DCI Thatcher Yorkshire Crime Thrillers: Books 1-3

by Oliver Davies

  “Any idea as to what time that might have been? We’re trying to narrow down a window of when this could have happened.”

  “You know I do, because Charlie, dear friend, was showing me his new watch that does something very clever on the hour. It was about ten, when he showed me,” he said, “and we were out there for a while longer after that.”

  Lord Hocking locked it at around seven, and the place started to clear out by midnight; not any easy window of time to navigate, but an alibi was an alibi.

  “And there was nothing, or no one, who seemed out of sorts?”

  “Nope. Everyone was in fine form.”

  “Thank you, Mr Windham,” I said with a smile.

  He nodded, clapping his arms down on the chair before getting up and returning to his table.

  “Who next?” Mills asked me. I looked over his shoulder to the table, studying their faces.

  “Miss O’Donovan looks like she might fall asleep soon,” I remarked. “Better speak to her.”

  Mills nodded and got up, walking over the table. I watched as he politely indicated her over to the chairs. She nodded, wearily, and used her brother’s shoulder to hoist herself up and drift over to the chairs. She was wearing a dress still, the long silky skirt swishing around her legs, only she now had a large, knitted jumper several sizes too big thrown over the top.

  “Detectives,” she murmured, settling herself in the chair.

  “Thank you, Miss O’Donovan.” I leant forward, bracing my arms on my knees. “We understand that you’ve been staying here for a few days with Mr Windham?”

  She nodded.

  “And that your brother,” I continued, “joined you last night for the party?”

  “He did. Got here just in time for dinner,” she said. “About half six.”

  “Do you remember much from the evening?” I asked her.

  She lifted her bloodshot eyes to me with a hapless expression and smiled. “Bits and pieces. I’m told I passed out at a certain point. Nathan!” she called over her shoulder. “When did I pass out?”

  “Around eleven?” he called back. “Had to carry you to your room, you lightweight.”

  She turned back. “I blame the gin,” she said, “never sits right with me.”

  “Nor me,” I told her. “Do you remember seeing anything strange last night? Before you went to bed?”

  “Not really. Didn’t know all the guests, but Martin seemed to know everyone by name. I’ve only been here once before, last year.”

  “You don’t recall seeing anything odd?”

  “No,” she shrugged, “but I don’t know how helpful I can really be here, boys.”

  Well, given that she was unconscious around the time I’d pin this whole thing occurring, I’d say she was very much helping herself.

  “Thank you, Miss O’Donovan.”

  “Would you like me to send my brother over?”

  “Please.”

  “Feels like school,” she muttered as she stood up, “only without the nuns.”

  Mills chuckled as she hobbled back to the table, swiping at her brother’s shoulder before she shooed him over.

  “Sorry about her,” he said as he sat down. “Doesn’t know her limits sometimes.”

  “It’s a lucky thing she had you here,” Mills pointed out.

  Nathan laughed, running his hand over his face. “Truth be told I only really came to see Rose. Turns out she wasn’t even here! Bit of family bonding though.” He glanced fondly to his sister. “Never a bad thing.”

  “You and Rose Hocking are an item?”

  “No. Not yet,” he added hopefully.

  “What you can tell us about last night, Mr O’Donovan?”

  “I got here around half six, quarter to seven. In time for dinner, of course. Sadie made me change first, but then I mostly stuck with her for the evening. And Rupert, naturally. After I carried her majesty over there to bed, I ended up in the drawing room, playing cards with a few lads. Navin was there, but I can't remember the rest of them.”

  “And was there anything or anyone that caught your eye?” Mills asked him. “Anything strange or unusual?”

  “Not really. I mean some of the waiters looked a bit peeved. You would be peeved too, wouldn’t you? Standing around all night serving drinks but not having one yourself.”

  “Were you aware of the study?” I asked. “Lord Hocking’s wish that no one went down there?”

  “Announced it at dinner, he did. I don’t even know where it is,” he whispered. “House is a bloody maze. Could barely find the toilet.”

  “Did you see any member of staff in particular?”

  “No, not really. Sort of the point isn’t it? Not supposed to notice them.”

  “Thank you, Nathan.” I sat back again, and he nodded, getting up and going back to the table.

  “Sir?” Mills asked.

  “I hate doing questioning like this,” I muttered. “It’s so boring.”

  He smiled. “We could take the couples together?”

  “Why not? Just to get their alibis. The Patels first, please, Mills.”

  He nodded, getting up and heading to the couple. They seemed, out of everyone else at the table, the most put together. They looked like they had showered and had a decent few hours of sleep before trundling down here.

  Mr Patel sat his wife down in the chair, dragging a spare one over for himself as Mills sat down.

  “Mr and Mrs Patel, thank you for doing this.”

  “Not at all,” she said quickly. “Any way we can help, truly.”

  “You’re good friends with Lord and Lady Hocking?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Navin nodded, “many years now. Our son went to school with Henry.”

  “Was your son here last night?”

