The Whitby Murders (A Yorkshire Murder Mystery)

by J. R. Ellis

  Steph looked up. ‘We found a necklace containing Whitby jet amongst Barnes’s things in the flat,’ she said.

  ‘Nothing unusual in that,’ said Granger. ‘Mr Barnes said his daughter often visited her uncle here.’

  ‘Did she?’ said Oldroyd thoughtfully. ‘I think we should pay him a visit. Does he actually have a record of criminal activity?’

  ‘Not as far as we know, sir,’ said Granger. ‘But as you know, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been up to no good.’

  Oldroyd and Steph walked down the length of Church Street to Withington’s Whitby Jeweller’s shop, which was housed in an old building near the steps up to the abbey. The rain had completely cleared and the sky was now bright. The sun glinted on the puddles in the street.

  The Goth Weekend was over, and though the streets were no longer full of people in elaborate costumes there were still a few goths around. Gothic was now part of Whitby’s identity throughout the year, and it tied in well with the Dracula tradition.

  On the way to Withington’s they passed a number of other jeweller’s shops, all of which were at least partly trading in the eponymous black gemstone for which the town was famous.

  ‘Do you know,’ observed Oldroyd, ‘Whitby jet is actually a form of coal? It’s made from wood that has been under extreme pressure. It’s been used in Britain to make ornaments since the Neolithic period.’

  ‘Really, sir?’ replied Steph with a very slight edge of sarcasm and a smile on her face. She had a deep admiration for her boss in many ways, even if his enthusiasm for all things Yorkshire at times descended a little into mansplaining. She had learned to subtly undermine this.

  Oldroyd looked at her and frowned. ‘Sorry, I’m at it again, aren’t I? Giving you an unwanted, probably boring lecture about something.’

  Steph laughed. She approved of the way a man of Oldroyd’s generation was prepared to learn and change. And that he was prepared to take it from a woman who was his subordinate in rank. ‘It’s never boring, sir, but it’s great that you’re more aware you’re doing it.’

  ‘Good! Who knows? Someday I might be certified as fully “woke”!’

  Steph laughed again just as they arrived at the shop. Their attention was immediately caught by the window display, which combined craftsmanship in silver and jet with a gothic emphasis on spiders of all sizes fashioned into earrings, brooches and ornaments. Some were on silver webs and all had heads and abdomens made of the black jet. The centre piece was a magnificent and terrifying creature of impressive size attached to a necklace. In addition to an enormous heart-shaped black abdomen and diamond-shaped head, sections of its wonderfully long, curved and delicate legs were also made of jet.

  Steph shuddered. ‘God, that’s creepy, sir. I wouldn’t fancy wearing any of that stuff. It might appeal to my sister, though. She went through a goth phase when she was a teenager, and she still sometimes dresses in black and even kept the light-purple hair. She used to hang around outside the Corn Exchange in Leeds on a Saturday afternoon. Drove my mum mad, said she looked like a witch.’

  ‘It has a terrible beauty about it, though, don’t you think?’ said Oldroyd, admiring the huge spider necklace. ‘I’ll bet that one costs a bob or two. Anyway, let’s go in – if we dare!’ He pretended to tremble as he opened the door.

  Inside they found the goth and black-jet theme elaborated in greater variety in the jewellery cabinets. There were black bats with silvery wings and skulls with jet eyeballs; a bracelet was laced with silver skulls and black jet roses. The first assistant they saw was wearing black jet spider earrings. The detectives showed their ID.

  ‘We’d like to speak to Mr Withington, please.’

  ‘I’ll get him for you.’

  Oldroyd looked around the shop. ‘Never has the goth who is serious about ornamentation been so well catered for,’ he observed with his usual wit.

  ‘At a cost, though, sir. Have you seen the price tags?’ replied Steph.

  The assistant returned. ‘He says to come into his office.’ Oldroyd and Steph followed her into a back room where a sharp-faced man with reddish hair and a moustache turned from his computer. Oldroyd thought he looked like the classic spiv as he introduced himself and Steph.

