DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thrillers: Book 1-3

by Oliver Davies

Stephen sent me a warning look. “Of course she does. But she works full time too, it isn’t her job to look after the kids all the time.”

  I sighed. “Sure, sorry. I know that. I just wished we’d caught this guy- person.”

  Stephen patted my arm in a friendly way. “I know. We will.”

  I wasn’t convinced and heading back to the station with the dead birds in the back didn’t improve my mood. We dropped the poor things off at the lab, but Sam was busy and told me, a touch sharply, that there were cases that were a higher priority than mine right now.

  Heading back upstairs, I nicked Stephen’s soup-bowl sized cup and made myself a coffee strong enough to give a non-coffee drinker heart palpitations. Stephen gave me a look when he saw I’d stolen his cup, before he stole my mug right back, because it was the next biggest one in the cupboard. But he filled his with tea, of course.

  “What now then?”

  “We tell Gaskell we’ve found squat and probably get reassigned,” I started to say, before breaking off. At that moment, Gaskell had walked out of his office with a tense frown on his face, that I recognised all too well as what he looked like when he was dealing with something serious. A man I didn’t recognise was walking alongside him, a fair bit shorter than Gaskell but with determination in his gait.

  “Who’s that with Gaskell?” I asked Stephen curiously.

  Stephen looked over. “The other DCI, George Sedgwick,” he said. “He’s alright, bit grouchy sometimes. Don’t reckon he’ll like you too much.”

  I turned to him. “Why? What’ve I done now?”

  Stephen smiled slightly. “Nowt, you’re an angel, of course.” He shook his head. “No, you’re just a lot younger than he was when he got promoted to DCI, he’ll probably, er, not think too highly of you.”

  I raised my eyebrows at my partner, who looked a little sheepish. “I see,” I said.

  “I got over it,” Stephen said. “I’m sure he will too.”

  I hummed, my attention back on Gaskell and Sedgwick, who were talking to one of the constables.

  “I feel like something’s happened,” I said. A tension and urgency surrounded the pair, and I was itching to know why.

  I stood up, glancing back at Stephen who gave me a nod, and headed over with him following.

  The constable headed off after Gaskell and Sedgwick had given out whatever orders they needed to, and I stepped forwards before the pair could head off.

  “What’s going on, sir?” I asked Gaskell. Sedgwick looked at me a little coldly, but I ignored him.

  “Murder,” Gaskell said distractedly. He started walking off towards the corridor, and I walked with him.

  “Who?”

  Gaskell focused on me and sighed, looking tired. “University student, during Freshers’ week.”

  I stared at him, before my brow furrowed in thought. These birds at the uni, and now this… my face blanched as I thought of Abby and rushed to ask, “What student?”

  Gaskell gave me an odd look. “A first year,” he said, and I relaxed a little. “She was studying French, I think. Sedgwick is heading over now.”

  “Can Steph- Huxley and I come?”

  Gaskell pressed his lips together, looking not too pleased by my desire to be involved, but he gave me a sharp nod before walking off with Sedgwick, who I presumed had been put in charge of this case.

  “God, for a second, I thought Abby-” Stephen started, and I nodded.

  “I know.”

  We were both quiet for a second, thinking about the two cases. I shook my head and headed back to my desk to grab my coat.

  “We better head on down,” I said, “before Sedgwick leaves without us.”

  Stephen agreed, and we hurried downstairs. Sedgwick was getting into a patrol car that his partner had brought round from the car park, and Stephen and I got into our own car to follow after them quickly.

  They led the way through the streets of York, which were busy with late morning traffic. It was a lightly overcast day, the sky a high, white ceiling over the city, holding no threat of rain. Mild and gentle weather, considering we were on the threshold of October. I was just fine with running in harsher conditions, but the York pavements did get slippery in the wet, especially as the rain started to come down, so I hoped the current weather would hold out until the end of the day. Plus, the few fields in the concrete-locked city got about as boggy as a marsh after a heavy rain shower, and it was nice to run on grass sometimes, even if it did leave my feet sodden in my trainers.

