Reginald Hill - Under World

The man hesitated then said, ‘All I can tell you, Mrs Pascoe, is that half an hour ago we got a call from South Yorkshire asking us to keep an eye out for your friend, Colin Farr. Said he’d most likely be riding a motorbike.’

‘But why? What’s he supposed to have done?’

‘He works at Burrthorpe Main, doesn’t he? Well, at the end of the last shift they found a man dead down the pit, a deputy name of Satterthwaite. And the South Yorks force would like your friend Mr Farr to help with their inquiries!’

‘I don’t believe any of this,’ said Pascoe.

On his arrival at Burrthorpe police station, he had been neatly intercepted by Detective Chief Inspector Alex Wishart of South Yorks CID whose presence in this outpost of his constabulary empire was not reassuring. Something serious was going on. Quickly Wishart gave him a brief outline of events as they involved Ellie.

‘What it comes down to is that my wife has been picked up drunk in charge of a murder suspect?’

‘That’s how I might put it if I were writing for the Challenger ,’ said Wishart. He was a small, neat man with a residual Scots accent which had survived his transplant to South Yorkshire some thirty years earlier. Pascoe enjoyed his dry humour, and liked and respected him.

‘Where are they?’ he asked.

‘Farr’s up at the hospital. He’s got a lot of injuries and I want it firmly established that they’re nothing to do with us. Your good lady’s here but not being very cooperative. Listen, Peter, I’d really like to smudge this breathalyser business out of sight. It’s an unhelpful complication and the reading was just on the borderline anyway.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘The Press,’ said Wishart. ‘The locals are here already and no doubt the big boys will be sending out scouts. Someone will talk. It might even be your good lady, the way she’s going on about citizens’ rights and police brutality. Once the hacks find out she’s married to a cop they’ll have a field day.’

‘What are you saying, Alex?’ asked Pascoe.

‘Urge upon her the merits of silence, even if it’s only relative. And explain that we’ve got to go ahead with the blood test. It’ll almost certainly be under the limit by now, so that will be one less thing for the Press to sink their fangs into. Oh, and it would be nice to have her statement all signed and sealed by the time I get back.’

‘From where?’

For answer Wishart jerked his thumb downwards.

‘You’re going down the pit? Jesus!’ said Pascoe with a shudder.

‘I don’t much care for the idea myself. It’ll only be a token to get the Forensic boys under way. Looks bad if the investigating officer doesn’t show his face at the scene of the crime.’

‘It’s definitely a crime, then?’

‘You ought to see the body,’ said Wishart grimly.

‘It’s been brought up already?’ said Pascoe in surprise.

‘Peter, you don’t leave bodies down a coal mine. When they found him, they thought it must have been an accident so naturally they brought him out. Soon as a doctor saw his injuries though, we were sent for.’

‘These injuries …?’

‘Looks like several violent blows to the skull with a length of metal, but we’ll need to wait for the PM for details. No doubt about assault, though.’

‘Where does Farr fit in?’

‘He knocked off early saying he felt sick. His team leader, a man called Wardle, told him he’d better let Satterthwaite, the official in charge of their section, know. Evidently there’s been bad feelings between Farr and Satterthwaite, with threats of violence. Farr went off. When he left the pit-yard, he didn’t go home but just vanished.’

‘And on the strength of that you put out a call for him?’

‘No, though his reputation plus this previous trouble with Satterthwaite might have been enough. But there was another deputy, a man called Mycroft, who saw Farr on his way out. He said Farr asked if he’d seen Satterthwaite and he directed him to where he thought he might be. Also I thought it might be a good idea to have his pit-black checked by Forensic. There’d almost certainly be traces after an attack like that. But when he looked for Farr’s gear in the dirty lockers, it wasn’t there. So then I put out a call. But I’m treading very carefully, Peter. It’s tribal round here, you’ve got to be careful not to upset any local ju-ju. So wish me luck. I’ll not be long if I can help it. Make yourself known to Sergeant Swift. I’ve told him you’re coming. Whatever anyone else says, he runs this joint!’

Wishart left and Pascoe went in search of Swift, a grizzled middle-aged man who didn’t greet him with any enthusiasm.

‘You’ll find your wife upstairs, sir. Second floor, first on left.’

The rebuilt Burrthorpe police station was, perhaps literally, big enough to withstand a siege, and, perhaps wisely, they’d put Ellie as far away from the public areas as they could without locking her up.

‘Peter, what’s going on?’ she demanded angrily as soon as he came through the door. ‘I’ve been stuck in here for nearly an hour.’

‘You make it sound like a dungeon,’ said Pascoe. ‘The door’s not locked.’

‘Not physically perhaps. The Scots dwarf who put me in here said he was a friend of yours and implied that if I didn’t stay put, it might mean a public beheading for you!’

‘He was exaggerating,’ said Pascoe. ‘It would probably be private. But thanks for worrying. I hear you were breathalysed.’

‘Yes, I bloody was! I bet you weren’t, and you probably drank twice as much as me.’

‘You’re not implying privilege, are you?’

She shook her head and said, ‘Not really. Yours is not a name to conjure with, as I found out the hard way.’

‘Ah. Trying some conjuring, were we? Well, you’ll be pleased to see just how impartial and incorruptible we are,’ said Pascoe. ‘Which means you’ll have to take a blood test.’

‘What?’

‘That’s the procedure. You wouldn’t want us to vary the procedure, would you?’

‘Peter, don’t muck about. They’ve got Colin somewhere in this kremlin and they’re trying to pin a murder on him. Who the hell’s bothered about breathalyser tests?’

‘Ellie,’ said Pascoe, very quiet and controlled. ‘Farr isn’t here. He’s been taken to hospital for a check-up. He will be well taken care of. Your job now is to take care of yourself. It would be well, for instance, to establish that you were not indulging in some kind of mobile drunken orgy when apprehended.’

‘Apprehended? You make it sound like there was a car chase like in one of those awful cop films you love watching.’

‘That is just how it may sound unless we are careful,’ said Pascoe wearily. ‘Look, the doctor should be here soon to take the sample. Don’t be too impatient. Every minute gets you nearer legality. Then you’ll have to make a statement.’

‘Statement?’

‘Yes. You’re a possible witness in a murder case, remember?’

‘Witness of what, for God’s sake?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Pascoe. ‘I wasn’t there. I’ll fix up for someone to come and help with the statement. No, I don’t mean write it, just the lay-out and to witness your signature.’

‘Can’t you do that?’

‘Not a good idea. I’ve no standing here, thank God. Also I’ll give Wieldy a ring and make sure our daughter isn’t holding him hostage.’

‘Oh God. I’d forgotten Rosie,’ she said in alarm. ‘You left her with Wield?’

‘What did you want me to do? Bring her here?’

‘No. Of course not. I’m sorry. I’m sure he’ll be fine.’

There was a knock at the door and a tired-looking man with a doctor’s bag came in.