suddenly in her hand, and my breath caught in my throat. “Not another word, Mitchell,” she said. “Listen here. You’re going to do exactly what we tell you, or those two can die in there, understand me?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to call your boss, your superior, on that radio I know you have, and you’re going to tell them you were wrong. That it was all me. I killed Graham. I hired men to hunt you on the moor.”
My gaze moved to Jake’s pale face involuntarily.
Maisy took a step nearer, her knife out in front. “You realise now it wasn’t Jake that you saw,” she continued, “and Henry wasn’t here at all. It was all me. I broke into Graham’s house. I killed him. I--” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed, “I killed Freddie.”
There’d been no flicker of guilt in her eyes when she mentioned Graham, but she briefly broke my gaze when she spoke of Freddie. She felt guilty for that, that was why she wanted to take the fall and spare her brothers. How she didn’t feel guilt for the deliberate murder of an innocent man, but she did for an accident, I didn’t understand.
She straightened. “You do that, and those two can walk out of here.”
Henry moved slightly, drawing
my attention. His gaze unnerved me. “You break your word, and they’ll die,” he told me, absolute. “Even if all three of us are locked up, they’ll end up dead. Hit by a car, maybe.” A rush of cold passed down my spine as I thought of my near-miss with the Land Rover. Henry had been driving, then, not Maisy. “Think of precious Alice, Mitchell,” Henry said, almost taunting. “You two are close, aren’t you?”
“Henry,” Jake said. His brother didn’t look at him, and neither did Maisy.
“Alright,” I agreed. “I will. I’ll call and tell them. Please can I see them, first?” I nodded towards the shelter.
“Make the call,” Maisy said.
I nodded, swallowing, pulling my radio from my belt. “Gaskell it’s Mitchell, over.”
“Mitchell, how-”
I cut Gaskell off before he could say anything I didn’t want the Collins to hear. “I have Maisy Collins here, sir. She’s confessed to everything, over.” I stared at Maisy as I spoke.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “And her brothers? Over.”
“Jake Collins is here, I made a mistake, it wasn’t him on the moor. Henry Collins isn’t here, over,” I said while looking directly at him. Hatred squirmed in my stomach, and from the very slight smile that Henry gave me, I knew he could tell.
“Ahmed and Sarah Stewart?” Gaskell said.
“They’re safe. Maisy is willing to be taken in, over.” I couldn’t bear the thought of Henry walking away from this. That I’d have to live like Graham had, forced to keep the identity of a killer a secret because I feared for others’ lives.
I lowered the radio. “He looked after Freddie’s mother,” I told Maisy quietly. “He visited her every day and listened to her ask for her grandson. He was a good man.”
Maisy just looked at me for a long moment, and just as she opened her mouth to say something, all hell broke loose.
“You murderer!” Jake screamed, launching himself at Maisy so suddenly that I stumbled back and almost lost my footing.
Jake was significantly taller and heavier than Maisy, and yet she fought back when he tried to tackle her to the ground. Even after he’d yanked the knife from her hand and thrown it far away, where it was lost in the gorse. I dragged my head into focus and took advantage of the distraction, jabbing the button on my radio even as I raced forwards towards Henry.
“Now, Gaskell, now!” I yelled into my radio before dropping it, throwing my weight towards Henry.
But he’d reacted as fast as I had, retreating into the shelter not to hide but to grab one of the hostages, whose terrified shriek made fear spike through my heart. Inside the shelter, I squinted in the dark, freezing when I saw that Henry had his arm wrapped around Sarah’s neck, her feet barely on the ground as her face turned red and she scrabbled at his arms.
There was a yell from outside as Maisy and Jake continued to fight; Jake’s bulk and anger against Maisy’s cunning and determination.
“Let go of her,” I told Henry, knowing he wouldn’t but stalling for time. “Maisy’s confessed, they’ll take her in--”
“No, no, they’ll take all of us. I’m not getting locked up over some--” He broke off with a sudden bellow of pain, from what I didn’t know, but I lurched forwards to grab Sarah out of his loosened arms and pull her out of harm’s way. Her wrists were tied in front of her, and she staggered, off-balance.
Henry had grabbed his leg and staggered before reaching down to grab something to his right and below him. There was a yelp of fear.
Maha, I thought, panicked, and jumped forwards to slam my elbow into Henry’s contorted face, the shadowy shelter making him look demonic.
“Get off her!” I yelled as he tried to defend himself from me with one hand, the other still grabbing onto Maha, though how exactly I couldn’t see in the dark.
Then there was the bright light of torches and the familiar sounds of police voices, telling the two Collins outside to freeze. Henry was facing the entrance to the shelter and threw his arm up to shade his eyes with a hiss of pain. I’d had my back to the open end as I’d attacked Henry, and instead of being blinded, everything became clear.
Henry still had one hand wrapped up in Maha’s hijab and, now given a visible target, I slammed my fist into the man’s gut. He doubled over with a groan, and I grabbed him by his shirt collar and threw him to the ground, moving to stand in front of Maha, blocking her from view.
