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    Hard North
    Hard North
    Hard North
    Ebook197 pages1 hour

    Hard North

    By S.D. Gripton and Sally Dillon-Snape

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    About this ebook

    The 8th novel in the Andy North 50,000 word series, this one concerns domestic abuse and the consequences of it. Two schoolboys are sliced as they walk home from school, witnesses say that the attackers were slim and dressed in grey hoodies with hoods up, white shorts, trainers and white gloves and most think that they were young women or girls. The cutting of the boys, it turns out, was just a way of announcing the arrival in the County of a group of vigilantes who are going to punish men who beat women. They call themselves the Enigmas because they are a mystery to the police, to County Major Crimes, to Andy North, to Ellie Tonbridge and the other Detectives of the Unit. The day after the boys are cut, three men are stabbed, all of them being unprosecuted domestic abusers who have beaten their wi wives and girlfriends, one of whom is heavily pregnant. While the Enigmas cause chaos in the City, Andy and his teams chase them and gather intelligence. One nurse comes to their attention, Vecta Davis, but it turns out that she has been so badly abused during her young life that she is looked after by the Enigmas and is mentally very fragile. After questioning her, Andy agrees with the Enigmas that he will not question her again if one of them surrenders to him. One does but the meeting is very challenging for Andy, Following Ellie Tonbridge's questioning of Vecta Davis' mother, Vecta cuts her wrists and the promise Andy made is broken. He is attacked and is left fighting for his life. Another exciting crime novel from the imagination of S.D. Gripton.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherS.D. Gripton
    Release dateOct 2, 2019
    ISBN9780463919866
    Hard North
    Author

    S.D. Gripton

    S.D. Gripton novels and real crime books are written by Dennis Snape, who is married to Sally who originate from North Wales and Manchester respectively and who met 18 years ago. I work very hard to make a reading experience a good one, with good plots and earthy language. I enjoy writing and hope readers enjoy what I have written. I thank everyone who has ever looked at at one of my books.

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      Book preview

      Hard North - S.D. Gripton

      Hard North

      An Andy North Crime Novel

      Book Eight

      By

      S.D. Gripton & Sally Dillon-Snape

      Copyright © Sally Dillon-Snape & Dennis Snape (2023)

      The moral right of the authors is hereby asserted in accordance with The Copyright Act 1988

      All characters and events in this publication other than those of fact and historical significance available in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons living and dead is purely coincidental

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval systems, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the written permission of the publisher

      Cover by Snape

      ***

      Chapter 1

      Bill Longmire, a Detective in the County Major Crimes Unit, was sitting at his desk drinking sweet, white coffee and reading a document that updated Stop and Search procedures. He was barely halfway through the document and already disagreed with almost everything within it. His dark-blue suit jacket lay over the back of his leather swing-chair, his tie was loosened from the neat knot he’d tied when he’d left for work that morning and the top button of his pale-blue shirt was undone.

      It was 4:00 p.m. on a warm summer afternoon.

      It had been a quiet day; all the criminals were at the seaside or sunning themselves in somebody else’s garden, eating somebody else’s food, digging up somebody else’s flowers.

      The fixed-line phone on Bill Longmire’s desk rang. What with all the tinkling sounds and theme tunes of the mobile phones in the office, the strident ringing of the fixed-line severely interrupted the soporific reverie of the three other people working in the office.

      Answer the fucking phone, Bill, Danny Smith shouted and Bill laid down the document he held in his hands, gave Danny the finger, and picked up the phone.

      County Major Crimes Unit, Bill said into the phone, Detective Longmire speaking; how can I be of assistance?

      Good morning, Detective Longmire.

      Good morning, Miss, Bill said.

      See, the female voice said, in one short sentence you have just proved what is wrong with the world. You have instantly addressed me as Miss when I may well be a Mrs or a Miz or even a Madam or a Lady or a Dame. You know nothing about me yet you have the temerity to address me as Miss. I am sure you would like to apologise.

      I am very sorry; is there anything I can call you? Bill asked.

      You may address me as Blue Enigma, the voice said.

      And that is how you would like me to address you, as Blue Enigma? Bill asked, quite used to confusing phone calls; this one being a little more confusing than normal.

      I just said so, didn’t I? the female voice said.

      Bill sighed, picked up his cup again and sipped more coffee.

      Are you drinking liquid? the voice enquired.

      I just sipped my coffee, Blue Enigma. I am sorry again if I upset you again.

      You didn’t upset me, it was simply rude, sipping your drink whilst conversing with me.

      Are we conversing, Blue Enigma, or are you just telling me stuff and having a go at me? Bill asked.

      Do I sound sweet and innocent to you? the voice asked, changing the subject.

      You sound very young, Bill said, and I have no idea whether you are sweet or innocent.

