By late afternoon, the howling winds and driving rain which had ravaged the dale all morning had given way to apologetic sunshine and an appeasing breeze. Standing by the gate which separated Ellershaw Farm from the Dinsdale property, Gareth Towler was appreciating the view. The same view he’d spent time admiring only the day before and yet it looked so different. So much more intense. The green of the sloping fields was positively flamboyant, the grass wearing its glittering water droplets like rhinestones, while the newly swollen beck had dropped its song from soprano to a sonorous baritone as it rumbled over rocks. And further up the fellside, carrying over it all, was the trilling of a lark, as though in joyful salute to the abrupt cessation of the inclement weather.
It was one of the things Gareth loved about the place where he’d been lucky enough to be born and raised. No two days were the same, the scenery changing in relation to the seasons and even to the elements.
But while his surroundings were sufficient to soothe the soul, the reason which had brought him there was far from serene. A dead man, and a friend about to be charged with murder.
Gareth turned from the vista and back towards the group gathered around the edges of the pond on Will Metcalfe’s land. Herriot was looking concerned, Sarah Mitchell was crouched by the water, frowning, Bounty was nose-down investigating some rocks and Sergeant Grewal . . .
Standing to one side, watching Sarah with that characteristic sharp expression, the wildlife officer was hard to gauge. She’d called Gareth that morning to say she wanted another look at the site where they’d seen the great crested newt and asked him to smooth the way with Alison Metcalfe. So he’d invited her along to join them while Sarah conducted an unofficial second survey at Delilah’s request. But if he’d expected their interaction of the day before to take the chill off his relationship with Sergeant Grewal, he was mistaken – she’d been just as brusque with him in their few exchanges so far. Although Bounty was getting the benefit of extra affection, a couple of dog treats having already been offered and accepted between the two of them.
If the sergeant was still proving to be a closed book, however, Sarah Mitchell was like a woman transformed. To be fair, Gareth didn’t know her that well, the ecologist having only arrived in the area in the last couple of years, but in what little he had seen of her, she’d come across as painfully shy. To the point of barely speaking at times. Today, in her element, she was confident, professional and undeniably passionate about her job.
They’d set out from the Metcalfe farmhouse, walking down towards the beck, intending to enter Dinsdale’s field where the camping pods would be situated so Sarah could have a proper look around. But before they’d even reached the gate at the edge of Will’s land, she’d been striding towards the pond and had spent the intervening time inspecting it, gently lifting foliage at the edges, taking photos and making notes, all the while carrying out a muttered conversation with herself.
She stood back up, now, hands on her hips, something obviously perturbing her. ‘You’re sure Kevin Dinsdale was going to be given the all clear by Ross Irwin?’ she asked, addressing her question to the sergeant.
‘That’s what DS Benson said. Apparently, Irwin provided Dinsdale with an advance copy of the report to set his mind at rest.’
‘Hmmm.’ Sarah looked back at the pond, shaking her head, and then at the gate and the land beyond. ‘And that field was definitely the one earmarked for the camping pods?’
Sergeant Grewal nodded. ‘I’ve seen the planning documents. There’s no doubt. Why? Is there a problem?’
‘This pond is the problem. I just don’t understand how it could have been missed.’
‘Maybe Irwin didn’t see it,’ offered Herriot with a shrug, gesturing behind at the stone wall which ran along the boundary of the two farms. ‘It would be easy to overlook if you were on that side.’
Sarah snorted. ‘Ross Irwin was a respected ecologist. And any ecologist worth their salt would have come through the gate and inspected this side as well, regardless of who owns the land. It’s not as if newts, or any creatures for that matter, take any notice of manmade constructs like borders.’
‘What makes you think he overlooked it?’ asked Gareth.
‘Because if he’d seen it, there’s no way he would have endorsed Dinsdale’s project.’
The statement had Sergeant Grewal watching Sarah even more keenly, while Gareth felt his own pulse pick up.
‘Sorry, but I’m not following,’ said Herriot. ‘I thought newts of any sort are notoriously difficult to find in the wild.’
‘They are,’ agreed Sarah.