  ‘Ooh, well, I don’t often get a visit from the police,’ said Withington in a pretentious and false accent, which Oldroyd had heard before and always described as ‘posh Yorkshire’. The clumsy combination of Yorkshire and RP vowels grated on him. ‘But I suppose that’s a good thing. What can I do for you? Is it to do with Andrea’s murder? Absolutely shocking. My sister will be devastated. I’ve been trying to summon up the courage to call her; not an easy thing to do.’

  ‘No,’ replied Oldroyd, thinking that Withington didn’t seem very devastated himself. ‘We’ve spoken to your sister and her husband.’

  ‘How was she?’

  ‘As well as to be expected in the circumstances.’

  ‘Good. Well, her husband’s always hated me. I don’t know what he’s been saying but I can imagine the type of thing.’

  ‘We know about the dispute concerning your mother’s will, but I’m more interested in your relationship with Andrea. I understand you saw quite a bit of her?’

  Withington shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, I don’t know about that. She always came to see me when she was in town and we got on well. She didn’t share her father’s attitude towards me.’

  ‘And how often did she come to Whitby?’

  ‘Every few months; she liked it here, being by the sea.’

  ‘Did you know her partner, Dominic Holroyd?’

  ‘He’s the suspect, isn’t he?

  ‘He was, but he was found dead in the harbour on Sunday.’

  ‘Good God, I hadn’t heard that! I didn’t know him well. He came into the shop with her a few times. They were based in London, weren’t they? I know she had this flat in Leeds she inherited from her aunt – that’s her father’s sister – but I don’t think the boyfriend came up with her much.’

  ‘Apparently they rowed a lot. Did she ever talk about that?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did she talk about any enemies she had? Were you aware of anyone who’d wish her any harm?’

  ‘No. Andrea was a nice person. I can’t see who would want to attack her. I can’t imagine why her partner would do this.’

  Oldroyd took up a piece of jet jewellery from Withington’s desk: a small spider with a jet body in a delicate silver web.

  ‘She was fond of this Whitby jet jewellery, wasn’t she?’ Oldroyd looked at Withington directly when he said this and detected a slight flicker of alarm in his eyes.

  ‘Yes. She got a few pieces from me; one for a birthday present, I think, and the others at cost price. It’s a beautiful gemstone, jet, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes. I notice you’ve got plenty of the goth stuff in for the festival.’

  Withington was warming up as he moved onto a sales pitch. ‘Oh yes, Chief Inspector. You have to give the public what they want. But it’s not just for the festival. We sell that stuff all year round now, just as you’ll find the goth outfitters are open all the time. We’ve got a number of really talented jewellery workers making our stuff; it’s the best there is. Have a good look before you go.’ He looked at Steph. ‘I’m sure you’ll find something you like. There’s a long tradition of making it here in Whitby. It’s unique.’

  Steph gave him a rather icy smile. ‘I don’t think it’s my style actually.’

  ‘Well, we’ve got lots of other stuff in different styles, not just goth.’

  ‘I may come back when I’m off duty,’ said Steph, bringing an end to his patter.

  ‘I understand you used to have a shop in Leeds,’ asked Oldroyd, and his keen eyes searched Withington’s face from which the smile vanished.

  ‘Yes I did.’ Suddenly his speech became terse.

  ‘And what happened to it?’

  ‘I saw the opportunities of getting into the Whitby jet market ov
er here.’

  ‘Wasn’t that a bit of a come down? This is a little backwater in your line of business compared to Leeds I would have thought. I wonder if there were other reasons why you left.’

  For the first time since they’d started questioning him, Withington became angry and defensive. ‘This is Fred again, isn’t it? I wish he’d stop spreading rumours about me. I suppose he told you I was doing dodgy stuff.’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Well, it’s not true, Chief Inspector. My move here was entirely due to what I saw as a business opportunity.’

  Oldroyd gave him a long stare. ‘I see. Okay, well, that’s all for now. If you remember anything you think we ought to know please contact us.’ Oldroyd gave Withington a card and prepared to leave. But then he turned back. ‘Oh, by the way, when did Andrea last visit you here?’