  “No, had to miss it this year. He’s in Brussels,” he told us proudly. “Work business.”

  “Very impressive. Can you tell us anything about last night?”

  “I wasn’t drinking,” Kareena told us, “so I might remember more than this one.” She squeezed her husband’s hand good naturedly.

  “We take turns,” he explained to us. “It’s a system we took up a few years ago after our third time at this party.”

  “Must have been quite the evening to lead to such a system.”

  “Oh, it was,” he shook his head darkly.

  “We know that dinner was at seven, and at this point, Lord Hocking locked his office. At midnight, the party began to simmer down, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, this is the window of time we’re most interested in.”

  “Oh, well. We didn’t stick together much,” Kareena said. “You were off playing cards for a few hours.”

  “It wasn’t a few hours, surely?”

  “No, it was. I had to come and get him,” she told me with a wink.

  “What were you doing?”

  “I was with Lady Hocking for some time, and Eloise. Lots of mingling,” she said, “I remember seeing Nathan carrying Sadie upstairs, and then thinking it was time to get Navin. Oh!” She looked up suddenly. “At nine, Eloise called her mother to check on the babies. I was with her then, I remember that.”

  I watched from the corner of my eye as Mills made a note. This would be one hell of a timeline when it was said and done.

  “So, you were both upstairs by midnight?”

  “We were. Need to have a good night's rest.”

  “Thank you both.” I smiled at them. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  They smiled cheerily and headed back to their plates of food.

  “Last ones,” Mills muttered, standing and waving to the young men who quickly got up and came over.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” I said as they sat. “We hope this won’t take up too much time.”

  “We are happy to help,” Tommy said, his hand clasped in his husband’s.

  “How long have you known Lord and Lady Hocking?”

  “Not too long, really. A few years, I be
lieve. This our third time being invited,” he added with a touch of pride.

  “And you are familiar with the house, with Lord Hocking’s collection?”

  “We’ve not been inside the study,” Jacob said, “but we know it’s important to him. It is good to have a private place for yourself.”

  “That it is. Can you tell us anything about last night that might be useful to us?”

  They shared a look and then turned back to us, leaning forward slightly.

  “I did see this one small thing when I was looking for Jacob at one point,” Tommy said. “One of the waitresses came from the hallway, the one the study lies down.”

  “Was she carrying anything?” Mills asked.

  “Only the tray. But I thought that was odd, since there would not be anyone needing drinks down there.”

  “Do have any idea what time this might have been?” I asked him.

  “Perhaps, eleven? Just before I found you,” he said to Jacob, who nodded in confirmation.

  “Can you describe the waitress?” I asked.

  He shook his head, dismissively. “She was a waitress. A tray, a little apron. Not very distinguishing but then they never are, really, are they?”

  “And they had those vans,” his husband added. “Easy to get things into, those vans.”

  I frowned and leant back in my chair, studying the men before looking to Mills. He met my gaze and gave a slight jerk of the shoulder. Not much to go on, but someone being down that hall at that time of night was interesting.

  “You suspect,” I turned back to them, “that this was the staff?”

  “Who else?”

  “Who else, indeed,” I replied, standing up abruptly.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. Everyone,” I addressed the room, “please do get in touch if you think of anything else that might be of use to us.”

  As I strode from the room, I called back. “Mills.”

  “Talk to the staff?” he asked once he caught up, and we were out of earshot from the table.

  “Which staff, Mills? There were more than one here last night.”

  Five

  Thatcher

  We made our way, somehow, through the labyrinth of rooms back to the entrance hall, where Henry and Eloise stood. He was helping her into her coat when we emerged from the dark corridor,

  “Ah, detectives. I hope our guests were of some help?”

  “Some. It’s helping us to get a better picture of the night.”

  “Are you leaving?” Mills asked as Eloise pulled a handbag over her shoulder

  “Have to go and pick the twins up from nursery. Did I need to stay here?” she asked uncertainly.

  “No, we’re about done here. Just the staff to talk to, if we may.”

  “Of course.” Henry kissed his wife’s cheek and took us out through the front door, down onto the drive and round the back to where the vans were being steadily loaded with the borrowed glasses and plates.

  “I would have thought that you would have enough cutlery and glassware in that place to suffice for a party,” I commented to Henry. He slowed his pace, sticking his hands into his pockets.

  “Not as much as you’d think. Most of it is very old, and after one too many breakages over the years, this was thought to be the better solution. They provide it all themselves.” He nodded to the logo on the side of the van. “Makes it an easier transaction overall.”

  “Your mother mentioned that you’ve been using this company for some time,” I recalled.

  “We have.”

  “No trouble with them before?”

  “No,” he let out a long breath, “shame really. They’ve always been brilliant before. I suppose we’ll have to find a new company.”

  “Don’t go counting your chickens before they hatch, Mr Hocking. This could all be a misunderstanding. Like I told your mother, we suspect that this has a more personal incentive.”

