DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thrillers: Book 1-3

by Oliver Davies

  He looked at me warmly. “You’re part of the team here, even if you are an oddball.”

  “Running isn’t odd,” I had to say.

  He rolled his eyes at me, and I smiled in return. I couldn’t wait to have many more years at Hewford station, bickering with Stephen. Just for today, I felt like I could easily conquer a marathon, and all of life’s other challenges, which would no doubt turn out to be much harder.

  Epilogue

  My wife had brought in fresh cups of tea as I was finishing up the tale, and I took a grateful sip now, my throat dry from all the talking. The mild ache was worth it to see Liam’s busily typing away, and the warm expression on Liam’s dad’s face.

  “That was quite a case,” he said.

  I chuckled wryly. “It certainly gave us the runaround for a while there.”

  Liam’s looked up from his computer, his eyes wide. “Wait,” he said, “you can’t have finished yet!”

  I raised my eyebrows. “And why’s that, lad?”

  “But- but what happened with Lawrence’s mum? Ellie Wooding? Did she really do it all for money? Did she actually help kill her husband?”

  Both Douglas and Liam looked at me expectantly, and I cleared my throat.

  “You’re right. I didn’t get to that part. Mrs Wooding was brought in for questioning. It came out over several days. Her husband had cheated on her and divorcing him would have left her with nothing.” I shook my head. “She always swore the initial kidnapping of her son had nothing to do with her, and that she got caught up with them by accident.”

  “Did you believe her?” Liam asked.

  I rubbed my jaw. “I don’t know, honestly. She also claimed she never meant any harm to her son, and that she never wished him to get hurt.” I pressed my lips together. “Whether or not she meant to, Lawrence did get very badly treated.”

  Liam nodded seriously, going back to his laptop to make copious notes.

  “It’s a hell of a thing to happen right here in York,” Douglas mused, shaking his head. “I mean, I get to hear about all the worst of humanity, but this is definitely up there.”

  “Aye,” I sighed. “It was a long time ago now.”

  “And did she go to prison? Did the kidnappers?” Liam asked.

  “Mrs Wooding? Yes, she did. Ten years, I think. And the kidnappers too.”

  “And what happened to Lawrence?”

  “Well, he lived with aunt and uncle, I believe,” I said.

  “Oh,” Liam said, looking downcast. “Not with Rebecca, the housekeeper?”

  I smiled. “I’m not sure, lad. Probably his aunt and uncle moved into the Wooding house, with Rebecca there.”

  Liam looked satisfied with that. “I could follow that up,” he said to himself. “See if Lawrence will talk to me.”

  I hesitated. “He may not like to be reminded of such a difficult time,” I said carefully. “He did lose his father.”

  Liam nodded seriously. “I know, I was only going to ask.”

  “Alright then,” I said, sitting back and taking another sip of my tea. There was a brief silence as Liam finished up his notes. Douglas waited patiently, looking around my living room.

  “All done!” Liam announced abruptly, closing the lid of his laptop.

  I gave him a smile. “That was speedy.”

  Liam puffed up slightly. “I have a typing speed of eighty words per minute.”

  “Really?” I said, charmed by his enthusiasm. “That’s very impressive.”

  “My dad can do over a hundred,” Liam said quickly, “but I’m still practising!”

  “Aye, you’ve got plenty of time to catch up,” I said, smiling.

  Liam put his laptop away in his bag, but didn’t zip it up. He looked back at his dad, who gave him a nod and a smile. I watched curiously, wondering what they were up to.

  Reaching into his rucksack, Liam pulled out a wrapped present, round and slightly lumpy. My face split into a surprised smile.

  “For me?”

  Liam grinned at me. “It’s not my birthday!” he teased, coming over to hand the present to me.

  “How did you know it was mine?” I asked as Liam sat back down next to his dad.

  Liam tapped the side of his nose, looking pleased with himself. “I know things.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Your research skills are impressive,” I said.

  Looking down at the present in my lap, I started peeling back the paper. It had ripped a little in the corner, no doubt after getting bumped around inside Liam’s bag during school, and I could see something black and shiny inside.

  I opened it up fully and let out a surprised laugh. “Coffee!” I said, delighted. It was a huge bag of ground coffee and marked as ‘extra strong’. “Thank you, Liam,” I said, touched by the gift. “This is really thoughtful.”

  Liam looked chuffed that I’d like it. “My dad helped choose,” he said modestly.

  I sent Douglas a grateful smile. “Well, thanks to you both.”

  Douglas nodded. “It’s the least we could do,” he said, “with all these stories you’re giving Liam.”

  “I’m always up for being paid in coffee,” I chuckled, setting the bag aside on the little table.

  Douglas glanced out of the window, and I followed his gaze, seeing how it was starting to darken outside.

  “No doubt you’ll be wanting your tea soon,” I said, standing up. Liam zipped up his bag and hopped to his feet, his father following.

  “Thanks for the story!” Liam said, slinging his bag onto his back. “I can’t wait to write it up. And I’ll bring you a copy, before we print it, of course!”

  “Thank you, lad,” I said.

  “Have a good evening,” Douglas said as I saw them out. “And thank you for having us.”

  “Anytime,” I said genuinely. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  Liam gave me a cheery wave as they headed off down the drive, and I watched them go. I heard my wife come up behind me, her slippers scruffing slightly on the carpet.

  “How did it go, love?” she asked.

  I stepped back to close the front door. “It went swimmingly,” I told her. “Thanks for the tea you brought in.” I kissed her forehead gently. “They brought me a birthday present, too.”

  “What’s that, then?”

  “Coffee!” I said with a grin.

  She shook her head at me, smiling. “You and your coffee, Darren.”

  I wrapped an arm around her shoulders as we made our way into the sitting room. We had a quiet life these days, and I knew that she didn’t much like to hear about how many times I’d gotten myself into danger over the years, so it was nice to share those tales with an audience who wanted to hear them.

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  Special thanks and credit to Moonstruck Covers Design & Photography, the studio responsible for this book’s cover!

 

 

 
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