‘Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it,’ said Delilah, feeling guilty all over again.
The door opened and Danny Bradley came in, carrying a tray of tea and a plate piled high with doughnuts. Delilah put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile.
‘Thanks, Danny,’ said Sergeant Clayton. ‘You missed all the action while you were over at the hospital yesterday.’
‘Action, Sarge?’ asked Danny, face innocent.
‘Turns out we had a murderer on the loose. Who’d have thought it? In Bruncliffe, of all places. You won’t be wanting to leave us for the Met now, will you?’
Danny winked at Samson and Delilah from behind his boss’s back.
‘Tell you what, lad, pull up a chair and you can take the notes. Give you your first taste of a murder investigation.’ Sergeant Clayton extracted a notepad from the mountain of paper on the desk and passed it to the young constable with a pen. ‘Right, then. Where’s the best place to start?’
* * *
It took them over an hour. To explain about the Speedy Date nights. To describe how their suspicions had come about. To justify why they hadn’t come forward earlier. And to outline their theories as to how the murders had been carried out. All the while, Danny Bradley made notes and Sergeant Clayton listened with growing astonishment.
‘So you’re telling me Rob Harrison was killing these men because they tried to date Lucy Metcalfe?’ he finally asked, eyes wide with disbelief.
Delilah nodded.
‘Bugger me! That’d put you off dating for a while. What was he – jealous or something?’
‘I don’t think it was that simple,’ said Delilah. ‘Rob served with Ryan out in Iraq and he’d been something of a mentor for him. Then he quit the army and, a couple of years later, Ryan gets killed in Afghanistan. I think Rob was left feeling responsible for looking after Lucy. And maybe even guilty that he’d survived and Ryan hadn’t.’
‘So when Lucy started getting attention from other men, he felt it was his place to stop it,’ said the sergeant. ‘Some twisted version of loyalty to Ryan.’
Delilah shrugged. ‘Something like that. Although I doubt we’ll ever know the whole truth of it.’ She thought about the stricken look on the stonemason’s face as the caravan had exploded. And the fact that he’d fallen to his death without so much as a scream.
‘But you reckon it was premeditated enough that Harrison turned round the CCTV camera at the Old Station?’
‘Worse than that. He killed a sheep to use as bait for Tom Alderson,’ said Samson. ‘And when I spoke to Bill Alderson yesterday, he told me Rob had worked on the farm repairing the stone wall next to the barn where the quad bike was kept.’
‘What are you suggesting? That he checked out the bike while he was there?’ The sergeant looked unconvinced. ‘That’d be a hell of a coincidence. The wall falling down and him getting the call to fix it.’
Samson shook his head. ‘Ask the Aldersons. You’ll probably find that the wall fell down suddenly and Rob turned up just at the right moment.’
‘You mean he knocked it down so he could work there?’
‘So he could check out the bike. Like I said, the man was thorough, so I wouldn’t put any of that past him.’
‘He was thorough all right,’ conceded Sergeant Clayton. ‘We found a laptop in his van with a Hotmail account on it under the name of Dr Howson. That’s how he set up the viewing that nearly cost Stuart Lister his life.’
‘Then he claimed a shoulder injury to get him out of the darts match…’
‘Which left him free to try to kill Stuart.’ Delilah shuddered. ‘Are you going to carry out a full investigation?’
The sergeant nodded. ‘We’re hoping to discover enough up at High Laithe and at Harrison’s place to tie him to all of the deaths,’ he said. ‘We’ve already recovered a section of pipe with blood on it, which we think is the weapon that was used to knock Harry Furness out. Plus a roll of gaffer tape which could have been used to hold open the throttle on Tom’s quad bike. Forensics are heading out to the Alderson farm to see if they can gather any fibres off the bike, so we can do a comparison.
‘Then there’s the empty jerrycan of petrol of course, which is pretty damning; and we found Lucy’s car tucked out of sight behind the barn, so that might provide more evidence. I’ve also got men checking the stolen tractor that was used in the attack on Stuart Lister for fingerprints, in the hope Harrison got careless. But we don’t have much to go on for the deaths of Richard Hargreaves or Martin Foster.’
