Shooting Season: A DCI Harry Grimm Novel

by David J Gatward

  ‘Outside, yes?’ Harry said.

  ‘Yes,’ Eric nodded. ‘So, I went back to bed. Everyone saw me.’

  ‘They did, didn’t they?’ Harry said. ‘And then . . .?’

  ‘I heard a car and saw him drive off,’ Charlie said.

  Harry started to walk along the corridor, leading Eric and Jim into Abigail’s room.

  ‘Two of you saw him go,’ Harry said. ‘Abigail saw him from here in her own room. Out of this window, in fact.’

  Harry led Eric over to the window.

  ‘You can see Police Constable Okri, right where Charlie had parked his car.’

  Eric leaned over and gave a nod of agreement.

  ‘Right, back to your room, then,’ Harry said, leading the way.

  In the hallway, Harry asked Eric, ‘So, when was it that you realised Chris was Charlie’s daughter?’

  ‘She told you, then?’

  ‘She did.’

  ‘Almost immediately,’ Eric said. ‘She had Charlie’s eyes, but then she was asking questions about him, and it really didn’t take much detective work.’

  At the door to Eric’s room, Harry looked to the next door down. ‘And that was Charlie’s room, was it not? Next to yours?’

  ‘It was,’ Eric said. ‘I drew the short straw, it seems.’

  Walking into Eric’s room, Harry made his way once again over to the window.

  ‘And this is where you saw Charlie, yes?’

  ‘His engine woke me,’ Eric said. ‘I looked out and there he was, getting into his car.’

  ‘And you’re absolutely sure?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Eric replied. ‘He had that silly hat on of his. I saw him get into his car and off he went.’

  Harry glanced outside then turned to Eric.

  ‘Can you just come over here for a moment, please, Eric?’

  Eric glanced at Jim, a question in the lines on his face, then made his way over to Harry.

  ‘Out there, yes,’ Eric said. ‘That’s where I saw him.’

  ‘Where exactly?’

  Eric frowned then pointed out of the window. ‘Out there! On the gravel in front of the house. Where else?’

  Harry opened the window and called out for Jadyn. When he appeared, Harry looked over at Eric and saw a flicker of fear in the man’s eyes.

  ‘There’s no way you could have seen Charlie get into his car from your window,’ Harry said. ‘Abigail could, but not you, Eric. Why is that?’

  ‘I saw him, I’m telling you that I did,’ Eric said.

  ‘No, you didn’t,’ Harry replied. ‘But what I think, is that you heard Chris go into Charlie’s room after everyone had gone to bed. His room is next door, so of everyone here, it’s you that would have heard it.’

  ‘Heard what? I don’t understand.’

  Harry went to stand by a small dressing table, close to the wall.

  ‘You knew of the earlier argument because you stopped it,’ Harry began. ‘You knew how upset Chris was. I’m not saying any of what happened was planned, but it’s easy to see how things fell into place. I think you heard Chris come in and tell Charlie who she was. And if so, you would’ve heard exactly how Charlie responded.’

  ‘I didn’t hear anything,’ Eric said.

  ‘You can hardly blame him though, can you?’ Harry said. ‘His PA comes in and tells him that she’s his daughter! Imagine that! There he is, he’s had a bad day anyway, and now he finds out that she’s been lying to him for over a year? He must have been livid!’

  Eric was quiet, staring through the window at nothing.

  ‘But what the hell was she thinking?’ Harry said, pushing now for a response. ‘She knew Charlie, knew what he was like. How did she expect him to respond? With a great big hug from daddy? Really? I mean, I don’t want to sound rude, but she must’ve been off her head to think it would all end well!’ Harry laughed then. ‘You know, I bet Charlie thought she was after him for his money! And maybe she was? Maybe that’s what it was all about, the whole keeping her secret thing, getting a job with daddy, hoping for a nice fat payout to keep her quiet? I mean, it’s amazing to think it of her, but that’s some juicy blackmailing right there, isn’t it?’

  ‘It wasn’t blackmail!’ Eric spat, turning on Harry now, face red with rage. ‘That kid had nothing, and that bastard had everything! And he got what he bloody well deserved!’

  Harry folded his arms. ‘And what was that, exactly, Eric? What really happened?’

  Harry watched the accountant’s expression change from one of anger, to acceptance. And Harry knew that he had him.

