‘Perhaps you don’t,’ Jim said.
They were both quiet for a moment.
‘You heard from Harry?’ Matt asked, making his way over to the kettle and getting on with a task they all regarded as the first job of the day, sorting out a good mug of tea.
‘Why, is something up?’
‘Got a message from him that he’s been up Snaizeholme since the early hours with Dave Calvert and, would you believe it, Rebecca Sowerby.’
‘The pathologist?’ Jim said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Matt said. ‘Not sure what’s gone on, like, but we’re bound to find out soon enough, I’m sure.’
‘He’s not going to be in the best of moods then, is he?’ Jim said.
Matt laughed again.
‘When is he ever?’
‘Oh, he’s not that bad,’ Jim said, as Matt sat down, a steaming mug of tea now in his hand. ‘Bark’s worse than his bite and all that.’
Fly slipped from his cushion and nuzzled Matt’s free hand.
‘True,’ Matt said, stroking the dog. ‘Though I do wonder sometimes.’
‘How do you mean?’
Matt took a sip of his tea.
‘I’m just saying that I’m not sure I’d like to see him angry, if you know what I mean.’
‘You make him sound like the Hulk!’
‘Maybe I do,’ Matt said. ‘Maybe I do. I’m just saying that I reckon he keeps himself in check. And I’m more than a little glad that he does. Can’t imagine it’s all that pretty if whatever’s hidden deep down in that old bugger boils over.’
‘No, perhaps you’re right,’ Jim said. ‘Anyway, what are you on with today?’
‘What day is it?’
‘Wednesday,’ Jim said. ‘At least, I think it is.’
‘You don’t sound too confident about that.’
‘No, it was market day yesterday, wasn’t it? So, it’s definitely Wednesday.’
‘You’re right, it was,’ Matt said. ‘Did you see that new butcher’s stall?’
‘I did,’ said Jim. ‘Can’t see it doing all that well, can you? Not in Hawes, anyway. Competition is too strong. What’s it like?’
‘Expensive,’ Matt said. ‘All fancy-pants packaging and over-the-top recipes for its pies and sausages. I mean, I’m all for trying new things, but I’m not sure I want a beef, chilli, and chocolate sausage!’
‘You’re having a laugh!’
‘I’m serious!’ Matt said, then held up a hand and started to count through the various flavours he’d discovered. ‘Beef, chilli, and chocolate; lamb and mint; lamb, rosemary, and red wine; beef and Guinness; pork, apple, and cider; vodka and Red Bull! There’s even Irn Bru!’
Jim couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
‘Vodka and Red Bull? Irn Bru? In a sausage?’
‘I know, right?’ Matt said, shaking his head. ‘Irn Bru!’
‘Who’d buy that, then?’ Jim asked, but then he saw the grin on Matt’s face.
‘You didn’t.’
‘I did.’
Jim couldn’t help laughing.
‘And?’ he asked. ‘What were they like?’
Matt placed his mug down on a nearby table, then rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
‘Interesting,’ he said.
‘In a good way or bad?’ Jim asked.
‘Very good indeed, actually,’ Matt said. ‘Too good, if I’m honest. I ate a pound of the buggers all by myself.’
‘You’re having a laugh!’
‘I’m of a mind that those Irn Bru sausages are possibly dangerous,’ Matt said, tapping his stomach as though it was still full. ‘So dangerous, in fact, that I’m half wondering if we should get in touch with Police Scotland and have a word. We’ve got enough problems of our own without addictive meat products from the Highlands turning up on our doorstep!’
Jim pulled out his phone and put it to his ear.
‘Hello? Yes, is that the Fort William constabulary? We’ve got a problem with some sausages…’
Another voice joined in the conversation and Jim and Matt turned to see Detective Inspector Gordanian Haig at the door.
‘Fort William?’ she said.
‘Went there on a Scout Camp years ago,’ Jim said. ‘Well, not to the Fort as such. We camped down by a river somewhere close by, I think. But we visited the place a fair bit, for food and souvenirs.’
‘Very interesting,’ Gordy said. ‘And you’re phoning the station there to talk about sausages, are you?’
