Moving Target (A DCI Thatcher Yorkshire Crimes Book 6)

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Moving Target (A DCI Thatcher Yorkshire Crimes Book 6) Page 12

by Oliver Davies

“Aye, probably. He was hinting that he wanted me to fiddle with some of the garage’s financial accounts.”

  “Because he thinks you’re an accountant,” Stephen said, looking amused but trying not to be.

  “Yep. I should really talk to an actual accountant, or else I’m gonna look like an idiot if he springs a question on me that I should know the answer to.”

  “It could be worse than you looking like an idiot if these people are dangerous, mate. If they find out you’ve been lying to them, they-”

  “I know, I know. But Phil’s fairly harmless, okay? It’s Matt I’m wary of, really.”

  “I don’t think you should underestimate any of them,” Stephen said, giving me a serious look.

  At moments like this, I was very much reminded of the fact that he was a father and that his kids probably received this same stern, disappointed expression if they messed up. My own dad hadn’t been bothered enough most of the time to give me a talking to if I failed an exam at school or got nicked by the police because I was doing something teenage and stupid, but I recognised the look, regardless.

  “I won’t, don’t worry. I’ll stay on my toes. While we wait for him to reply, did you find out anything useful yesterday from the house calls you did?”

  He’d followed up the last few Gumtree adverts, going round to people’s houses to ask them about their dog while I’d been driving over to meet Matt.

  “Nah, not really. One of them had given up their dog through the website, but they’d been to visit since, and there was nothing amiss.”

  “Alright, I suppose that’s good news, even if it gives us no leads.” I pulled a hand through my hair, which had settled into lax curls as it dried from the shower. “D’you think you can look into whether Hewford has an accountant on-site? Or whether we’ve got one associated with the station, y’know? Someone who could help me out with this if I am gonna use it as a cover.”

  “Can do.” Stephen nodded before looking at me for a moment. “What’re you going to do?”

  “More research, but into Phil and Matt this time. I need to know what we’re dealing with, what we’re up against. Unless you wanted to do the researching and-”

  “Nope, no, you get the research all to yourself,” Stephen laughed, putting his hands up.

  We split up, him going off to find answers about the accountant while I settled in at my desk with a new cup of coffee. Stephen had grabbed me a cereal bar from the vending machine, and I munched on it as I searched up Phil’s name on the system. The results didn’t much surprise me, with some of the older convictions being familiar because I’d been there when they happened. There were ones for petty theft, property damage and assault, and each succinct description brought back a wave of memories. I’d worked so hard to put that part of my past behind me after joining the police force and getting my life sorted out, but it seemed determined not to be ignored.

  Matt’s record was more worrying in many ways, with him getting done for the dogfighting years back and then nothing since. Maybe I was completely misjudging him, and he’d got himself together after he came out of his short stint in jail, but my gut told me otherwise. No, I reckoned that he’d just been more careful since then and that he didn’t get his hands dirty in the same way he once had. He had a girlfriend and kid now, and surely he didn’t want to go dragging them into anything unsavoury. I couldn’t imagine he had people showing up in the night, doing business with him inside the house like my dad had done. He’d be smarter than that, keeping things anonymous in these days of the internet or at least meet in person away from home and on neutral ground.

  Stephen came back a while later to report that Hewford didn’t have its own accountant, but there was a bloke connected with the police who usually sorted things out for us. My phone buzzed with a reply from Phil as Stephen was writing an email to the accountant, asking him to pop in to speak to us as soon as it was convenient for him. We could probably have simply called him, but I reckoned that it would be better to speak in person since we were asking for something that was outside the range of his usual duties.

  “Is that Phil?” Stephen asked, pausing in his typing.

  “Sure is.” I got the phone message up and chewed on the edge of my thumb as I read it. “He’s good to meet up this evening if I’m free. Have a beer together over at his place.”

  “That’s good, then,” Stephen said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced about it.

