I let my pace relax to a jog as I got my phone out and called Stephen. I’d jammed the thing in my pocket as I was fleeing from the farm, and I was damn lucky that it hadn’t fallen out as I was running.
“Hey, Mitch, are you running late?”
“No, that’s- Call into the nearest station, Steph,” I managed between pants, still catching my breath after busting a gut up the slope from the farm. “I found something.”
“Found what? What’s going on?”
“A farm, dogs, some guys tried shooting at me-”
“Christ! You could’ve led with that!”
“Aye, sorry.”
I focused on my footing during a tricky bit of the path, glancing back over my shoulder as I went and not for the first time. I’d lost height, though, as the path descended the hill, and I couldn’t see anyone following me.
“Darren? You there?”
“I’m here.”
“Are they still after you?”
“No, I’m alright now,” I said, taking a breath and getting my thoughts together. “Look, I’ll pin the location on my phone and send it over to you. Get the police up to the farm, okay? Sharpish. I reckon they’re going to get out of there as fast as they can.”
“Do it,” Stephen agreed.
I slowed to a walk as I brought up my GPS, cursing when my phone was being slow to tag the farm’s location.
“I’ve got it,” Stephen confirmed a moment later. “Where am I meeting you?”
“The pub will be easiest. I’ll be there in twenty, at most.”
“See you then.”
He’d sounded deadly serious as we talked, and I knew he’d contact the local police as quickly as he could like I’d asked. For now, I focused solely on getting down the remainder of the moorland without doing myself an injury. I tried not to think too deeply about what I’d seen up at that farm, but I wasn’t entirely successful. The memories and smells of that barn kept rotating around my head. I felt decidedly sick by the time I reached the pub’s car park, and not just from overexerting myself.
“You okay?” a voice asked.
I’d been bent over my knees, wondering whether I was going to lose my breakfast, and I straightened up. Stephen stood in front of me, looking touchingly concerned. The sight of him alone made something tight in my stomach unclench.
“Are you hurt?” he pressed when I didn’t immediately respond. I gave a shaky exhale and shook my head.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“C’mon, let’s sit you down in the car.”
He took my elbow, which I didn’t think was necessary until I took a step and realised how unsteady my knees had gone just in the minute or so I’d been standing there. He opened up the door for me, and I sat down gratefully. The smell of chips filled the car, and nausea fought with a sudden hunger for a moment before my grumbling stomach won out.
“I don’t know if you want them now, but I did get you chips,” Stephen said after he’d climbed in.
“Thanks, mate.”
He grabbed them from the back seat along with a bottle of water, and I took both gratefully. I dug in as he set off, savouring the tangy vinegar taste of good Yorkshire pub chips.
“Where are we headed?” I asked once I’d made my way through half the box.
“The local police station.” His hands clenched briefly on the steering wheel. “Apparently, they can’t send officers up there to the farm, but the bloke wouldn’t tell me why on the phone.”
I straightened up. “What? So they’ll just be allowed to run off without us even sticking our noses in?”
“I don’t know, mate, I’m sorry. I told them everything you said, I was pretty damn insistent about it, actually-”
“No, no, I know, it’s not your fault,” I assured him as his voice turned defensive.
“What did you see up there exactly?” Stephen asked, glancing over at me. “You said you found something and that they tried to shoot at you, but you didn’t say why they’d do that.”
“I heard a bunch of dogs barking and stuck my nose in, really. It looked like… well, it looked like some kind of illegal dog breeding, I guess.”
“There were dogs and puppies at the farm?”
“In one of the barns, behind a massive wire fence, aye.”
As I said that, I remembered the cut on my hand and looked at the back. As if on cue, the gash started stinging painfully, and I clenched my jaw. It wasn’t too deep, but it was bleeding still and making a mess of my coat.
“The first aid kit’s in the boot,” Stephen said, noticing what I was looking at.
He pulled the car over, even when I tried to tell him that I’d be fine with some tissues until we reached the police station.
“Rubbish,” he said as he climbed out. He fetched the kit for me and tossed it on my lap as he got back in the driver’s seat. “We don’t need you getting tetanus. You are up to date on your jabs, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” I rolled my eyes at him.
I focused on getting the cut cleaned up and a plaster stuck securely on top as Stephen drove the last stretch of the way to the local police station, based in the small town of Ellerton. My mind continued to process what I’d seen up on the hills, chewing over a thought I had ever since I first saw that dog looking up at me.
“If they were breeding dogs there,” I started slowly, “the farm might be linked to dogfighting. They looked like Staffordshire Bull Terriers to me or a similar type.”
I zipped up the first aid bag and frowned out of the window. I didn’t understand how people could be so cruel.
“Even more reason they should have sent a team up,” Stephen muttered.
“Aye. I hope they have a ruddy good reason that they didn’t.”
I loathed the idea that the men I’d seen, including the guy who’d dragged that poor dog around and then shot his rifle at me, would get away with the animals scot-free. The sad eyes of the dog and her puppies in the barn pulled at my heartstrings.
