Dark Order : A Harrison Lane Mystery (The Dr Harrison Lane Mysteries Book 3)

by Gwyn GB

  They talked about Kings, the politics there, the latest research grants, and Harrison told him about the visit from Leo Fawcett.

  ‘He’s right, you know,’ said Andrew, ‘it’s a feather in your cap. They wouldn’t be chasing you if you weren’t making a difference and getting results. It’s a promotion and recognition of your work. It’s what you wanted.’

  ‘I guess,’ Harrison had replied. He found it hard sometimes to see the compliment in things.

  Andrew’s tongue had become looser as the meal went on, helped by the disappearing bottle of Barolo. Harrison saw no hint of the issue that had clearly been preying on Andrew’s mind when they’d last met. Then Harrison told him about the meeting with Inspector Rob Morgan, and Andrew’s mood changed. He told him what the police officer had said, and how Jack was looking into getting his mother’s case re-opened. Instead of what he’d expected to be an enthusiastic and empathetic response, when he finished speaking there was a stony silence.

  Andrew wasn’t looking at Harrison. He was staring grimly at the table in front of him. He took another large slug of wine.

  ‘You may not like what I’m going to say now, but I have to say this to you. Do you not think it’s time to move on and not stir up a hornet’s nest?’ Andrew looked up and stared into Harrison’s eyes. His normally relaxed and friendly features were set, and his face seemed to have hardened into corners rather than its usual soft curves.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They’re dangerous people Harrison. You know they’ve killed twice, and it was all a long time ago now. Perhaps you should just focus on catching those who are threatening people today.’ Andrew looked back down again, aware that his words would not have found a willing audience.

  ‘You know how much this means to me. I’ve waited for this, for the moment when I could prove that they had murdered my mother.’

  ‘I know,’ Andrew’s voice had grown quiet. ‘I just don’t want this to… I don’t want it to consume you. I don’t want to see you hurt.’

  Harrison’s stomach had tied itself into a knot. He felt anger and betrayal swirling around his insides. He couldn’t believe what Andrew was suggesting.

  ‘Hurt? How can they hurt me anymore than they already have?’

  Andrew stared straight at Harrison, determination and defiance replacing the friendly half-drunk warmth that had been in his eyes just minutes before.

  ‘People like them will always find ways of hurting you.’

  7

  The moment he woke up the next morning, Harrison’s mind went to the conversation with Andrew. The evening had ended a little awkwardly and although one conversation couldn’t wreck a friendship that had lasted all his adult life, it had certainly left a bad taste in his mouth. Harrison had tried to work out why Andrew would have said what he did, he’d never intimated those thoughts before and it was out of character. Andrew’s default personality was positive and encouraging. It had been Andrew who’d given him the confidence to propose the setting up of the Ritualistic Behavioural Crime unit. As far as Harrison could tell, and he knew the man well, it hadn’t been negative emotions behind Andrew’s words. There was no anger, impatience, or even irritation. It wasn’t that he was tired of Harrison talking about the subject. It had been concern he’d seen behind the frown on Andrew’s face. So what was Harrison missing?

  With today being one of his twice weekly fasting days, Harrison didn’t need to worry about breakfast and so was up and in the office early. Tanya was on his mind and so he texted her to see if she wanted to meet up later. Spending an evening with her would be a good antidote to the disappointment in his belly. He’d not seen her for a few days now, and he felt guilty that the last two evenings she’d proposed they meet up, he’d been busy. The first because it was the Tae Kwon Do night at the youth club. He didn’t like to let the kids down, and there was one lad in particular that he’d wanted to connect with that evening. Yusuf had already been in trouble with the police, but he’d been trying hard to sort himself out. In the last few weeks Harrison had noticed him wearing new trainers and clothes, and not only did he seem to be spending more time on his mobile phone, but he’d seen two phones in his possession. County lines drug dealers were always looking to recruit vulnerable young people to do their dirty work. If Harrison could help prevent one young life from being ruined, then he would. Unfortunately, Yusuf hadn’t turned up. The first session he’d missed in eighteen months. Harrison had got in touch with his caseworker and shared his fears. He’d also called his mother, but neither of them had been much help. It was no wonder the lad, and others like him, saw drug dealing as the only way to improve his circumstances, and his gang as the family to protect him.