  Withington hesitated. ‘She, she came in on Tuesday I think it was. Yes, Tuesday. It’s terrible to think I won’t see her in here again.’

  Oldroyd shook his head. ‘It must be. Thank you for your cooperation.’

  ‘Very interesting,’ remarked Oldroyd as he and Steph walked back down Church Street. ‘You noticed how he hesitated before answering that last question?’

  ‘Yes, sir, it seemed to unnerve him.’

  ‘It did. That’s an old trick of mine, you’ve seen it before: pretend you’ve finished the interview and they lower their guard. Then you suddenly give them the rapier thrust of another unexpected question and they stumble if they’ve got something to hide. He had to make a quick decision whether to tell me or not and probably decided we’d find out anyway.’

  ‘What is he trying to conceal do you think, sir?’

  ‘I think there was something going on with this jet jewellery and Andrea. You notice he said she came in on Tuesday, but that was the day before they all gathered here for their long weekend. So why did she come up here a day early? I can’t believe it was just to see her uncle.’

  ‘He’s also not being straight about his Leeds shop, is he, sir?’

  ‘No, and we must get that investigated.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve still no idea how all this might fit together, if it does.’

  They’d reached the harbour swing bridge, which had moved across to let a tall yacht through. Traffic stood by the flashing yellow lights high above the water while the tall masts and white sails moved slowly along in a ghostly manner as if by themselves and disconnected from the invisible yacht below as it made its way to the open sea. It gave Oldroyd an idea of what he and Deborah could do when she came over.

  Withington went to the door of his office and watched Oldroyd and Steph leave the shop with a look of relief mingled with anxiety. He shut the door, sat down at his desk again and picked up a brooch containing a particularly macabre spider design in black jet. He toyed with this, thought for a while and then reached for his phone and called a number. He sat back as he spoke and continued to fondle the spider brooch as if it had a calming effect on him.

  ‘I’ve just had the police here asking questions about Andrea . . . Yes, I’ve been expecting it, but let’s just stay calm . . . Yes . . . if they track you down then just tell them what we agreed . . . Look, they’ve got absolutely nothing on us so don’t worry . . . Yes, I’ve no doubt they’ll be looking into my past, but I’ll handle that . . . Yes, I’m sure. Okay . . . Bye.’

  He put his phone back into his pocket and placed the brooch back on his desk. His face was still grim. He didn’t like the look of that Chief Inspector; the man seemed far too sharp. He would make a formidable opponent.

  When Oldroyd and Steph arrived back at the flat, there were cases in the hallway. It seemed that everyone was ready to leave. Jack was loading his stuff into a nippy-looking sports car parked outside the apartment. When he saw Oldroyd and Steph, he stopped what he was doing and came over to them.

  ‘Hi. I’m off soon, and so’s everybody else . . . I think.’ He turned to Oldroyd and Steph. ‘I just wanted to say thank you to you both for coming over and, you know, helping with things. I know you’re involved because of Louise, but I’m sure you’ve been a great help to the police here.’

  Oldroyd nodded.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Steph.

  ‘It’s a pity,’ continued Jack, ‘that there wasn’t more for you to do. It’s pretty clear-cut really, isn’t it? Dom had some kind of blow up or breakdown or whatever you want to call it, lost it with Andrea and then killed himself.’

  Steph nodded.

  ‘It certainly looks that way,’ said Oldroyd.

  ‘I was lucky that I wasn’t here so I didn’t have to go through it all.’ He shook his head. ‘To think that I was annoyed that I couldn’t get here in time for the escape room. It’s going to take the others a long time to recover, especially Ben. He’s really not been himself since it happened, but neither have any of us really.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right. Anyway, we’ll just go in and see the others. Are you going straight back to London?’

  ‘Yes.’

  In the lounge, Louise was talking to Maggie and Mark. They all looked up at the detectives as they came in.

  ‘Hello, Mr Oldroyd,’ said Maggie. ‘Have a seat. Mark’s got something to tell you before we leave.’

  Mark looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m not sure how relevant this is, but Louise said you should know. The fact is, Dom cheated when he was a student. He plagiarised essays including some of mine. We were on the same course.’