‘It’s probably worth going over the CCTV footage from the Old Station again,’ said Samson, glancing over at Constable Bradley with a discreet wink. ‘You never know, something might turn up that points the finger of suspicion Rob’s way.’
Danny cleared his throat. ‘I’m happy to do that, Sarge,’ he said, face completely straight.
‘Good lad,’ said his sergeant.
‘And maybe you could try soil analysis in Martin Foster’s case,’ said Delilah. ‘I’m sure Elaine Bullock will be able to tell you if there’s any substance unique to Gordale Scar, where Martin was killed. If that could be matched to something on Rob Harrison’s shoes…’
‘Crikey, Delilah!’ Sergeant Clayton raised his eyebrows in amusement. ‘You want to watch it. O’Brien’s turning you into a proper detective.’
Delilah blushed.
‘But what I can’t understand,’ continued the sergeant, ‘is how Harrison knew who’d tried to contact Lucy through the dating website.’
Delilah was about to speak when Samson interrupted. ‘He used to sneak a look at Nathan’s phone. Whenever the kid was around, which was a lot, Rob would make some excuse to borrow his mobile and he’d check the dating app.’
‘You mean, this app that Nathan had rigged to stop his mother getting any date notifications? Harrison got the men’s names off that?’
‘Exactly.’ Samson could feel the weight of Delilah’s stare, but he didn’t look at her. ‘And he told me up at the caravan yesterday that when he heard the lad was going away for a few days and leaving the mobile behind, he seized the opportunity and stole it.’
‘So he could monitor the app in Nathan’s absence? Which is how Stuart Lister and Harry Furness were attacked.’ Sergeant Clayton scratched his head while Delilah studied her nails, which she was suddenly fascinated by.
‘Makes sense, I suppose,’ said the sergeant, sitting back in his chair. ‘Right, I think that’ll do us for now. If we have any questions, we know where to find you.’ And with a flourish, he pulled Samson’s business card out of a drawer and placed it on his desk. ‘Good to have you around, O’Brien,’ he said, holding out a hand.
Samson smiled, shook hands and followed Delilah out of the station. She waited until they were across the road before accosting him.
‘Why did you lie?’ she asked, pausing on the corner of the marketplace.
‘About what?’
She elbowed him and he groaned. ‘Sorry, I forgot about your ribs,’ she said. ‘But you know what I mean. Why did you say Rob stole Nathan’s phone?’
‘Because, Delilah, that’s what Rob told me.’ He stared at her and then looked away. ‘Nathan’s fourteen. He’s lost his dad. He’s worried about his mother moving on, and losing the memory of his father. So he tries to stop it by changing her online dating account. And in his misery, he talks to the man who’s always up at the caravan. The man who seems to understand his concerns. But that man takes the information and decides to go one step further, by killing the men trying to date Nathan’s mother.’ Samson shook his head. ‘No one should have to carry the guilt for the actions of someone that deranged. Even if Nathan left his phone with Rob, it was done simply to prevent any contact with Lucy getting through. Not for the purposes it was used for.’
He looked back at Delilah. ‘So, like I said. Rob told me he stole Nathan’s phone from the caravan. And I defy anyone to prove that he didn’t.’
Delilah held his gaze and the
n she smiled and slipped her arm carefully through his, mindful of his bandaged sides.
‘Miss Metcalfe,’ said Samson with a wicked grin, ‘are you aware that you’re linking arms with the black sheep of Bruncliffe? And in such a public place?’
She nodded, head held high. ‘Yes, I am. And I defy anyone to say anything about it.’
He laughed and they walked back to the office, turning quite a few heads as they went.
* * *
By late morning they were still turning heads as they walked along the sterile corridors of the hospital. This time, however, it was Samson that was the cause, nurses staring as he passed, his face peppered with cuts and his gait stiffened by his broken ribs. Not all of the attention was from a purely clinical perspective, Delilah noted wryly, as yet another young member of staff flashed him a warm smile.
‘Who knew the maimed look could be so appealing?’ she remarked, subconsciously lengthening her stride.