The cut on my hand was stinging as I climbed out of the car at Ellerton police station. The place reminded me a little of Lockdale, the countryside station I’d worked at before I’d moved to the big city, but it wasn’t really the same. I felt a pang at how long it’d been since I caught up with my old colleagues and made a mental note to give Kay a call when I could. Like Stephen and Sam, she’d not be best pleased to hear that I’d gone and got myself shot at today, but maybe she wouldn’t have to know that part.
I pushed the car door shut, and Stephen and I headed over to the front of the station. The young bloke on the desk seemed to realise who we were, and I’d barely said my name before he was ushering us through to an office at the back. Inside, the station had been more recently updated and better maintained than at Lockdale, though I thought it lacked some of the character. We were offered hot drinks. Impatient as I was to hear their explanation, it was chilly in the building, so we accepted.
“DCI Mitchell, DI Huxley, a pleasure to meet you,” a tall, Black man greeted us as we came into the office. He reached across the table to shake our hands. “I’m Chief Inspector Maduewesi. Thanks for coming over here.”
His grip was firm, and the steady look to his eyes, along with the patches of grey in his hair, made him look like someone experienced that we could trust. Still, I was unhappy about what had happened and more than ready to hear why the Ellerton officers had refused to respond to Stephen’s call.
“Please take a seat,” he said as he sat down opposite us, his hands resting on top of the table. He turned to look at me. “I hear you had a scary experience earlier today. I hope you’re not injured?”
“Nothing major. What I’d like to know is why the back-up we requested wasn’t authorised by you.”
“Ah.” Maduewesi sat back in his chair slightly. “You’d do better to talk to Kate Russ from LACS about this, but she wasn’t available on short notice, so you’ve got me.”
“LACS?” I repeated. The acronym was familiar, but I
couldn’t quite place it.
“The League Against Cruel Sports. They’ve been working with us and a number of other officers and organisations on the case involving Ridge Down farm, where you were attacked.”
“So there’s already an enquiry?” I said, surprised.
If this LACS charity was involved, then they must suspect that the farm had links to dogfighting, I realised as I adjusted to the new information. They could’ve been investigating badger-baiting or illegal fox hunting, of course, but the dogs I’d seen in the barn surely proved that they were using them in fights, either dog-on-dog or against other poor creatures.
“Yes, which is why we couldn’t do as you asked. If you’d still been in harm’s way, we would have intercepted immediately, of course, but-”
“But what I saw there was proof,” I insisted. Maduewesi’s lips pressed together in annoyance at the interruption, but I hadn’t been able to stop myself. “If there’s already a case investigating the place, then why not go up there now? Surely there’s enough proof there to sink the lot of them with what was in that barn.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple,” Maduewesi said, looking at me flatly. “We’ve got an officer working undercover within the ring, but they’ve not been able to get solid evidence against those who are truly to blame. And those people aren’t on that farm, DCI Mitchell.”
“I see,” I said crisply, and I did understand. I’d accidentally stumbled on an ongoing operation and stuck my foot in, despite having good intentions. Clearly, this case they were running was sensitive, and they were playing the long game. I sighed. “I apologise if I’ve caused a setback for you, that was never my intention.”
“You weren’t to know. We’ve been keeping an eye on Ridge Down, and so far, they haven’t cleared the place out.”
“Really? I thought for sure I’d rattled them.” I raised my eyebrows. “Maybe they’ve dismissed me an overly curious runner, then.”
“We can hope,” the Chief Inspector agreed with a nod.
We wrapped it up after that, with Maduewesi giving me the contact number for the LACS employee I could speak to when I asked for it. I doubted that the pictures on my phone were any good, I hadn’t managed to find the time to check yet, but I wanted a way to be able to contact the charity if anything else came up.
Stephen kindly offered to drive us back to Hewford, even though he’d done the drive out here. My hand was still stinging from the wire cut, and the bandage had seeped through a little.
“You might need stitches for that.”
I glanced over at Stephen and shook my head. “I don’t think so. It’s pretty much stopped now.”
He gave an unconvinced grunt but didn’t press me. We didn’t talk much as the drive wore on, my head resting awkwardly against the car door and my aching legs feeling heavy enough to sink through the seat. Helping out with the drugs seizure and going for a run would’ve been enough to conk me out by this evening. The added terror of being shot at and the fact that I’d pushed myself far beyond my usual limits when I was running were enough to have me falling asleep in the warm car.
I stirred when I felt the car slow down and heard Stephen speaking, though I didn’t pick out the words.
“What?” I mumbled.
“-and an espresso. As large and dark as you can, thanks.”
We were at a drive-through window, I realised. Stephen passed over a paper cup of coffee to me when he realised I was awake, as well as a wrapped up blueberry muffin. I looked at it, unimpressed.
“Is that for you?” I said, still only half awake.
“Nope. You need some sugar in you. Don’t look at the calories, mate. Just eat it.”
I grumbled at him about how he was going to be the death of me and that I was only trying to keep fit, but I ate the muffin, anyway. Stephen knew I had a weakness for blueberry ones, and they did go so well with a good dark coffee.
