I looked both ways down the street, but, predictably, there was no one in sight. This had been done in the night, whilst Taylor and I were asleep upstairs. It made me feel deeply uncomfortable, and I fully understood why Taylor had needed to move somewhere else for a while and hadn’t wanted to be alone last night.
I closed the door, took a breath, and got myself into police mode, despite my headache. Taylor was standing at the other end of the hall. She was still in pyjamas but had one of her cardigans wrapped around her again, an oversized purple one this time.
“How’re you feeling?” I asked her, wincing a bit because obviously, she wasn’t doing her best after that awful surprise.
She shrugged. “I’m not hungover, at least.”
“Glad one of us isn’t,” I said, smiling weakly. “Did the cat tell you they were there, again?”
She nodded. “Yeah, Wanda didn’t come for her food.”
I hummed, moving to dig my phone from my jeans, which were on the sofa where I’d changed last night. I found Stephen in the contacts and sat down on Taylor’s soft couch to call him.
“Darren?” Stephen said, sounding slightly worried. “Everything alright?” I could hear some sort of commotion in the background, kids talking I realised after a second.
“Taylor’s had another- There have been more birds left at Taylor’s,” I said clumsily, my brain still not quite functioning at full capacity. I hadn’t had any coffee yet, for starters.
“You there now?”
“Yeah. I’ll have to go to the station-”
“No, Darren, it’s alright,” Stephen said, his tone steady. “I’ll get the car and some evidence bags. You stay with Taylor. I’ll be over there in half an hour or so, okay?”
I released a breath. “Thanks, mate. Really appreciate it.” I hesitated. “What about your kids?”
“Annie’s here,” he said. “They’re good, don’t worry.”
He promised to come over as soon as possible, and we hung up. I released a sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, before I perked up.
“Coffee?” I said hopefully, smelling the stuff and feeling better almost instantly. It probably wasn’t healthy how much I loved it, but that was a problem for tomorrow's me.
“Coffee and painkillers,” Taylor agreed, giving me a cup of strong, black coffee and a couple of white pills, which I swallowed down.
“You read my mind,” I told her.
“Your partner’s coming round?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Better put some trousers on then,” she teased.
“You don’t think he’d appreciate the view?” I grinned, jutting my hip out in a silly pose. It was good to see Taylor smiling again, and hearing her laugh was even better.
“I certainly do,” she said, still giggling.
I smiled back at her. “That’s a relief.”
I took another drink of coffee, and we shared a moment of eye contact that left me feeling distinctly warm, before she glanced past me towards the door and the spark left her expression.
“It’ll be okay,” I said, not entirely convincingly. “I’ll go get dressed, alright?”
“Sure.” She managed a smile. “I’ll make some breakfast. Not good to have painkillers on an empty stomach.” She went back to the kitchen, and whilst I was more than happy to cook, it touched me that she cared.
I snagged my jeans and jogged up the stairs to change and make myself presentable. I pulled Taylor’s brother’s shirt on, since the one from last night hadn’t been hung up and was still damp from the rain that’d come down.
The kitchen smelled delicious when I returned, and I gathered Taylor into a hug where she was standing at the counter, serving up plates of eggs, bacon and beans.
“I hope you’re not veggie?” she asked, a little late, as she handed me a plate.
“Nope.”
We ate in quiet, Taylor flicking through her phone in between petting her cat, Wanda. I finished first and picked Wanda up when she kept rubbing at my legs, settling her in my lap. Taylor sent me a smile as she used her toast to mop up bacon grease. I was glad to see that she still had an appetite and wasn’t feeling sick from last night, or that this morning hadn’t put her off her food.
The doorbell rang a couple of minutes later, as I was taking the plates to the sink to wash up and Taylor went to get it, because my hands were wet. I heard Stephen’s distinctive, deep voice and his heavy footsteps as Taylor let him inside. Presumably, he’d had to step over the birds on the porch, and I pulled a face as I scrubbed our breakfast plates.