      But if I hung up now, would you say to your colleagues that you had just been speaking to an innocent young lady?

      I may say something like that, yes.

      I am Blue Enigma, Detective Longmire. Have you any idea why I call myself that?

      Because you want to be thought of as mysterious and a puzzle that cannot be worked out, or can only be worked out with difficulty, and that you’re miserable.

      Why would I be miserable?

      Because you’re blue, Bill replied.

      He covered the phone, rolled his eyes and pointed a finger at his own head as if he wanted to shoot himself. Others in the room laughed or tittered. Bill returned to the phone.

      Depression and being miserable are not emotions that go naturally together, Detective. Do you not understand that?

      I understand it very well, Blue Enigma. I was just trying to discover things about you; for example, if you’re miserable or not.

      I am not.

      Okay; like everyone today, no matter your mood, you have to be what you have to be.

      I am all the things you said, Enigma stated, except I am not miserable.

      Good for you.

      Do I detect a slither of sarcasm, Detective Longmire or a hint of humour, mayhap?

      Mayhap, Bill considered.

      Who the hell used the word mayhap any longer?

      What do you want, Blue Enigma, or whatever your name is? Why have you phoned into the County Major Crimes Unit?

      I am so pleased we have reached the crux of my telephone call. Congratulations, Detective Longmire, you got there. I want to report a stabbing, the gentle female voice stated.

      Bill Longmire pulled a sheet of paper towards him and picked up a sharpened pencil.

      Where? he asked, pencil poised.

      Here, the female said.

      Where’s here?

      Where I am, here; standing by a low wall that surrounds a church in one of the County’s little villages up in the mountains. I have just watched a small school bus come to a stop in the village and three schoolchildren unload themselves from it. They are waving to others on the bus and chatting amongst themselves, but I know that two of them will walk in a direction away from where I’m standing when they finish their gossiping, the other will walk straight past me. He will not know me, he will not recognise me, he will not really see me; although it is a quite beautiful day…do you think it is a beautiful day, Detective Longmire?

      It is quite warm. Who has been stabbed?

      Nobody yet, but once the school-kid from the bus walks past me, he will be. Blue Enigma, Detective Longmire; your new nightmare. Who am I; where am I; who is the school-kid and why have I done it? Good luck at solving those problems.

      There was a pause in her conversation and Bill Longmire didn’t quite know what to do or what to say.

      Blue Enigma, are you still there? Do not do what you are proposing to do, leave the schoolchild alone, Blue Enigma, Blue…

      Oh dear, Detective Longmire, it is done.

      The phone went dead; Bill Longmire stared for a split second before slamming down the phone.

      Fucking hell, he said.

      What? Eric Stanley asked as Bill shot to his feet, pushing back his seat, alerting the other Detectives to the seriousness of a situation.

      Girl just called me up; wanted to report a stabbing…

      Yeah, Danny Smith said.

      …but the stabbing hadn’t taken place, she was reporting a stabbing that she was going to be carrying out. She stabbed a schoolchild.

      Did you hear her stab anyone; did anyone scream out? Eric asked.

      No.

      Then maybe it was a hoax call, Danny suggested.

      No, it wasn’t. She called herself Blue Enigma and after the stabbing, she said it was up to us at Major Crimes to discover who she was; where the village in the mountains was, where she was calling from; who the schoolchild was and why she’d done it? She was not kidding.

      Danny, get the boss, Eric said and Danny Smith stepped quickly out of the Unit offices, stepping three paces to his right and knocking on a door, opening it without being invited in. The man sitting behind the desk inside the office with windows wide open to the pollution of the outside world had made the rule; if you have something to tell me or something to ask me, just knock and open, step in and tell me, ask me, do not be waiting for a fucking invitation to enter. It had been that way for some time.

      Danny? Andy North asked; for he was the man beyond the door to the office and he was looking up from paperwork on his desk. What can I do for you?

      Boss, can you step in, we have something important to relate, Danny said.

      Is it serious?

      It might be, boss, it just might be.

      Andy, who was sitting in his shirt sleeves, cuffs buttoned, with his own dark suit jacket hanging on a clothes-peg to the right of the door, the top button of his own shirt undone, it being a rare warm day in their totally landlocked County that stretched from flat sea-level areas to high moors and to the highest town in England, to the mountains and peaks beyond. His Major Crimes Unit had never been large enough to cope with the area they covered; three shifts of four men with a Detective Sergeant in charge of each shift, all of them answerable to Detective Inspector Andy North; tall, six feet, slim but with good living beginning to grab him around the middle, bags beneath his eyes because of the baby his wife had given birth to just over one long year ago; his wife being the Assistant Pathologist for the County when she was at work, which she wasn’t, very often, at the moment, Andy being jealous of her inactivity, being allowed to stay home with the baby, sometimes being allowed to sleep during the day, something denied to him. He was well thought of by almost all the County’s Detectives; other officers, mostly uniformed, having thoughts about him that covered the whole gamut from admiration to hatred because of his attitude to the niceties of policing, his not caring about them, and jealousy, especially where his gorgeous wife was concerned. Andy didn’t care what others thought about him, he only believed in his Unit and the Detectives who worked in it, the officers who got things done, that was what they were paid for, and to get those things done he and his teams sometimes stepped on toes; sometimes they stepped on toes so hard they removed them from feet; metaphorically speaking.