Samson grinned, matching her step-for-step, despite the twinges in his side. ‘It’s not my fault if the female species is naturally attracted to men of action—Oof!’ He doubled over as the box Delilah was carrying caught him in the stomach.
‘You can carry your own cake, Mr Action Man,’ she muttered with a dark look. ‘And if you like all this medical attention, I can easily arrange for you to have that spare bed next to Stuart Lister.’
She gestured back in the direction of the side ward they had just left after visiting the hapless estate agent. Badly bruised and with his left leg in a cast following his operation, Stuart had looked even more delicate than normal. But he’d been in good spirits, and when Delilah had expressed regret for placing him inadvertently in harm’s way, he’d brushed aside her apologies. Instead, to Samson’s astonishment, he’d asked shyly if she could sign him up for the Christmas Speedy Date night.
Shaking his head at the foolhardiness of youth – and the quicksilver temper of the woman now stalking down the corridor ahead of him – Samson resumed walking. When he turned a corner and heard loud laughter, Delilah waiting for him at an open door, he froze.
‘They won’t bite,’ Delilah murmured, reading his thoughts.
‘I’m not so sure,’ he muttered. Holding the cake box in front of him like a shield, he stepped into the doorway.
The room was full of Metcalfes.
Lucy Metcalfe was propped up in bed, dark-blonde hair tied back, features pale and smudges of exhaustion under her eyes. But at least those eyes were clear and alert, free of the drugs Rob Harrison had given her the day before.
Gathered around the bed were her family. Nathan was sitting at the top end, looking every bit as pale as his mother; her parents were next to him; Peggy and Ted Metcalfe were sitting opposite; Will and Ash were standing behind them; and Harry Furness, dressed and ready to be discharged with only a white bandage around his head as proof of his ordeal, was perched on the foot of the bed, saying something that had them all laughing.
‘My hero!’ said Lucy, spotting Samson on the threshold, a huge smile lighting up her face.
‘And he’s brought the cake!’ said Harry, making the room dissolve into laughter again.
‘Morning, all,’ said Samson, passing the box to Lucy, the card that he’d rescued on top of it. ‘Good to see everyone in such fine spirits.’
‘Morning, Samson,’ said Lucy, pulling him down into a hug as he bent to greet her. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, holding onto him fiercely. ‘You saved my life. And you too, Delilah!’
Samson blushed, straightening up and stepping back to stand next to Harry. ‘Not sure about that. Will and Nathan were there, too.’
‘Aye, but they wouldn’t have done it in such style,’ said Harry, grinning. ‘Underpants and no cape. You’re a regular superhero now, lad!’
‘He’s already had the Craven Herald calling,’ said Delilah, enjoying Samson’s discomfort. ‘And Look North have asked him to go on TV tonight.’
‘Are you going to do it?’ asked Ash.
Samson glowered at him. ‘Not bloody likely.’
‘It could be good for business,’ said Harry, only half-joking.
‘Good for business?’ Samson laughed. ‘I don’t need the TV for that. My phone hasn’t stopped ringing all morning. You’d be surprised how many people in Bruncliffe suddenly need a detective.’
‘Especially one who looks so good in boxers,’ said Delilah dryly.
Samson grinned. ‘I can’t help it if word’s got round.’
‘What about you, Delilah?’ asked Lucy, concern clouding her face. ‘Won’t all this have an impact on the Dales Dating Agency?’
Delilah shrugged. ‘It’s too early to tell. Although that didn’t stop Uncle Woolly from calling me from the bank this morning, anxious that another Bruncliffe enterprise might be about to meet its demise. Thankfully I was able to reassure him that the next Speedy Date night is almost full. I suppose if people don’t like the connection to what happened, I’ll start to get cancellations. But so far, there haven’t been any. In fact I had two messages on my phone this morning from people wanting to join.’
Ash shook his head. ‘As Seth would say, there’s nowt so queer as folk!’
‘Enough about business,’ said Will, pointing at the soot-stained box on the bed, which was looking slightly crushed around the edges, its ribbon bedraggled and torn. ‘What’s so special about that cake?’