  ‘I heard them shouting,’ Eric said, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘God, it was awful. Chris was so upset and Charlie, well, he was just horrible. Screamed at her, called her a liar, a gold-digging bitch, said he’d ruin her. Then I heard a scream.’

  ‘And you went in to put a stop to it?’ Harry asked.

  ‘I opened my door to see Chris’ door shut, and I could hear her sobbing. Charlie’s was open so I went in. I wanted to tell him exactly what I thought of him! I’ve been his accountant, his legal adviser for a long time, you see, and I’d just had enough of his monstrous stupidity and selfishness.’

  ‘But how do we get from this argument to Charlie ending up in the woods?’ Harry asked.

  ‘He was on the floor when I went in,’ Eric explained.

  ‘Unconscious?’

  ‘He was bleeding,’ Eric said. ‘There was a wound on his head . . . a dent. Either Chris had hit him with something or pushed him, I just don’t know. It was serious, that much I was sure about.’

  Harry hadn’t expected to hear that, but he kept quiet and allowed Eric to continue.

  ‘I couldn’t have that man ruin Chris’ life,’ he said. ‘Can you imagine it? Her life would have been completely and utterly destroyed by it!’

  ‘If it was an accident,’ Harry said.

  ‘It wouldn’t matter,’ Eric said. ‘You know that as well as I. So, I decided to act, to get him away from the lodge, and to make it all look like something else.’

  ‘What did you do?’ Harry asked.

  ‘It took a while, but I managed to get him up and out of his bedroom window,’ Eric explained. ‘Dropped him out of it. Then I snuck out and downstairs, dragged him to his car and put him in the passenger seat. Then I made lots of noise coming back upstairs to make everyone think I was coming back from chasing after him. I told them that’s what had happened.’

  ‘And it worked,’ Jim said, joining in. ‘Everyone believed you.’

  ‘They did. Then I waited a while, crept out again, and wearing that ridiculous hat of his, just in case anyone saw me, got in his car and drove off.’

  ‘So, it was you Abigail saw, not Charlie,’ Harry said.

  ‘And that broken bone is from the fall out of the window,’ said Jim.

  ‘Once I spotted the woods, I just got on with it. I admit that the whole shotgun thing was probably a little much, but I had to make sure, you see? I needed to get rid of the evidence of what Chris had done. It took a while to drag him into the woods. Heavy thing. Didn’t do me much good, either.’

  ‘The coughing?’ Harry asked.

  Eric gave a sad nod. ‘Cancer,’ he said. ‘I’ve only got so long, you know? And I don’t think dragging a fourteen stone man across the ground is classed as a cure.’

  ‘You used both barrels,’ Harry said. ‘When you shot Charlie. Why? One would’ve been enough.’

  At this Eric just shrugged. ‘Best to be thorough.’

  ‘There’s a pair of Wellingtons downstairs,’ Harry said. ‘I would guess they’re the ones you used. They have pheasant pellets in the grip, same as the ones we found at the crime scene.’

  ‘You have to admit, it wasn’t a bad plan,’ Eric said, his words breaking on a cough.

  ‘I just don’t see why you went to so much trouble,’ Harry said.

  ‘I’m old, I’m ill.’ Eric sighed. ‘Chris is young. She’s Charlie’s only relat
ive as far as I’ve been able to find out over the past year. She’ll inherit everything.’

  ‘Are you willing to write this all out as a full confession?’ Harry asked.

  ‘I’ve only got a few months, you know,’ Eric said. ‘Nothing anyone can do. I wanted to make the time I had left count for something, though I’m not sure this is entirely what I had in mind.’

  ‘You didn’t answer my question,’ Harry said.

  Eric looked up at him and smiled, though there was pain in its corners. ‘I did it, Detective. I’ll write a confession. And between you and me, I doubt I’ll even make it to court.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ‘You were right, Jen,’ Harry said, staring out at the view of the dale below. ‘It really is quite something up here.’

  ‘It is that,’ Jen replied.

  It was over a week now since the investigation had come to an end, though Harry knew there was no such thing, not really. There would be paperwork and lots of boring meetings, trips to court, and probably more meetings. It would take months to finally come to a close. But Eric had stuck to his story, so that was something. And Jim, showing a lot of initiative, and a little too much belief in the capabilities of his dog, Fly, had soon after the arrest, gone back to the crime scene. And, quite to his own surprise, as well as everyone else’s, he and Fly had found Charlie’s hat. Fly apparently brought it back to him proudly, and also completely covered in mud. The pathologist had run tests and found Eric’s DNA on it. So, that was that.