  “You’re quiet,” Stephen noted.

  I sent him a tired smile. “I’m daydreaming about going for a run.”

  Stephen groaned dramatically. “Don’t tell me, Christ’s sake, you weirdo.”

  I snorted. “Thanks a bunch. It’s frustrating, all of this, isn’t it? Makes me want to run somewhere, because this case is like being stuck on a treadmill.”

  “Guess you’re not a fan of the gym then?”

  I was not, but I ignored Stephen’s light jibe and continued, sobering, “And now there’s a student murder? I’m not even formally included in the case, so it’s not like I’m going to be able to help with that, either.”

  Stephen was silent for a minute. “You’re used to being able to be involved in everything, huh?”

  I nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, guess so. A small town like Lockdale and you tend to get involved in even the smallest of cases, because there’s not enough staff.”

  Stephen looked understanding. “Not like that here, mate. You’ve gotta trust the other officers to handle their cases, like they trust you to handle yours.”

  “Not sure the other DCI trusts me even a smidge.”

  Stephen rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re new. It’ll come.”

  “You’re right,” I admitted, before holding a finger up. “Don’t rub it in.”

  He chuckled. “Alright, alright.”

  Sedgwick’s car led the way to a car park, blocked off with police tape, around the back of a club. I parked up nearby, and Stephen and I walked over, showing our badges to the constable posted outside the taped-off perimeter before he waved us through.

  The student’s body wasn’t inside the club like I might’ve expected but round the side, near the industrial bins. The woman looked young, wearing a going-out dress and heels. She’d just been living her life, and then it’d been cut short far too suddenly. She seemed to be lying in an odd position, resting on her side with her legs half bent at each knee, one in front of the other. Her arms were bent at the elbow.

  “Christ,” Stephen muttered beside me, and I nodded silently.

  I got myself together and walked nearer, to where Sedgwick and his partner, a tall woman with black hair, were talking to one of the forensics team who were already on site. Sedgwick looked over and met my eyes briefly, once I got close enough to hear what they were saying, but he quickly turned back to the forensics woman, focused on what she was saying.

  “-needs further investigation in the lab, but I’d say it’s likely that she died here.”

  “And why’s that?” Sedgwick asked.

  “The livor mortis will confirm it or not, but the way the body’s been… positioned, that would have had to happen fairly soon after death, before rigor mortis set in.”

  “Wait, positioned?” I asked, catching on the way the forensics woman had put emphasis on the word. “Positioned how?”

  Sedgwick shot me an unimpressed look. “The body hardly looks natural, does it?”

  I kept a neutral expression. “No, I realise that.” I turned to the red-haired forensics lady. “You’re sure it’s arranged, and she didn’t just fall strangely?”

  She nodded. “I’m fairly certain, but as I said, further investigation will confirm the theory or not.”

  “When did it happen?” Sedgwick’s partner asked.

  She shrugged elegantly. “I can’t give you a definitive answer yet, you know that, but a rough guess would be the early hours of last night.”

  I
wandered away, leaving Stephen to listen in, and went back over the body. Someone in a white suit and booties warned me not to get too close and so I observed the student’s body from a distance. The birds had been arranged too, I couldn’t help but think. Arranged to look like they were in flight. And this woman looked almost like that too, except she was running rather than flying. Perhaps it was an eerie coincidence, but my gut told me it wasn’t, somehow. These incidents happened so close together, both involving university students, and now there was this similarity in how they were laid out. I wondered if the killer had strangled her, too, because if the killing method was the same, it would solidly suggest a connection.

  “Mitchell!” Stephen called me, and I headed back over to him. Sedgwick was walking away, and I followed after him with Stephen. “There're cameras round the back that they’re checking out.”

  “The back, not the side?” I asked.

  Stephen nodded. “Yeah, they don’t cover the side alley where she was left, but Sedgwick and Greene, his partner,” he clarified, “think they might’ve caught something of whoever did this.”

  “That’d be helpful,” I agreed. “Has the student been identified yet?”

