by Robert Innes
“Good morning. I’m DS Blake Harte.”
“The man in charge?” The paramedic said.
Blake nodded.
“Well then you’ve got more work to do here than we have I’m afraid.”
Blake sighed. “So, he’s dead?”
“’Fraid so.”
“Ok, thanks.”
As the paramedic walked back towards the ambulance, Blake saw a forensics van pull up on the driveway. He hoped he could at least trust Gardiner to explain everything to them whilst he spoke to Harrison.
Harrison was rather struck by this new policeman sat in front of him. Through the explosion of horror, confusion and upset of the past hour, Harrison had seen a level of humanity in this man that he hadn’t really sensed in anyone before.
His father was an emotionless husk at the best of times, his mother merely flittering around like a moth against a light bulb trying to keep the day as easy and positive as she could and then of course there was Daniel, the reason he was covered in bruises, who was now lying dead in his front yard. But as Harrison looked up at the understanding and kind face in front of him, he felt that he wasn’t going to be judged, whatever answer he gave. Bizarrely, despite everything that had happened, he was almost feeling relaxed now it was just the two of them together.
“What did you say your name was?” Harrison asked, timidly.
“DS Harte. You can call me Blake if you want to though.”
“Blake Harte. Nice name.”
“Thank you.” Blake replied. There was a pause. “Harrison, I’ve just spoken to the paramedic. I’m sorry but there’s nothing they could do for Daniel.”
Harrison wasn’t shocked but the confirmation caused him to put his head in his hands again as the realisation flooded though him.
“Do you want a drink?” Blake asked him.
Harrison took a deep breath, then nodded. “I’ll do it.” He said, standing up. This man might be a detective but he would challenge Sherlock Holmes himself to find anything in this kitchen after one of his mother’s epic tidying sessions. He flicked the kettle on then leant against the counter, taking another deep breath.
“So.” Blake said, putting his hands together. “Are you OK to do this now?”
“Yeah. I think so.”
“When did you and Daniel first meet?”
“About three years ago.” Harrison replied. He could see a group of people in white jump suits around the shed. His mother and father were with the other two policemen watching proceedings. “I was going to break it off with him today actually. Well, I did I guess. That’s why he went mad at me.”
“Is that where the bruises on your neck came from?”
Harrison instinctively put his hands up to cover the marks, then realised that there wasn’t any point now. Maybe that was why Daniel had grabbed him like that, because there wasn’t going to be anything to hide from anymore.
“Yeah. He had me pinned up against that wall shouting in my face. He was drunk, as he normally was.”
“How often did he hit you?”
Harrison thought for a moment as the kettle boiled. “I don’t know really. Often enough. I remember the first time seemed like a lashing out. But then it happened again. And again.”
He poured some hot water into a mug, then realised he had forgotten to put a tea bag into it. “Sorry, I forgot to ask, did you want one?”
“I’m fine.” Blake replied. “Did he ever do anything else to you? Other than hitting?”
Harrison got a teabag from the top cupboard and put it in the mug, stirring it in with a spoon. “Erm, well yeah. He called me names a lot. That only tended to happen when he was really drunk. I don’t know why but the name calling hurt more. He’d get really personal. Telling me that I was a coward and a wuss. Loads of things.”
“You can’t have been that much of a coward if you broke it off with him today?” Blake offered. “Was that all it ever was? Just hitting you and name calling?”
“What else is there?”
Blake hesitated. “Did things ever get a little bit scary in the bedroom?”
Harrison’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“Did he ever want to have sex when you weren’t in the mood?”
Harrison glanced up through the window at his parents. They were a safe enough distance away for him to talk.
“Well, yeah. Sometimes we’d be in bed after he’d hit me or something, feeling me up and stuff. I kind of just let him do it, I didn’t want to make him angry again. If he was in that sort of mood, you know, touching and stuff, then that meant that he wasn’t angry anymore. So I’d just let him do it.”
Harrison was surprised to see a flash of sadness cross Blake’s face but he quickly seemed to pull himself together.
“So, today – you’ve told Daniel you want to end things, and he, like you say, ‘goes mad?’”
Harrison took a sip of his tea and sat down at the table again. “Yeah.”
“Then your dad comes in?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened then?”
“I’m not sure really.” Harrison said, taking another sip of his tea. His neck still felt a bit tender. It felt bizarre to be feeling physical pain from somebody who was now dead. “It’s all a bit of a blur. I looked up and Dad had Dan on the table. He looked like he was about to punch him. Then he sort of picked him up and took him outside.”
“Towards the shed?”
Harrison nodded.
“And you followed?”
“Yeah. I didn’t know what Dad was going to do. I’ve never seen him that angry.”
“Does your Dad get angry very often?”
Harrison faltered. Did he really have to know that?
“Harrison?”
“Erm, sometimes. Not as often as he used to, nowhere near.”
“What did he used to do?”
Harrison looked at him imploringly. “Do we have to talk about that?”
