‘Anyway,’ Harry said, now back on with the rest of the crowd, ‘I’ve just been on the phone with Detective Super Intendent Swift and he will be here within the hour to give a statement and answer your questions. Until then, can I ask that you give myself and my team the space we need to get on with our jobs? Thank you!’
Harry was about to climb down when Askew piped up again.
‘Can you confirm that the victims went to school together, Detective? Right here in Hawes, as a matter of fact?’
The words cut into Harry like shrapnel and it was all he could do to not grab a hold of Askew and introduce him to the loud end of a really good slap.
‘Were you not listening?’ Harry asked. ‘Or is it deliberate? I mean, do you act like an idiot and hope I’ll take pity on you and answer your questions, is that it?’
‘So they did,’ Askew said.
Harry leaned in, making full use of his size, but more of his ruined face, to add to his menace.
‘The DSI will be here soon enough to answer your questions. I suggest that you wait until then to ask any more.’
Then, without another word, Harry pushed on through and over to the Community Office, crashing through the doors and into the office to find the rest of the team.
‘Bollocks!’ Harry roared, as the door crashed shut behind him. ‘Absolute bloody arse bollocks!’
Matt stood up and met Harry halfway. Liz and Jenny remained seated.
‘They just turned up,’ Matt said. ‘Word’s got around about what’s happened. That’s just the way it is around here. And with La’ll Nick involved, it’s got around even quicker. Everyone will be talking about it now. And by everyone I mean literally everyone. Knock on any door right now, and it’ll be the topic of conversation, for sure.’
‘What’s this about the victims being at school together?’ Harry asked. ‘And how is it I’m hearing it first from that streak of piss Askew and not from you lot?’
Harry watched as Matt composed himself.
‘They were at Hawes Primary School together,’ Matt then explained. ‘Names around here, they don’t get forgotten. They just sort of keep on rolling. Again, that’s not exactly going to help with keeping it all quiet.’
‘But how did that information get out?’ Harry asked.
‘I don’t think it did,’ Matt said. ‘It was just there. People hear the name, they remember stuff, and there we go.’
Harry slumped down into a chair as Jim entered the room.
‘Don’t think they’ve seen anything like that before,’ Jim said, then turned to the others and explained what Harry had just done. ‘And that Askew bloke, how is it that he knows so much? He’s not even with one of the main papers, is he? He’s just local!’
Harry took a deep breath, sucking in as much calm as he could.
‘Swift’s on his way,’ he said. ‘He can deal with them from now on. As for us, here and now? I want to know everything about the victims. And I mean everything. They went to school together, but so what? Something else connects them. School isn’t enough. I want to know what they had for breakfast, their favourite magazine, who their friends are, if they’re allergic to dogs, if they buy Lottery tickets, everything!’
‘On it, Boss,’ Matt said, then added, ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Harry was sitting in a chair, which was far too small for him, in a tiny waiting room decorated with some very colourful and unique pieces of artwork by various artists he had never heard of, including, Emma S, age 7, (A Dinosaur That Is Big), John G (My Mum Is Smiling), Tom S (Our New Puppy Called Sammy), and Nicola B (The Night Sky At Night). He had been sitting there for fifteen minutes, his backside becoming increasingly numb, waiting for the head teacher to come and speak with him. It was four thirty in the afternoon, school was over, and Harry was having flashbacks to his own childhood. He’d spent rather too much time waiting for the headteacher to talk to him thanks to a habit of not just getting into fights, but of starting them. The rest of the team were sifting through any and all information they could find on the two victims, with another round of door knocking in Oughtershaw, and a number of uniformed officers doing the same in Richmond around the residence of Mr Hutchison. And DSI Swift was now dealing with the press, and growing increasingly sweaty and red in the face while doing it. Forensics were also at Hutchison’s house, searching the place for anything that would give an idea as to how he had got from his home to a slurry pit in Widdale.
A door to Harry’s left opened and out walked a woman wearing a genuine smile and the shiniest red shoes Harry had ever seen.
‘Mr Grimm,’ she said, and Harry rose to his feet, momentarily stuck in the chair and having to prise himself out of it. ‘I’m Jennifer Alderson.’
‘Yes, hello,’ Harry said. ‘Thank you for seeing me.’
‘It’s not a problem, especially under the circumstances,’ the head teacher replied. ‘Come in, won’t you?’
Harry followed the woman back through the door, which she eased shut behind him, before inviting him to sit in a chair on the nearside of a large desk. She made her way to the other side and sat down.
‘Would you like a coffee?’
Harry shook his head. He was already somewhat wired thanks to the amount of tea he’d drunk that day thanks in the main to the monstrous mug from Matt.
‘Water will be just fine, thank you.’
The head teacher poured him a glass from a jug on her desk.
‘So,’ she said, relaxing back into her chair, ‘how can I help?’
‘I don’t know if you can,’ Harry said, ‘and to be honest, this is a bit of a long shot, but you never know, right?’
The head teacher said nothing, clearly waiting for Harry to