I could already predict Stephen’s expression when he spotted me, dressed in casual clothes and washing up in Taylor’s sink, and I wasn’t disappointed when I turned around. He was split between surprise and glee at the teasing he was going to give me, I could tell, but he stopped himself for the moment.
“You noticed the birds just before calling me?” he asked. Taylor and I both nodded. “I’ll photograph them and scoop them up. Darren, how about you finish that,” He waved a hand at what I was doing and smiled slightly, “and then go and talk to the neighbours?”
“Sure, boss.” I propped the last mug onto the draining board and went to dry my hands off. Stephen rolled his eyes at me.
“Good,” he said, and went back to the doorstep.
I glanced back at Taylor, who looked divided between worry over the birds and amusement about Stephen and me. “He’s angling for my job, I swear, bossing me about.”
She smiled, looking a little tired. She’d taken her make-up off last night and looked fresh-faced and soft this morning.
“How dare he?” she agreed, amused.
I had to go past her to grab my coat and couldn’t resist dipping down for a kiss as I got close to her. She inhaled quietly in surprise, before relaxing against me and what I’d intended to be a quick peck turned into a couple of minutes of kissing.
“Mitchell?” said a stern voice from the door and I pulled away, thinking for a moment that that was Gaskell’s voice- but no, it was just Stephen being an idiot. He grinned at my look of annoyance and clapped his hands. “Chop chop, work to do.”
I sent an apologetic look to Taylor, who looked more amused than anything, and stepped away to grab my jacket and tug it on.
“Let me know before you head off?” she asked.
“Of course,” I assured her. “We’ll be in the street, okay?”
Stephen was picking up the last of the small birds when I left the house. He’d gotten them neatly bagged up and sent me a serious look when I paused beside him.
“Definitely the same?” I said quietly.
“I think so.”
I made a noise of frustration. “We haven’t gotten any further into figuring who’s doing this. God, it drives me mad.”
“I know,” Stephen sighed. “Go talk to the neighbours, Mitchell.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
It was instinct these days to move my police badge from my uniform to the pocket of my casual clothes every time I changed, just like I moved my wallet over. I pulled it out now, as I introduced myself to Taylor’s neighbour on the left, asking if she’d seen anything last night. She hadn’t.
I rapped on doors for a fair way down the street and then crossed over and asked the people living in the houses opposite. One of them had seen Taylor and I get out of the taxi late last night, but none of them had seen anything else, saying that they’d been asleep in the small hours. It wasn’t surprising, but it was disappointing.
I left the last house on the opposite side of the street and headed back across the road towards Taylor’s. I saw her, still in pyjamas but with a dressing gown now, talking to an older man, who was dressed like he slept rough. I might’ve been worried except that Stephen was standing by them too. Taylor was the one talking, though, and I approached them curiously, wondering what the older bloke was saying to keep Taylor and Stephen looking so interested.
The rough sleeper broke off as I approached, eyeing me wit
h evident wariness.
“It’s alright, Doug,” Taylor said. “This is Darren Mitchell, he’s a good guy.” She sent a smile at me as she spoke, and I couldn’t help but return it.
“If you say so,” Doug grunted.
“Can you tell Darren what you told me?” Taylor asked politely. I noticed that she hadn’t told him I was police, though he might’ve already seen me flashing my badge at the houses, and the police car Stephen had driven over in was parked outside Taylor’s.
But Doug grudgingly assented. “I jus’ happened to be passin’ last night,” he said, his voice rough. He gestured vaguely up the street, and I nodded. There was a small shop down the ways, and I guessed that he’d taken a kip in the doorway there. “Got a bit chilly ‘round three? Four?” He shrugged. “I dunno, but was early, like.” I nodded again. “Yeah, so a bloke came down here sneaky like. I acted like I was sleepin’, y’know, and kept an eye on ‘im. I like the people ‘round here, right? Don’t want anyone gettin’ their TV nicked, y’know?” He nodded to himself, shifted from one booted foot to the other. “Then he comes up to Miss Taylor’s here, like, with a backpack on an’ all. I were ready to call you lot on ‘im and everything, but he just goes up close, like, to the ‘ouse, and skedaddles off again, right? Like he was jus’ having a look or s’thing.”