‘In which case, if Gareth and the sergeant hadn’t stumbled across one yesterday and given us a heads up, are you telling me you would have known this was a newt habitation just by looking at it? And that Irwin should have known too?’
‘Yes and no.’ Sarah smiled. ‘Basically, the initial phase of any ecological impact assessment is merely to ascertain the potential problems which could be incurred on a site. So you don’t arrive looking for newts which, as you said, are really hard to find. You arrive looking for the possibility of them.’ She gestured at the body of water in front of her, the still surface reflecting the light-blue sky and puffs of cloud above. ‘This is a prime example of a possible newt breeding pool. A generous size with a sloped basin, plenty of underwater plants like watercress and forget-me-not to provide places for egg laying, and not too much shade. Not to mention good terrestrial habitat nearby,’ she continued, lifting her hand to point at the small copse down towards the beck. ‘That’s a perfect spot for refuge and foraging opportunities.’
‘Okay, so how should all that have had an impact on Irwin’s report?’ asked Sergeant Grewal.
‘Like I said, Irwin was only carrying out the initial phase of the survey. When he saw this and recognised it as a potential habitat, he should then have notified the relevant bodies – Dinsdale, the national park and the planning authority – via his report that a full newt survey would be needed. And that’s when the presence of newts would have been established.’
‘How much would that cost?’ asked Gareth.
‘It’s not that straightforward,’ said Sarah with an apologetic shrug. ‘If you mean in terms of direct outlay, anything up to three grand for a full survey, which involves multiple visits to the site to detect the newts. But the other costs can be more complex. For example, we’re in late August. If Irwin had done his job and sounded the alert, Kevin Dinsdale would have had to wait until spring for the survey to be started, as they can only be carried out when the newts have migrated back to the pond, so between mid-March and mid-June. Which means you’re looking at a delay to your project and any expenses that might incur. Not to mention ongoing costs if that survey does detect newts . . .’ She raised her hands. ‘There’s no denying it can be an expensive business.’
‘But surely this is far enough away from the proposed camping area to not prove a problem? I mean, it’s not like newts are big buggers or owt.’
Sarah laughed. ‘True, but our amphibian friends have a habitation zone extending quite a way, so any suitable pond within five hundred metres of a planned development should trigger a survey requirement.’
Gareth looked from the pond to the field behind the gate. Well within the parameters Sarah had described, yet Irwin hadn’t seen fit to call in a full survey. Which begged the question—
‘Can you think of any reasons Irwin might have overlooked it?’ Sergeant Grewal had taken the words out of Gareth’s mouth, the query delivered with a smile which didn’t disguise the sharpness of the content.
Sarah shook her head, a flush coming to her cheeks. ‘None that are legitimate.’
The simplicity of the reply only highlighted what hadn’t been said.
‘Interesting,’ said the sergeant, letting her gaze shift to Gareth. An eyebrow arched. ‘But before we go leaping to conclusions, let’s not forget whose land this pond is on. While I agree that the presence of great crested newts could have had a negative impact on Mr Dinsdale’s plans, they would have had an impact on Mr Metcalfe’s long-term use of this field too.’
Gareth let out a laugh. ‘Seriously? We’ve just had an expert in her field pass judgement on Irwin’s professionalism, with the possibility of corruption not being out of the question, and you still want to pin the blame on Will? Much as I’m loath to point the finger, surely Kevin Dinsdale deserves a bit more of a look at after this?’
Sergeant Grewal tipped her head in acknowledgement, a lock of dark hair shielding her face momentarily. When she looked back up, she bore the expression of someone calculating their options.
‘I suppose I’ve got the benefit of insider information,’ she said, glancing around at the three of them, ‘so what I’m about to say doesn’t go any further. DS Benson has had some initial feedback from the pathologist and I’m sorry but it’s not looking good for your friend. The rounders bat found in the back of Mr Metcalfe’s vehicle is a potential match for the murder weapon.’
There was a stunned silence, then Herriot groaned, shaking his head, turning away from the pond, while Sarah just went pale. But it was Gareth the sergeant was watching, waiting for a rebuttal.
He didn’t have one. He had no air in his lungs for a start, the news like a punch to the solar plexus, knocking every bit of wind out of him.
