The Whitby Murders (A Yorkshire Murder Mystery) J. Ellis (distant reading TXT) 📖

sell it.’ He sighed. ‘I wish they bloody well had come up here. We could have watched them more closely.’

Which is probably why they didn’t, thought Granger.

‘To your knowledge, did either of them have any enemies?’

‘Our Andrea?’ said Barnes. ‘No, everybody liked our Andrea. She was . . .’ He didn’t finish the sentence and his eyes had a faraway look. The reality of what had happened was still too painful to contemplate. Granger decided it wasn’t fair to keep them long. They could speak to them again later if necessary.

‘Well, thank you for coming in,’ Granger said. ‘If you think of anything else about your daughter and Holgate, let me know. It could be important. We’ll release your daughter’s body to you as soon as we can so you can arrange the funeral.’

At this Mrs Barnes started sobbing again.

‘Yes, we’ll get her away from here all right,’ her husband continued in a tone of desperation. ‘I’ve always hated this place. Your damn brother doesn’t make it any better.’

Mrs Barnes looked up. ‘There’s no point blaming Ian for anything, Fred. He’s got nothing to do with it.’

‘Who are you talking about?’ enquired Granger gently.

‘My brother-in-law, Ian Withington. He has a jeweller’s shop down on Church Street. He used to have one in Leeds but he had to leave because he was on the fiddle. He’s a rogue; always on the make. He got my mother-in-law to change her will so he got most of the money.’

‘Fred, please!’

‘What happened?’ asked Granger. She felt the need to ask about this even though it was unlikely to have any bearing on the case.

‘She was losing it, poor woman, and he went round to her house telling her this and that, and before long she’d signed documents leaving the house to him and some of her cash. He told her his business was in trouble and that Joyce and I were okay financially, that kind of stuff. He’s a sneaky bugger.’

‘I see.’

‘You didn’t like the fact that our Andrea liked visiting here and she always went to see her uncle,’ said Mrs Barnes in a weak and faltering voice.

‘No, I didn’t. When she wasn’t in London she was always over here or in her flat in Headingley. We hardly saw her.’

‘Was it your sister that left her the flat?’

‘Yes, Caroline. She was arty like Andrea; never married. Those two got on really well. She did well for Andrea in the end. It compensated a bit for Ian’s rotten tricks.’

‘Yes.’ Granger felt she couldn’t take much more of this tragic couple. They seemed to have lost their daughter long before she actually died.

Granger was about to bring the interview to an end when Mrs Barnes said, ‘You see, Andrea always liked that Whitby jet that Ian dealt in. She had a few pieces of that.’ The memory triggered yet more tears.

‘I see,’ replied Granger, finding it difficult to think of what to say. It was quite a relief when they finally left.

Later that evening back at home, Granger was trying to relax. It was Friday evening, but a serious case like this went on continuously until it was solved. She would have to go into work at some point during the weekend.

She was watching television with Ian when Lesley came into the room. She was dressed in all her goth gear with purple lipstick and heavy black mascara. She wore a short black skirt, laddered fishnet tights, a tattered black coat and black boots.

‘God, you look disgusting!’ said Ian.

‘That’s the general idea,’ replied Lesley, adding some finishing touches as she looked in a mirror.

‘Before you go,’ said Granger. ‘I want to ask you something.’

‘What? I’ve got to go soon.’

‘What do you know about escape rooms?’

‘Escape rooms? Oh, I forgot; you’re investigating that murder, aren’t you? Bloody creepy, that is. Bloke kills his girlfriend in Dracula’s Lair in Goth Week. Was it a publicity stunt?’

‘Unfortunately not. Have you been in one of those rooms?’

‘Just one; a lot of them are over-eighteen and they ID. They’re cool. It’s a laugh. You need a good team to win against the clock though. We didn’t.’

‘Do you know anything about this one? Dracula’s Lair?’

‘I know someone who did it. Said it was good. He said there was a funny woman running it who sounded as if she actually was from Transylvania and they have this actor playing Dracula who pursues you through the rooms. It sounds amazing. I’ll bet they were doing a good trade at this time of year until that happened. Anyway, have to be off.’

‘Back at half eleven,’ said Granger. She didn’t even bother to comment on her daughter’s appearance.

‘Okay,’ replied Lesley wearily, before leaving the house.

Granger turned to Ian. ‘Are you interested in goth stuff?’

Ian laughed. ‘Me? No way. It’s for losers: dressing up like something from a horror film.’

‘You’d rather be in football kit, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yeah, ’course, any day.’

Granger smiled. Ian was far more predictable and easier to handle, but he was only fifteen. There was still time for things to change.

The next morning, Oldroyd, Steph and Louise stood outside the grand three-storey mid-Victorian stone-built house in a quiet area off the busy Headingley Lane in Leeds. The pavements were thick with leaves shed by the huge sycamores and beeches that lined the avenue. At the top of the street large trees could be seen on Woodhouse Ridge.

‘It’s that one on the first floor.’ Louise pointed up to a window where the curtains were closed. Louise had visited Andrea there a few times.

Using the key from Andrea’s bag, Oldroyd opened the external door and they entered a tiled hallway. He collected the post for Flat 2 and they went up a wide staircase. Louise felt dreadful. This was the second time she’d had to go into Andrea’s private living spaces and experience the terrible quiet left by the missing person. Her legs felt weak and she stumbled on the stair. Steph helped her up.

Oldroyd unlocked the door. The interior of the flat was impressive,