Harte

by Robert Innes

  Blake glanced around at all the eyes on him. He was struggling to think of a time when he had felt more sensitive about anything.

  “No, Sir.”

  “Excellent. Now then, Sergeant Gardiner. Would you gather the officers please? I think we need to have a meeting regarding the case. Someone out there attacked our Mr Pattison last night and we need to bring them to justice. See you in two weeks, DS Harte. Enjoy it.”

  With his head in the air, Angel glided away, down the corridor, with Gardiner in quick pursuit.

  “See you tonight, Sir,” Mattison murmured, looking awkwardly at Fox who merely smiled at Blake and followed the rest of the officers in the direction of the meeting room, leaving Blake and Harrison standing alone in the corridor.

  “Well,” Harrison said, linking arms with him, “what do we do now?”

  Blake could not shake off the feeling that he had just been unceremoniously pushed aside.

  “We go home, I guess.”

  Two

  Harrison was fully aware of the silence as he and Blake walked slowly back to Juniper Cottage. He could tell Blake was deep in thought. His brow was furrowed, his gaze was distant and he was walking with a kind of slow deliberation that Harrison had seen many times when he was heavily into a case that suggested that he was trying to put together a jigsaw that had too many pieces missing to formulate a picture.

  “Go on then,” Harrison said, putting his hands into his pockets as Blake’s stride got slower. “I can tell you’re dying to get something off your chest.”

  “Hm?”

  “What did Inspector Angel say to you? Why aren’t you allowed on the case?”

  Blake pulled his ecig out of his pocket and gave it a sharp suck.

  “Because I’m too closely involved apparently,” he replied.

  “Closely involved? I don’t see how. I mean, yeah, the two of you didn’t get on, but that doesn’t make you involved with him, does it?”

  “No,” Blake murmured. “I don’t think it does.”

  “I guess the law is the law,” Harrison mused, before catching his boyfriend’s expression and frowning. “Unless you feel like there’s something else to it?”

  Blake did not reply. He just sucked on his ecig again and shrugged.

  Harrison rolled his eyes. “And what does that mean?”

  Blake sighed as they rounded the corner to their street.

  “It means that I’m not being told something. I don’t want to sound like I’m blowing my own trumpet here, but I’m pretty confident I could wrap up whoever attacked Tom by the time I’m supposed to get on that train to Manchester tomorrow. I mean, come on. A village this size? There’s only so many people it could have been. It wouldn’t be hard to find someone with a grudge against him.”

  “Blake, no offence,” Harrison said delicately, “but nobody else I knew dislikes him as much as you. I mean, he actively tried to take your boyfriend off you, he’d wind you up, he tried to make the last case you were working on difficult by calling the media and getting them involved. Is it any wonder that Angel doesn’t want you on the case?”

  Blake shook his head as he pulled the keys to the cottage out of his coat pocket.

  “There’s something else. I mean, they worked out pretty quickly that it wasn’t either of us, two people who, in theory, wouldn’t think twice about clobbering the little git around the head. It can’t just be us who didn’t like him. The way he went around causing trouble for us, means that there’s somebody else in this village who he annoyed as well, and they took the time to try and teach him a lesson. Since I’ve lived in this village I’ve managed to work out how somebody can be shot in a locked shed, how a car manages to vanish in a tunnel with two drug dealers inside it, decipher how it’s possible to drown somebody in a lift and I’ve just finished wrapping up a case where somebody vanished from a suspended cabinet in front of an audience and taken down a sex ring in the process. I’m good at my job. So, why wouldn’t they want me working out who wanted to attack him of all people? What’s so special about Tom bloody Pattison?”

  Then, there was the sound of somebody clearing their throat behind them. As they turned around, Harrison’s heart sank to see Jacqueline standing at the bottom of their garden path. From the expression on her face, she had heard everything Blake had just said.

  “Jacqueline…” Blake began, clearly thinking frantically about how to save the situation.

  “I was just picking up some things for Tom,” Jacqueline interrupted sharply, holding up a bag. “Contrary to your thoughts, Blake, someone does care for him.”

