DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thrillers: Book 1-3

by Oliver Davies

  “You’re okay, and that’s what matters,” I said, which was true, but hell if I wasn’t furious at myself for letting that bloke run off. He could’ve been our killer, and I’d failed to grab him when I’d had the chance. “I need better trainers.”

  Taylor blinked at me in surprise as we walked back to Stephen and I’s car. “You need… better trainers?” she repeated.

  “Aye,” I sighed. “They don’t grip properly. I was sliding all over the place.”

  “Ah,” she said in understanding.

  I squeezed her hand gently as we reached the car. “Go on in,” I said, gesturing for her to take the front passenger seat, which she did, and then closing the door behind her.

  I turned to Stephen. “We’ll drop her off at her friend’s and then head to the station.” I stretched my arms up above my head with a wince, before trying to ease the kinks out of my tired legs. “You mind driving?” I gave him a stern look. “Carefully.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m always careful.”

  Stephen got in the driver’s seat while I got in the back, feeling a little out of place. I’d not been in the back of a police car for quite some time, and the change of perspective was strange.

  Taylor didn’t speak much, and Stephen kept the radio at a low hum, just enough to soften the silence. I looked out the window at York passing by while keeping an ear on my radio. I’d relayed where I lost sight of the man, and what he’d been wearing, but it was hardly anything to go on. They hadn’t found him, and were heading back to the station, where Gaskell would be waiting and wanting a full rundown of the night’s events, no doubt. I was ready to fall straight into bed, after the busy day we’d had.

  I knew I should ask Taylor more about Will, what she’d known of him and which members of the university staff had dealt with his expulsion. But now wasn’t the time. She was still shaken, and it was late.

  We pulled up outside the address she’d directed us to, and her friend came hurrying out of the house immediately. He was a man who looked significantly younger than Taylor and I, with almost shoulder-length black hair and warm, brown skin. He wrapped Taylor in a hug the moment she got out of the car.

  “Thank Christ you’re okay,” he said.

  He turned to me and smiled brightly, though I could see the tightness around his forehead and the shadows under his eyes.

  He thrust out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Ian, and you’re the Darren I’ve heard so much about?”

  I chuckled, liking him immediately. “I hope it was all good.”

  “Oh, glowing reports,” he said charmingly.

  Taylor was shivering, and I squeezed her shoulder gently. “I’m sorry about…” I started, before wincing and gesturing vaguely. “All of it.”

  She gave me a soft look. “It’s not your fault. And thank you for turning up when you did.”

  “Anytime,” I said, and meant it. I looked over at Ian and gave him a nod. “Have a safe night.”

  “And you, Officer,” he said, giving me a little salute.

  I shook my head with a tired laugh and headed back to the car, pausing by the door to watch Ian guide Taylor into the house. I was glad she wouldn’t be alone tonight, and I thought she needed a friend right now, rather than a one-date lover she’d not known very long. Plus, I was inextricably linked with the problems she was having right now, as the DCI in charge of the case, and she probably didn’t want any more reminders.

  “You alright?” Stephen asked, as I got back in. “Did her friend seem decent?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed, clipping my belt in and leaning back in the seat, ready to fall asleep. “It’s good she’s got someone to stay with.”

  “You don’t wish she was staying with you?” Stephen asked quietly.

  I grimaced. “Not really. I think she needs space right now, not to be crowded by me.”

  Stephen nodded. “I’m glad we agree.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “That was a test, was it? Is now where you tell me you’re her big brother and will run me through with a pike if I upset her?”

  Stephen chuckled in that deep voice of his. “No,” he said. “I think she’ll be fine doing that herself if you step out of line.”

  I huffed. “Thanks a bunch.” We were quiet for a minute, getting close to the station. The complete darkness of the autumn evening made it feel considerably later than it was. “She might just set her cat on me,” I mused.

  “I think you need some sleep,” Stephen said.

  “Probably.”

  We parked up at the station and headed up the floors to our desks, taking the lift for once. I caught Stephen's grimace as we crossed the office floor and I frowned at him.

  “You pull something?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “It’s that rugby injury I told you about. I twisted my knee, and it still plays up sometimes.”

  I winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry. You should’ve told me. I would’ve stopped ragging on you to come running with me.”

  He sent me a tired smile. “I’ll remember to remind you of that the next time you’re annoyingly healthy.”

  We got back to our desks. Gaskell was in his office, and I sighed as he waved us over.

  “You look like how I feel,” he said, looking over the pair of us. “So we’ve got this man, who might be our stalker-killer, following this teacher-”

  “Taylor.”

  Gaskell raised an eyebrow at me. “This teacher,” he said, ignoring me, “and nobody managed to get their hands on him. Is that about the sum of it?”

  “Yes, sir.” I didn’t have the energy for defending myself at present, and Gaskell seemed to realise it as he sighed.

  “What now, then, gents? Hm?”

  I shrugged, trying to get my brain in gear. “We look for cameras in the area that might’ve caught, sir. Appeal for witnesses; people in the crowd, or stallholders at the market.”

  Gaskell grunted. “You can try that, certainly. And this student you went off after earlier today?” He glanced at his screen, which probably had my report from yesterday up on it. “Will Seton. Any news on that?”

