Best Served Cold: A DCI Harry Grimm Novel

a statement from someone who had been at the school at the same time as John Capstick and the others. They’d managed to take dozens of statements over the course of the day, not just from those who were in the same class as the deceased, but from other years in the school as well. The rest of the team were out and about. Matt was still up in Marsett, having headed up to be Scene Guard with Jim. Gordy was at the scene as well. She had managed to get a dog team in and, with Jaydn and a number of other uniformed officers that she had called in, was doing a search of the surrounding area to try and find something, anything, that would help. Harry didn’t exactly rate their chances, but it was worth a go. Jim and Liz were doing their level best to show a bit of police presence in town, doing a walk around and a nice bit of face-to-face chit chat with the locals, trying to ensure that everyone felt safe and that they could go about their everyday lives without worrying about being the next victim of whoever was out there gradually killing their way through the members of a late seventies gang of children.

‘Folk are getting jumpy,’ Dave said, grabbing a seat. ‘Can’t blame them, either. All sounds pretty terrible, like. What makes you want to a job like this, then?’

‘It’s a long story,’ Harry said, as a hard knock hammered at the door and in walked two men with gun bags hung from their shoulders.

‘Right, who’s in charge, then?’

The question was from the one on the left, the older of the two at around sixty, Harry guessed. He was wearing green boots and a blue boiler suit covered in oil stains. And on his head was a flat cap defying all physical laws by managing to somehow cling on at an impossible angle.

‘I am,’ Harry said, his eyes on the gun bags. ‘Can I help?’

‘It’s the other way round,’ the old man said. ‘We’ve come to ask you the same thing.’

The younger of the two stepped forward then. He was dressed in exactly the same clothes as the older man, except that his boots were black and instead of a flat cap he was wearing a bright red wooly hat.

‘Me and my dad,’ he said, ‘we’ve been talking with folk down at the pub, like. Reckon we can help. There’s a few others who are keen as well, you know, to do the right thing.’

‘Help?’ Harry said. ‘With what?’

‘The murderer!’ the old man said. ‘We reckon you need a hand and people need to feel safe, like, in their own homes, don’t they? So we thought we might just drive around a bit, see if we spot anything, that kind of thing.’

Harry’s eyes were still on the gun cases. ‘That’s a very kind offer,’ he said, ‘but this is a police matter. The best thing you can do is to leave us to do what we’re paid to do.’

‘But there’s not many of you, now, is there?’ the younger man stated. ‘A few of us can be out patrolling, like. It’s no bother.’

Harry remembered then what Matt had told him about people panicking. For some it had clearly upped a gear into getting a posse together.

‘I understand that,’ Harry said, doing his best to sound calm, ‘but we can’t have people taking the law into their own hands. I hope you can understand that.’

‘All I can understand is that we’ve got a psycho out there,’ the old man said, raising his voice, ‘and you buggers haven’t caught him yet!’

Harry went to speak, but another voice joined in.

‘Come on now, Eric,’ Dave said, rising to his feet to stand beside Harry. ‘You need to be sensible. I don’t think we need you or anyone else driving around looking to take a pot shot at someone with that, do you?’

Dave pointed at the gun bag on the older man’s shoulder.

‘This is just for show,’ the older man replied.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Dave said. ‘Police work is best left to the police.’ He then looked at the younger man. ‘Reckon you should take your dad home, Danny, before he does himself or anyone else a mischief.’

The younger man bristled a little at Dave’s words.

‘Who are you to be telling us what to do, eh?’

Dave, Harry noticed then, seemed to grow in size, as he stepped forward just enough to force the other two men to take a step back.

‘A friend,’ Dave said. ‘As you well know, isn’t that right, Eric?’

Harry watched Eric give the faintest of nods.

‘Good, now be on your way, then,’ Dave said. ‘And leave the nice policeman here to do his job.’

The two men paused for a moment then turned back to the door. As they reached it, Dave called out, ‘Best you let everyone else know that the police don’t need any help, okay?’

The two men nodded, then were gone.

Harry sucked in a deep breath and let out a long, thankful sigh.

‘Can’t say I was expecting that,’ he said.

‘Their hearts are in the right place,’ Dave said.

‘I don’t doubt it,’ Harry agreed.

‘Now then,’ Dave said, ‘about this long story you mentioned. Just how long is it, then?’

Harry laughed. ‘You don’t want to know.’

‘I measure time in pints,’ Dave said. ‘Are we talking just one or two, or six plus?’

‘Oh, definitely six plus,’ Harry said. ‘Possibly even ten.’

‘Right, well then, when I’m back, we’ll go out and have a good old chinwag, how’s that sound?’

‘It sounds great,’ Harry said, as Jenny finished off her interview. ‘Just out of interest, how local are you, Dave?’

‘Local enough, but not too much,’ Dave replied. ‘I was born over in Middleham. You been over that way yet? You should pop down if you’ve not. It’s a smashing place. Even has its own castle if you like that sort of thing. And horses. Lots and lots of horses. Why do you ask?’

‘Something happened at the school in