  Harry was with the rest of the team up on Penhill. Even Detective Superintendent Swift was there, though he didn’t look all that happy about the walk they’d just done to get to the top of the fell and he was still heaving great gobfuls of cool air into his lungs.

  Giving everyone just a couple of minutes to take in where they were, and why they were there in the first place, Harry did the same, resting his mind for a moment on the blanket of rich, rural beauty spread out below them.

  He had, over the past couple of weeks, experienced the best and the worst of humanity, and seen the majesty of Wensleydale above and below. He had, if it was at all possible, found himself growing closer and more fond of this little team who were, whether they realised it or not, guardians of the place, it’s people. He had learned just a little bit more about them all, burrowed around in the dark, mysterious depths of the caves hidden beneath the dales, and found himself, quite to his surprise, wanting more.

  There was a richness here, Harry thought, which went beyond mere views to take photos of. The dale had its own heartbeat and the rhythm of it was strong and ancient and could be felt in every bit of life which moved on its surface. The breath of the place blew strong and sweet with the scent of grass and heather, leaf and fern, and the river Ure, which Harry stared at now, down in the bottom of the valley, was its lifeblood, fed by the rains which danced with abandon on the valley’s slopes, and kept the place rich and fresh and bursting with promise.

  ‘Thank you all for coming,’ Harry said, bringing himself out of his thoughts. ‘I hope you approve of the setting.’

  ‘It’s perfect,’ Matt nodded. ‘Nice one, Boss.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jim said, ‘Anderson would approve, I think.’

  Harry nodded to the young PCSO then said, ‘I just thought it would be appropriate to do something in memory of the man. I didn’t know him, but he was important to you all, and I’ve no doubt, based on my own experiences working with you, that you meant an awful lot to him. So, that’s why we’re here. I’ve not prepared anything myself, but if any of you have anything you want to say, I’m sure we’d all be happy to hear it.’

  Harry stepped back and allowed the sound of the wind to take his place. Then, with a cough, Gordy stepped forward and began to speak.

  Back down where they’d all parked before taking the short walk to the top of Penhill, Harry saw Swift walking over to him.

  ‘Well done, Grimm.’

  ‘Pardon, Sir?’

  ‘This little memorial gathering idea of yours,’ Swift said. ‘It was a bloody good one. The team, I, we, all very much appreciated it.’

  Harry was rather taken aback. ‘It was nothing, ’ he replied. ‘Just seemed appropriate, that’s all. Give the team a chance to do something together, say what needed to be said.’

  ‘It was all rather touching,’ said Swift. ‘Even Detective Sergeant Dinsdale’s poem.’

  Harry smiled. ‘Yes, that was quite something, wasn’t it? Let’s just hope he doesn’t decide to take it up as a hobby.’

  Swift turned to head back to his car. ‘Well, just thought I’d mentioned it. I’d best be off.’

  ‘I’ll get that report to you on the Baker case tomorrow,’ Harry said. ‘It’s a bit late, I know.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Swift replied. ‘I’m sure it will be fine.’

  And with that, the D-Sup climbed into his car and headed off.

  ‘All good?’ Matt asked, coming over to stand with Harry.

  ‘Swift was, well, he was nice,’ Harry said. ‘What’s that about?’

  ‘You’re having a laugh,’ Matt said. ‘Nice? You sure about that?’

  ‘Maybe I just imagined it.’

  A flash of movement on the ground caught Harry’s eye and there, at his feet, was a dog.

  ‘Fly! Fly! Get over here! Fly!’

  Harry crouched down and gave the dog’s head a good scratch as Jim came over to grab his pet.

  ‘Training going well, then?’ Harry asked, standing back up.

  ‘Don’t ask.’ Jim laughed. ‘We’ll get there though.’

  Behind Jim, Harry saw the rest of the team starting to make their way off into what was left of the day, and he raised a wave to them as they headed out. Then he checked his watch.

  ‘So, what are you on with now, Boss?’ Jim asked. ‘Got somewhere to be?’

  ‘Actually, I have,’ Harry said. ‘And I need to be heading off myself.’

  ‘We’ve got things to be getting on with, as well,’ Matt said. ‘See you in the office tomorrow, then?’

  ‘Can’t think where I’d rather be,’ Harry replied.