  “How is he?” Harrison asked as Blake stared at the ground, ashamed.

  “No change,” Jacqueline replied, her voice wavering. “The nurse said he was lucky to be found when he was though, so that’s something.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be okay, Jacqueline,” Blake said. “He’s your son after all. No way you’d produce anything but a fighter.”

  Harrison raised an eyebrow at Blake’s words, but it appeared to do the job of thawing Jacqueline slightly.

  “Thank you,” she said. She looked down at the bag. “I’ve just got him a change of clothes, a few magazines. I mean he’ll want something to do when he comes ‘round. He’d rather been seen dead than be seen in one of those gowns they put you in in hospital.”

  Her choice of words appeared to hit her and her lip began to wobble.

  Harrison felt an enormous pang of sympathy for her and rushed forwards.

  “Jacqueline, he’ll pull through, I promise,” he said placing his arm around her.

  A few tears began to fall from Jacqueline’s eyes. “What if he doesn’t though?”

  “He will,” Harrison said firmly. “Look, do you want me to come with you?”

  “You don’t have to do that, darling.”

  “I know I don’t. I want to.”

  Jacqueline stifled a sob and smiled, before eventually nodding.

  “I’d like that, darling, thank you.”

  Blake put his hands in his pockets.

  “Do you want me to come?” he said.

  Harrison shook his head. As good as he knew Blake’s intentions were, the last thing Jacqueline needed was him saying something careless again.

  “You just get yourself packed ready for Manchester. Enjoy your extra day off.”

  “We’ll be fine, darling,” Jacqueline said to Blake.

  Blake sighed and then nodded.

  “Alright. Well, take care, Jacqueline, if I don’t see you before I go. Make sure you keep Harrison updated. I know me and Tom didn’t exactly see eye to eye sometimes, but I honestly don’t wish him any harm. I’m sure he’ll be absolutely fine.”

  “Thank you,” Jacqueline said quietly. “And you just take care of yourself in Manchester.”

  Blake raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  “I know the place like the back of my hand, Jacqueline. It’s where I grew up.”

  Jacqueline nodded. “I know. Just…” she paused and then shrugged. “Just mind how you go. These big cities. I’d hate to think of anything happening to you as well. Shall we go, Harrison?”

  “Yeah,” Harrison replied. “Come on. There should be a bus in the next five minutes. See you later, Blake.”

  “Yeah,” Blake said quietly.

  Harrison led Jacqueline down the street and towards the nearest bus stop. When he turned his head to glance back at Blake, he frowned. Blake was watching them both as they went, looking deeper in thought than ever.

  Tom had been placed in a private room on the third floor of Clackton General. As Harrison and Jacqueline entered the room, Harrison felt startled by the wires and tubes coming from Tom’s mouth and nose, who was lying in the bed with his eyes closed. The steady beating of the heart monitor beeped as his chest rose slowly up and down.

  Jacqueline gripped the bag she was carrying against her chest and stared at her son, the tears in her eyes shining in the reflection of the lights. “Still no change then,” she
murmered. “I had some vague hope he might have at least opened his eyes or something…”

  She stifled a sob as she placed the bag down gently beside the bed, before sitting down in a chair next to him.

  Harrison shook his head and sighed. “Who did this to him? I can’t believe we didn’t hear anything, I mean it happened right outside our cottages.”

  Jacqueline wiped her eyes with a decrepit looking tissue.

  “Has Blake said anything? Have the police got any idea?”

  “Nope. Even if they had, Blake wouldn’t know. He’s been taken off the case.”

  Jacqueline stared at Harrison in surprise. “Taken off the case? Blake? Why? He’s their top officer.”

  “I know,” Harrison replied with a slight smile. “So does Blake. Apparently because he and Tom didn’t exactly see eye to eye, it isn’t appropriate for him to be in charge of the case or something. That and the fact he goes away on holiday tomorrow for two weeks so there’s not a lot of point in him starting something he can’t finish. Personally, I reckon it’s more that but you know Blake.”

