by Robert Innes
“Not all that well, I’m afraid,” Timothy said, carefully pruning dead leaves from some crimson coloured geraniums, rubbing any off that stuck to gardening gloves. “I didn’t really come into contact with the Stuarts family at all. As far as I’m aware, they’re not a religious family.”
“They never went to any church services?” Patil clarified.
“Not that I ever saw,” Timothy mused thoughtfully. “So, in answer to your inevitable question as to why young Daryl was found in the confessions booth, I really couldn’t say. I certainly didn’t take confession from him that day, and to my knowledge, neither did anybody else or, to that matter, ever have before.”
Blake watched as Timothy finished pruning the geraniums and picked up his watering can. He walked across to a weedy looking plant with small white coloured flowers and gently poured the water into the soil. “On the night that Daryl died, whereabouts were you?”
“I was here,” Timothy said confidently. “I went home shortly after we spoke about Imelda. I wasn’t feeling too well after everything that day, and all things considered, I thought it best to get myself an early night. I had an angina attack a few weeks ago, you see. They’ve told me I need to take it easy. Try and avoid any stress.”
“Do you know if anybody else was in the church that night?”
“Well,” Timothy said, lifting the can and examining the soil beneath the weedy plant. “When I got home, after Callum had been fussing over me for a while, I ended up falling asleep on the sofa in front of the television. A few hours later, I woke up, and went upstairs to bed. I was just getting my pyjamas on when I saw Jennifer making her way towards the church. I imagine she was meeting a parishioner there, she often does. She’s an excellent priest. I take it you’ve met her?”
“Yes, we have,” Blake said.
Blake hadn’t meant for his tone to betray any sort of personal feelings about Jennifer, but Timothy smiled all the same. “I’m guessing she was her normal accommodating self?” he chuckled. “Don’t think too harshly of her. She’s a good woman. She’s just one of life’s defensive types. After the battles she faced becoming a priest, you can hardly blame her.”
“Battles like she had with Imelda Atkins and Patricia Jenkins you mean?” Blake asked.
“Patricia and Imelda could be very cruel, especially when they got together,” answered Timothy, moving to a bed of roses nearby and pouring a generous helping of water. “All Jennifer has ever wanted to do is her duty for God. The ladies didn’t see it quite that way.” He lifted the watering can up and brushed one of the rose leaves with his gloved finger.
“Do you know much about why they didn’t get on?” Blake asked.
“I knew enough,” Timothy said crisply. “But it’s not up to me what goes on with anybody behind closed doors. I’m not a judgemental person. Looking down on other people isn’t what I’m here for. It’s just a pity Imelda and Patricia didn’t feel the same. But yes, as I say, myself and Callum were at home all evening.”
Blake inwardly cursed himself as a prickle of annoyance rattled through him at the mention of Callum.
“Is your grandson about?” Patil asked. “We’ll need to speak to him about his whereabouts the other night.”
“I haven’t seen him since yesterday.” Timothy mumbled, looking slightly worried. “I tried ringing him on his mobile, but it just went straight through to his answer machine, or whatever they’re called. I’m sure he’s alright. He does occasionally have little disappearing acts on his nights off. The freedom of youth, I suppose.”
Blake cleared his throat. “I saw Callum late last night as it happens. I think I’ve got a pretty good idea where he is. He certainly looked in fine health when I saw him.”
“Ah,” remarked the vicar. “With a gentleman, was he?”
Blake wasn’t quite sure why, but he was surprised that Timothy had any notion that Callum might be gay. “Erm, yes. I hope I haven’t gotten him into any trouble,” he said, trying not to admit to himself that he was lying through his teeth.
“No, no, no. Not at all,” Timothy said, waving a dismissive hand. “That was a conversation we had a couple of years ago. I brought Callum up from a young age, you see. He’s not had the easiest of lives. I think we both thought things were finally looking up for him when he had his job at the college, but after he was laid off, something about a zero hours contract, he got a bit depressed. He seems to be in a better place now though, and as I said, it doesn’t do me any good to look down on anybody. So long as he’s safe and happy, he’s free to see who he likes.”
“He’s very lucky to have you as a role model in his life.” Patil smiled.
“Do you happen to know who the young man he was with was?” Timothy asked.
“Well,” Blake said, putting his hands awkwardly in his pocket. He wished Callum had never been brought up at all now. “I think it was Harrison Baxter.”
“Ah, Harrison.” Timothy nodded. “That would make sense. Harrison was quite the talk of the village only a few months ago, as I’m sure you’re aware, DS Harte. They have quite a lot in common, I think. Both without parental figures.”
Timothy’s voice drifted off thoughtfully, but Blake barely noticed. He felt incredibly childish, but it pained him to admit that Timothy was probably right. Harrison needed someone who understood what he had been through from an emotional perspective going forward in his life. He remembered Callum’s flirtatious smile in the church a few days beforehand and conceded that it would have been easy for someone like Harrison to become attracted quite quickly.
“Was there anything else, Detective?” Timothy asked, breaking into Blake’s thoughts.
“Erm, no,” Blake replied, pulling himself together. “Not for the moment, Timothy. Thanks for your help.”