  “I’m curious to see where he’s living, yeah, and whether he has any dogs.”

  I didn’t know whether I wanted Phil to be tied up in this or not. A deep-set part of me, the bit which remembered how close we’d been as lads, hoped that he wasn’t getting into anything as serious as dogfighting. Fraud and trading stolen car parts, which is what I suspected he did at this garage of his, were bad enough, but I knew from my research that dogfighting could act as a gateway into drugs and even trafficking. I didn’t want Phil going anywhere near that, nor did I want to think of my old mate as being callous enough that he could watch dogs tear each other apart and not care a bit.

  As a police detective, though, I wanted a lead. Matt Hartley had been mentioned in those messages on the dogfighting Facebook group, and he’d been convicted, so I had fair reason to think that he was caught up in this, but there wasn’t any direct link yet between Phil and dogfighting. I had a strong feeling that he was because of the circles he moved in and the way he’d always been ambitiously trying to get into the big leagues. Even as teenagers, he used to pester my dad to introduce him to people, always wanting to be a part of things, to be known and respected.

  I sighed, passing a hand over my forehead. Stephen’s heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and I jumped slightly.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know that?” he said, frowning mildly at me.

  “Aye, I know,” I gave him a grateful smile.

  “I know you’re set on trying to help those dogs-”

  “I need to do something.”

  “It’s not our job, though. The LACS folks can handle things, and Rashford would let you off the case in a heartbeat if she knew that it was linked to your past and all. I know she would.”

  “I’ve got to try, Steph. Me knowing them from way back gives me an in, and I really think they know something. Or Matt does, at least. I’m not sure about Phil yet.”

  “I’m just saying if it’s too overwhelming-”

  “I’ll let you know, and we’ll back off,” I assured him.

  I wasn’t quite sure it was the truth because I couldn’t picture myself retreating from this case now; I was already too invested. But if it did get too intense, too dangerous, I would take a step back for both Stephen and Sam’s sakes.

  He gave a slow nod, still frowning at me.

  “Anyway, right now, I’m only going over for a beer. It’s nothing crazy.”

  “Yeah. I just know you, mate. You manage to dig trouble up like- like you’re a goddamn pig looking for truffles!”

  I had to laugh at that. “Jeez, Steph, you’re calling me a pig? That’s harsh, that is. You’re really wounding my self-confidence.”

  “Oh shut up, you know what I meant.”

  “You meant I’ve got an unerring ability to find trouble absolutely anywhere.”

  “Yeah. That.” He rolled his eyes at me.

  “It’s one of my many talents.” I grinned.

  Stephen’s stomach rumbled not long later, and we headed out for lunch. The afternoon seemed to drag its feet as it approached the time when I’d head round to Phil’s. I wasn’t nearly as nervous as I had been last night, standing outside Matt’s house and hoping that he wouldn’t see right through me, but there was still a tension in my gut. It was less the prospect of me getting hurt and more the possibility of saying something that’d give the game away that bothered me. I wasn’t extensively trained in undercover work, as Stephen had been keen to point out, and I needed to be careful not to say too much.

  Even though the dogfight
ing group up in the hills wasn’t our case nor our responsibility, I felt duty-bound to investigate the incidents that’d popped up here in York. I needed to make sure that the city wasn’t infected with the same cruelty as that barn in the fells, hidden out of sight and threatening to bubble up.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Stephen said, not for the first time, as I got up to gather my things.

  “Yes,” I said firmly, giving him an unimpressed look.

  “Be careful, then. And text me when you’re done.”

  “I’m going round to an old mate’s for a cuppa, not going to war, Steph. Chill, mate.”

  “That doesn’t reassure me even in the slightest,” he grumbled, but he didn’t protest anymore as I headed off out of the station.

  The wind was biting, and I jogged over to the unmarked police car I’d booked out. I’d park up a few streets away regardless, but there was no harm in being cautious. I would’ve done the same when I was going to visit Matt, but it’d been too last minute to organise it.

