Gardners, Ditchers, and Gravemakers (A DCI Thatcher Yorkshire Crimes Book 4) by Oliver Davies (free e books to read online TXT) 📕

“Sonia’s parents,” I pushed on quickly. “Mentioned that early on in their partnership, one of their first studies didn’t go well. They received some threats that Sonia was scared of, Abbie too, according to her sister. The study was shut down not long after.”

Lin had sat forwards again, a faint crease between her brows as she listened. “How long ago was this?”

“About eight years,” I told her. “We know that you wouldn’t have been there yourself, but I was wondering if you might have heard about it. Might know someone who was there.”

“No, no, I remember it. Vaguely. My big brother’s the one who got me into all of this,” she explained. “He told me about it. Eight years,” she slumped back, deep in thought. “He said it was a man. At the gardens, I remember it was that place. That’s why I kept an interest in it. But he said there was a man there.”

“Dr Quaid?” Mills asked. Lin shook her head.

“No. Hang on.” She held up a hand and pulled out her phone, clicking her tongue as she pressed a number and held it to her ear. “Wen? Hey, hi. I have a question. Do you remember that first protest you took me to? The one at the botanical place?” She listened for a moment and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, that one. What was the name of the guy? Kask.” She looked to Mills and me, and the sergeant quickly pulled out his notebook, scribbling down the name. “Toomas Kask. Cool. Because I’m looking into it, that’s why. No, I know. I will. Okay, bye.” She hung up and put her phone down on the sofa beside her. “Toomas Kask, that was him.”

“He was part of the study?” I asked. The name wasn’t familiar, not anyone we had met or heard about from the gardens.

“I think so,” she muttered. “I definitely don’t remember hearing about Abbie Whelan back then. It was a few years before I got wind of her.”

“Do you remember what exactly it was about the study that made you all protest?”

Lin chewed her lip and shook her head. “Not really. Probably just the usual stuff, though, you know.”

“That’s alright,” I told her. “Thank you for this, Miss Shui. You have been a tremendous help.”

“Happy to help change the reputation of my people,” she said happily. “And also, you know. Help bring about justice and all that.” I grinned and rose from the sofa, Mills beside me.

“See you around, Miss Shui.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a tattoo before you go?” She called as we made our way to the door. “I can give you mate’s rates!”

“Already got one!” I called back, ushering Mills through the door. He stood in the street then, staring at me with wide eyes. “Toomas Kask,” I murmured, “I suppose we should try to find him.”

Mills wasn’t listening. He just continued to stare at me as I turned and walked back up the street.

“You already have one?” He asked. “Where is it? What is it?”

I waved a hand at him to stop his badgering. “Toomas Kask first, and we can share regretful teenage tattoo stories some other time.”

Sixteen

Thatcher

Toomas Kask, it turned out, was in our records too. Several speeding fines over the years, one as recently as three weeks ago, meant it wasn’t hard for us to track him down. His current address was out in the moors, almost an hour’s drive from the city, in a remote little village not unlike the one I had grown up in. His fines had all been paid, and he’d even gone on a speed awareness course, but currently, his reckless attitude towards driving was in our favour, and with his address in hand, we were ready to go.

As I left the office, Mills having run to the bathroom before we left, Sharp intercepted me in the hallway.

“A new lead?”

“An old research partner of Abbie and Sonia,” I told her. “We think he would have been around during those earlier years, maybe knows something about the study that got shut down and the threats they received.”

Sharp folded her arms, looking me over with narrowed eyes. “Why not speak to Dr Quaid?”

“If a research project of his was receiving bad light, I doubt he’d be the one to dredge it up again. Especially with the clarity that we’d like.”

“Fair enough. You’re off there now?” She asked.

“Place out in the moors,” I told her, showing her the address. “We’ll be a few hours, if that’s fine.”

She nodded. “No problem.”

I folded the paper back over and looked at her. She still regarded me with a wary sort of expression, and I wondered if it had anything to do with her chat with Mills earlier.

“What is it?” I asked. “Do I have something in my teeth?” My question startled her from her quiet observations, and she shook her head with a smile.

“No, sorry. In my own little world. Let me know when you get back,” she added, nodding to Mills, who appeared around the corner.

“Will do, ma’am.” Sharp strode away then, her arms still folded together, and I watched her walk away with a frown on my face.

“Everything alright, sir?” Mills asked.

“It’s probably nothing,” I answered. “Let’s get on the road. I’d like to be back for lunch.”

As we headed down the stairs, out towards the car park, I couldn’t quite shake Sharp’s face from my mind, and then it hit me. It was eerily similar to the expression that Lena had worn the other day, asking me about how I was doing, asking me about August. I sighed, unlocking my car and hoisting myself into the driver’s seat. I should have seen it sooner, really. Every year, it was the two of them, like clockwork. I wasn’t surprised that Sharp would have mentioned something about it to Mills, though I was grateful he’d kept quiet. As I turned the engine on, I grit my teeth together. It would get worse