  “Well, sir,” I said, and then hesitated, not sure how much of what Taylor had told me I wanted to relay. I decided to keep it plain and simple. “The teacher, Taylor, who was in the middle of things today, she had a run-in with this Will. He was a student of hers, before he got expelled, sir.”

  Gaskell looked a touch more awake as he focused, though he must have known this from the report I sent him. But he had a lot on right now, so I would hardly have been surprised if he’d forgotten some of it. “That’s a coincidence.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, sir.”

  He nodded. “Alright. You’ll be bringing her in for a statement and trying to track down this bloke. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you?”

  That had indeed been my plan, but I just nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Go catch some sleep. You look dead on your feet, the pair of you.”

  I glanced at Stephen, and he did look pretty tired. We’d both been up early to get over to Will’s parents, and the driving and the stress really took it out of you.

  “Thanks, sir,” Stephen said, with a nod, before leading the way out of the office. Shrugging on our coats and picking up our things, we headed downstairs.

  “Don’t suppose you’ll be running home tonight?”

  I gave Stephen an incredulous look. “Are you joking? Any more running and my legs will fall off.”

  Stephen grinned. “‘Course I was joking.” He gave me a nod. “You did bring your car, though, didn’t you?”

  I wasn’t entirely sure for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I did. I’d already been hoping to go on a run up the moor, so I took the car in this morning.”

  Stephen looked faintly impressed. “You’d make a good chess player. Ten steps ahead, aren’t you?”

  “When running?” I said cheekily. “Way more than ten steps ahead of you, mate.”

  We’d reached
the car park, and he rolled his eyes. “You are fast, though. Took off like a shot after the runner.”

  I rubbed a hand through my hair, feeling uncomfortable at the praise, which I hardly felt I’d deserved. My hair felt faintly sticky, and I grimaced, already longing for a hot shower.

  “Wasn’t fast enough, though,” I said.

  “Nobody else could’ve tried harder,” Stephen said seriously, before he gave a little wave and headed off towards his car, cutting off the conversation.

  I shook my head, watching him for a minute as he walked away, before I headed over to my own car. Today had been a long one, and I was looking forward to a fresh start tomorrow.

  Sixteen

  I had been right. My legs were sore as heck the next morning. I groaned as I got out of bed, feeling about a hundred years old, and limped my way around the flat as I tried to get ready for work.

  Loaded up with caffeine, I was beginning to feel more human as I turned up at my desk and found Stephen already there.

  “You’re early,” I said.

  He glanced sideways at me. “Nope, you’re late.”

  I checked my watch. “Well, damn.”

  It was someone’s birthday at the station, and cake and doughnuts sat temptingly on the side in the break room. I ignored them, feeling like my stomach would reject all that sugar right now.

  “Feeling a bit worse for wear, huh?”

  “I’ve had worse,” I said, thinking of that time I careened down a scree slope whilst being shot at. Good times.

  Stephen snorted. “I can believe that, somehow.”

  I glanced down at my watch again. “You think it’s too early to call Taylor?”

  “Definitely. Let the woman sleep; she’ll thank you for it. Come on. We’ll see whether there were any useful cameras in the area.”

  I grunted an agreement, and we spent the next couple of hours first plotting out the route I thought I’d taken through the streets, and then searching the police database for local CCTV. There were a couple, but they were frustratingly unhelpful.

  “Useless,” I muttered, looking at the second CCTV recording we’d managed to track down. The hooded man was a fuzzy blur as he ran past. His face was completely in shadow, and we got little from the low-quality footage, especially once he entered the Halloween tourist crowd.

  “You didn’t happen to see his face, did you?” Stephen asked me.

  “No,” I said. I flipped through my memories of the night’s chase. “You know,” I said, “we’ve been looking into this Will Seton, but that bloke I chased… he was too short to be Seton. Will was built like a brick wall.”

  Stephen sighed. “Great. More complications. Maybe Will’s our killer, but not the stalker?”

  I grimaced, unconvinced. “Maybe,” I conceded.

  Stephen rubbed his forehead. “Alright, I reckon it’s late enough that you can call your lady now.”

  I got Taylor on the phone, my forehead scrunching into a sympathetic frown at the weariness in her voice.

  “I’m sorry to ask,” I said, “but we really need you to come in to give your statement.”

  She was quiet for a minute, just her breath audible in the speaker. “About last night?”

  “Yes. It’s important we hear it all while it’s fresh.” I paused, wondering whether to mention that we needed to ask about Will too, but I was worried that bringing it up would leave Taylor stressing over it in the meantime. I ended up not saying anything about the ex-student and arranged a time later today for her to drop by.

  “Thanks, Taylor.”

  “No problem,” she said. Her tone was a little flat, and I could understand why.

  I felt heavy as I hung up the phone, and Stephen reached over to clasp my shoulder. “It’ll be alright.”

  He couldn’t promise that, but I appreciated the sentiment and nodded, before clearing my throat.

  “Let’s see if we can track down Will’s bar, hm?” I suggested.

  Stephen groaned, tipping his head back in his seat. “You know how many pubs there are in York, Mitchell?”