“I’m just trying to paint a picture, Harrison. That’s all.” Replied Blake kindly. “But yeah. I’m sorry, but I do need to know.”
Harrison took another large mouthful of tea to try and waste a bit more time. “He used to. He’s smacked me before, you know, when I was younger.”
“So your Dad has been violent to you?”
“Yeah, but not for ages!” Harrison said quickly. “I mean, years. When I was a teenager probably.”
“Has he ever hit your mum?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? I noticed your mum has a black eye?”
“Yes.” Harrison replied. He didn’t really see what any of this had to do with Daniel’s death. There was a pause, then Blake thankfully decided to move on.
“OK. So, back to this morning.” Blake continued. “Your Dad takes Daniel outside, opens the shed and then locks him inside it. Where were you at this point?”
“I was standing just by the kitchen door.”
“So, you could see everything that happened?”
Harrison nodded. “Dan was banging up against the other side of the door, trying to get out. Dad locked the door and came back towards the house, telling me to pass him my phone so that he could call you. He went outside to ring you and then I went to try and talk to Dan.”
“You did. I saw on the cameras. You went up to the shed walked round the side. What were you saying?”
Harrison smiled sadly. “I think I apologised. Can you believe it? Everything he’d done and I was the one saying sorry.”
“Did he say anything back?”
Harrison shook his head. “Then my Dad called me back inside.” He sighed, the emotion of the morning’s events flying back through him. “I can’t believe this has happened. I did love him you know. I know that sounds stupid. I’m stupid. I must be to put up with all of it for that long.” He started crying again.
“Hey.” Blake said, putting a supportive hand on his arm. “None of this is your fault. Domestic violence is one of the hardest things to get out
of. And you did it. You got out of it. He died a single man. That isn’t stupid. That’s brave. I admire you.”
“Really?” Harrison looked up at Blake, immediately wishing he wasn’t crying. He certainly didn’t feel particularly brave at that moment.
“Really.” Blake smiled. “And some day, you’re going to find a bloke that treats you how you deserve to be treated and they’re going to be lucky to have you.”
There was a moment’s silence as Harrison calmed himself down and gave Blake a small smile.
A knock on the kitchen door interrupted them. The policeman Blake had come up from the basement with poked his head round the door.
“Sorry Sir but you’re going to want to see this. We think we’ve found the gun.”
“OK, Matti. Thanks. I’ll be out in a sec.” He turned back to Harrison and pulled out his mobile. “Look, I haven’t been here five minutes yet so I haven’t got a card or anything for the station or a number you can get me on there. So, for now, just take my number. If you think of anything else, anything at all about what happened, then give me a call or a text. OK?”
He scribbled his number down on a notepad that was on the side of the table. “I think I’m probably going to have some more questions for you at some point. But you’ve been really helpful for now. Try and calm yourself down, alright?”
And with that, he stood up and strode out of the kitchen into the yard. Harrison looked down at the number on the pad and the name written underneath it. Blake Harte. Despite everything that had happened, Harrison already felt just a little bit happier.
Blake strolled across the yard towards Mattison and Gardiner. He absolutely hated dealing with domestic violence victims, and it seemed to him there was more of it going on around Halfmile farm than the victim and his ex-boyfriend. He already got a vibe from Seth Baxter that suggested somebody who would be quick to fly off the handle and his wife’s black eye along with the age old excuse of ‘walking into a door’ only fuelled his suspicions.
“So where did we find this?” Blake inquired, eyeing up the weapon. It was a shot gun.
“We found it at the other end of the yard, behind the shed.” Gardiner said shortly, clearly still annoyed at being given such menial tasks to perform.
The woman from forensics pulled her facemask down. She had brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. “This has been fired recently. But having looked at the victim even for a minute, this gun wouldn’t create the types of wound on his body. A gun like this tends to make much more of a mess, there’d be gun powder residue and the wounds would be bigger. I can say with some degree of certainty that this isn’t your murder weapon.
“Really? Have you got any gloves?”
She passed him a pair of latex gloves out of her bag.
“What was your name by the way?” Blake asked as he pulled them on.
“Sharon. Sharon Donahue.”
“Nice to meet you Sharon. DS Blake Harte. So, why was this fired?” He said, examining the gun.
“There’s other officers with the Baxters’ now, Sir.” Patil announced, as she walked towards them.
“Excellent. They’re separated, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“Right then,” Blake said, passing the gun back to Sharon. “With your permission Sharon, I’d like us to take a look at that shed.”
Daniel’s body had now been removed, which meant that Blake was going to have to wait for the post mortem results from the coroner. It was already one of the strangest murder investigations he had ever come across.
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance that there could have already been somebody in there waiting for him, is there?” Mattison asked as they arrived at the shed.
“Don’t be stupid.” Gardiner snapped. “We were all out here when the door was opened, we’d have seen if anybody else was in there.”
“I don’t think there’s anything stupid about it.” Blake said sternly. “I’m yet to hear any helpful suggestions from you, Gardiner?”