  The roads were fairly quiet as I made my way over to Phil’s house, parking up and walking over. The house itself was a run-down terrace, with a grey van parked in the drive. I took note of the license plate on my phone, startling when there was barking from inside the house.

  Taking a breath, I tucked my phone away and made my way over to the front door. I had my fingers crossed that this would go my way and that Phil could be persuaded to give up some important information on dogfighting. That is if he was even involved. I shook my head. I couldn’t think like that right now. I had to be positive.

  The front door opened, and Phil appeared with a smile, slapping me on the shoulder and inviting me in. A Staffy dog barked at his feet, its tail wagging like crazy. I fixed on my best jovial expression and stepped inside.

  Eleven

  I’d texted Stephen to let him know I was good after I left Phil’s around eleven, that I was still all in one piece, and Phil’s friendly dogs hadn’t decided to eat me. Phil wanted to talk about everything under the sun and seemed quite content for me to do little more than sit there, drink beer, and nod every now and then, which suited me fine.

  “Did you get anything useful out of him?” Stephen pressed when he arrived the next morning.

  Despite my slightly late night, I’d been up early to go out running and still felt half-asleep, despite the exercise and cold air. I yawned and rubbed my eyes before answering.

  “Not a whole lot, but I do think he’s tied up in it all, Steph.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s got a couple of Staffys there, and they’ve both got scars. Plus, he was asking me again about helping out at that garage he’s at. He’s involved in something shady-”

  “And he wants you, the fake accountant, to help cover it up?”

  “Aye, that’s the sum of it.”

  “Doesn’t he have his own accountant, someone he’s already, I don’t know, bribing?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe not, mate. He’s not in the big leagues, that’s for sure.” I put a finger up. “And another thing, when I tried to bring Matt up, he got really cautious all of a sudden. I was only talking about my dad and his old friends, but Phil went all tense and didn’t seem to know what to say. He had a whole bunch of beers at this point, too.”

  “That didn’t loosen his tongue?”

  “When it came to Matt Hartley, apparently not. Phil knew him, I’m sure of it, but he didn’t want to say too much.”

  “Did he seem scared of Hartley?” Stephen asked, frowning.

  “I don’t know, maybe,” I said, shrugging.

  Stephen sat back, dragging a hand through his hair. He looked tired, which made two of us, and I wondered whether the kids had been keeping him up again.

  “What now, then?”

  “He wanted to see me at the garage next time, so we need to get that accountant down here, stat.”

  “So he can coach you in accountant stuff?” Stephen said, looking doubtful.

  “No, so I can take him with me, like, as an assistant. He can handle the dodgy accounting, and I can talk to Phil.” Stephen gave a slow nod at that.

  “Don’t you think it’s time to fill Rashford in now? And we can hope that she’s not pissed with us for not reporting it earlier.”

  I lifted my brows at him. “I thought we were waiting until we had more to show her?”

  “We have enough to be going on with, right?” He spread his hands. “She’ll be wanting an update, and there are enough suspicious bits of information to indicate that Phil and Matt are wrapped up in this from what you were telling me, mate.”

  I frowned. “What if she thinks we’re wasting our time, the station’s time?”

  “She approved of us looking into this case-” Stephen argued.

  I cut him off quickly. “Aye, but that was after the concrete evidence found in that basement, right? The dogfighting training equipment. We haven’t found anything since that.”

  “But you’re sure that Berry and Hartley are involved, aren’t you? So just tell her what you know, and she’ll understand. Matt’s name was mentioned in connection with those people. That’s not nothing.”

  “I’m not saying it is nothing! Just that maybe we should hold off on telling Rashford for a bit longer, in case she doesn’t like it.”

  Stephen threw his arms out, exasperated. “Fine, do it your way. I’m telling you, she’s going to be annoyed if we keep it from her much longer, though.”

  “Suppose we tell her, and she forbids us from looking into further, huh? I’ve got a personal connection to Phil and Matt, so that’s reason enough for another team to take it over.”

