Untouchable (The Blake Harte Mysteries Book 1) Read online

  Untouchable

  By Robert Innes

  About This Book

  Released: November 22nd 2016

  Words: 33,000

  Standalone: Yes

  Series: A Blake Harte Mystery Book 1

  Cliffhanger: No

  Harrison Baxter lives on a farm with his parents, on the outskirts of the village of Harmschapel. It’s picturesque, idyllic and tranquil – but Harrison is far from happy. His parent’s marriage is strained to say the least and on top of that, his boyfriend, Daniel, has been mentally and physically abusing him for years. After he finds himself with one bruise too many, Harrison has had enough. But when he plucks up the courage to finally end his violent relationship, Harrison’s life is changed forever when Daniel is found murdered in the most bizarre circumstances.

  Detective Sergeant Blake Harte has moved to Harmschapel after his own relationship ended in tatters. But moving to a quiet village after working his way up the ranks in a city brings its own set of problems and Blake soon finds himself at odds with new colleagues who aren’t used to his style of policing. But when he is called upon to investigate the mysterious and impossible murder at Halfmile Farm, Blake finds himself facing the most challenging case of his career.

  So how can Daniel have been shot in a locked shed that nobody could possibly have escaped from?

  Is anybody really Untouchable?

  Copyright © Robert Innes

  Cover designed by Ashley Mcloughlin

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  For questions and comments about this book, please contact the author at [email protected].

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  Blake was beginning to think that he had taken a wrong turn. All he could see as he drove slowly round the weaving roads were the same looking trees and bushes with the occasional, equally unhelpful, field. He glanced at the clock on the radio. Half past two. Despite the directions the man on the phone had given him, Blake had found himself driving for a good hour longer than he had been led to believe was necessary.

  As he made his way round the next bend, he was forced to slam on the brakes as his car came bumper to bumper with a tractor pulling a large trailer behind it. Blake looked up at the driver, who stared impassively back at him, then sighed and reversed the car to a passing spot a few yards back. Blake stopped and turned off the engine as the tractor rattled past him, then put his head back against the headrest and sighed. He should have asked the driver for directions whilst he had him trapped.

  The clattering of the tractor faded away, leaving Blake sitting in silence. He looked around him, trying to find some sort of landmark that might give him some clue as to where he had ended up. He sighed and checked his phone again. Even if it had any signal, he doubted the maps app would be able to help him with nothing else to type into it apart from ‘rather large oak tree.’

  Blake glanced up in his mirror and took in his reflection. His brown wavy hair was looking dishevelled and his blue eyes were looking tired. It had been a long morning.

  He rolled himself a cigarette and got out of the car. His e-cig was charging, but he rather fancied the more sinful version at this moment anyway. Lighting it, he leant against the car bonnet and looked around him. For about the fifth time in the past hour he inwardly cursed his ex-boyfriend for his current situation, as well as the woman he had discovered him in bed with when he had come home early from work that night. Nathan had been spending a lot of time with her for quite a while but Blake had never even suspected there was anything between them other than friendship – why would he? Nathan was supposed to be gay after all and had appeared to be throughout the entirety of their five year relationship. But apparently the time that Nathan and ‘Cassie’ had spent in each other’s company had lead Nathan to the conclusion that life was ‘too short to waste on labels,’ and that he ‘really needed and wanted to experience these new feelings.’

  And so, heartbroken, Blake had walked into the superintendent’s office and asked for a transfer. Although he had worked a lot in Manchester, Blake had been stationed at a smaller station on the outskirts of the city– where too many people knew him, knew Nathan and apparently knew Cassie. Superintendent Gresham, his boss for the past seven years, couldn’t have looked happier if he had tried when Blake told him he wanted to move.

  The two of them had never got on – Blake was a little unconventional in his policing methods. Or rather, he was a little bit too emphatic for Gresham’s tastes. He was very much a believer that everybody is driven to the crimes they commit and that nobody is born with the need to perform acts of atrocity. In fact, there were times when he would be working more as a psychologist than a police officer. It wasn’t unusual for Blake to spend as much time round a suspect’s house, drinking tea with them and trying to understand their motives as it was to see him in the station, doing ‘proper policing’ and putting people into cells. As much as Gresham had fought behind the scenes, Blake had risen up the ranks to becoming a Detective Sergeant earlier this year, a few days after his thirtieth birthday. Because, as it turned out, his methods got results. It wasn’t that Blake couldn’t handle the more confrontational aspects of the job – he had been involved in so many raids over the years, armed with tasers and tear gas, that he had lost count and he was never likely to forget the stand offs he had had with people at the height of desperation, armed with some sort of weapon that they were more than prepared to use.

  But, despite this, Gresham had never liked him and it was probably this disharmony between them that had led to Blake being transferred here, in the middle of nowhere, as far away from the stuck up prat as possible.