As they walked back to the car, Blake’s radio sprang into life.
“Go ahead, Matti,” he said, pulling it up to his mouth.
“Just got back from talking to Nigel Proctor’s family, Sir,” Mattison’s voice crackled through the radio. “They seemed surprised to see me, but they didn’t really have anything else to tell me. As far as they knew, Nigel was really popular around the village.”
Blake opened the passenger side door of the car and climbed inside. “What about his time working at the college?”
“He worked there for about thirty years,” Mattison replied. “He decided to take an early retirement, but he didn’t get to enjoy that much of it unfortunately.”
Blake frowned. “Alright, thanks Matti.” He put his radio down, and turned to Patil who had climbed into the car next to him.
“Now what, Sir?” she asked.
“You can go back to the station, Mini.”
“Okay. Are you coming with me, Sir?”
Blake climbed out the car. “No, I need to speak to Callum Croydon. And I know exactly where he is.”
Blake slammed the car door and walked away in the direction of Harrison’s cottage.
Harrison’s head began throbbing a few seconds before he opened his eyes. The sunlight streaming through the crack in his bedroom curtains felt like knives going into his head, so he quickly squeezed his eyelids closed again, groaning. Moments later, an arm wrapped around him and a stubbly face pressed up against the back of his neck.
“Good morning.”
For a brief moment, Harrison had no idea who the voice belonged to, but then a memory of dancing like he never had before on the platform in one of the clubs in Clackton came back to him, along with the numerous shots, and vodka and cokes he had consumed. And then, as he realised that both he and the body next to him were completely naked, the recollection of exactly what he and Callum had got up to when they had fallen through the front door, pulling off each other’s clothes in a drunken passionate frenzy, landed softly and pleasantly in his mind.
Harrison turned to face Callum. His hair still looked as good as it had when they had been riding the bus into Clackton, and his dashing grin still remained.
&nb
sp; “My head hurts,” Harrison moaned pathetically.
“Erm, yeah,” Callum laughed. “So does mine. Worth it though, I think.”
Harrison moved his head forwards and kissed him, probably far more gently than he had at any point so far into them knowing each other. “Absolutely. Thank god I’m not in work today. I don’t think I could face it.”
“Well,” Callum said, rolling over onto his front and looking at Harrison with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I don’t have to be anywhere either, not till this evening anyway.”
“I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am.” Harrison grinned.
“A damn hot one,” Callum said, pressing up against him.
“Well, I don’t feel particularly hot at the minute.” Harrison laughed. “I’m going to make a drink. Do you want one?”
Callum let out a small growl of frustration, but relented. “White coffee with two sugars. Don’t be too long though.”
Harrison leant forward and kissed him again, before getting out of bed, and pulling a t-shirt from the floor over his head. He then found a pair of scrunched up jogging bottoms under the bed and put them on as well.
Callum snorted as Harrison steadily made his way out of the room. “You won’t be in those for long.”
Harrison laughed. “The neighbours can see into my kitchen, I haven’t got any curtains in there yet. Mrs Garret would have a heart attack.”
He walked down the stairs slowly, allowing his body to acclimatise to being vertical again. As he trudged into the kitchen, and filled the kettle up he thought back over on what had been one of the best nights of his life.
Harrison had always enjoyed going out and dancing, it was just that his life over the past few years hadn’t really allowed it. Daniel had never liked Harrison going out without him being able to supervise in some capacity, and as more of Harrison’s old friends had left Harmschapel for university and other such pastures new, his social life had taken a significant nosedive. But although he was quite a shy and retiring person, once he had drank enough, Harrison found he didn’t care about what people thought of him. Last night was the first time in a long time that he had been able to completely let his hair down, and forget about all his old problems and anxieties.
Harrison flicked the kettle on, then searched his cupboards for two clean mugs. An indignant bleat from behind him, reminded him that Betty had been shut out of his room, where she normally slept, all night.
“Oh, hello,” he said gently. Her response was an obstinate glare.
While he was waiting for the kettle to boil, he pulled her large silver bowl out from under the sink, and filled it with her food, giving her extra as some way of apology for what she clearly regarded as his appalling treatment of her.
He was just filling the two cups with the water from the boiled kettle when there was a loud knock at the door.
Harrison frowned, then went into the living room and opened it. The visitor was not one he had expected.
“Morning, Harrison,” Blake said, looking cheerful. “Sorry to bother you.”
Harrison stared at him, surprised. “Erm, Blake. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Better than you look at the moment,” Blake said jokingly. “Late one, was it?”
Harrison could only nod.
“Can I come in?”
Harrison stepped aside to allow Blake into the cottage, closing the door, completely bemused.
“Do you want a tea or a coffee?”
“I’m here on business, I’m afraid,” Blake said grimly. “I don’t mean to embarrass you, but I was walking home late last night, and I couldn’t help seeing that you had a visitor.”
Harrison’s stomach flipped. He panicked, wondering if the neighbours had complained.
“Is Callum still here? It’s him I need to speak to.”
Harrison’s hung-over brain had only just began to process this information when he turned to see, with some dismay, Callum standing at the foot of the stairs in just a tight pair of boxers. Blake cleared his throat. Harrison couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or annoyed.
