The line went dead.
Harry stood for what seemed like an eternity, his phone till clamped to his ear, hand gripping it hard. He was staring off into nothing, rage flooding though him like fire through a tinder dry forest.
‘Harry?’
The voice registered somewhere in Harry’s mind, but he couldn’t quite place it, his mind unable to break itself free from what Ben had told him.
‘Harry!’
Someone was shaking him. Harry didn’t like being shaken.
‘What?’
The word came out not as a question but a threat as he turned to face whoever it was trying to butt into his day.
‘Matt?’
‘You alright, Boss?’
‘I’m not your boss.’
The man standing in front of Harry was Detective Sergeant Matt Dinsdale. He was around the same age as Harry, at least that’s what Harry assumed, because Matt’s age seemed to be a mystery to everyone. Matt also had the habit of being always just a little bit too cheerful. Not in an annoying way, more that it was just a part of who and what he was. He was the kind of man, Harry had realised over the past few weeks, who didn’t so much see life as a glass half full, but one filled right to the top. He had only recently qualified as a detective, which was pretty late in his career, Harry had thought, not that Matt seemed to care about such a thing.
Matt shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and stepped back. ‘Anything I can do?’
‘No,’ Harry said. ‘Look, I need to make another phone call, okay? I’ll see you inside.’
Matt raised an eyebrow then gave a nod. ‘I’ll get the kettle on, if you’re sure, that is, that I can’t help?’
‘I am,’ Harry said, seeing that Matt was being absolutely genuine, but then that was a trait he’d noticed in nearly everyone he’d met since coming north. They were who they were, no disguises. ‘You do that and I’ll be over in a bit.’
‘I think we’re good for biscuits but if we’re not I’ll nip out and get some,’ Matt said. ‘And cake. Can never have too much.’
Matt made to head off to the community office but turned back one last time. ‘And you’re that sure you’re okay?’
Harry relaxed his face, gave a nod.
‘See you in a bit, then.’
With Matt gone, Harry opened the contacts folder on his phone and punched in a number. His call was answered in just over three rings.
‘DCI Grimm,’ the voice said.
‘Ma’am,’ Harry said.
On the other end of the call, Detective Superintendent Alice Firbank, who was responsible for sending Harry north in the first place, fell quiet, her silence enough of a request for Harry to explain why he had interrupted her day so early.
‘Ben called me,’ Harry said.
‘I’m glad to hear that he’s communicating,’ the DSI said. ‘A very good sign indeed.’
‘That’s not what I mean,’ Harry said. ‘He’s in danger. You need to get him out of there. Now.’
The DSI coughed the smallest of disbelieving laughs. ‘Well of course, Harry,’ she said. ‘I can do that now. We have so many free beds in prisons, as I’m sure you know, so it shouldn’t be a problem to move him at all.’
‘I’m serious!’ Harry snapped back. ‘It’s my dad. He contacted Ben. Threatened him.’
Further silence.
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘Are you certain that’s what happened? Ben is in prison, Harry. There is no way your father can even know where he is, never mind contact him.’
Harry breathed deep, an attempt at working to keep his voice calm and measured despite the storm raging inside.
‘He said that it came through one of the other prisoners, the message from dad, I mean.’
‘Message?’
‘A warning,’ Harry said. ‘For me to back off.’
Harry was pretty sure he heard the DSI shake her head.
‘This sounds to me like a call for help, Harry. One that you absolutely can’t answer.’
‘He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t making it up. He’s terrified, Ma’am.’
‘You’ve no proof,’ the DSI said. ‘Just the word of your brother. And he’s in prison!’
‘He knew about why you sent me up here,’ Harry said then. ‘The two blokes in the van. Confidential information. The case isn’t even at court yet!’
‘Shit . . .’
‘Yeah,’ Harry said. ‘That.’
For a moment, neither Harry nor his DSI spoke.
‘Leave this with me,’ Firbank said. ‘I’m on it now.’
‘I’m on my way,’ Harry replied. ‘I’ll let you know when I’m back.’
‘You’ll do nothing of the sort!’
The DSI’s voice was sharp.
‘Ma’am . . .’ Harry growled, but Firbank was clearly having none of it.
‘You have a job to do, Harry,’ she said. ‘You cannot, and you absolutely will not, just bugger off at a whim to do whatever you want! And that means you will not be on your way back here, in any way, shape, or form! Do I make myself clear?’
‘He’s my brother!’ Harry hurled back, his voice rising now, rough anger rolling out with his words. ‘If anyone touches him . . .’
‘I said do I make myself clear?’ the DSI snapped back.
Harry took the deepest of breaths and muttered, ‘Yes, Ma’am. You do.’
‘I will deal with this,’ the DSI explained, her voice hard and unwavering, ‘so wind your neck in, Grimm! And I’d advise you against making those kinds of threats.’
‘You can’t keep me up here,’ Harry said. ‘I need to be there, to be near my brother. I have to be!’
‘No, you do not,’ the DSI said, her voice switching from angry to calm in a beat. ‘I am on this as a priority. You travelling down here will do nothing. The very best thing you can do is to get on with doing what you are there to do.’
‘I’m not needed . . .’
‘Damn it, Harry, you’re a DCI! Bloody well act like one!’
Harry took a deep breath and massaged his temples with his left hand. ‘I’ll call in a few hours,’ he said.
‘No, you won’t,’ the DSI replied. ‘You will focus on your job and I will do mine. Understand?’
Harry mumbled a ‘Yes’.
‘Good,’ the DSI said, and the line went dead.
Harry