  Tanya texted back almost straight away with a sad emoji and the news she couldn’t make tonight due to a departmental meeting. She suggested the following evening and Harrison gave the thumbs up. Thoughts of a pleasant few hours in her company cheered him up.

  Harrison tried to concentrate on the emails which had already started staking up in his inbox. They weren’t just coming from Metropolitan police divisions, but from forces all over the UK. He had to admit that Leo Fawcett was right. He was increasingly in demand all over the country and to stay under just one force’s umbrella was wrong. It was time to have the conversation with Ryan.

  Ryan didn’t burst into the office with his usual enthusiasm. He positively crept in.

  ‘Boss,’ he said to Harrison by way of greeting.

  ‘Ryan, we need to have a chat about what Leo Fawcett proposed to me yesterday.’

  Harrison saw the tremor of worry cross Ryan’s face again.

  ‘It’s all positive. I’m really hoping you’re going to be pleased,’ he added quickly to reassure him.

  ‘You mean they’re not making me redundant?’ Ryan’s eyes squinted as he scanned Harrison’s features for clues.

  ‘Absolutely not. I need you. We are being promoted.’

  It was like a pilot light had suddenly burst into life inside him. Ryan’s whole demeanour changed from wilting lettuce to towering sunflower. If he’d been a dog, Harrison would have seen his ears prick up and tail wag energetically.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Ryan said, dumping his rucksack down beside his desk and heading over to their little sink in the corner. ‘What’s your poison? Mint or Chamomile?’

  Repeating what Leo had said, and explaining the situation to Ryan also helped Harrison to work through the situation in his own head.

  ‘I think we should stay in London for the time being, until we’re settled in to the NCA,’ Harrison said to his assistant. Ryan had nodded eagerly. Harrisson knew he suffered from agoraphobia. It wasn’t just a case of being fearful of open spaces, it was more about unfamiliar environments. Ryan was comfortable with the daily journey from his flat to the office. Asking him to not only move office and job but also home, all in one go, would put tremendous stress on him. No one else knew about his condition. They kept it between the two of them. Harrison wasn’t about to expose him now.

  ‘Do you think they’ll get me a new computer?’ he asked Harrison.

  ‘I think we can pretty much ask for whatever it is we need.’

  ‘I’ll write up a spec now.’ Ryan jumped up from the chair next to Harrison’s desk where they’d been chatting.

  ‘Thanks, Ryan.’ Harrison smiled at him warmly.

  ‘I hope they’ve got a decent canteen,’ was all he replied. Normal business had been resumed.

  Harrison returned to his emails. There was one from an officer in Streatham who was dealing with a church yard vandalism incident. Someone had attempted to access a grave from the 1800s and they wanted to know if Harrison could explain why. He forwarded it to Ryan. This was just the kind of puzzle he liked to solve. Just as he pressed send, his mobile rang.

  DCI Sandra Barker’s name flashed up.

  ‘Sandra,’ Harrison greeted her.

  ‘Harrison, I need your help. Please.’

  Sa
ndra’s voice conveyed the tension she was feeling.

  ‘Of course,’ he’d replied. It had to be serious for her to sound this stressed.

  ‘It’s Gemma,’ she started. ‘She says she’s been confronted by a ghost, and a student has been murdered. I don’t know what’s going on Harrison. Have you seen the newspapers? It’s all over the nationals. Can you get to Durham and see what’s happening? Detective Superintendent Robert Jackson has spoken to the Chief Constable there. They’ve not got any expertise for this kind of thing. Gemma isn’t the only one. About a hundred students have reported sightings, and locals too. It’s getting out of control. They’d welcome your help, and so would I.’