Jim stuffed his phone back into a pocket.
‘If that’s them on the phone now,’ Gordy said, ‘could you do me a favour and ask them to pop round to the Nevis Bakery for me? They do these haggis, neeps and tatties pies to die for!’
‘You’re kidding!’ Matt said, and Jim was pretty sure that the DI was drooling.
‘Do I look like a kidder?’ Gordy said. ‘Honestly, get yourself up there when you can, grab a pie from them, and make sure you nip into JJ’s café for a breakfast.’
‘I think I need to sit down,’ Matt said. Then he looked over at Gordy and added, ‘Didn’t think you were over this way today. Something up?’
‘Neither did I,’ Gordy replied. ‘And yes, there is. I had a call.’
‘Who from?’ Jim asked.
‘Me,’ interrupted another voice, gruff and hard enough to bring with it the promise of dark storm clouds on the brightest, cloud-free day.
Jim looked over to see Detective Chief Inspector Grimm.
‘Hi, boss,’ he said, then smiled and lifted his mug. ‘Tea?’
Chapter Five
Harry was sitting in a corner of the office watching everyone begin their day with the usual chatter and banter that could only come with a group of people who knew each other very, very well. And they did both with a relaxed ease born of years sharing their lives, the team, not just professional work colleagues, but—and this was the bit which really surprised him—friends. Even someone as new as Police Constable Jadyn Okri joined in as though he had been with the others his whole life.
Having worked with a good number of other such teams in his time, Harry was confident that none of them had ever been quite like the one he was now responsible for in Wensleydale. A part of him wondered if some of the differences he noticed wasn’t the team at all, but actually himself. Because, after closing in on nearly a year in the Dales, the person he was now had changed dramatically from who he had been back in Bristol, not that he was ever for letting on or showing it to those around him if he could help it.
Before signing up to a life in the police, Harry had been a soldier, a Para no less, and the bonds there, between the soldiers, whatever their rank, were ferociously strong. They had to be, because the Paras were the sharp end of the Army, hard as nails fighters generally regarded as the best of the best, particularly by themselves. Which didn’t always go down too well with other regiments, but that was just the way of things, really.
The Special Air Service—the SAS—drew a large number of their troopers from the ranks of the Paras, which said a lot. One of many secrets Harry carried was that he had been a good way through Selection—the process of getting into the SAS—himself, when life had changed and he’d taken another route, one which had somehow led him to where he was right now, drinking tea and having a young sheepdog nuzzle his hand.
In the police, the various teams Harry had worked with had been a rich mix of good, bad, and absolutely bloody awful. The professionalism had never been in question, most of the time, anyway, but the people? Well, Harry had excelled at not getting on with more than his fair share of them.
In the Paras, it had all been about looking out for each other, because in theatre your lives were in each other’s hands. In the police, there had been a fair amount of that, but there had also been a good number of those looking out for number one. Not just jobsworths, but individuals who would happily shop you just to get ahead. Harry didn’t like those people at all. An
d he’d never held back on telling them so, often brazenly stating that the people he worked with were not his friends. It was a distinction he liked and one he’d used almost as a protective shield. Then his life had taken a dramatic turn, he’d moved to the dales and everything about it had changed, whether he’d wanted it to or not.
So far, and discounting Graham Swift, the practically invisible Detective Superintendent Harry had to report to both as often as necessary and as little as possible, he’d not found this to be a trait in any single member of his new team. No, they weren’t the Paras, and of that Harry was glad, though they did all display a very high degree of undying loyalty to each other, which could on occasion quickly become a healthy disregard for their own wellbeing if one of the others was in a bit of a scrape.
Harry leaned forward and cupped Fly’s head in his large, calloused, and scarred hands, staring into the animal’s deep brown eyes, the irises flecked with a rich glimmer of gold.
‘Best I get the day started, don’t you think?’ Harry said.
Fly simply stared up at Harry, his tail whumping gently on the carpeted floor.
Harry let go of Fly’s head and rose to his feet, a movement which had the immediate effect of causing the various conversations in the room to shut down, like water turned off at a tap.