  With Jim and Matt gone, Harry was left alone, and with a final look at the dale below, he climbed into his old Rav-4, swung it out of where he’d parked, and headed off, down to West Witton, then left and on towards Bainbridge, where he took a left at the foot of the old Roman fort, driving up into the hills along a lane guarded on either side by drystone walls. Soon enough, the shimmering surface of Semerwater came into view and as it drew ever closer, Harry wasn’t sure whether he was nervous or excited or both.

  Arriving at the lakeside, Harry pulled his vehicle up and onto the stone shore. The lake, as always, looked cold and dark, a foreboding and haunting place, yet beautiful, too. The hills around it stared down, the streams and becks running off them feeding the lake.

  From the passenger seat, Harry grabbed the bag he’d packed earlier that day, which was sitting next to the book Gordy had given him and that he had, quite to his surprise, already read half of, then climbed out of his vehicle and walked over to the lake’s edge. He picked up a stone and with a flick of his wrist sent it spinning to bounce off the glimmering surface, whipping up a trail of tiny ripples as it went.

  Harry heard a vehicle pull up behind him and a door open.

  ‘We managed to find you, then.’

  ‘Looks that way,’ Harry said as a woman came to stand beside him. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

  Detective Superintendent Alice Firbank shivered a little.

  ‘Bleak is the word that springs to mind,’ she said. ‘But I can see how it would grow on you. And it has, hasn’t it, Harry?’

  ‘It has that,’ Harry replied. ‘Like I said on the phone.’

  He’d called Firbank the day after Eric was arrested. He still had some thinking to do, but at least this bit was sorted.

  Harry looked back to the D-Sup’s vehicle. ‘How is he?’

  ‘He’s absolutely fine,’ Fi
rbank said and waved to the other occupant in the car to come over.

  Harry watched as the passenger door opened and a young man climbed out.

  ‘You’re sure about this?’ Firbank asked.

  ‘Never been more sure of anything in my life,’ Harry replied. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘The usual, ‘Firbank said. ‘He’s out on parole under your supervision, but he’ll also be checked up on regularly to ensure everything’s okay, and to provide you both with appropriate support.’

  ‘Sounds grand,’ Harry said.

  ‘What’s in the bag?’ Firbank asked.

  ‘Towels,’ Harry said as the young man came to stand in front of them both.

  Firbank stared up at Harry then, her eyes flicking towards the lake, then back to his ruined face.

  ‘You’re not serious!’

  Harry’s face broke into a wide smile, the scars folding up and in on themselves as they struggled to contain it. He then opened the bag and held out one of the towels.

  ‘What’s this?’ the young man asked.

  ‘Swimming shorts and a towel,’ Harry said. ‘And when we’re done, I’ve a nice hot flask of tea, and some cheese and cake.’

  ‘You’re having a laugh!’ the young man said. ‘And I thought you hated cheese?’

  ‘Ben,’ Harry said, reaching out and pulling his brother into a warm, tight hug. ‘Welcome to Wensleydale!’

  Author’s Note

  The amazing thing about living or visiting somewhere like Wensleydale is that wherever you turn, there’s always something rather surprising waiting for you. So, if you do visit, (and you really should), follow Harry and take that little road leading up out of West Witton, and head over the top, then down into the wonderful, ancient realm of Coverdale.

  Penhill, which stands as though keeping silent watch over both Wensleydale and Coverdale, is striking, and a walk up onto its relatively flat summit will gift you with views a plenty. In winter, it’s even more memorable, and that story Jenny tells Harry, about an Easter morning service in the snow? Well, that’s based on truth! My dad, the Methodist minister when we lived in Hawes, had planned for the service to be on top of Penhill one year (it was usually held on the Roman Fort in Bainbridge) and snow wasn’t going to put him or anyone else off! So a motley collection of four-wheel drives, including my dad’s old ex-military lightweight Land Rover, crawled up that same road Harry and Jenny drove along, and parked just where the drystone walls stop and the open moors take over. We then waded through knee-deep snow and hunkered down in the shelter of a wall, which was mostly hidden by huge drifts, and proceeded to have a short service and sing a couple of hymns! But that was and is the dales for you: weather doesn’t generally stop play! Afterwards, we all headed back down into Bainbridge for a breakfast in the church hall, which comprised mountains of toast and marmalade, far too many boiled eggs, and tea poured from the most enormous teapots I’ve ever seen, the kind generally only ever used by the military! What was even more amazing was that the people lifting these vast, metal teapots were mostly in their eighties.