  This was getting beyond a joke now though. Yes, he was now to be situated in the countryside, but this was beginning to feel like miles away from civilisation. He half expected to come across a farming shed with the words ‘Police Station’ written across it in white paint. He hadn’t argued when he had been told the location though – he did want to get as far away from Nathan as he possibly could. There was too much deep rooted hurt for him to deal with on a face to face basis. This was his chance to start his life again and to be able to move on from the pain that catching your partner in bed with someone else leaves on a person.

  His was just wondering which direction he was going to try next, when his phone started ringing in his pocket, breaking into his thoughts. He pulled it out of his pocket and smiled at the screen.

  “Hello Sally-ann.” He said, answering it.

  He felt his best friend cringe on the other end. She hated being called by her full name.

  “You’re too far away for me to hit you, but don’t think it isn’t getting stored away for the next time I see you.”

  Blake laughed. “If you can find me then that would be worth a slap to be quite honest.”

  “Why, where are you?”

  “Parked between two fields and a big tree.” Blake replied, glancing up at it. “Other than that, not a clue. About a five minute drive from the smell of manure? Mind you, you’ve at least caught me in an area of nowhere that gives me a bar of signal.”

  “So…lost?”r />
  “Very.”

  Blake heard her office chair scraping along the floor, meaning she was shuffling along the room to her computer.

  “What was the last main road you turned off?”

  Blake told her about his movements for the past hour. The time it took for her to find it on Google allowed him to finish his roll up, then he got back in the car, putting the phone on hands-free so that she could direct him as he drove.

  Sally was a sergeant in the area that Blake had left behind. Though he had been her superior, they had been such good friends that it had never really affected their relationship. She was an excellent officer and would probably be at his level before very much longer, especially now he was gone. They had shared the same feelings about Gresham and it had been her doorstep Blake had gone to on the night he had found Nathan in bed with that woman. She had helped him find his new house (very much like she was doing now) and had got him horrifically drunk the last time they’d seen each other as a goodbye. If there was one thing he was going to miss more than anything else from his old life, it was Sally-Ann Williams.

  Before too long, with Sally’s navigation and the luck of him finally coming across a helpful road sign, he was driving slowly through the picturesque market town of Harmschapel – his new home.

  It was everything he had expected. A three steeple church, with a plethora of gravestones sticking out of it, a thatched roof pub called “The Dog’s Tail” sat on a corner, near a bridge that overlooked a fast running stream and the occasional bus stop. It was a bright sunny afternoon and as Blake meandered along, the sun beams cascaded through the branches of various trees that he passed. Despite the amount of fuel that had been wasted getting here, he had to admit it was a beautiful village.

  After a few minutes’ drive, he finally found the road he was looking for and turned down it, shortly coming to a stop outside his new house.

  It certainly looked cosy. A large wooden door, with two tall hedges either side of it and similar thatched roof to the pub. It was painted white, with two windows sticking out of the top of the building with little tiled roofs on top of them. By the door was a small sign which read “Juniper Cottage.” Sally had picked it especially because the rent had not only been within his price range, but because the thought of him living somewhere with the same name as the berry used to make gin had amused her. Although he had loved it from the pictures the landlady had sent, now he was standing looking at it, it looked a little bit less welcoming, almost intimidating – as if it was daring him to mess up now that he had taken these steps and moved away from everything he knew.

  He took a deep breath and walked towards the front door, which suddenly opened. A tall woman wearing a silky red dressing gown was standing in the threshold. She had her slightly greying, jet black hair tied in a small beehive on top of her head and looked to be in her early 50s. She smiled warmly at him as he approached.

  “Well good afternoon – Mr Harte is it?”

  “Yes, that’s right. Sorry I’m later than I said I’d be.”

  The landlady of the cottage moved out of his way so that he could enter. Inside was warm and homely. He was led into the living room, where wooden beams were festooned around the ceiling, various pictures hung on the wall, and an unlit fire sat in the middle of a vast chimney breast.

  “Bit of difficulty finding the place then?”

  “Yeah, just a bit.” He said, scratching his chin. “Sorry, what was your name?”

  “Jacqueline.” She replied, twirling her necklace round her fingers. “I’m just across the road in the cottage opposite, so anything you need, just let me know.”

  “Thanks.” Blake replied, eyeing the slightly revealing dressing gown she was wearing. “I just want to get settled in to be quite honest. You got the paperwork and everything I sent across to you?”

  “Yes, yes.” Jacqueline replied chattily. “No problems whatsoever darling.” She smiled at him again and leant back against the wall. “A Detective Sergeant living opposite me! I’m sure I’ll sleep soundly in bed knowing there’s someone of your stature in the village.”

  She had looked him up and down as she spoke. There was no mistaking it. She was definitely flirting with him. Sally would love this.