“Callum. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions. Have you spoken to your granddad since yesterday?”
Callum raised his eyebrows, apparently unbothered by standing in Harrison’s living room in front of someone he barely knew in just his underwear.
“No, not really,” he replied. “My phone ran out of battery before I went out last night. Has something happened? Is he alright?”
“Your granddad is fine,” Blake reassured him. “But I need to talk to you about – “He looked Callum up and down, then at Harrison, then back to Callum again. “Do you maybe want to put some clothes on before we go any further?”
Callum appeared nonchalant. “Do you want me to?”
“Well,” Blake said lightly. “I don’t want to have to nick you for indecent exposure.”
Harrison wasn’t quite sure from Blake’s face whether he was joking or not. Neither, it seemed, was Callum, who merely shrugged again and jogged back upstairs Harrison put his hands into his pockets awkwardly. He was mortified of what Blake must have been thinking.
“Has Callum done something wrong?”
Blake’s lips thinned for a moment, then he shook his head. “I just need to ask him some questions.”
“Is it about what’s been happening at the church?” Harrison asked. He vaguely remembered Callum mentioning to him about the deaths of some of the parishioners over the past few months.
“I can’t really discuss it,” Blake said bluntly. “Did you have a good birthday?”
“Well, I did most of my celebrating last night.” Harrison said, smiling to himself.
Blake cleared his throat again. “Well,” he said uncomfortably. “As long as you had fun.”
A few moments later, Callum came back downstairs, dressed in what he had been wearing the night before.
“Do you want to go somewhere else to do this?” Blake asked him.
“Am I under arrest?” Callum asked, his eyes narrowing.
“No,” Blake replied briskly. “I just have some questions to ask you.”
“Well, can we do it here then?”
“We can,” Blake said slowly. “But I’ll need Harrison to make himself scarce while I talk to you.”
Harrison stared at Blake. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll -I’ll just go and sort Betty out.”
“Thanks, Harrison,” Blake said, smiling.
Glancing at Callum, who sat in an armchair with his arms crossed expectantly, looking up at Blake, Harrison walked out of the living room and back into the kitchen. Betty was still eating her breakfast. Harrison briefly debated doing some washing up to occupy himself, but when Blake started talking, he couldn’t help creeping towards the ajar door to listen to what was being said.
“So,” Blake began. “I’m guessing, as you haven’t spoken to your granddad, that you won’t be aware of what’s happened.”
“There hasn’t been another death, has there?” Callum asked worriedly.
“I’m afraid so.” Blake replied. “Does the name Daryl Stuarts mean anything to you?”
“Daryl? He’s a student at the college, isn’t he?”
“He was,” Blake murmured. “I’m afraid he was found dead in the church two nights ago.”
“No way.” Callum said, sounding stunned. “Where?”
“In the confessions booth again,” Blake continued. “He wasn’t found till the next morning.”
“By who?”
Harrison pulled the door ever so slightly open and peered into the living room. Callum, who had looked reasonably cocksure a few moments ago, was now leaning forward with his hands over his mouth looking horrified at Blake, who was sitting on the small sofa looking grave.
“By me and one of my officers,” Blake replied, a slight bite in his voice. “Did you know Daryl?”
Callum shook his head, appearing dumbfounded. “No, not really. I knew the name because of being at
the college, but apart from that, not a clue. How did he die?”
“We’re still investigating.”
“You mean that it might have been another heart attack?” Callum asked, leaning forwards.
“Possibly. How long have you been seeing Harrison?”
Harrison’ eyes widened at the sound of his name.
Callum frowned. “Why do you need to know that?”
“I only ask so I can ascertain where you were the other night, sorry.” Blake smiled.
“Oh, no. I only met Harrison yesterday, actually. The other night I was at home all night with my granddad.”
Blake nodded, then paused before he asked his next question. Harrison glanced down at Betty who had finished her food, and was now lying down on the floor looking up inquisitively at him.
“I was wondering if you could tell me about your time at the college?”
Callum exhaled and leant back in the chair. “I was in the science labs as a technician, or lab assistant really, if you want the official title. Nothing overly complicated, just helping to set up for classes and things like that.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yeah, I loved it,” Callum replied. “I don’t know why, I just like science I guess. It was my favourite subject at school. But, you know, when you’ve got a zero hours contract, it’s pretty easy to be let go of when there’s not enough money to go around.”
“How long did you work there?” Blake asked.
“Erm, just a few months, last year.”
“I only ask because I was wondering if you knew anything about Nigel Proctor?” Blake inquired. “He was a caretaker there, wasn’t he?”
“Nigel? Yeah, he’d worked there for years.”
“Do you know why he stopped?”
“The official story was that he decided to take early retirement. But, well you know what the gossip mill can be like. You hear things.”
Blake leant forward, resting his arms on his knees. “And what did you hear?”
“Well, and I don’t know how true it is,” Callum said cautiously. “But the rumour was that he was sacked for inappropriate conduct with one of the students. Like I say, I’m not sure whether it’s true or not, but apparently he was found in one of the store cupboards with a girl.”
