Short Stories, Found Online

by Jonathan Day

There was tedium in the DI's tone, as though the subject had been broached once too often.

  'Yeah, the blogger mentioned that.'

  'If she must know, his real name was Rupert, or at least that was the one the nurse looking after the newborn gave him - apparently after Rupert Bear. Barnardos added a Smith later.'

  'Must've been one hell of a man. Didn't he get a posthumous award?'

  The obvious admiration in the sergeant's tone seemed to annoy the DI. 'That would have done him about as much good as a new name.'

  PS Harris detected the hardening in his mercurial superior's attitude. 'Poor bugger, I say. Not surprised they treat him like some sort of god.'

  'I have a problem with gods.' Then DI Dalton announced without warning, 'I was adopted.'

  'That so? How old were you?'

  '21.'

  PS Harris wanted nothing more than to get home that evening. His daughter's cooking and pint at the local would help distract him from the day's nonsense. So, as per instructions, he ensured that DI Dalton was safely in his hotel room working with his forensic kit before leaving. He had been tempted to lock him in, but even this menace to his peace of mind was entitled to go downstairs for an evening meal.

  Braced for the escort duties of following day, PS Harris arrived early at the station. Their usual unmarked car wasn't there, so he assumed somebody else had taken it out.

  PC Wren looked up from the front desk. 'Hello Sarge, didn't expect to see you here?'

  PS Harris was puzzled. 'What?'

  'Just as well you are, though. Mr Kapoor and his mum-in-law say they want to see you urgently. They've been here since six.'

  There were two anxious expressions watching from the waiting area so he immediately went over to them.

  'What's the problem, Mr Kapoor?'

  'I hope this means nothing, but my wife's mother is insistent that there is something you should know.'

  'About the Gauvin case?'

  'No. About DI Dalton.'

  PS Harris' soul had thought it could sink no lower. Nightmare scenarios of what the DI had been up to behind his back flashed through his mind. PC Wren noticed the change in his expression. She watched from the other side of the glass partition as Mr Kapoor translated what Mrs Prasad had to say.

  Harris's expression was so thunderous when he stormed back to the desk she daren't ask what it was.

  'Where is he?!' he demanded.

  'DI Dalton took the car. I assumed he was going to pick you up.'

  'Like hell he was! Did he say where he was going?'

  'There was a call from Mrs Gauvin just as Mr Kapoor arrived. She said he wanted to talk to her, so I texted the DI and he came in straight away. Is there anything wrong Sarge?'

  'Where that man is concerned, everything is wrong. I need a car.'

  'AD55 is waiting outside.' She handed him the keys. 'Shall I tell anyone else?'

  'The chief inspector.'

  'It's still early.'

  'Then wake him up!'

  Harris dashed out, followed by Mr Kapoor and Mrs Prasad.

  The early morning mist was just lifting when DI Dalton arrived. He left the car at the end of the Gauvin's drive and cut across the grounds to the small pavilion where a frail, yet elegant, woman was waiting for him.

  'Are you sure about this?' he asked.

  Mrs Gauvin hesitated. 'You should not have come alone. My husband is unbalanced and ceased to know right from wrong years ago.'

  'So he hadn't always been delusional?'

  'My eldest son was worse. It was probably hereditary.'

  'Your youngest son?'

  'It's difficult to tell.'

  'You do know that he's hooked on wormwood concoctions spiced with other drugs, don't you?'

  'That would account for his behaviour.'

  'And that he probably poisoned your eldest son's curry with thujone?'

  Mrs Gauvin wasn't surprised. 'They did hate each other. I expected Jonah to kill Connor first.' She fastened her jacket and came down from the pavilion to lead DI Dalton across the lawn.

  'I'm glad you feel confident enough to do this,' he told her.

  'Not many people dare confront my husband in the way you did. But then, that was merely a ploy to reassure me, wasn't it?'

  'You'd hardly risk confiding in an investigator who ran away.'

  Mrs Gauvin turned to give the detective a reproachful look. 'DI Knowles had no idea of what is really going on, had he?'

  'Pity that. He's twice my size and would have dismantled the place, with or without a search warrant. Dinosaurs do have their uses.'

  'He wouldn't have found anything, even if he had managed to get past the dogs.'

  She pointed to the entrance of an ancient sunken vault overhung by the branches of a Lebanon cedar. A padlock secured its wrought iron gate.

  'You will need bolt cutters.'