  Harrison went straight to the newspapers online to see what Sandra was referring to, and get a feel for what he might find.

  “Durham terrorised by murderous monk,” “Is monk ghost prophesying disaster for Durham?” “Durham under Siege: Students fear for their lives.”

  The newspapers said hundreds of students and locals had seen the ghost of a faceless monk walking the streets of the city in the past two weeks. Then just two days ago, a student had been murdered, his body dressed in a monk’s cloak and placed in a boat that was left to float down the River Wear. Police were baffled, and the University was trying to calm down students and parents who were threatening to leave in fear.

  Harrison knew that most of the hype was going to be just that, hype, but there was clearly a problem. A student had been killed and from what Sandra said, although the police were unlikely to be totally “baffled”, they were struggling to understand what was going on.

  ‘Ryan, your new tech spec will have to wait. I’ve got a job for you,’ Harrison said. Five minutes later, he pressed send on another text to Tanya. He had to blow her out yet again. He looked at the photograph of her on the WhatsApp profile and sighed, then he headed to his flat to pack a bag and filled up his bike with petrol ready for the four and half hour journey north.

  8

  Ryan put together a briefing document for Harrison to give him a bit of background before he arrived in Durham. Monks were critical to the City’s history and understanding the past could help in solving the current problem. Harrison had never been there before but knew that despite its small size, it was big on history and heritage. Durham was in the northeast of England, and the principal town of the County of Durham. They’d built Durham cathedral over the last resting place of Saint Cuthbert, a medieval monk, bishop and hermit, who became a Saint after his death in AD 687. Cuthbert had briefly been the Bishop of Lindisfarne, where his remains were originally interred, but as the Danes looted the churches, the monks carried his body to safety and he was eventually brought to rest many years later in Durham in 995, when they effectively founded the city. The castle was built almost eighty years later as an imposing fortress. Cuthbert’s relic wasn’t alone either. The head of St Oswald of Northumbria and the remains of the Venerable Bede, were also in Durham cathedral.

  The University was founded there in 1832, with the castle designated its first college. It remains one of the top Universities in the UK.

  Ryan couldn’t find any stories of monastic hauntings in recent years, so whatever Harrison was travelling to, it was something new. He did, however, discover that the cathedral cloisters had featured in the Harry Potter films as Hogwart’s quadrangle, and being a Potterhead, he’d included a shot from the movie to show Harrison.

  Harrison wanted to get up to speed with the facts before getting Ryan to investigate anything specific, but he asked him to start monitoring social media and the student chat boards in case something jumped out in particular.

  They’d arranged for Harrison to stay at the Radisson Blu and he made sure he brought his gym clothes with him. By the time he arrived, it was dark. The city looked stunning, with the cathedral and castle illuminated. He rode slowly across the River Wear. Its bridges were also lit up and shimmering in the water below. Despite the distraction, he was relieved to reach the hotel. Riding the bike long distances was always tiring, and he couldn’t wait to get his leathers off and have a good stretch and shower. It wasn’t yet 7pm, and as he didn’t plan on eating until the morning, Harrison decided he’d spend the time having a wander around the city before bed. It would stretch his legs and give him some exercise after sitting on the bike.

  First task was getting checked in and freshened up. He’d just placed his bag down in the room when his phone went.

  ‘Dr Lane? This is DS Urquhart, Major Crime team with the Durham Constabulary. Welcome to the city. I’m going to be your liaison. I understand you like to get stuck into a case as soon as possible. Can I buy you dinner at eight?’

  ‘No dinner, thank you, but it would be good to meet up and go through what you have so far and the major crime sites.’

  ‘Excellent. I’ll meet you in the Radisson foyer at 8pm and give you a walking tour.’