  Jacqueline nodded.

  “So, that’s what he was talking about earlier.”

  She blew her nose with the tissue and dropped it into the bin by the bed before grasping her son’s hand tightly.

  “I know my Tom can be a bit…well, you know. He’s got a sharp tongue on him. He gets that from me. But he doesn’t mean any harm by it, I know he doesn’t!”

  “I know,” Harrison said, putting his hand on her shoulder. He was, however, unconvinced by Jacqueline’s words. He remembered all too well the way Tom had goaded him about how difficult he could make Blake’s life. He considered carefully how to word what he wanted to say.

  “Do you know why Tom had such an issue with Blake? He genuinely seemed to hate him.”

  Jacqueline shook her head sharply. “My Tom isn’t capable of hate. You know what it is, darling. He had a bit of a thing for you, and Blake was the one standing in his way. It’s a Pattison trait, I’m afraid. I’m just the same. We get jealous, sometimes. I’ve obviously learnt to control my urges, but Tom is young, impetuous. And anyway, I’m sure he was over the whole you and him thing. Remember, I couldn’t get him off his phone! He was clearly seeing somebody!”

  Harrison did remember. The past few weeks had seen Tom seemingly glued to his mobile, constantly messaging somebody in secret. The only clue Harrison had to the mysterious person’s identity was when he had caught a glimpse of someone called ‘F’ on Tom’s phone screen, though the phone had been quickly hidden from sight as soon as Tom had realised that Harrison had seen it, with a refusal to answer any questions about it.

  “That’s true,” Harrison said thoughtfully. “Do you know who ‘F’ might be?”

  There was a brief pause, before Jacqueline turned to him.

  “‘F’?”

  “I think that might be the mystery man. Tom was really cagey about it. Whoever ‘F’ might be could be able to shed some light on what’s happened to him.”

  Jacqueline shuffled in her seat.

  “I don’t know. It’s probably a boy he meant on one of those dating sites.”

  Harrison nodded.

  “Probably,” he said. “Either way, I guess the police will know soon enough. They’ve got his phone.”

  Jacqueline seemed to stiffen slightly in her chair.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, it was next to him on the ground. Blake reckons that he was talking to someone when…”

  His voice trailed off as he nodded in the direction of the bed.

  Jacqueline cleared her throat and began busying herself with the contents of the bag.

  “Well, time will tell. Listen, thank you for coming, Harrison, darling. I’m going to be here for the rest of the day, and I’m sure you’ve got things to sort out with Blake if he’s going away tomorrow.”

  “He’s only packing,” Harrison replied. “I can stay if you want.”

  “No, no,” Jacqueline said, standing up. “You get off darling. There’s no point in us both sitting here doing nothing. I’ll ring you if there’s any change though, I promise.”

  Harrison raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  “Oh, okay. If you’re sure?”

  “Yes, yes, I’ll be fine, darling,” Jacqueline said quickly. She hurried over to the door and opened it, signalling that it was definitely time for him to leave.

  As soon as Harrison was out of the room, the door slammed shut behind him and a moment later, Harrison was sure that he could hear the sound of gentle sobs over the intermittent beeps of Tom’s heart monitor.

  Harrison returned home on the bus and walked into the cottage to find Blake perched on the end of the sofa attempting to wrap a new lamp he had bought for Sally’s birthday.

  Harrison watched him for a few moments, amused, as he struggled to keep the ends of the wrapping together whilst trying to pick off the end of the roll of Sellotape with his spare hand.

  “Do you want me to help you?” Harrison asked him.

  Blake turned his head and grinned.

  “No, I want you to stand there and watch me slowly pick my fingers to the bone trying to get this bloody thing wrapped.”

  Harrison chuckled and took the Sellotape from him while Blake held the ends of the wrapping paper together.

  “Why couldn’t she have asked for a bottle of perfume?” he fumed. “Instead she sends me a picture of the one lamp in the Clackton branch of her favourite homeware store that didn’t come in a bloody box.”