  'A puny mortal like me can barely handle nail clippers.' The detective took out his lock picks.

  'Whatever you do, be quick. My husband might not be up yet, but if he does find either of us here he will shoot us.'

  DI Dalton easily removed the padlock on the gate, but the heavy metal door beyond it required an authorised fingerprint. Mrs Gauvin watched in bemused surprise as he took a small pad of foam from an inside pocket and pressed it against the security scanner.

  He gave a boyish smile. 'Discovered who installed your husband's security. It's baffling why a locksmith would believe it safe to back up his accounts on the Cloud.' With a low whirr the door of the vault yawned opened. 'Now please go to my car and wait there. It's parked at the far end of the drive.'

  'I cannot leave you here by yourself. You must call for backup.'

  'It's all right. I'm not what you think I am.'

  'I think that you are a small, very intelligent man with no sense of danger or bullet-proof vest.'

  'Nasty things. They ruin the line of your suit. This won't take a moment.'

  Mrs Gauvin peered inside the vault. She had always been aware of what was stored beneath the house, though had never set eyes on it. Now she could see shelves of enough ordnance to supply the small army which the ringleaders of her husband's faction were preparing to mobilise. 'This group are very dangerous men. Jonah was a mere cog fronting the organisation that threatens the security of this country, while my husband dwindled into a witless puppet of the monster he had created.'

  'That's why I'm here.'

  'Just you? I don't understand?'

  'I removed a list of the ringleaders' phone numbers from inside the ceramic of Kali when I examined her. I'm very good at picking pockets as well.'

  Mrs Gauvin caught her breath. 'How did you know he kept one there?'

  'Fortuitousness. It was also a hunch triggered by a guilty man's body language when I approached her. Even an unbalanced conspirator would know better than to save information like that on an electronic file, and he sincerely believed that this deity would safeguard it. The borderline insane are often persuaded that the world shares their delusions. I don't miss much.' The detective glanced up at the small light flashing above him. 'I did miss that, however.'

  'He must know we're here! We have to leave immediately!'

  'Just coming.' DI Dalton quickly took several snaps with his smartphone of the vault interior and pulled the door to. It locked with a click and he replaced the padlock on the outer gate. 'You'll have to come with me. It's obvious you aren't safe.'

  Mrs Gauvin was following him to the car when a penetrating voice cut through the early morning air. 'Mummy! Mummy! What are you doing out here? Daddy wants to know where you are!'

  'Please be quiet Connor!'

  But the young man was still addled by the experimental toxins of the previous night and didn't register the urgency in her tone.

  Then there was the desperate voice of Cameron, the butler, remonstrating with Fitzroy Gauvin as he stormed from the house.

  Connor was confused. 'Oh look, here comes Daddy now. Why's he carrying that shotgun?'


  It was too late to run. Gauvin had his wife and the detective in range and could have easily gunned down both of them.

  DI Dalton placed himself in front of Mrs Gauvin and Connor became hysterical as the seriousness of the situation overwhelmed the effects of the drugs.

  'I think Daddy's very angry, Mummy! What have you been doing? You aren't really going to shoot Mummy, are you Daddy?'

  'I should have known no copper could be as stupid as you?' bellowed Gauvin. 'Who sent you? Special Branch? Fat lot of good that will do when we've taken out the major institutions! Then the country will dance to our tune! Too many people are on our side for you to do anything about it now!'

  'We know the ringleaders, Mr Gauvin. Shooting me or your wife will not alter that.'

  'Please Sir!' Cameron called from a safe distance. 'Please think about what you are doing!' When it was obvious that wasn't going to happen, he took a mobile from his pocket and dialled. 'Try not to move, Mrs Gauvin! I'm calling for help!'

  Fitzroy Gauvin's tumultuous thoughts made him deaf to the entreaties of his butler, screeching of his son, and slam of a car door a short distance away. He was only aware of the insolent non-entity who had sent his aspirations of so many years plummeting into the abyss of lost causes.

  DI Dalton could see the man's world crashing about him. Then, before commonsense was able to stop him, that demon in his soul taunted, 'Forget Kali! This small god has got your numbers! All of them!'

  There was a report from the shotgun.

  Its cartridge struck DI Dalton with a sickeningly hollow thud and lifted the small man like a paper bag snatched up by a gust of wind.

  As Gauvin discharged the second barrel a large figure came between them and took the full force of the blast.

  The wind knocked out of him, PS Harris looked