  DS David Urquhart turned out to be a stick thin Newcastle native with a penchant for burgers. He had just finished consuming a large one and had to go and wash his hands in the hotel bathroom before they could get underway.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ he said to Harrison when he rejoined him. ‘I put too much ketchup on. Lucky it didn’t go all over my Magpies jumper.’

  The jumper in question was a black and white Newcastle United Football Club jumper, which was clearly a prized possession in David’s wardrobe. Harrison thought it might have looked better with a good dollop of red. He wasn’t singling out Newcastle, he just wasn’t a football fan.

  ‘I thought I’d show you the key areas for the ghost sightings, although to be honest they’re coming in from all over now, and where we think the murder victim may have been placed in the boat.’ DS Urquhart said to him. His accent was not as Geordie as some Harrison had met from the area, and he guessed he’d probably spent a fair amount of time away, which had smoothed some of the harder vowels.

  ‘It’s getting crazy out there. I’ve never seen anything like it. Since the murder, our reception has been mobbed with people saying they’ve seen the ghost and we’ve had to put extra resource on the phones. So you do lots of this kind of thing then?’ David immediately added. ‘Those symbols on the victim’s chest are freaky. I’ve never come across nowt like that before.’

  ‘Symbols?’

  ‘Yeah, on the murder victim, the monk. He had stuff carved into his chest. That’s what we’re hoping you’re going to throw some light on.’

  ‘Who was he?’

  ‘A student, University College, which is in the castle, and the family are very wealthy and well connected. We’re looking at a host of potential motives. The mother is a hot shot financial lawyer, and the father is titled. Came from a long line of baronets or something like that. We need to cross the river.’

  They had come out of the hotel, a modern building of mostly red brick and glass, and were immediately faced with a steel footbridge across the river. Harrison let David lead them across and past the Premier Inn, along Freeman’s Place and underneath a not particularly attractive modern vehicular bridge which David reliably informed him was the Walkergate area.

  Within a minute or two, they were into the older part of the town. Brown stone buildings and a large marketplace were on their right.

  ‘That’s the town hall over there,’ David said. He didn’t need to point out Boots the Chemist on their left, its modern blue and white facade contrasting with its traditional neighbours. ‘This is Silver street which leads into Sadler Street and it’s in that part of town that the ghost was originally seen. Down to our left is Elvet bridge which leads back across the river, but this is on the other side of the meander to the one we just crossed. That’s where the two lads spotted the rowing boat with the victim in it.’

  ‘I’d like to see where you think the murder took place first.’

  ‘Well, we can’t say for certain it did take place along the river. Obviously he was put in a boat along here, but could have been killed somewhere else entirely.’ />
  ‘Of course.’

  DS Urquhart looked at Harrison trying to judge his reaction, and then continued.

  ‘We’ve got two sites that the dog has shown an interest in which would fit with the boat being launched, but no other evidence.’

  They walked down and onto the path by the side of the river.

  ‘As you can see, there’s not a great deal of space down here. Really it’s just a narrow path with a wall and then the river. It’s possible the murder took place further upstream. Not much further up there is the Hatfield College Boat Club, then Kingsgate Bridge.’

  ‘Wasn’t he from University College?’

  ‘Yes, but their boat club is round the bend of the meander, so a fair way back upstream. We did send the dogs in, but they came back with nothing. The victim wasn’t involved with the boat clubs. It’s also a long way for it to have floated without somebody spotting it.’

  ‘I thought it was late at night and dark.’

  ‘It was, but it would have had to pass under Kingsgate Bridge and past quite a few buildings and restaurants which have a good view of the river.’

  ‘Where does that path lead?’

  Harrison pointed to some railings on the top of the wall which led up through the undergrowth.

  ‘Eventually takes you back out to Sadler Street again.’

  ‘And the areas the dogs identified?’

  ‘Here, where the wall is lower, and then further along where the path rises slightly. It would be easy to hide a boat in that undergrowth along the edge of the river there.’