Restless Dead (Harry Grimm Book 5), David Gatward [best books to read non fiction TXT] 📗

bit of fun I suppose, not that I was taking it seriously, but I was happy to support James if that’s what he wanted to do, not that Patricia approved though. But then the tapping at the window started.’

‘And what did that sound like?’ the detective asked.

‘Like something tapping at the window,’ Dan said with a shrug. ‘How else would it sound?’

‘Can you describe it?’

Dan knew he was pulling a face at the detective, one that said why, what’s the point?

‘Was it a regular tap-tap-tap,’ the detective clarified, ‘or was it more irregular?’

‘Oh, it was a tap-tap-tap,’ Dan said, then tapped his finger on the table. ‘Yeah, like that. And then the woman, she started speaking in a really weird voice, which was very creepy. Then there was more tapping and by that point, everyone was getting a bit jumpy, to say the least, and I’d certainly had enough, so I went to the window to see who was out there and—’

‘Did you see anyone?’

‘Not a soul,’ Dan replied. ‘I even went outside to check. Took my torch as well, and it didn’t pick anything out at all, and that thing can pick out a fly on a cow’s arse a mile away, I’m sure. So, whoever was out there, they must’ve run off sharpish. Good job, too, because if I’d gotten my hands on them . . .’

Dan felt an adrenaline surge as he spoke, but knew that actually, deep down, he was pleased he hadn’t found anyone outside, because what would he have done, really? Nothing at all most likely.

‘What about the fire?’ the constable asked.

‘Pat woke me,’ Dan said. ‘I was absolutely out for the count. Anyway, she shakes me awake and I can smell the smoke. And, well, you know the rest.’

‘Did you see James go to the cabin?’ the detective asked.

‘No,’ Dan said. ‘I went to bed. Took my tablets and that was me out.’

‘Tablets?’ the constable asked.

‘Statins and aspirin,’ Dan said. ‘I’m young for them, I know, but heart disease runs in the family so it’s a precautionary thing. Took a while to get the right ones. Some give you the worst headaches.’

‘What about sleeping tablets?’ the detective asked.

‘What about them?’

‘Do you take them?’

‘I used to,’ Dan said, immediately wondering then why he was being asked about something no one knew about. ‘I still do now and again, it depends. Why?’

‘So, you have them with you?’ the detective said.

‘That’s correct,’ Dan replied. ‘Started in my teens with bouts of insomnia. Continued through college and out the other side. Then I met Pat and for whatever reason, it got a little bit better. Love, right? So now, it’s only now and again.’

‘And you carry them with you?’ the constable asked.

‘Always have them to hand,’ Dan said.

‘What are they called?’

Dan had blurted out the name of the tablets before he’d even wondered why they were so interested in them.

For a moment, the detective and the constable sat in silence, each checking through the notes the constable had taken.

‘Right then,’ the detective said, rising to his feet, ‘would you be able to show me where you heard this knocking sound at the window?’

‘Of course,’ Dan said, and with that, he stood up and led the detective and the constable through to the lounge.

‘So, which window was it?’ Harry asked, now standing in the lounge. ‘The one you heard the knocking at?’

Harry had never had to investigate the possible source of supposed ghostly rappings, so this was a first. Though the house suited it, he thought, and he found himself easily imagining the stories being told about the place over the decades, of strange noises from the attic, odd shadows seen on gloomy evenings, whisperings in the dark. But how any of that, of what Matt had told him, tied into what had happened, he hadn’t the faintest idea at all, but it was his job to investigate, so that’s what he was going to do.

‘That one,’ Dan said, pointing, and Harry followed over to stand at the window.

Beyond the glass, Harry stared out onto a well-manicured lawn, a silent army of trees beyond it, and further still, the distant hills of the dales, and he couldn’t escape the feeling that he was being watched. Not necessarily by a person, but by the very landscape itself, like it knew something that he didn’t about what had gone on, and other things, too, darker events, held hidden by the silence and darkness of time.

‘Something definitely tapped against the window,’ Dan said. ‘I mean, it could’ve been a bird I suppose, but that just seems like too much of a coincidence, doesn’t it?’

‘And you didn’t see anyone at all out there?’ Harry asked. ‘Not a movement or anything? Something that you thought looked a bit strange?’

‘Nope, not a thing,’ Dan replied. ‘It was dark, so there was no chance anyway, but I still went outside for a look. Seemed the sensible thing to do.’

Harry understood people’s urge to go and look for an intruder when they heard a noise, that urge to protect what was theirs, their property, their family. But it didn’t always end up well for those involved, did it?

‘Right, best I go have a look outside then,’ Harry said, and he left the room and headed through the house and round to the door leading out to the front. Outside, in the grey light of day, with the wind bringing with it a chill both dry and sharp, Harry marched across the lawn, the house on his left. The road was at the bottom of the property, trees were in front of him. If there had been someone here, then it wasn’t just a question of where they went, but how did they get here in the first place? He supposed that the medium could have dropped them off to hide in the woods on the way, but that was showing just a little too much dedication to the art of faking it, he thought. Because it