Sarah was leaning against the wall of the shelter, looking shocked and afraid, but I needed her.
“Sarah!” I snapped, and she looked up. “Help Maha. She needs you!”
“What?”
“Her hijab,” I snapped. “Help her.”
She wouldn’t want a man looking at her, and so I kept my back to her, focused on Henry, still sprawled in a heap on the stony ground.
“I can’t, my hands!” Sarah said, and I took hold of her wrist, picking hurriedly at the tight knots there. By the time I’d got them free, Sarah seemed to gather herself together enough to come forwards, and I ushered her past me to help Maha.
“Mitchell?” Gaskell’s loud voice rang out.
“One minute, sir!” I yelled back, still standing in front of Maha. “Are you sorted?” I asked the women quieter.
“Just a second,” Sarah said.
A moment passed, and I kept a close eye on Henry, who was beginning to try to scrape himself off the floor. For such a nasty man, he didn’t seem to have much of a pain tolerance. I got the impression that this was one of the first fights he’d been in or at least the first one where he’d not given himself the upper hand by poisoning his opponent, as he had Graham.
“All done,” Sarah said, sounding a little more herself. Given a job to do, she’d pulled herself together in order to help another. I turned around, giving her a nod of thanks.
“Good job, thank you,” I said.
Maha’s cheeks were wet with tears, and she let me and Sarah help her up.
“Are you alright?” I said anxiously. “Are you both?” Sarah nodded, and Maha did too, after a second. She looked badly shaken, and I put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You stabbed him, in the leg, right?”
“A rock,” she said shakily, “to his shin.”
I couldn’t help but grin, and she returned it weakly. “You did great, Maha, really wonderful. How did you get your hands free?” I asked, noticing that she wasn’t restrained as Sarah had been.
She gestured towards the wall. In the flickering light of the torches moving around outside, I saw a rusty bit of metal stuck out of the wall. Not only had she attacked Henry at the key point I’d needed her help, but she’d stayed calm enough to get her hands free.
“Brilliant,” I said.
Maha gave me a grateful look, still looking scared and exhausted. Sarah wrapped a motherly arm around her shoulders, and they both leaned on each other as they left the little shelter where they’d been kept prisoner. They were both shaking violently with cold. I hoped the officers had blankets for them and hot tea.
I released a breath and almost collapsed as the relief hit me. They were safe. Things hadn’t exactly gone to plan, but they’d gone as well as I could’ve hoped for.
A movement down by my feet made me startle. Henry tried to grab me, but I stepped back quickly, and he fell on his chest with a grunt.
“You--” was all he got out before I crouched down to grab his arms and twist them behind his back.
“You’re going to be locked up for a damn long time, you disgusting piece of-”
“Mitchell?” Gaskell said.
“In here, sir!”
Gaskell came in with a torch and, when he saw what I was doing, offered me a pair of handcuffs.
“You got the other two?” I asked as I was performing the satisfying job of trussing Henry Collins up.
“We have, they’re being escorted to a van. You need a hand?”
I shook my head. “I’ve got him,” I said as I pulled Henry out of the shelter and though he put up a weak resista
nce, he let me drag him once he saw the number of officers outside, some of them with guns in their hands.
Gaskell patted me on the shoulder. “Good job, Mitchell. Really good.”
“Thank you, sir.”
It didn’t quite feel real, that it was finally over and Maha and Sarah were safe, but it was beginning to sink in. Pushing Henry across the moorland towards the van waiting on the road a hundred or so yards away helped it feel more tangible with every step.
“Darren!”
I looked up as I was getting close, my breath coming in pants from the exertion of pushing an unwilling Henry along and climbing the slight uphill. Kay was waving at me from the road, looking like she was barely restraining herself from running forwards to shake me.
I pulled Henry the last short distance and happily handed him over to the officers by the van who nodded to me.
Henry twisted around to snarl at me, looking completely dishevelled with his previously neat hair rumpled and spit flying from his lips as he swore at me. “They’ll never be safe!” he yelled. “I’ll kill them, I’ll get them, wherever they lock me up, you won’t be safe from-”
The officers holding him yanked him away and pushed him towards the van, holding his head down so he wouldn’t hit it on the edge of the van’s roof.
I was staring after him as the van doors were closed when Kay wrapped her arms around me from the side and hugged me tightly.
“He can’t do anything, Darren,” she said quietly. “You kept them safe. It’s alright now.”
I swallowed thickly. “I know, you’re right.”
Henry was just trying to get under my skin, unnerve me in revenge for being put to justice for what he’d done.
Kay squeezed me before letting go. The van drove off, the road still lit up by the headlights of several other police cars parked on the road.
“Come on,” she said, steering me towards one. “You look dead on your feet.”
I did feel suddenly exhausted and let her nudge me into the car where I sagged against the window with a sigh.
“Crikey,” I muttered, as Kay got in the other side, behind the wheel. “What a night.”
“What a night,” Kay echoed, agreeing. “But you did it. It’s done now. Let’s get you home.”
DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thrillers: Book 1-3 Page 23