  Stephen shook his head. “No, but they’re working on it back at Hewford. Getting in contact with the university, I suppose.”

  “And then her parents, once they know who she was.” I said, my chest feeling tight at the thought. Stephen just nodded.

  “Do we know how she was killed?”

  “No, they’ll need a post-mortem for that, no doubt.”

  “Neat,” I muttered.

  Stephen turned to give me a look. “What?” he said.

  I blinked. “It’s tidy, isn’t it, like the birds? It wasn’t clear how they died either, because whoever did it wanted it neat.”

  Stephen’s eyebrows lifted, and I could almost see him thinking. “You think they’re connected?”

  Sedgwick and his partner, Greene, had headed into the club with a balding man I assumed was the club owner. He led the way across the slightly dingy-looking open dance floor, which felt sticky under my boots and smelled pervasively of sweat. Around the back, a man in jeans and a t-shirt was sitting in front of a number of screens.

  “This is Tom, he’s security,” the club owner said, leaning on the back of Tom’s chair. “I got him to come over right after I told you guys about the-” He grimaced, and gestured vaguely towards outside, “body. I thought you’d be wanting to see the CCTV footage, and I know jack-squat about all the tech stuff.”

  “Have you found anything?” Sedgwick asked Tom directly.

  The man nodded silently and pressed play on the screen, turning it towards Sedgwick. Stephen and I stayed close behind, looking around Sedgwick to be able to see the screen.

  It was in black and white and fairly grainy, and it showed the alleyway behind the club. Two pairs of couples stumbled across the screen, looking plastered, before a hooded figure appeared and all of us straightened, the tension in the small security room palpable.

  I couldn’t tell if the figure was a man or woman, but I would’ve guessed a man. They were bulky, and even from the grainy video alone, I could tell that they were very tall. Their hood covered their head entirely, which they kept down, like they knew the camera was there. They walked across the alleyway, looking up and down several times before they walked back again, off-camera.

  “Is that it?” Sedgwick asked, leaning back with a frown on his face.

  Tom, the security guy, put up a hand. It took a minute or so before the figure returned, and my stomach tightened when I saw that they were carrying something over their shoulder, wrapped in black plastic. It was about the size of a large carpet, but I knew that no-one in the room thought it was anything but the unfortunate woman outside. But the figure just walked straight across the screen, not raising their face once, heading towards the little side alley where the body now lay. The time at the bottom of the screen showed that it’d happened around six o’clock in the morning, late enough that even the most determined clubbers had staggered either home or to McDonald’s, but early enough that the club’s cleaners or other staff wouldn’t be in yet. It all seemed planned to me.

  At least we knew, now, that the student definitely hadn’t been killed outside the club but placed there. Why, I wasn’t sure.

  “She’d been wearing club clothes, though,” I said, thinking aloud. Several heads turned towards me, including Sedgwick’s. “She was moved to outside this club,” I explained, “but she’d gone out tonight, it looks like. She wasn’t taken from her room.”

  “Unless the killer dressed her,” Sedgwick pointed out.

  I nodded in acknowledgement, but the club owner was shaking his head. “No, she’d been here earlier in the night. I had Tom look for her after he found the outside footage.”

  I raised my eyebrows, impressed by these two’s thoroughness, and Sedgwick looked similarly gratified to have the information.

  “Can we see that? Does it have a timestamp?” he asked.

  Tom nodded, seeming to be a man of few words. He brought up another tab on the computer and pressed play on the second clip of security footage, which was from a camera positioned at the front of the club and recorded those queueing outside the front doors to get their IDs checked. A few seconds in, there was the student, wearing the same outfit. She was with her friends and laughing, staggering a little like she’d already gotten tipsy at the pre-drinks. The time on that footage was around eleven, fairly soon after the club had opened.

  “So she was targeted from the club,” Sedgwick said. “But she wasn’t killed here. Have you got footage of her leaving?”

  The club owner looked at Tom, who shook his head. “Haven’t found her yet,” he said.

