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

‘Good. You have been busy.’

‘Thanks. Something interesting turned up there too. It seems that Garner wasn’t telling the full truth to you about what happened. Apparently Holgate initially tried to blame Garner, before Garner proved he was in the clear and it all got a bit unpleasant, though there’s no record of any physical threat. I’ve got the bloke we spoke with to email a copy of Holgate’s file to Inspector Granger.’

‘Good work again!’ said Oldroyd. ‘I wonder why he kept that from us? I suppose he thought it gave him a motive to harm Holgate.’

‘And it does, sir, though it was a while ago. It’s a bit of a stretch to think of him spending years plotting his violent revenge over a thing like that. It didn’t do him much damage, did it?’

‘No, I suppose not,’ said Oldroyd, ‘but you’ll need to follow it up with him as soon as you can.’

‘I’ll be onto it tomorrow, sir.’

‘Also, Inspector Granger has arranged for you to meet with Holgate’s father. He and his wife didn’t come up to Whitby; apparently the mother is too distraught and under sedation – not surprising. He wants to meet you at the flat his son and Andrea Barnes shared. He doesn’t want you to come to the house. That would be too distressing to his wife. Granger will text you the details and while you’re in the flat give it the once over. Officers from the Met have already been in but it won’t do any harm to have another look.’

‘Okay, sir.’

‘Good man! Bye, then.’ The call ended.

‘Jim, for your own good, you need to turn that phone off now,’ insisted Deborah firmly.

‘Yes I will.’ Oldroyd put his phone away but couldn’t resist a further comment. ‘Andy’s another one: absolutely great. Been so good since he came to us from the Met. You’re right, I’m lucky to have such a good team.’

‘Yes, there they are working away, while you enjoy yourself here,’ replied Deborah.

‘Oh, they need me to supervise them,’ said Oldroyd with a mischievous wink. ‘Anyway, talking of enjoyment, do you fancy a dessert?’

‘Jim! You’re not serious . . . After all that?’

‘Well, no, of course not,’ he replied in a tone that suggested he might well be.

That evening Andy called Steph from his mum’s house in Croydon.

‘How is everyone down there, then?’ asked Steph.

‘Fine. Mum’s in good spirits though she seems to get a bit slower every time I see her.’

‘Well, she’s not getting any younger.’

‘No. It’s good that Clare and the kids are close. She sees a lot of them and she’s dropped some hints again about us. Can she expect any more grandkids soon? And before that will she have to buy a hat for a wedding?’

Steph laughed. ‘Oh, bless! She only wants what she thinks will be good for us.’

‘Yeah. That was the way of life for her generation. Family was everything.’

‘So what did you say?’ asked Steph mischievously.

‘I just stayed non-committal as usual. It leaves her with a bit of hope without an expectation that anything’s going to happen soon.’

‘Good, well done. How’s the investigation going?’

‘Got a few leads, not that brilliant though. I got down here early afternoon and picked up the DC. It’s that bloke Jenkins again. He’s good to work with; got a good sense of humour. We went to where Jack Ryerson works and busted his account of his whereabouts on the afternoon of the murder, but it turns out he was shagging a married woman.’

‘Is that how you described it to the boss?’

Andy laughed. ‘Not in so many words. Anyway, we’ve got to check his story out, but it’s probably true. Didn’t like the bloke. Bit of an arrogant sod. Still think he could have been involved somehow. Anyway, after that we went on to St Thomas’s University and that business with the copying essays was a bit more serious than that bloke Garner was letting on, so I have to follow up on him tomorrow. How about you?’

‘We might be onto something with this jeweller, who’s obviously a crook, and his niece, that’s the woman who was murdered, was working for him in some way. So we’ll have to see where that goes.’

‘Good. Anyway, I’d better go. What’re you doing tonight?’

‘Oh, not much – might watch a film and get an early night. How about you?’

‘You’ll be pleased to know that I’m staying in with Mummy . . . and we’re going to watch EastEnders.’

‘And tomorrow?’

‘Painting the town red with Jason.’

‘I see. Do the police know this is happening?’

‘No, and anyway, they’ve got far more important things to deal with.’

‘Well, take care. You know what he’s like.’

‘You don’t need to worry. I think he’s calmed down a bit; much more serious and sober.’

Steph laughed. ‘Serious, maybe. Sober, never.’

Andy laughed too. ‘Well, we’ll see.’

The next day, Louise spent a listless morning at her mother’s house in Chapel Allerton, beginning to wonder if staying in Leeds was a good idea after all. Her mother was at work, and so she was alone in the house.

She found the quiet strangely unnerving. She tried to read but couldn’t concentrate. She sent and received texts from her friends but missed being with them. The charity had been very understanding in allowing her time off, but maybe she needed to go back to London and to work after all. What could she achieve here?

She was considering all these questions when the doorbell rang. It was Steph.

‘Oh, come in, it’s great to see you,’ said Louise as they went into the living room. ‘I was just about to make coffee.’

‘That would be great,’ said Steph with a smile. She sat on a sofa and looked at the tall and well-stacked bookshelves on either side of the fireplace while Louise made the coffee. Louise returned with a cafetière of coffee, mugs, a jug of hot milk and a plate of chocolate brownies.

‘I’m glad you’ve come around,’ said Louise. ‘Dad said you would be calling.’ She sat down and