  “No, but I guess you’re gonna tell me.”

  “You guess wrong,” Stephen chuckled. “I have no idea. But it’s hundreds, okay? There are so many bars. How exactly are we going to find him?”

  I rubbed my chin. “No clue,” I admitted, trying to look at this thing from all angles to see if there wasn’t a side route that we’d ignored.

  Stephen had been watching me. “You’re scheming. That’s your plotting face. You’d make a great supervillain, you know.”

  “Stephen, shut up.”

  He laughed. “Come on, what’s the master plan?”

  God, he was such a child sometimes. “There’s no master plan.”

  “But?”

  I rolled my eyes. “But,” I admitted, “we could chat to Abby. It’s just an idea, but if this Will is our guy and he’s got something against Taylor-”

  “He might have beef with Abby too.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Bingo.”

  “Alrighty. So I’ll call Abby, and you can look for-”

  “Nope.” I grinned at him. “I’m pulling rank. You can start trawling through the pubs and looking online, and I’ll call Abby.”

  He cursed me. “You’re the worst.”

  It took me fetching him a doughnut for him to forgive me, and then we set to it. Abby sounded quiet but steady when I talked to her on the phone, and I was truly relieved that she was out of York for the moment, especially after what had happened with Taylor yesterday evening.

  “What does he look like?” Abby asked. “I don’t know honestly. Will is kind of a popular name.”

  “He’s massive,” I said honestly. “Think Welsh rugby player, but with all of his teeth.”

  “Oh,” Abby said quietly.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, I remember him.” She was quiet for a long minute, and I waited for her, feeling that pressing her wouldn’t help. “We, er, hooked up once.”

  I could hear the embarrassment in her voice and kept my tone steady when I said. “When was this?”

  She hummed. “I dunno. Maybe a year ago? He…” She trailed off, and as I was about to prompt her, she spoke again, “He messaged me a lot afterwards. I, honestly, I kind of ghosted him. I just- I just got a bad vibe from him. He was so… pushy.”

  I was frowning now, my stomach feeling tight and uncomfortable. “Abby,” I said quietly, “did he ask you to do something-”

  “No!” she cut me off sharply. “No, nothing like that. I was on board. It’s only… he seemed really entitled. And he was straight-up nasty to my roommate. I don’t know. I had a gut feeling.”

  I made a noise of acknowledgement as I made notes. Abby’s gut feeling had been right, I thought.

  “Do you think he was the one that’s been…?” she asked.

  “Leaving the birds?” I offered, not sure if she was referring to that or the student killings. “We’re not sure. We’re looking into all possibilities.” It was a cop-out of an answer, but I couldn’t confirm anything right now even if I’d wanted to.

  “I was planning to come back to York soon.”

  My pen paused where I’d been writing. “How soon?”

  “I don’t know, a couple of weeks' time?” she said, like it was a question.

  I chewed my lip. “I understand that you’re probably worried about your schoolwork,” I said, “but these are extenuating circumstances, Abby. I’m not confident saying that it’s safe for you to come back yet.”

  I heard Abby inhale. “Not safe?” she repeated. “What do you mean? You think this- this person wants to hurt me?”

  I dithered, unsure how much to say. God knows, I didn’t want to traumatise her by putting frightening thoughts in her head, but I honestly didn’t want her back in York until this bloke was under lock and key.

  “I think it’s a possibility.” I was silent for a beat. “I can put in a word with the university,” I offered. “It must be real
ly hard putting things on hold while your friends continue,” I said, rubbing a hand through my hair as I spoke with genuine regret, “but I think this is best for your safety.”

  “You don’t think my flatmates are in danger, do you?” she asked quickly.

  It increased my opinion of her that she worried about her flatmates even as her life was being disrupted in a big way.

  “I don’t,” I said. “I think the targeting was specific. That’s why I’d be worried for your safety if you returned. We’re not forbidding you, but that’s my advice.”

  She sighed. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll- I’ll stay here for a bit longer. But you’ll tell me, won’t you? When I can come back?”

  “Straight away,” I promised.

  I hung up, looking almost jealously at Stephen as he was trawling through all the pubs in York, and he caught the expression on my face.

  “Tough conversation?” he said sympathetically.

  “Aye. Poor kid wants to be back here.”

  “It’s for her safety,” he said.

  I nodded. I knew that, I just hoped that the time when it was safe for her to return would arrive sooner rather than later.

  Still, finding out that Abby had a direct link with this guy was a significant step forwards and furthered the likelihood of him being our stalker.

  “She knew him,” I told Stephen.

  His eyes widened. “Yeah? And he’s got a reason to be pissed with her?”

  “Sure does,” I said, and didn’t go into details.

  “On that positive note,” Stephen said, stretching out his legs with a click of his knees, “I think it’s time for lunch. I could eat a horse.”

  “Any progress with the pubs?” I asked, as we headed off for the shops.

  “None. Zip. Zilch. Absolutely nothing,” Stephen grumbled.

  “Alright,” I sighed. “We may have to table that idea. Now that we know Abby’s linked to Will, we’ll need to talk to the other victims’ flatmates.”