“Right,” I said, frowning. “You get a look at this guy?” I pulled out my notebook.
Doug shrugged, pulling out a hanky and blowing his nose on it. “He wasn’t tall, like you, mate, more like me own height.” I eyeballed Doug and guessed he was maybe five-foot-ten or five-eleven and wrote that down. “But I didn’t see much, like. Dark, y’understand?” He sniffed and thought for another moment. “He was scruffy, though. Big mop of shaggy hair, needin’ a haircut, like.” Doug’s own white-streaked hair was surprisingly neat, I registered as he said this, and I could see the lines of a recently used comb in it.
“That’s good, thanks. Anything else? You see his face?”
Doug pulled a doubting expression. “Not prop’ly. He looked a bit weasley, like a sneak ought’a look.” I hummed and wrote that down too. “Oh!” He put up a finger. “I thought t’myself that he looked young, like, too. Gangly, he was. Not all that tall, no, but long y’know. Like kids that aren’t grown fully yet, right?”
“Great,” I said absently as I scribbled. “You see which way he went after he left?”
Doug gestured off down the street, the opposite direction of the small shop. “Straight down there. Right weird it was.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, scanning the street for cameras, but I couldn’t see any. It was just a regular residential street. I wondered if the small convenience store had any.
“They don’t,” Doug said.
“What?”
He shrugged. “No cameras at the shop, lad. That what you were looking for?”
I cracked a smile. “Yeah, I was.”
Doug didn’t have much else to add and ambled off soon after, after he wished Taylor well.
“You know him?” I asked her, surprised.
She smiled. “Yeah, he’s sweet. I take him soup and tea in the winter.”
“That’s really kind,” I said, my heart feeling a little soft at her admission.
Stephen elbowed me, interrupting the moment. “We’ll take these off to the lab, then?” he said.
I glared at him. “Sure,” I gritted out, before giving him a small shove towards the car. “See you in the car, Huxley.”
He grinned crookedly at me and pretended to salute before wandering off. Taylor was chuckling, and I turned to smile.
“He’s such a pain,” I complained.
“I can’t believe you’ve only known him for a month or so,” she said. “You seem like old pals.”
“Feels like he’s been winding me up forever, yeah,” I agreed. I paused. “See you soon, then?” I asked.
Taylor came forwards to wrap me in a tight hug, her head tucked into my chest. I hugged her back. “I’d like that,” she said.
“Good. Me too.”
I headed back to the car with a light feeling in my chest, and Stephen started laughing the second I got into the passenger seat.
I flipped him off. “Shut up.”
“You’re lit up, mate,” he said. “Positively glowing. Adorable.”
“I am not-” I cut myself off and sighed. Taylor was standing in the doorway to the house, and I waved back at her as we drove off.
“What now then?” Stephen said.
“Oh, I’m allowed to decide this time?”
Stephen snorted. “Only if you’ve got some good ideas.”
“All my ideas are genius,” I said, deadpan. “For example, I reckon we go back to the station and get me a massive cup of coffee to wake me up.”
“Stayed up a bit late, did we?”
“It is a bleedin’ Saturday today.”
Stephen sighed. “Yeah, trust me, I know.”
We listened to the radio the rest of the way to the station. The lab team weren’t in today, but we put the birds in the fridge for Monday. I fetched myself the coffee I needed and set to writing up this morning’s incident and what Doug had said whilst Stephen uploaded the photos he’d taken.
“Not much else to be done, is there?” Stephen said, once he’d finished.
I polished off my last paragraph and nodded. “Yeah, you’re free to run off home again.” I patted his shoulder as we were logging off and getting our coats back on. “Thanks for coming in, though. Good of you.”
