Gardners, Ditchers, and Gravemakers (A DCI Thatcher Yorkshire Crimes Book 4) by Oliver Davies (best black authors txt) 📗

closer and pressed the rag to his face, climbing up and around to stand behind him, pressing it tightly to his face. He was strong, and he struggled against me, fumbling with his hands, but eventually, he breathed in nice and deep, and his hulking body started to sag. I let him go where he was, slumped against the wall and looked down at him, slightly sorry.

“You’re just the way, lad,” I told him. “Be grateful you’ll only wake up with a headache.”

I tucked the rag into my pocket, I didn’t know when it might come in handy again, and pulled my coat on. One last hurrah, and then my work was all done.

I left Dunnes there, leaving the door ajar so that he wouldn’t die of fumes, I wasn’t that cruel, and walked through the house, making sure all of my doors and windows were firmly locked before striding out to the car. It was nice to be driving without him following me, and I relished my little freedom as I headed regrettably away from home, back down the lanes and roads to the ugly city.

I hated it at this time of year. Tourists swarmed around, getting in the way and slowing everything down. School children were left to run amuck and cause mischief. But perhaps, I shouldn’t grumble too much. Today, the busy streets and buildings would be in my favour, after all. I didn’t park at the hospital, the prices they charged were inhuman, and I wasn’t quite that stupid. I parked a few streets away, on a quiet little street and made the pleasant walk over, strolling along in the sun and the singing birds. A lovely day, a very lovely day. I wouldn’t let it go to waste now.

As I rounded the corner to the hospital, I saw a few police officers outside, pacing around before the doors. Oh, dear. That might be a problem. A distraction then, I was smart enough to think up one of those. I looked around me, looking for something of use, my eyes falling on the crumbling stone wall behind me. That’ll do.

I dislodged one of the loose stones, ducked behind a tree, and sent the stone hurtling towards a car, where it neatly smashed into the windscreen and set the alarm wailing. It got their attention, and one of them came jogging over to it, the others milling further out into the carpark, hands on their radios, scanning around. A small family made their way towards the doors and followed after them, my head bent, feet dragging, using their little cluster to get past the policemen and into the hospital.

Now then, where, oh, where would she be?

They’d never tell me, I knew that much. I doubted anyone could get into her room, really, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to work out. I popped into the gift shop and bought some flowers, an unhealthy, gaudy bouquet to keep my face hidden as I perused the wards.

Nobody stopped me. That was the thing about a hospital as busy as this. If you act like you’re meant to be there, nobody stops you. I checked a few floors with no luck and was starting to grow annoyed. And then, from out a corridor, came two vaguely familiar faces. I ducked back as Abbie’s little sister, not so little anymore, walked along with a little girl holding her hand. The one and only Grace. She was cute, it was almost a shame, but she seemed to be in safe hands. Paige’s face was drawn, and her eyes shot from place to place nervously as she shepherded Grace along.

Once they’d gone, I moved towards the hallway they’d come from, following it along for a while until there, a nice new Lurch stood watch outside a door. He checked his watch occasionally, waiting for somebody, it seemed. I debated what to do next. I couldn’t get in past him, and I didn’t particularly want to try. I wondered if he knew my face, probably did. They always seem to know everything. I wasn’t sure how legal it all was, really. He turned around to the room suddenly, looking in through the window, and pulled his radio to his mouth hurriedly. And as he talked, he turned around, looking down the other side of the hallway. Now was my chance. I pulled the rag from my pocket, checking the deserted hallway quickly and ran over to him, looping my arm around his neck and clasping it to his face, praying and muttering that it would work. After a struggle, not unlike his fellow Lurch, his knees gave in. I lowered him to the chair, hoping that to a passer-by, he’d look like he was just taking five and turned myself to the door. Through the little window, I saw what had caught his interest. I pushed the door open and locked it behind me, walking over to the bed as Abbie Whelan’s open eyes focused on me, addled and confused.

“Toomas?” she asked in a croaky voice.

I smiled at her, pulling the needle from the pocket. “Hello, Abbie.”

Twenty-Eight

Thatcher

My heart beat wildly in my chest, partly thanks to Mills” driving, but mostly from anticipation. I gripped my phone tightly in my hand, my legs bouncing beneath me. I was keen to get to the hospital as soon as we could. With the sirens whirring, the busy streets parted for us, and thanks to that and Mills” mad driving, we were back in the city quickly. I clipped a radio to my jacket and grabbed a set of handcuffs, making sure we had all bases covered before getting to the hospital. I hoped that Paige had heeded my word and taken Grace somewhere safe.

As we made our way through the city, I bent my mouth down to the radio.

“This is Thatcher. Any sign of him?”

“No sign, sir,” came a muffled, crackling response. I couldn’t quite make out who it was. “We had a disturbance out