  “Maybe that would be for the best,” he tried to argue.

  “But no one else will be able to get anywhere near them!” I huffed. “It’s useless us having found out that they know something if we can’t get them to tell us, if we can’t get close. I already have an in.”

  “So tell Rashford that!” Stephen said irritably.

  “Tell me what?”

  I froze with a wince, muttering a curse under my breath before I turned around.

  “Ma’am,” I greeted her awkwardly.

  She frowned, looking between the pair of us. We were both still sitting at our desks, though I’d been half out of my chair in agitation.

  “I think you two better come to my office for a chat,” she said after a painfully long minute.

  I sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  We ended up explaining the whole of it to Rashford, who sat impassive and patient as I tried to get my thoughts in order. It felt more uncomfortable than I would’ve guessed to try to convince her that Phil was guilty. He’d been my friend once, and I still remembered the huge gratitude I’d felt when he dealt with the funeral for my father, even though it had been years back. Maybe Stephen had been right, and we’d needed to tell the Superintendent, but some hidden nugget of loyalty to Phil had been holding me back.

  “When I agreed that you could look deeper into our suspicions of dogfighting, this wasn’t quite what I’d meant,” she said finally.

  “I know, ma’am,” I said with a grimace. “It wasn’t exactly what we planned either, but when Ph- I mean Berry came out of the woodwork and seemed to be involved, things took a different turn.”

  She made a noise of acknowledgement before drumming her fingers lightly against the desk. After a moment, she sighed.

  “Usually, I would pull an officer, any officer, off a case if they had personal involvement or ties,” she said.

  I wanted to protest, but I felt like she had more to say and held my peace for now.

  “In this case, I think you’re right, Mitchell. Your connection is something we won’t have if we swap you out.” She held up a finger when I started to thank her. “This isn’t what I’d like to do. You’re a good detective, but you’re reckless, and this case needs careful handling. You wouldn’t be my first choice for this, but there seems to be no other choice.”

  Chastise
d, I squeezed my hands together in my lap. “Understood, ma’am.”

  “Good. Huxley, keep an eye on him, and Mitchell?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You can prove me wrong, you know. Keep me informed, don’t go running off alone, and no throwing yourself into danger like you’re Superman on steroids, am I clear?”

  I blinked, taken aback by her vehemence. “Uh, yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. I expect that you’ll be wearing a wire when you go and meet Berry again, so you can gather some definitive information.”

  I’d already had the same idea and gave a firm nod. Around Matt, I would’ve been leerier about using recording equipment, but I didn’t think Phil had any suspicions about me at all.

  “That’d be fine, ma’am.”

  “You can get that from the tech team, then. Tell me if you have any problems getting the accountant to help you, and I’ll have a word.”

  “He seemed plenty willing when I spoke to him earlier,” Stephen put in, and Rashford gave him a nod.

  “Very well.” She glanced over at me, giving me a hard look. “Make sure to keep me updated, DCI Mitchell,” she said and waited until I’d agreed aloud before she dismissed us both.

  I blew out a breath as we closed her office door.

  “Jesus, man, I’m sorry,” Stephen said, grimacing at me in apology. “I never meant for her to overhear and-”

  “I know, I know, I don’t blame you. Neither of us realised that she was there.” I waved my hand.

  “She seemed to take it okay?” he offered.

  “Aye, or at least she didn’t ban us from looking into it further, so that’s a win in my books.” I sighed.

  “Yeah, that’s very true.”

  We got to work on getting ready for me to meet Phil at the garage this afternoon. The accountant couldn’t make it over to Hewford right now, so I talked to him on the phone and arranged to meet a short while before we were due over at Phil.

  “I’ve never done anything like this before, you know,” he said, sounding nervous.

  Neither have I, I thought, but it wouldn’t have been the right thing to say. The accountant, Lee Roberts, needed reassurance, not more doubt.

 

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