Restless Dead (Harry Grimm Book 5) by David Gatward (best love novels of all time .txt) 📕

Sergeant Dinsdale,’ Matt said, introducing himself to the woman in front of them. ‘This is Detective Chief Inspector Grimm. Usually, one of our PCSOs would be out to see you, but you know how it is in the dales; everyone mucks in!’

The woman was obviously listening to Matt but was staring at Harry.

‘Can we come in, please?’ Harry asked, keen to avoid a conversation about the scarring on his face. It didn’t bother him, it was just a little tedious having to explain it every time someone asked about it.

‘Yes, of course,’ the woman said, then held out a hand. ‘I’m Patricia Hurst, James’ daughter. I’m sorry, but I’m sure this is a complete waste of your time.’

‘No such thing,’ Harry said, attempting a smile. ‘Well, there is, but I doubt this is it.’

Patricia stepped back into the house, gesturing to Harry for him and Matt to follow her inside.

‘As I said, I tried to persuade him not to call you,’ Patricia said. ‘He’s really not been himself at all since the accident. Which I know is hardly a surprise, is it? But still, calling the police? It’s just not necessary, is it? You have other things to be dealing with, not the hallucinations of a grieving old man who’s probably had rather too much to drink.’

‘I heard that, Pat,’ said another voice, as an older man now approached them from down the hall, stepping through patches of light splashed across the walls and floor from various lamps, as though using them as stepping stones. He was leaning on a stick, too, Harry noticed.

‘Mr Fletcher?’ Harry said.

The man reached out a hand and Harry reciprocated, shaking it firmly. ‘James, please,’ he said. ‘It’s kind of you to come out. And I’m not drunk, and I know what I saw. I’m not making it up.’

Harry said, ‘First of all, I, and Detective Sergeant Dinsdale here, would like to offer you our deepest condolences. What happened, well, it was really terrible. And if there’s anything we can do to help, you let us know.’

‘Thank you,’ James said. ‘Yes, it’s been an awful week so far, I must say. I should have been the one driving, you know. It’s terrible, really.’

‘Well, perhaps it’s best if we can sit down and have a chat somewhere?’ Harry said. ‘Detective Sergeant Dinsdale here will go for a walk around the property while we do, just in case whoever it is that you saw is still out there.’

‘Well, that’s not likely, is it?’ Patricia said, her voice barely audible.

‘Right, I’ll be back in a few minutes,’ Matt said and headed back out into the night.

‘A chat then,’ James said. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

‘No, I’ll do that, Dad,’ Patricia said. ‘Why don’t you go through to the lounge? It’s much more comfortable through there.’

‘If you insist,’ James said.

‘I do,’ Patricia replied, then turned on her heels.

‘She means well,’ said James, leading Harry deeper into the house. ‘But she can be a little spiky, if you know what I mean.’

In the lounge, Harry waited for James to sit before he did so himself, then gave the man some time to gather himself. It didn’t strike him as entirely sensitive to start questioning straight away, not after what had happened earlier in the week. However, as the silence in the room grew, Harry decided it was probably best to at least break the ice and get some form of conversation going. And from that, hopefully, Mr Fletcher would tell him what he had seen that had caused him to call the police.

Harry said, ‘I understand you’re a retired colonel.’

‘Army through and through,’ James said. ‘Saw a lot of changes, out in theatre a few times, ended up running the whole training of new recruits thing. Yourself?’

‘Paras,’ Harry said. ‘Good times.’

‘They were that.’ James smiled.

‘Nice place you’ve got here,’ Harry said, gazing at the room they were now sitting in. In many ways, it was much like any other lounge, with sofas and a fireplace and cupboards, with photos and paintings decorating the walls, but it was the windows that drew Harry’s attention. It was the largest he’d ever seen outside of a stately home. It was split into three clear sections, and the glazing stretched up to the high ceiling, providing, he was sure, a quite spectacular view of the countryside beyond on a clear day.

‘We were very lucky to be able to afford it,’ James said. ‘Helen, she loved it here. The garden was hers, really. I didn’t have much to do with it. Though I’ve got into growing vegetables now that I’m retired, which is rather fun. Flowers, though? All that pretty stuff? I haven’t a clue.’

‘I grow a bit of my own, too,’ Matt said, coming into the room to join them.

‘Find anything?’ Harry asked, knowing what Matt’s answer was going to be.

‘Well, if there was someone out there, then they’ve shoved off,’ Matt said. ‘I had a good look around, like, and I noticed that there’s a footpath runs out back, am I right? Not on your land, but across the fields?’

‘That’s true,’ James said. ‘And the Pennine Way is out there, too.’

‘Could’ve been a hiker,’ Matt suggested. ‘Out on a night walk or something.’

Harry looked at James and saw that there was no response to what Matt had said.

Matt sat down next to Harry. ‘The garden’s wonderful, Mr Fletcher. Would love to see it during the day. Always struck me as a waste of a garden to not use it to grow something you could eat.’

At this, Harry saw James sparkle just a little.

‘Gives you a great excuse to have a shed as well, doesn’t it?’ James said. ‘I never really saw the attraction, probably because I was always too busy, but when I got one, I sort of fell in love with it.’

‘It’s the smells I love,’ Matt said. ‘That mix of compost and fresh air and oil for the mower, that kind of thing.’

‘I’ve a little stove in mine,’ James said.

‘A stove?