Gardiner glared at Blake. “Suicide. It must have been. If nobody else was in there and the boy’s been shot, then it must have been suicide.”
“No chance.” Sharon said. “The way the bullet wounds are placed, there’s no way he did it himself. We’re going to have to get him examined before we can say anything for certain.”
“Now that was stupid.” Mattison grinned.
“You just behave yourself Matti.” Chuckled Blake. Gardiner didn’t say a word, he just seethed with his arms crossed like a petulant child.
“We’re going to have to get someone to inform his family.” Blake said as he opened the shed and examined the door. “Somebody sensitive, obviously.”
“Do you want me to go, Sir?” Patil asked him.
“Well, are you sensitive?” Blake inquired jokingly. He found it easier to create a lighter atmosphere with his officers during cases like this. They had a serious job to do, but if things were too heavy then the mood amongst colleagues had a tendency to be more counterproductive.
Gardiner scoffed. “She’s going to have to be more than sensitive to get through to Donaldson’s mum.”
Blake turned round to give him a withering look. “And why is that?”
“Because she’s an alcoholic. The whole family is a mess. Mini will probably be trying to tell an unconscious pile on the floor that her son’s dead. She probably doesn’t even remember she has a son right now. Her daughter’s in prison as well by the way, for grievous bodily harm
“When did his sister get sent to prison?”
“Two months ago. I was the one who made the arrest,” Gardiner added, a tad smugly. Blake wasn’t impressed. “She broke into the corner shop in the village but didn’t realise that the owner was still out the back doing a stock take. He surprised her and she beat two rounds of crap out of him. I don’t know what she was after. Money, vodka or cigarettes probably.”
“If you think you can tell his mother Patil, then yeah. I’m happy for you to do it.”
“Sir.” Patil said, walking away towards one of the cars.
Blake entered the shed. It was longer than it was wide meaning that the only way it was possible for more than one person to stand inside was in front of one another rather than side to side. All around the walls was expensive looking farming and gardening equipment; a strimmer, large secateurs, hoes and a long rake positioned delicately in a diagonal direction across the wall. An orange lawnmower sat at the back, and just by the door was the hose he had watched Seth place back inside here on the camera. A large metal case was sat behind it, its lid ajar.
“Sharon, pass me that gun a second.” He said.
She passed him the shotgun and he placed it inside the case. It certainly fit inside it the way he imagined it was supposed to. So why was it out of its case? Who had fired it and why had it been found on the other side of the yard?
Looking around, he quickly saw that there was absolutely no way anybody was going to be able to get in or out of here, apart from the door that he had come in from.
“Right, so Harrison came out of camera view, around here.” He murmured to nobody in particular as he came out of the shed and round the side, looking up at the camera pointing at the shed until he could see that he was out of its sights. He looked at the wooden panels in front of him and pushed against it.
“Right lads, give it a kicking. See if any of the panels are loose.”
Mattison and Gardiner went to work on the wall of the shed pushing and kicking each of the large wooden planks. It soon became clear that none of them were moving. Neither did any round the back of the shed either. It seemed the whole structure was completely impenetrable, as something built to protect anything from potential thieves was supposed to be.
“What about the roof?” Sharon suggested.
Blake shook his head. “We could see the whole roof from the security camera. Nobody or anything was up here.”
He pulled his e-cig out of his pocket and sucked thoughtfully on it.
“So how did he do it?” Blake asked him impatiently. “Where did he get a gun from?”
“Look, I don’t know how he managed to shoot him through a solid wooden wall, but it’s obvious it’s him. You saw him, he’s a wreck.”
“Because his boyfriend has just been murdered!”
“Yes, and he’s the one that did it! Mattison told me, on that CCTV camera, he comes towards the shed and comes out of view. He’s the only person who came near enough to do anything without being seen.”
Blake sucked on his e-cig irritably. He trusted his own instincts and he couldn’t bring himself to the conclusion that Harrison was responsible, but unfortunately Gardiner had chosen now to finally start talking some sense. Logically, from what he had seen on the camera, Harrison was the only person who could possibly have done it but, as far as Blake was concerned, that was purely circumstantial at this point. After all, logic hardly came into a situation where someone had been murdered in such a baffling way.
That evening, they made their way back to the police station. As the afternoon had drawn on, Blake and Gardiner’s relationship had become ever more fraught. Gardiner’s insistence that Harrison was the culprit for Daniel Donaldson’s murder grew and grew despite the fact that he couldn’t produce a single piece of solid evidence to support his theory. The problem was that Blake couldn’t produce any to counter his argument with either, aside from the fact that Harrison, to him, just didn’t seem capable.
By the time they’d driven back to the police station, in close confinement with each other, a heated discussion had developed into a full blown argument.
Blake stormed into the station, slamming the door to the conference room open as he entered with Gardiner in furious pursuit.
“ So, like I’ve asked you, at least a hundred times, give me one, just one, good reason we can charge anybody for Donaldson’s death at this stage?!” Blake shouted, leaning against one of the desks and glaring at Gardiner.