“You’re definitely babysitting the kids at some point, in return,” he told me.
“No!” I protested. “Stephen, that’s the opposite of a genius idea. The absolute worst-”
“Nonsense. You’ll be fine.”
We bickered about it on the way back to Stephen’s car. He gave me a lift home, since I wasn’t exactly in the right clothes for a morning run. My headache had mostly been conquered by the painkillers Taylor had given me, but it was beginning to come back again. I was glad to be back home.
“See you Monday, then,” Stephen said as I got out. “And not before!” he yelled after me. I waved at him without turning around, and he drove off as I went inside.
Thirteen
Sedgwick was at the station on Monday, as opposed to busily running around taking people’s interviews, and when he was in the break room, I headed over to talk to him.
“Good weekend?” I asked.
He dropped a tea bag into his mug and sent me an unimpressed look. “What do you want?”
Faintly annoyed, I flatly said, “I want updates on the case.”
“Of course you do,” Sedgwick muttered. I thought he was going to walk off and leave me to have to go and ask Gaskell to send me the details, but he just sighed and leaned against the counter.
“There haven’t been any major jumps forward,” he said steadily, as he fetched milk from the fridge for his tea. “There’s the obvious link to sports that we’re looking into as well, even though I’m aware of the work you and your partner have been putting in on that.” I bristled slightly at his use of the word ‘obvious’, like I hadn’t been the first one to realise that Hannah’s position had been football-related. But he was telling me what I wanted to know, so I kept quiet. “We interviewed a number of students at Emma’s ballet class,” that was the name of the second victim, I remembered, “and a couple of them had seen a man nearby, keeping his head covered. He left the moment the class finished, apparently, so only students who’d left early for some reason saw him.”
I rubbed my jaw as I thought over the new information. “Did any of them see-?”
“No,” Sedgwick said tightly. “There are no cameras nearby, and no-one got a good look at his face. We do have some descriptions of height and build, but nothing very clear to go on.”
“Great,” I muttered, and Sedgwick nodded.
“We had someone stationed outside the last time there was a class, on Wednesday, but no such man was seen.”
<
br /> “He’s probably moved on,” I said.
“Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”
“With the university and its societies closed, hopefully-”
Sedgwick waved his hand, cutting me off again. “There’ll be no more deaths, yeah, I know,” he said. “Doesn’t get any closer to closing this case, does it?”
“No,” I agreed. I’d been making myself a cup of coffee as he spoke and we stood for a minute in silence before Sedgwick shook his head and walked away without another word.
“Sedgwick!” I called.
He paused, with clear reluctance and gave me a cold look. “What?”
I walked over to him. “Did you ask the flatmates about dead animals being left outside their doors?”
Sedgwick pressed his lips together, frowning, and I took that for a clear ‘no’. He hadn’t believed that the cases had been connected at the time he did the interviews, if he even really did now.
“You should,” I said. He grunted and walked away. I watched him go before heading back to my own desk. I’d not gotten as much out of him as I might have liked, but I’m not saying that he actually knew much more. The case was still locked up tight.
My phone buzzed in my pocket as I was about to get started on some more research that was likely to get us nowhere. I tugged it out almost gratefully and smiled at the name on the screen.
“Taylor?” Stephen guessed.
I rolled my eyes at him. “No, actually. My old partner.”
He huffed. “I hope you grin like that when I call you,” he grumbled.
“Of course I do, mate,” I lied cheerfully, smacking his shoulder as I headed out of the office to take the call. Honestly, I liked Stephen just as much as a partner as I had Kay, my previous partner, but I hardly smiled when Stephen called, because it no doubt meant that something bad had happened. Whereas Kay had nothing to do with these cases, and therefore couldn’t give me any bad news.
“Kay!” I said when I picked up in the corridor. “How’re you?”
DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thrillers: Book 1-3 Page 37