  “Well, I’ll just get out of your way.” She said, a little flatly when he didn’t reply. “The keys are hanging up on that hook by the door, internet is all connected, heating’s on. When do you start at the police station?”

  “Tomorrow morning. Is it near?”

  “The station? Yes, just round the corner and down the end of the next road.” Jacqueline smiled, waving her arms around in an attempt to direct him.

  “I’m sure I’ll find it.”

  “Well, Mr Detective, I should hope so!” She laughed loudly and walked towards the door. Blake smiled glibly at her joke and opened the door for her. “Take care, I’ll be round tomorrow evening, just to make sure everything’s alright and you’ve settled in nicely.”

  “See you then.” Blake replied.

  He closed the door behind her and exhaled. So here he was - the new life. He had only been here five minutes and he already had a middle aged female landlady giving him the eye.

  He walked into the next room. The kitchen floor was tiled with stone but the majority of the walls appeared to be made of wood, leading up to the beams in the ceiling. In the centre of the room was a large kitchen table opposite a black electric oven, with a black copper chimney protruding into the ceiling. In the window sill, was a small compact radio that Jaqueline must have left playing. ‘Half The World Away’ by Oasis was playing softly out of it. Blake looked around him and shook his head.

  “You’re not kidding,” he muttered.

  Harrison Baxter stood in front of the mirror and lifted up his T-shirt, wincing as he did so. The new bruises glared back at him, dark, purple and standing out fiercely from some of the older, lighter coloured ones. His scalp was burning too from where Daniel had pulled him off his chair on to the ground by his hair.

  Harrison sighed and winced again as he pulled his t-shirt up further and turned round. At least the burn mark on the small of his back was going. That had hurt a lot, but he wasn’t even sure if Daniel had meant to do it. It was surely easy enough to burn someone with a cigarette and he hadn’t even been angry that day.

  It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment that Harrison had realised that he was in, what people called, ‘a domestically violent’ relationship. At the start, it had all seemed so normal. One day, he had annoyed Daniel to the point where he had shoved him against a wall and shouted in his face. That was no big deal, his own father had done that before. But then, whenever Daniel had gotten angry again, especially if he had been drinking, it would happen again, harder and with more meaning, as if it was an intentional reaction rather than a lashing out. Two years later, his body was covered in various bite marks, bruises and scratches.

  As the newest bruises dully throbbed, he remembered happier times. The night they met was at a mutual friend’s birthday party. Harrison, then only nineteen, had only just begun to come to terms with his own sexuality, when suddenly he had been introduced to Daniel Donaldson – a confident, funny and above all, gay man in his early twenties. Living on a farm, a twenty minute bus drive away from the main village, had resulted in Harrison leading a rather secluded lifestyle and so to be presented with somebody who was not only like him, but knew how to be like him was nothing short of awe inspiring. The pair had chatted all the way through the night, Harrison had got drunk and they had ended up sharing a kiss underneath a tree outside the party venue.

  After a few dates (hidden from his parents), they had gotten together and Harrison finally managed to pluck up the courage to come out to his parents. His mother had burst into tears and his father had sat in silence for about five minutes then left to go to the pub, not returning till well after Harrison and his mother had gone to bed. After that, the subject was only broached when he needed to know Harrison’s lo
cation.

  A year or so of complete bliss followed however. Daniel and Harrison became inseparable and as the months passed, he ended up spending more time at Daniel’s house than he did at the farm.

  But, as it happened, the night it all changed, Harrison had been at home. It was three o’clock in the morning when He had received a phone call from Daniel’s mother asking whether Daniel was with him. They’d received some tragic news – her husband and Daniel’s father had been killed in a car accident.

  From that point onwards, things were very different. Daniel began drinking heavily. He was morose, dark and quick to anger. Then that first act of aggression snowballed, quicker than Harrison had realised. But he knew that it wasn’t Daniel shouting at him, calling him all the names under the sun, throwing him to the ground and taking all his internal frustrations out on him. It was the drink; it was his dad’s death. Once he got through the grieving stage, things would surely go back to the way they were? He, Harrison, just had to be there for him and one day, the Daniel he had fallen in love with would be back. Who was he to say how long someone should grieve the death of their own father?

  “Harrison!”

  His father’s voice barking from the bottom of the stairs broke into his thoughts. He gently pulled his t-shirt down again and walked out and onto the landing.

  “Yeah?”

  “Dinner.”

  “Coming.”

  Harrison took a deep breath and made his way down the stairs. His parents had no idea about Daniel hitting him – in fact Daniel was always very careful not to hit him anywhere noticeable. All Harrison had to do then was wear clothes that covered up any damaged area of skin. He shuddered to think what would happen if his parents found out. His mother would only be worried. It wasn’t worth putting her through that.