  ‘I see,’ said Oldroyd as he sat down. ‘You’ve done the right thing. Any information in a case like this is useful and maybe more important than you think. Do you know of any other victims other than you?’

  ‘No, but I think there must have been some because he was suspended for a while and I think he was threatened with expulsion so he must have offended more than once. It’s such a big deal in the academic world, any kind of cheating like that.’

  ‘Yes, and it must have been a bad experience for you. The fact that he involved you in something like that must have made you angry,’ said Oldroyd, looking at Mark very directly.

  Mark could see where this was going. ‘Yes, but I had no desire to hurt him. I just let the authorities deal with it. He apologised in the end. It was quite a while ago now and we decided to forget about it when I met him again through Maggie.’

  ‘Okay. I will report this back to Inspector Granger who’s in charge of the investigation, but you’re still free to go.’

  At this, everyone stood up and made to leave. It was an emotional moment after all they’d been through. As they departed, singly and in pairs, Louise and Maggie hugged each other and shed some tears. Jack zoomed off in his sports car, and Mark and Maggie in Mark’s old Citroen. Ben was the last to leave. He was walking to the station and going on the train to visit his parents in Manchester.

  ‘Don’t stay around too long,’ he said to Louise. ‘We need to keep checking on each other.’

  Louise smiled at him. She liked the fact that he was so sensitive.

  As she gave Ben a hug, Oldroyd glanced at her, wondering what exactly her feelings for Ben were, but he didn’t say anything. He offered to give Ben a lift to the station but he refused, saying he wanted the exercise.

  ‘God, it feels really weird in here now everyone’s gone,’ said Louise as she, Steph and Oldroyd sat back in the lounge.

  ‘Why don’t you pack your stuff, love? It’s time we were getting back. Are you sure you want to stick around like this and stay with your mother in Leeds?’

  ‘Yes, Dad, at least for a while. I want to see this through. There’s more to find out yet, I’m convinced of it.’ She went off to her room.

  ‘I think she’s right,’ said Oldroyd as soon as she’d left. ‘But I don’t think we’re going to find the answer here. My plan is to pursue them all down to London and see what emerges from a thorough investigation into each one of them.’

  ‘You think one or more of them is involved, sir?’ replied Steph. ‘I must say, it seems un
likely to me. They all seem such nice young people.’

  Oldroyd smiled. ‘Yes, I know how you feel and Inspector Granger probably agrees with you, but there’s something too easy about it all to me. Now, when I said that we’ll pursue them, I actually meant that Andy will, though he doesn’t know it yet. I’m going to swap you and him to keep DCS Walker happy. I don’t think he’ll want to lend out two of his detective sergeants to a Whitby police investigation. This is where Andy’s London experience will come in handy. I’ll be coming back here to help Inspector Granger.’ He saw a brief look of disappointment on Steph’s face, but she was too professional to express it. He knew she enjoyed working with him.

  ‘Good plan, sir. I’m sure he’ll be keen to help.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve also got some jobs for you too: looking into that jeweller’s past and keeping an eye on Louise. She’s going to be in Leeds for a while so you could call in on your way home sometimes and see how she’s doing.’

  Steph smiled. That was much better.

  Jack smiled to himself as he sped round the Malton bypass on his way to York, before heading south on the A1. The car was handling very well. He loved it; it so fitted in with his image: the debonair man about town conducting a high-octane social life.

  It had been a difficult few days in Whitby, not at all what he was used to. But he had acquitted himself effectively and managed to conceal certain things which he wished to remain secret. Now that Dom’s body had been found he didn’t expect any more trouble from the police. Once he got back to London he would be able to resume his normal life.

  He was glad that he’d not been there to witness the murder; that would have been very traumatic. And then Dom’s suicide. To lose friends was always a bad thing, but, hey, let’s move on, he thought to himself. He was sure the group would carry on without Dom and Andrea. There were lots of things to look forward to. He pressed his foot down and the car surged forward. The further he travelled south and away from Whitby, the better he felt.

  Mark and Maggie were proceeding at a more sedate pace in the Citroen and had reached the market town of Pickering.