We spent a few minutes in the cafe car park while Stephen downed his milky latte and ate the doughnut and cheese toastie he’d ordered. Then we set off again, not too far from Hewford now. It was still the afternoon, though my nap made it feel later, and I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.
“You feeling okay?” Stephen sent me a concerned look.
“Aye, I’m alright.” I gave him a smile that probably looked a little tight around the corners.
“D’you want some painkillers?”
“Nah, it’s not that. I wish I could’ve done something for those dogs, you know?”
Stephen didn’t tease me for being soft, which I appreciated. Usually, I wouldn’t have minded a comment like that. I might’ve expected a bit of ribbing, actually, but I was still feeling a little raw.
“I know, Mitch. Those folks at LACS will have it under control, right?”
“I hope so.”
In the few minutes we had before we were back at the station, I pulled out my phone and had a look through the photo gallery. As I’d thought, the photos I’d taken of the inside of the barn weren’t good ones, either blurry or too dim. My flash had been turned off, and by the time I’d realised and toggled it on, that bloke showed up, and I had to turn tail. I tried fiddling with the brightness settings and managed to make the photo at least recognisable. The dog in the foreground pen was about visible, though seeing her puppies was a struggle, and I could make out the structures of the pens stretching back into the dark barn.
I sighed. Maybe LACS could use the pictures, or maybe they couldn’t, but handing them over to them wouldn’t do any harm. Though we’d learned about dogfighting as a trainee as a matter of course, and I knew a good amount about the evil practice, it wasn’t my area, and I certainly wasn’t an expert. Better to let those who were properly trained in handling crimes like these deal with it all.
We arrived back at the station, and I went reluctantly over to Rashford’s office to fill her in on what had happened. I wasn’t much keen to tell her about my somewhat reckless behaviour in trespassing onto the farm’s property, especially without letting anyone know where I was and how I’d ended up stumbling into another organisation’s investigation. It wasn’t exactly my finest moment, even though I’d done little that was technically wrong, but I owed her the truth, anyway.
Her frown when I finished wasn’t a surprise, but she didn’t berate me.
“It is what it is,” she said, “and I appreciate the update. But next time, think about reporting it in on the radio before going off on your own, would you, Mitchell?”
I nodded, noting how she’d used the words ‘next time’ like a repeat was inevitable. And it probably was, if I was honest with myself. Even for a detective, sometimes I was a little too curious.
“Perhaps you should take the afternoon off,” she suggested as I was rising from my seat to leave the office. For some reason, I hadn’t expected her to offer that, and I reflexively shook my head.
“That’s not necessary, ma’am. I’m fine.”
She gave me a long look before nodding, dismissing me.
“What did she say?” Stephen asked when I came back.
“Oh, everything you and Sam like to say. Don’t be a reckless idiot, all of that.”
“I swear, one day I’ll get you to listen to us,” he said with a long-suffering air. I gave him a grin that was bound to annoy him.
“I don’t know, mate. I’ve got a thick skull.”
“Don’t I know it,” he laughed, giving me a nookie on the head before I batted him off.
“Watch it. I’ve been doing self-defence classes, y’know?” I told him with a laugh. “You’ll end up on your butt before you know it.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“It’s on,” I said, shaking my head at his antics.
Honestly, it’d be good if I could drag Stephen down to the gym with me sometime. Without any extra techniques, I doubted I could take him since he was probably twice my weight and naturally built like a forklift truck, even if I had a few inches of height on him. Whilst he only
had the regular amount of physical training officers were given, he’d dealt with plenty of rowdy, drunk folks in his time as well as desperate ones, so it wasn’t like he didn’t know what to do with himself in a fight. Facing off against him in the gym, and trying out some of the techniques I’d been learning, would be a good test for me. I’d be able to see whether what I’d been taught would hold up if I was faced with a bloke like Stephen in a scrap. And it’d be fun to see the shocked expression on his face if I did put him on his arse, I thought with a private grin.
Much as I didn’t really want to, we settled into working on the last bit of the policing strategies planning report for the afternoon. I settled into the rhythm of it, thinking through the proposals we’d suggested and trying to troubleshoot in advance any problems that might arise.
We took a break in the mid-afternoon, with me going off to get a late lunch. The chips Stephen had got me had been good, but they hadn’t been enough to tide me over till tea after all the exercise I’d done. I fetched myself and Stephen some fresh drinks too, with a steaming cup of black coffee for myself.
As I ate, I tried to avoid thinking too hard about what had happened earlier. Instead, I scrolled through the news on my phone. I wasn’t entirely successful. The whole incident had rattled me more than I was letting on, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to think about it yet. I knew that Stephen was aware of the tension in me, as he’d been sending sideways glances my way almost since he picked me up from the pub car park. He’d also given me a concerned look when he caught me rubbing my fingers over the plaster on my hand when I was meant to be working, staring ahead into space instead.
“Maybe you should take off early, eh?” he said around four. I’d given a heavy sigh a moment ago, and Stephen’s expression told me it wasn’t the first time.
Tooth and Claw Page 4
