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

‘Negative. The divers have searched around where Holgate’s body was found. Apparently they expected to find it and were disappointed not to, given that it was a small area and close to the edge of the water. I suppose it could have sunk in the mud or been carried away by a current. No sign of his phone either.’

‘Mmm. The more I hear, the more I’m sure we need to press on with this. I’ve got my other detective sergeant to go to London and investigate this group and Steph is going to look into Withington’s activities in Leeds. She’s also going to speak to Louise and see if anything emerges.’

Granger nodded. ‘Understood, sir. Sounds like there’s going to be more going on elsewhere than here.’

‘Maybe, but we can have another look at all the evidence we have and . . .’ A thought suddenly struck Oldroyd. ‘By the way, who gave the information about the escape room owner and his office in Sheffield?’

‘It was in DC Hampton’s report; hold on, I’ll call him.’ Granger took up her phone and spoke to Hampton. Then she turned to Oldroyd. ‘He said it was the escape room assistant Elaine Pesku who gave him that information.’

‘Sounds like she was mistaken or lying. It seems we’re starting to uncover some promising leads. I’ll leave you to question those two again.’ He stood up and smiled. ‘I’ve got something else on this afternoon.’

Steph arranged to see a detective at the Leeds HQ about Ian Withington’s business activities in the city. They met in an office in the new premises on Elland Road near the famous Leeds United football ground. He brought a file with him, which he consulted as he spoke to Steph.

‘Yes, Withington, I remember him. There were numerous complaints of dubious activities and he was interviewed a number of times but we could never pin anything on him. He was a crafty sod, but we made it uncomfortable for him. Eventually he cleared off. And you say he’s now in Whitby?’

‘Yes, he has a jewellery business specialising in Whitby jet.’

The detective smiled. ‘Does he now? Well, I’d keep a watch on him if I were you.’

‘What kind of allegations were made against him?’

‘Oh, the usual: lying about the amount of precious metals like gold that were in second-hand items of jewellery; selling stuff that was fake. Whenever we confronted him, he was very apologetic, repaid the customer and said the items had been sold to him and he’d bought them in good faith. Of course he could never remember exactly who he’d bought things from. It was difficult to prove but it was starting to happen too often, which is when he did a runner. He’s a slippery customer and his son is the same.’

‘His son?’

‘Yes. Alan Withington. They work together – father and son; the son travels a lot. We think he gets hold of the dodgy stuff, and his dad then sells it. What’s your interest in the Withingtons, anyway?’

‘I’ve been working with the police in Whitby on a murder enquiry.’

‘You mean the one where the bloke killed his girlfriend in the escape room and then committed suicide?’

‘Yep.’

‘Where does Withington fit in?’

‘It was his niece who was killed. At the moment we don’t suspect him of being directly involved, but it seems as if his niece might have been helping him with his business somehow. It’s a loose end we want to follow up.’

‘Right. Well, it might be worth talking to one or two dealers in that street near Kirkgate Market where he had his shop. I’ll give you some names and addresses. They might be able to give you a bit more information about how he operated. There was no love lost between them; they were glad to get rid of him.’

‘Come on then, I have a surprise for you!’ Oldroyd had met up with Deborah near the swing bridge. ‘Have you got your coat, like I asked?’ He was wearing a weatherproof jacket and carried a small rucksack.

‘Yes,’ replied Deborah. ‘But where on earth are we going?’

‘Out to sea,’ said Oldroyd with some excitement. ‘It’s a fine day, but it’s always cool and breezy out there. I’ve booked us onto a cruise down to Robin Hood’s Bay in one of those boats.’ He pointed towards a number of craft moored against the sea wall on Marine Parade.

‘Fantastic, how exciting!’ said Deborah as they walked towards the Autumn Queen, a brightly painted vessel, which was already filling up with customers. People were being helped down the steps by a friendly member of the crew as the boat gently bobbed up and down in the swell.

Oldroyd and Deborah managed to get seats in the bow section against the gunwale from where they had a good view as the launch cruised gently along the smooth water in the lower harbour and through the gap between the East and West Piers, passing a small lighthouse on either side. The boat then reached open sea and turned south. Immediately it became breezy and there was a salty tang in the air. The sky was clear and the sea and the horizon very bright in the sunlight. Deborah put on some dark glasses.

‘Jim! This is wonderful!’ She gave him a dazzling smile.

‘I’m glad you’re enjoying it. We should see some interesting birdlife. Look out there: some gannets diving for fish!’ He produced a small pair of binoculars and trained them out to sea. Deborah looked in the same direction, and saw the large white birds in the distance; black tips on their pointed wings. They were circling high in the sky but, as she watched, one pulled in its wings and dropped at speed like a pointed missile into the water, its sharp beak hitting the sea first. It was a majestic sight and even more dramatic through the binoculars that Oldroyd passed to her. Herring gulls were following the boat and, as