  Harrison finally managed to unpick the Sellotape and together they eventually got the awkwardly shaped lamp looking respectable enough to pass off as a birthday present.

  “This is why they invented gift bags,” Harrison said when they had finally finished.

  “Trust me, I tried,” Blake told him as he cleared up the remaining detritus from the coffee table. “There weren’t any big enough. How’s Tom?”

  Harrison shook his head. “Still no change.”

  “Poor Jacqueline,” Blake said with a sigh. “I hope he’s alright. I wouldn’t wish anything like that on her. Maybe, if he pulls through, he might come out the other side a slightly nicer person.”

  “I take it you’ve gone through it all with a fine tooth comb in your head,” Harrison said, moving the lamp out of harm’s way.

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  Blake rolled his eyes.

  “It’s not my job to work out who attacked him. I’m on holiday. Angel was perfectly clear about that.”

  Harrison grinned at him from across the living room.

  “Oh, so you haven’t given it a second’s thought?”

  Blake shrugged, reminding Harrison of a slightly petulant child. It always amazed him that despite the fact that Blake was one of the most mature, level headed people Harrison had ever met, he was capable of sulking better than anyone else he knew if he felt put out – not that Blake would ever admit it.

  Blake bit his lip.

  “Of course I’ve thought about it. I don’t get how it happened right outside our front door without us hearing anything. Whoever it was must have taken him completely by surprise.”

  Harrison nodded in agreement. “Must have done. I mean, if his mobile was there next to him on the ground, then perhaps he was talking to someone and then whoever it was attacked him from behind.”

  “But who?” Blake said, apparently abandoning all pretence that he was uninterested. “Who else had he annoyed to the point where they wanted to whack him over the head? I mean, surely we’re looking at attempted murder at the very least.”

  “There’s only one thought I had,” Harrison said thoughtfully. “You remember he was constantly on his phone, messaging someone, and Jacqueline said that she thought he’d met somebody on one of those dating sites?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I caught a glimpse of his screen and he hid it from me. Basically chucked me out of the house when I asked him about it when
he’d spent the previous five minutes gloating at me. It just said ‘F.’ Jacqueline said she doesn’t have a clue who it might be.”

  “‘F’?” Blake repeated with a frown. “Why would he put somebody in his phone just under a single letter?”

  “Unless he wanted to keep whoever it was a secret,” Harrison suggested.

  “Well, we’ve got his phone, so I guess it’ll only be a matter of time before we find out,” Blake said, before sighing and shaking his head. “I never understood why he seemed so obsessed with me. It’s like he went out of his way to cause trouble for us. I mean, it was nothing that bad. He always was just under the radar enough for it not to look weird to anybody else. But a guy who looks like that, muscles, six pack, ridiculously good looking, he could probably have anybody he set his mind to. Why was he so obsessed with making our relationship difficult?”

  Harrison shrugged.

  “I dunno. I was saying when I was getting interviewed this morning, I spoke to him last night. I told him to leave you alone and he just smirked at me. I really think whoever ‘F’ is, they’ve got something to do with his attack. They must have.”

  “Why me?” Blake murmered, before shaking his head again. “Let’s hope Gardiner has his wits about him. I dunno why, but I get the feeling there’s more to this than meets the eye. Nothing to base it off, obviously, but I dunno. It’s just a feeling.”

  He leant across to the coffee table and grabbed the TV remote control, flicking the television on. Harrison knew him well enough to spot when he was actually watching what was being shown, or merely staring at the screen while his brain worked on something entirely different. Considering the channel they were on was currently airing a rugby match, a sport Blake knew and cared very little about, it was a fair assumption that he was ruminating on the very few facts available to him.

  Harrison left Blake to his thoughts and wandered into the kitchen to tackle the washing up from the night before. He was just squirting a healthy dollop of washing up liquid into the bowl when the door opened and Mattison walked in.

  “You’re home early,” Harrison noted. “Don’t tell me they’ve taken you off the case too.”