The Whitby Murders (A Yorkshire Murder Mystery) - J. Ellis (ebook reader with internet browser TXT) 📗

they passed some dark towering cliffs, there were still a few kittiwakes flying around the rocky ledges that had been their breeding ground through the summer. One or two distinctive cries were audible, but nothing to compare with the cacophony during the breeding season.

‘Are you feeling peckish?’ asked Oldroyd.

‘Now you mention it, yes,’ replied Deborah. ‘But I had no time to think about getting anything for lunch. You just swept me off my feet as it were and here we are.’

‘Never mind.’ Oldroyd removed the rucksack from his back and started to unload the contents. ‘I took the liberty, ma’am, of procuring some savoury comforts from the local purveyors,’ he said, imitating the accent and manner of the indefatigable Jeeves from the P.G. Wodehouse stories.

‘Oh, Jim! You think of everything!’

As they sat eating the excellent sandwiches, cake and fruit that Oldroyd had acquired and drinking coffee from a flask, the boat passed the picturesque village of Robin Hood’s Bay with its beautiful cottages spilling down to the seafront. A little further on they were lucky enough to see some seals basking on the rocks beneath a cliff.

On the way back, after watching some huge tankers pass in the distance, Oldroyd couldn’t resist reflecting on the Dracula story.

‘Have you ever read the novel?’ he asked.

‘No, but, like everyone else, I’ve seen lots of film versions and vampire movies. I didn’t know part of the original story was set here.’

‘Yes. That part of the story has got a bit lost but Whitby was a favourite place of Bram Stoker’s and the count arrives here in a schooner.’ He changed his tone to that of dramatic storytelling. ‘Of course the weather wasn’t like this that day. The count summoned up a storm and thick mists. When the boat arrived at Whitby all the crew were dead, including the captain who had heroically strapped himself to the helm. It was a ghost ship that horrified the people who saw it. When it ran aground on Tate Hill sands, which are just inside the harbour, a big dog leaped onshore and bounded away. The onlookers thought this odd, but they didn’t realise the full significance: that dog was Count Dracula, who had arrived in England. He could shapeshift into animals including, of course, the famous bat. In the horror and chaos of what was happening they didn’t realise that . . .’

Oldroyd stopped. After a moment Deborah looked at him. ‘Yes, Jim, go on I’m enjoying this and . . . Oh no, he’s off on one again.’

‘Sorry,’ said Oldroyd, shaking his head. ‘I am trying to switch off, but there was something there that just made me think.’

‘About the case no doubt.’

‘Yes.’

‘Don’t tell me you think Dracula was responsible for that murder.’

Oldroyd laughed. ‘No. Although the murder did take place in a Dracula-themed escape room, so maybe he did have some responsibility.’

The boat was cruising slowly into the harbour.

‘Did the victim have bite marks on her neck?’ continued Deborah, still poking fun at her partner.

‘No she didn’t. But . . .’ Oldroyd stopped and shrugged his shoulders as they got ready to disembark. ‘Wonderful! Marvellously bracing,’ he said when they were back on shore. ‘Stimulates the appetite though. Do you fancy a cup of tea and a scone? I saw into the window of a café on the way down and the scones looked enormous.’

‘Do you ever stop thinking about food!?’ laughed Deborah. ‘Except when you’re thinking about a case.’

Andy headed down the M1 with mixed feelings. It was always nice to go back to London to see family, friends and his old haunts, although he hardly thought of it as home anymore. He was keen to play his part in this case as he’d felt out of the action while Steph and Oldroyd were in Whitby. But he preferred working with Oldroyd directly. There was nothing so interesting and informative as watching his boss interrogate people and witness at close hand how his thinking on a case developed. He’d learned so much, but maybe it was time to put that knowledge into practice for himself.

He had a dossier of information and he was going to call in at the Met to see if they had anything on anyone he was investigating. His boss had also arranged for the Met to supply a DC to assist him. He passed the time on the motorway by listening to some of his favourite tracks, and stopped for coffee halfway down at Leicester Forest Services.

When he finally arrived at the Met he was pleased to see that DC Jenkins had been assigned to help him. He’d worked with Jenkins before in a case involving violins and gangland killings.

‘Nice to see you again, Sarge,’ said Jenkins with a grin. ‘What’s this I hear about a case concerning a murder committed by Dracula in a spooky castle in Whitby?’

Andy laughed. ‘Sounds like Chinese whispers have been at work. I’ll explain as we go along.’

They headed first to Shoreditch to an address near Spitalfields Market. This was the headquarters of Alpha, a small, but successful publishing company, which employed Jack Ryerson. On the way, Andy noticed displays of lanterns and pumpkins in one or two shops and they passed two people dressed as witches with enormous pointed black hats.

‘Look at them, Sarge. Must be doing some kind of promotion for Halloween,’ said Jenkins.

‘Yeah, it’s not long until the thirty-first is it?’

‘Only a few days to go. The kids will be wanting me to take them out trick or treating.’

Andy smiled. That seemed like a fun thing to do. He had fond memories of dressing up and going round knocking on doors when he was a boy and his dad was still alive. It would be nice to take a child out and see them getting excited. Maybe he was getting broody in his old age. The idea of family life was starting to have an appeal. What would Steph think?

The offices were in a large ultra-modern tower block. The detectives went through revolving doors into