  “Can’t think of anyone who would do that.” He shrugged. “Everyone who knows father well enough to have seen that painting, and there are very few of them,” he added, “are too beloved to have done it.”

  “There’s no one else,” I asked, “no one from the past, no one who might have something against your father or your family?”

  He turned to the house, looking up at the windows and the sandstone bricks,

  “No,” he eventually said shortly, coming to a stop a few metres from the van. A woman with a clipboard, dressed in a smart black dress stood in front of it, watching us.

  “That’s Maria Russo,” he told us. “She owns the company. She’ll have all the information you need. She’s got about ten of them here this morning to finish the cleaning, and all them were here last night.” He lifted his face into the sun. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Not right now, Mr Hocking. Thank you,” I said sincerely. He smiled, taking a few steps backwards before jogging over to his wife, opening her car door for her.

  “They’re a very helpful family,” Mills said as he waved her off and returned to the house.

  “They are, aren’t they?”

  “At first, I thought this might be an insurance thing. But it’s not.”

  “No, it isn’t. Seems very certain that no friends of theirs would do something like this,” I commented.

  He glanced sideways at me. “But you suspect otherwise.”

  “They made the effort, Mills,” I said quietly as we walked toward Ms Russo. “They made the effort to get into the study and steal that one particular painting.”

  “Might have to brush up on some art history,” he replied as the woman strode out to meet us.

  “You’re the police?” she asked as she brushed an errant hair from her face, her expression determined.

  “We are. Detective Inspector Thatcher and Detective Sergeant Mills.”

  “Maria Russo,” she looked worried, “I can assure you, detectives, that none of my staff would do something like this. They are all very loyal, very honest people.” She sounded certain, protective over her team. I didn’t blame her for being so.

  “We’ve heard that you have been catering for this party for some years?”

  “We have.” She squared her shoulders. “Not a single problem, never one complaint. They even asked for us to do their New Year’s Eve once or twice.”

  “And have your staff been with you long?”

  “Most of them. We’re a family company, inspector,” she told me. “We don’t chop and change our staff a lot. Only when someone wants to move on.”

  “How many of them were working last night?”

  “Fourteen. And I was also here.”

  “Have they all worked in this house before?”

  “I have two new girls: they’ve been with us since January. They’re here for the first time, but I train them well,” she said proudly. She led us around the back of the van, the doors wide open, to the gathering of people loitered around. Some of them sat, squished in the back of the van, a few leant against the side, and three of them sat on the ground, sharing a cigarette.

  “Everyone,” Maria announced, drawing their attention. They were a mixed bunch. I had been expecting a group of youths, in between college and university, but that was a mistake to assume. A mixture of ages, an older lady with a younger leaning on her shoulder, two young lads and a girl smoking with an older gentleman; all of them well presented, fresh-faced. A family company it very much seemed to be.

  “These are the detectives,” she introduced us. “They have a few questions for you about last night. I will be inside if I am needed. Doing some inventory.”

  “By all means.” I stood aside, letting her pass, and turned to the group.

  “We’re not thieves,” one of the lads called in a thick accent.

  “I never said you were,” I replied, dragging an empty crate over and sitting on it. Mills stood to my side, notebook not in site, hands in his pockets.

  “They think we are,” another one piped up.

  “You have
a good reputation as being very reliable staff.” I picked off some lint from my coat. “The family thinks highly of you, trusts you.”

  “They did,” a girl added glumly. “Now they think we’re thieves, and we lose one of our best clients.”

  “All I’m asking,” I said evenly, “is for some information about last night. You were all working, sober, which is more than can be said for them lot.” I jerked my thumb to the house behind me. “So if any of you saw anything different, anything out of sorts, that’s all we want to know.”

  There was a shared, communal pause, where they all looked at each other.

  “You said there were people down the hallway, Nadia,” the older woman looked to one of the younger girls on the floor, “the one down by the study.”

  Mills shifted his weight beside me. She must be the waitress from the hallway. She looked up from beneath a curtain of shining black hair, picking at the callouses on her hands. She looked to be in her late twenties, huddled in a large cardigan.

  “Some of them,” she said quietly, looking over my shoulder to the house, “not the family, some other ones. Young.”

  “What were they doing down there?”

  “Just talking, drinking. I heard them as I was picking up glasses, so I went to check, and reminded them that Lord Hocking said it’s off-limits.”

  “Unnerved you a bit, didn’t they, lass?” the old man said, rubbing her shoulder.

  “How so?” Mills asked.

  “Drunk young man,” she shrugged. “Thought he’d try to have a chat with me.”

  “Did he do anything?” I asked her carefully.

  “No,” she shook her head, “his friends called him away. I picked up the glasses they left behind and went to find Will.” She smiled at the young man with the cigarette. “Didn’t much feel like working on my own after that, so I went out for a quick smoke.”

  “Nadia’s new,” one of the younger lads called, “her and Jen.” He nodded to the girl leaning against the van, her hair dyed with streaks of purple.

  “It can be daunting in a place like that, on your first time.”