‘I have to stress, this is awaiting verification from a full post-mortem,’ the sergeant added gently, as though realising the impact of her pronouncement, ‘so it’s not final yet.’
Yet. Such a small word for carrying such weighty hopes. Hopes which Gareth had been clinging to resolutely but now found himself doubting the validity of.
Could Will Metcalfe, someone he’d known since primary school, be capable of murder? Four days ago, Gareth would have laughed at the suggestion. Now? That fight at the wedding. The way Will had lied. None of it was helped by the fact that the words of Sergeant Grewal from the day before had wormed their way into Gareth’s head.
Was the presence of a rare species on his land something Will had known about before this mess all unfolded? Or was the sergeant right? Had Irwin spotted the potential and threatened Will with revealing it to the authorities? And had that threat spiralled into a confrontation far more deadly than an exchange of punches in the rugby club?
Gareth ran a hand over his face, feeling the strain of the case, seeing that strain reflected in the expressions of Sarah and Herriot. Because this was a case which couldn’t be resolved without someone they knew and liked being outed as a killer, Sarah herself having already been considered a suspect. Now it seemed to have boiled down to a stark choice – if it wasn’t Will, then it was Kevin Dinsdale, another person Gareth had known all his life. Another one he’d have vouched for only a week ago.
‘Now you know why I work wildlife crime,’ said Sergeant Grewal with a dry smile. ‘There are rarely any mitigating circumstances for the atrocities I deal with and while it means I get to see humanity at its worst, I never have conflicting views about the perpetrators.’
Gareth grunted in response. Aware she was trying to lighten the atmosphere. But what Sergeant Grewal wasn’t taking into account was the impact of crimes like this in a place such as Bruncliffe. It wasn’t simply the victim and their killer who would be caught up in the fallout. It was the entire community. Delilah. Her brothers. Her parents. Not to mention Alison and the children. As he looked up the hill towards Ellershaw House, he was aware he was already bracing himself for the worst.
It was early evening when Gareth and Herriot returned to the building on Back Street. Up on the first floor, the Dales Detective team were on the verge of calling it a day – Nina and Nathan were packing up their laptops, Ida was giving the kitchen one last wipe down, while Samson and Delilah were discussing the evening’s plans. With Bounty scurrying ahead to make herself at home next to Tolpuddle in his basket, the vet and the gamekeeper walked up the stairs and into Delilah’s office, an air of deflation about them. A weariness Samson recognised as endemic to this particular investigation, which seemed to offer no outcome without heartache.
‘Tha looks like folk who were buying a tup and got sold a wether,’ muttered Ida as she crossed the landing to follow Gareth into the room, clearly picking up the same vibes.
Delilah looked up from her computer. ‘If it’s bad news,’ she said on a sigh that hurt Samson’s heart, ‘I don’t think I want to hear it.’
Herriot looked at Gareth, who just slumped against the doorframe and began speaking.
‘Sarah confirmed that Irwin’s report shouldn’t have given Kevin the green light—’
‘But that’s great!’ exclaimed Nathan.
Delilah was nodding. Smiling for the first time in hours. ‘Surely that proves Irwin was as dodgy as we think he was and Kevin was paying him for the result he needed.’
‘Sorry, to get your hopes up, but . . . there’s a “but”,’ continued Gareth with a grimace. ‘I take it you’ve heard about the rounders bat?’ At the despondent nods, he continued. ‘Well, based on that, Sergeant Grewal is convinced DS Benson will still be looking to charge Will, despite there being the possibility that the survey was somewhat shady, if not downright corrupt.’
‘What?’ Delilah was on her feet, hands on her hips. ‘But that’s mad! Sarah is every bit as much an expert as Irwin was. Doesn’t her opinion count for anything?’
Gareth shrugged. ‘I think the police are looking at it from both angles. If Kevin was desperate enough to bribe Irwin, maybe Will was desperate enough to kill in order to stop the news of those newts becoming public knowledge. And you have to admit, it’s a valid point.’
Delilah stared at him, taken aback. Then she looked at Herriot, whose eyes dropped to the floor. When she whipped round to Samson, he met her gaze, despite knowing she would read his own doubts on his face.