      He stood briskly from the chair he was sitting in and he stepped into the Unit office with Danny Smith and Bill Longmire repeated his story. After listening to the verbal report, Andy questioned him.

      And you are absolutely convinced that she was genuine, Bill; you believed she had actually stabbed someone; that she had stabbed a schoolchild?

      I am absolutely convinced of it, boss.

      And you think she was just being clever with this Blue Enigma name?

      "She seemed very clever in general, boss; very educated; good accent. She even used the word mayhap, and you don’t hear that around here every day the week, and she laid down her riddles for me. She said I would have to work out which village she was in, who the schoolchild was, who she was and why she did it. The riddle was laid out for us; for Major Crimes; she called herself Blue Enigma and I think she meant it."

      Jesus, Andy said looking at his watch. And this happened, what, ten minutes ago?

      Not that long, boss, five, six minutes ago.

      Eric, ring downstairs; see if anyone has reported a stabbing or if anyone has reported a schoolchild late home from school.

      Eric Stanley lifted his fixed-line phone and dialled a number, speaking quietly.

      I’ll speak to the Desk Sergeant, when we go downstairs and we’ll get on the road, drive towards the mountains, hope somebody phones in; we can be closer to the incident. We’ll get the Desk Sergeant to radio us the moment anyone phones him, if they haven’t already.

      Sounds like a plan, boss, Danny said.

      Detective Sergeant Trevor Spellridge stepped into the Unit offices carrying an arm full of sandwiches, everybody taking a turn to walk down to the canteen and purchase such and today it was Trevor’s turn. He stepped over to the nearest desk, which happened to be the one used by D.C. Phil Eddery, and he dropped the sandwiches down upon it.

      What’s up? he asked.

      Nothing’s been reported downstairs, boss, Eric Stanley shouted over.

      Nothing of what hasn’t been reported, boss? Trevor Spellridge asked before anyone else could speak.

      We’ll explain in the cars, we take both of them. Come on. I’ll speak to the desk and be right behind you. Phil, you man the office in case any reports come into here. Come on.

      Phil Eddery nodded at Andy’s order but was not happy with it. Detectives always wanted to detect; they did not want to be answering phones if and when they rang.

      Andy, Trevor, Eric, Danny and Bill Longmire rushed from the Major Crime Unit, picking up sandwiches as they went; Andy stepping into his office to snatch up his jacket, before he and his team raced along the first-floor corridor lined with cream painted walls, down the staircase, turning right at the bottom and along the lower corridor and out of the Station’s caged back door, out of which they let themselves as they walked swiftly towards two of the Unit’s parked cars. Andy and Bill Longmire climbed into one, Trevor, Eric and Danny climbed into the other; Bill started the car, reversed out of the spot and drove out of the police parking area, closely followed by the second car, that one being driven by Eric Stanley; both cars heading out of the city, heading west towards the mountainous area of the County. They had travelled only three miles when the Desk Sergeant back at the Station contacted them.

      Their stab victim had been reported.

      His name was Alfie Wilton.

      He was fifteen-years-old.

      He had been walking home from school when he’d been stabbed in the stomach.

      William was alive.

      Uniformed officers, Medics and an ambulance were attending.

      He’d been discovered lying in a city street.

      Bentley Street.

      Not in a mountainous village.

      With a glance from Andy, Bill Longmire indicated to pull the car over into the first lay-by he came to and he swung the car round. Eric Stanley followed his manoeuvre; both cars racing back into the city.

      Two minutes later, the Desk Sergeant, a long-serving Sergeant named Wilf Meredith, called the car again.

      Andy, the passenger, took it.

      I have a message from Blue Enigma, if that makes any sense to you…

      It makes sense, Wilf, Andy confirmed.

      Oh, okay. It was a female and she said; are you on your way to the mountains?

      Is she still on the line? Andy asked.

      No, Andy. She said she would call back in two minutes.

      When she does, tell her that we have found her victim in Bentley Street in the City and that we are on the way there now. Tell her that.

      Will do, Andy, Wilf Meredith said.

      Bill Longmire shook his head and continued to drive into the city.

      "She’s mad, this

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