Harry saw Matt glance over to catch his attention.
‘You want the Action Book, boss?’
‘Is there much in it we need to go through?’
Matt shrugged as Gordy pulled the book from a cabinet and opened it.
‘To be honest,’ Gordy said, ‘most of us know what we’re on with today, I think, am I right?’
By now, the rest of the team had gathered around and Harry had walked over to stand between Matt and Gordy.
Gordy’s question was answered by nods.
Gordy said, ‘Want me to run through what we’ve got on?’
‘Anything urgent?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Gordy said, shaking her head, then she directed her attention to the rest of the team. ‘Right then, everyone, who’s on with what today?’
Harry was unsurprised to see Police Constable Jadyn Okri’s hand shoot up into the air. He was the newest member of the team, having joined a few months after Harry. He seemed to approach each moment of his life with relentless enthusiasm and displayed an unquenchable thirst to prove himself on the job. It would’ve been annoying if it wasn’t so endearing.
‘Constable Okri,’ Harry said. ‘You have something to say?’
‘I’m heading up to Bishopdale,’ Jadyn said. ‘Following up on some weird reports we’ve had in about some apparent trespassing going on across someone’s land.’
‘Weird?’ Harry asked. ‘How’s that, then?’
Jadyn went to speak, but Liz said, ‘Let me guess; those weird reports are from a certain Mr Sewell and his wife, yes?’
‘You know them?’ Jadyn asked.
‘Heard of, rather than know,’ Liz replied, shaking her head. ‘When did these reports come in?’
‘Earlier this week,’ Jadyn said. ‘Why?’
‘And what did the reports say, exactly?’ Liz asked.
Jadyn shrugged. ‘Not much,’ he said. ‘Just that they’ve seen trespassers on their land. Oh, and that they’ve caught evidence of it on some cameras or something.’
‘So, how’s that weird, then?’ Harry asked, and noticed Jadyn’s eyes flicker over towards Liz.
‘Out with it, then!’ Harry commanded.
‘I…’ Jadyn began.
‘They’re new to the area,’ Liz said, as Jayden’s voice faded to nothing. ‘Not sure where they’re from, exactly, but they’ve bought a nice property with some land over in Bishopdale. A rambling place, needs a bit of work…’
‘You’re not exactly getting to the point, are you?’ Harry sighed.
‘Deer,’ Liz said.
‘Dear what?’ said Harry.
‘No, as in deer, the animal, you know, Bambi? That kind of deer. Not dear as in, oh dear, or deary me.’
‘Or, by ‘eck, that’s dear, lad,’ Matt added, his accent suddenly thick as molasses.
‘I know what a deer is!’ Harry said a little sharper than he’d meant to, but he was still tired from his early morning. ‘What I don’t know is what any of this has to do with PC Okri here heading out to talk to someone about trespassing and how any of that is somehow weird!’
‘Let’s just say they’re not used to the countryside,’ Liz said.
‘And what’s that got to do with Bambi?’ Harry asked.
‘They’re not happy that deer are able to walk freely across their land,’ Liz said. ‘Not just deer, either. There’ve been a few incidences of sheep doing what sheep do and getting through a bit of a break in a wall here and there, or a fence. They weren’t happy about that at all. Went around to see the farmer and told him they were going to get him arrested.’
Harry had no idea what to say to any of what he was hearing.
‘So, if I’m hearing this right, they’ve moved to the countryside, but they don’t actually like the countryside.’
‘Oh, they like it,’ Liz said, ‘but only if it’s contained and controlled and doesn’t make a mess of their lawn.’
Harry laughed.
‘Good luck with that, then,’ he said, nodding over to Jadyn.
‘There’s also a public right of way that runs right through their land,’ Jadyn said. ‘And if you think they’re unhappy about deer and sheep, you should hear what they have to say about the general public!’
‘I don’t think I really need to,’ Harry began, but Jadyn wasn’t done.
‘They’ve fenced the path so that it goes around the field rather than across it. And that fence is at least six-foot high. They’re justifying it by saying they’re getting a specialist in to rewild the area.’