‘Yeah,’ said Samson, looking at Lucy. ‘You were begging me not to forget it. Thought you weren’t going to leave without it, at one point. Why was it so important?’
Lucy looked shamefaced. ‘I don’t know. I was out of my mind having all sorts of hallucinations, and in all of that delirium, it was the only lucid thought I had. Save the cake.’ She shrugged, unsure how to tell them that, in her befuddled state, the cake had become synonymous with her son and she’d been paralysed with fear at the thought of abandoning it. ‘Here,’ she said, pushing the box towards Nathan. ‘I made it for you coming home, love. To celebrate your Duke of Edinburgh Award adventure.’
Nathan glanced down at the box and then up at his mother, blinking away tears. Then he ripped off the paper, lifted the lid and they all craned forward.
‘Damn!’ said Samson. For he was staring down at something that had once resembled a cake – before it had been catapulted through the air and back to earth with a tremendous jolt. Now it was a squashed slab of green sponge with a blue streak in the middle, and cream oozing out of the side. But still, despite all the trauma, perched atop this misshapen creation was a perfect ridge tent, a small figure lying in it with his hands behind his head.
‘It was supposed to be a tent by a mountain stream,’ said Lucy, with a rueful smile. ‘And that’s you.’
‘It’s brilliant, Mum,’ said Nathan, voice hoarse. ‘Thanks.’
Lucy nodded and reached her hand out to her boy. ‘And guess what,’ she said, pulling him close and striving for a lighter note. ‘Now we don’t have the caravan, there are no more excuses for not getting the barn finished. With a bit of luck, you might have a proper bedroom by Christmas. But there’ll be some rough living before that, as we’ll be camping out in there to start with.’
‘I don’t mind where we live,’ Nathan muttered. ‘As long as you’re okay.’
‘I’ll sort the barn out, Lucy,’ said Ash. ‘I’ve got a few favours I can call in and I’ll work weekends on it. Will can help when he’s free, can’t you, big brother?’ Will was already nodding in agreement. ‘And Samson? You game to pitch in with some free labour?’
‘Not totally free,’ protested Lucy. ‘I can pay. And I make a mean lunch!’
Samson grinned. ‘You had me at lunch,’ he said, choosing to ignore the frown that had darkened Will Metcalfe’s brow.
‘Talking of food,’ said Ash. ‘Anyone got something for cutting that cake? I’m starving.’
‘Here.’ Delilah passed her brother a knife and a pack of paper plates. ‘Thought I might get a taste if I brought these.’
‘Seeing as Harry and I nearly died yesterday, I reckon we get the biggest slices,’ countered Lucy.
But Harry was shaking his head. ‘None for me,’ he said, regret in his eyes. ‘I’m watching my weight.’
‘As of when?’ asked Ash.
‘As of a certain person paying him a visit yesterday evening,’ said Delilah with a knowing wink, making Harry squirm.
‘Who came to see you?’ demanded Ash, and the auctioneer began to blush.
‘Sarah Mitchell,’ he said.
‘What? From the Speedy Date night?’ asked Samson. ‘How did she know you were here?’
‘Beats me.’
Delilah held back a smile. It hadn’t taken much. In a small attempt to make amends for all the lives that had been manipulated and upset by the actions of Rob Harrison, she’d spent a bit of time on the dating agency website when she got back to the office the day before. As a result, Hannah Wilson – the flame-haired librarian who’d been briefly cast in the role of chief suspect, thanks in part to what had transpired to be an innocent trip to the school with the mobile library – would have received a flurry of date requests, all delivered a few days late with apologies for a glitch in the Dales Dating Agency app. Hopefully that would compensate for Samson cancelling their date.
Likewise, Delilah had accessed Sarah Mitchell’s data from the last Speedy Date night and had been overjoyed to see there was a direct match: someone who’d tried to contact the ecologist was the one person she herself had singled out for a follow-up date.
Drawing back the strings on her bow, Delilah had played Cupid and made it happen. After breaking the news that Samson would not be able to make the planned rendezvous in the Coach and Horses, she’d given Sarah directions to the hospital instead. Judging by the smile spreading across Harry’s ruddy face, he hadn’t objected.
Date with Death Page 29