  “Alright, if you can keep looking, that’d be very helpful, and we’ll need the other footage too, please. Unedited.” He gestured to his partner. “DI Greene will tell you where to send it,” he added, before he headed back outside.

  “You think they’ll shut the uni?” Stephen asked quietly, as we left the security guy to his work looking through the long night of footage.

  I pulled a face. “I doubt it. It didn’t happen on university grounds.”

  We left Sedgwick talking to the forensics team outside, who were zipping up the body, and headed back to our car.

  “Do we talk to Gaskell about the cases possibly being connected?” Stephen said, as we got in the car. Stephen took the driver’s seat this time, and I made sure my belt was locked in.

  I hummed. “I don’t know. We could wait until the post-mortem examination is back in, to see how the woman was killed. If it’s strangling, I’d say that the connection is strong. Otherwise, it could be dismissed as similarities.”

  Stephen reversed us out the car park and back onto the road. It was getting near lunchtime, and despite what we’d just seen, my stomach was grumbling about me missing breakfast.

  “True. I just think…” Stephen trailed off, looking uncertain, which was a look that didn’t sit well on his face.

  “Go on,” I said, though I thought I could guess what he might say.

  He glanced at me. “I’m just concerned that if they are connected then, this person, this killer, they’re escalating, you know? And fast. Going from killing birds to students? I know the evidence is shaky right now, but I feel we should give Gaskell a heads up.”

  He was right. “Yeah, I agree. He might not believe us, but it’s worth a try. And then we’ll have to wait for the post-mortem results.”

  Stephen nodded. We stopped off at Greggs on the high street for a couple of sausage rolls and sandwiches. I munched on the pastry, getting it all over my trousers, as we drove back to the station and climbed out of the car. The sky had greyed over whilst we’d been at the club crime scene, and I frowned up at it.

  “Thinking of that run again?” Stephen asked.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I said, flicking through my phone to find the weather
app. Which said that it would rain around five. Dammit.

  “It’s not a bad thing,” Stephen said, entirely unconvincingly.

  I turned to him as we walked up the station stairs towards our floor. “What about when you did rugby, huh?” I said. “You must’ve done plenty of running then, and extra fitness off the field too, right?”

  “Sure did,” he agreed easily. “Hated every minute. Only put up with it because I liked the game so much.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I give up.”

  Gaskell’s office door was open as we walked past and I slowed my walk without quite meaning to. I could only hear Gaskell’s side of the conversation, but it sounded like he was talking to the university. Gaskell saw me hovering there, and I quickly started up walking back to my desk. Gaskell sent me a pointed look as he got up to close his door.

  “What was he saying?” Stephen asked.

  I took a final bite of my cooling sausage roll before squashing the paper into a ball. “Not quite sure. Talking to the uni, I think.”

  Stephen nodded. “Even if they don’t close down, they’d be wise to put in some extra security measures.”

  “Agreed.” I aimed and threw the balled-up paper bag over towards the bin in the corner of the room, and fist-pumped the air when it actually went in. “Did you see?” I demanded, turning to Stephen, fully aware I was acting like a fifteen-year-old schoolboy. He looked grudgingly impressed.

  “You should’ve done basketball, not running.”

  I scoffed, about to retort when Gaskell opened his office door again and gestured at Stephen and me to come over.

  I cursed quietly. “Am I gonna get told off now?” I said under my breath as I got up, and Stephen followed.

  “Fifty-fifty chance, I’d say.”

  “Thanks, Huxley.”

  We walked over to Gaskell’s office, where he was waiting with the door open, and shut it behind us. He raised his eyebrows at me as he sat down behind his desk, and we sat opposite.

  “Well?” he said. I looked back at him, at a loss. He waved a hand impatiently. “Have you figured out who left the birds outside the student’s door?”

  I grimaced. “Not quite, sir. There was a second incident that was the work of a copycat, and he’s being processed, but we haven’t managed to catch the first yet.” Gaskell looked displeased, and I hardly thought it was the best time to explain Stephen and I’s theory, but we needed to anyway.