‘Oh my God,’ she whispered, turning back round the room. ‘You lot think Will might have done this. You really believe he could be capable of killing someone.’
‘It’s the rounders bat, Dee,’ Samson said gently. ‘It’s a likely match for the injuries Irwin sustained and it was found in Will’s Land Rover. There’s no refuting that.’
‘But there is,’ protested Nathan, moving across the room to stand beside his aunt. ‘Danny said himself that the pathologist hasn’t confirmed the murder weapon yet. And I just know Uncle Will wouldn’t have done this. He couldn’t have done this!’
The last sentence was more plea than affirmation and Samson knew the fresh pain this would inflict on the lad if his hopes for his uncle were dashed. Another loss, a man who’d been a substitute father for the last three years taken from him. It would tear him apart.
‘Fair point, Nathan,’ Samson said, ‘but without a suitable alternative for the weapon which was used to kill Irwin, the police have every right to be looking hard at Will. It’s what I would be doing if I were running the case.’
‘It’s what you’re doing now,’ snapped Delilah, her tone sharp enough to lift the heads of the two dogs in the basket.
‘Perhaps,’ said Ida, taking a step into the room, ‘we ought to leave it there for now and come back at this in the morning when we’ve all had a bit of sleep. There’s no good ever come from frayed tempers.’
‘And maybe we can start looking for that other weapon then, too,’ muttered Nathan, glaring at Samson as he picked up his laptop and left the room.
With an embarrassed nod at the remaining adults, Nina hurried after him.
‘Right, I’m off for a shower,’ said Gareth, making for the stairs, Bounty immediately abandoning the dog basket to follow him. Pausing in the doorway, he turned to Delilah. ‘Is there anything else I can do this evening to help?’
She took a deep breath, and nodded. ‘We’ve put a call out for any video footage taken on Saturday around the time of the reception, so five o’clock onwards. It doesn’t have to be wedding related. Anything which was filmed around town at that time. If you could spread the word, that would be great.’
‘Will do,’ said Gareth. ‘And for what it’s worth, I don’t want it to be Will either.’
‘I know,’ said Delilah softly. As the gamekeeper made for the stairs, she turned to Ida. ‘Any chance you could contact that mysterious source of yours and have them look through the video they took outside Peaks on Saturday night? Just to check?’
‘Consider it done,’ said Ida. She glanced at Herriot and he rose from the couch, cheeks flushed.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘And like Gareth, if there’s anything I can do, just call.’
‘Thanks,’ said Delilah, managing a smile.
‘Happen it’s time I was off too,’ said Ida, turning to go. At the top of the stairs, she looked back over her shoulder at the pair of them, as though she was about to say something. But then she simply nodded, brow furrowed with worry, and followed the vet down into the hallway. The porch door opened and closed and only then, with no one else there, did Delilah speak.
‘Ali’s asked me to spend the night at Ellershaw,’ she said as she logged off her computer and grabbed her hoodie from the back of the chair. Her eyes making contact with anything but Samson’s face. ‘She’s in a right state. So I’m heading straight there. Can you take Tolpuddle for the evening?’
‘Sure, but can we talk before you go—?’
‘Sorry, but she’s asked me to be there for the kids’ bedtime and I’m already going to be late.’
The words were measured, the tone polite. Then, without waiting for any further dialogue, Delilah rubbed Tolpuddle’s head and hurried down the stairs. The back door slammed shut in her wake.
‘Christ, Tolpuddle,’ muttered Samson as the hound crossed the room, looking as bemused at the hasty exit as Samson felt, ‘I could have handled that better.’
Tolpuddle let his head drop onto Samson’s lap, whether in agreement or rebuttal, it was hard to tell. But one thing was for sure, if this was their first argument as a couple – which Samson suspected it was given the nature of Delilah’s departure – then they’d sure chosen a hefty topic. The debate on a man’s innocence or guilt. A man who happened to be a brother to one of them and a friend to the other. As a seasoned police officer, Samson couldn’t pretend that all would work out fine and that Will couldn’t possibly be guilty. Just as he understood Delilah’s fierce loyalty to her family and her disappointment that Samson didn’t share that view.
Somehow, he doubted a bunch of flowers from the Spar was going to solve this one.