‘Rewild?’ Harry said, bemused. ‘But this is the Dales. It’s fairly wild all on its own, isn’t it?’
‘The parish council aren’t best pleased,’ Liz said. ‘Because you can’t just go moving a historic right of way. That’s not how things work.’
‘Well, looks like you’ve a fascinating day ahead of you then, doesn’t it, PC Okri?’
‘It does, that,’ Jadyn said, nodding with clear enthusiasm.
Harry moved on to the rest of the team, sweeping his eyes around them like searchlights.
‘What about the rest of you, then? Anything more pressing than trespassing to be dealing with?’
Jenny Blades, the other police constable on the team, said, ‘I’m over to Swaledale later. Been a theft over at Marrick Priory, the outdoor centre. A load of equipment has been stolen, including some mountain bikes.’
Harry thought back to when he’d visited the Priory himself a while ago as part of another case.
‘You’ll be seeing Adam Bright, the manager, then?’
‘I will,’ Jen said.
‘How’s he doing?’
It was a good few months back now, but Harry doubted it was long enough to have allowed Adam to even begin to deal with what had happened after his brother, Gary, had been arrested and charged with two murders. It was also a case in which Jen herself had ended up being caught up in a little too personally, to say the least. Harry, Matt, and Jim had got to her just in time, but only just.
‘Sounded fine on the phone,’ Jen said, ‘but that’s not saying much, is it?’
‘And what about yourself?’ Harry asked.
He’d been keeping an eye on Jen, and she’d been doing fine, all things considered. But still, it didn’t hurt to ask.
‘I’m grand,’ Jen said and sent a beaming smile back to Harry.
‘Well, just take it steady today,’ Harry said, unable to disguise the concern in his voice. Then he glanced over to PCSO Liz Coates and asked, ‘You able to head over with her?’
‘No problem,’ Liz said. ‘I was only on with a walk around today anyway. Had a few villages to visit, say hello to folks, that kind of thing. Be that
whole visible police presence, like.’
‘It’s not necessary,’ Jen protested.
‘Necessary or not, it’s what’s happening,’ Harry said. ‘With Liz there, you’ll be better able to both check out the theft and check up on Adam. It’s not really our role, I know, but I can’t help but feel that in a community like this, it’s important we show that caring side, right?’
Matt coughed.
‘Something the matter?’ Harry asked.
‘No, nothing at all,’ Matt said. ‘Just wondering what you’ve done with the old Grimm, that’s all! Caring side? You know, you’ve changed, boss.’
‘And for the better, I’m sure,’ Gordy said, smiling over at Harry.
Harry hurried on.
‘Is that it, then?’
Jim mentioned then that he was going to pop in and visit Neil Hogg’s.
‘How are they doing?’ Harry asked.
‘That’s what I’m going to go and find out,’ Jim said. ‘And to see if I can find anything else out about Neil and what he was doing.’
Harry saw Jim’s eyes flicker up to Neil’s board on the wall.
‘Well, don’t get your hopes up,’ he said, concerned that Jim was still not dealing with what had happened, well, at all. ‘But if you do learn something of interest, call in immediately, okay? Now, anyone else? Nowt else pressing?’
Silence from the rest of the team, though in his head all Harry could hear was the echo of his own voice using the word nowt.
‘Good,’ Harry said at last and stood up, stretching as he did so to rid himself of the weariness that had set up shop in his muscles earlier that morning. ‘Then, I suppose I’ll be telling you what’s been going on up in Snaizeholme…’
Chapter Six
Harry faced his team, but behind his scarred face his mind played out the tragic and bloody scene from the barn earlier that morning. He couldn’t help but drop his eyes to Fly, who was now sitting at his owner’s feet, curled up and asleep. The thought that someone could get a kick out of watching a creature like that be ripped apart by another, and put money on the outcome, churned Harry’s gut into a violent storm.
‘Early this morning,’ Harry said, working hard to make sure his voice was as calm as it could be, ‘I was woken up by a call from Dave Calvert.’
Blood Sport: A Yorkshire Murder Mystery (DCI Harry Grimm Crime Thrillers 7) Page 4
