A Merry Harper Holiday (John Harper Series) Read online

  Gaining my balance, I gave chase watching as the man began to shed his outfit, “Stop that Kris Kringle!” I shouted but few took notice as I slowly got closer to the man. He was smaller and thinner than me, weaving through groups. I, on the other hand, relied on size and brute strength, barrelling my way past people, occasionally hurdling over those unfortunate enough to fall in front of me.

  It must have been an unusual sight watching Father Christmas sans beard and hat running from a large man, whose coat was billowing behind him as he ran, like a cape on some vigilante superhero. Some people stared and others moved out of the way as we made up our way upstairs, running up the escalators.

  Unfortunately for me the security guards in the Arndale decided I was the one to stop as we made our way towards the exit. Two of them turned towards me as I got closer to the doors, and began to close on me. I pointed to the Santa and yelled again but they paid no attention to me. One of them I deftly handed off, pushing him to the ground but it slowed me enough for his compatriot to tackle me to the ground.

  “He’s getting away, you idiots,” I yelled from beneath the bulk of a guard. It was all I could do as I watched the red trousers of the running man disappear into the crowds of shoppers outside.

  Chapter Five

  For the second time that day I was sat in Jack Dunne’s office. This time I was sporting a sizeable bruise on my back from the knee of one of the guards. Due to that, my mood was rather dark and Jack knew all too well that I could turn angry when like that, so had agreed to my demands. I hadn’t asked for much, just the details on the man who had run away, a bargain bucket of fried chicken and one of his famous cups of tea.

  It didn’t take me long to realise that the information provided for the elf job was fake. None of the information matched the registries I had access to and for some reason, no one had noticed there weren’t enough characters for the National Insurance Number. I understood though; it was cash in hand work around the holidays that people didn’t necessarily want taxed. I was eating a piece of chicken when Jack came back in and collapsed into this chair.

  “More relaxed, are we?” he asked with a bitter tone I was very surprised to hear from such a man.

  I nodded in reply and offered him the bucket, “Chicken?”

  For a moment he looked like he was going to refuse but he took the food and sighed, “John this job is going to kill me. I hate this time of the year, it’s just far too much.”

  “More trouble?”

  “I’ve had you crashing through here, God knows how that is going to look to the bosses and now I’ve just lost another staff member to illness. I tell you they’re dropping like flies around here today.”

  “Hell of a life you have, mate. Have you got those photos I wanted by the way?” I asked.

  Jack shook his head and passed over his tablet. I’d asked for the staff photo of the Santa who had made his dash for freedom. I had wondered if Harris would answer my call to do a little facial recognition test on the runner but I recognised the man as soon as I saw the image. Robert Paul Shelby was a repeat offender who I knew from my days on the force working narcotics. He was younger then but I recognised the scar on his forehead.

  Excusing myself from the office, I made a quick call to the Category C investigation unit for some information on Shelby’s whereabouts. I had worked occasionally with that department to help solve easier murder cases and after cutting down their investigation time by a matter of weeks they were grateful enough to help me if I needed some facts checking. Again it was work I could have made my employee do but I was in a generous mood, it being the holiday season.

  I said goodbye to Jack before leaving and with my new information walked back to my office to get the work’s car. The old Honda Civic was a little scratched up and actually had a couple of bullet holes in it from my last case. If anything it was in too good a condition for where I was taking it.

  Manchester itself has improved dramatically over the past twenty odd years but some parts of it have been forgotten by the city council. The suburbs have floundered and certain areas have been neglected, declared essentially no go areas by the police. When I worked in the area you would often come up against the code of silence from the community. The people had become closely knit against the poverty and social problems around them and it was difficult for anyone to break into that closed circle. It had made investigations extremely difficult but I was from this city, raised on similar streets and knew that I could make a difference. All of that went through my head as I drove through progressively worsening areas. I was hoping that Shelby had kept the doll but the way things had been going that day I doubted my luck would last.

  Chapter Six

  I left my car down the street from Shelby’s house. He lived on the corner near an old railway line and a bridge that would be classed as urban art if it was any place else. The semi-detached house had seen better days with paint peeling from the window frames and one window cracked across the bottom. In front of the fence that was missing multiple planks of wood, a battered car was parked and behind it another, this one in much better condition. In fact the car stood out so much it caught the eye and in my usual way, I took a photo of the license plate once I was close enough to the vehicle. I also noted that the other car was indeed the one registered to Shelby.

  Now stood outside, I was wondering what approach I could use to possibly get inside. I didn’t really want to use the police officer routine because of the impersonation laws and the fact that Shelby had already ran from me. I didn’t have a warrant he would know that and what was I going to do tear his house apart whilst he waited patiently? There was a small possibility that I would not be recognised so I could use some sort of other ruse to get inside. I had changed out of my suit when in the office and was wearing jeans with my shirt, over that a weathered black leather jacket. My comfortable Loakes shoes had also been traded in for more durable army boots. The weather, as usual in Manchester, was wet and if there was another foot race I wanted the traction to catch my prey.

  I was still struggling with my deception when I heard a yell from inside and then the door flew open. Out ran Shelby, followed by another man. They careened past me and for a brief second I saw the look of recognition on the former Santa’s face as he looked at me before he raced across the bridge. The man behind him dropped a shoulder in my direction has he went past, sending me hurtling into Shelby’s car, resulting in me breaking off the wing mirror and collapsing to the floor. It took me a moment to compose myself and as I struggled to my feet, I picked up the name badge that my attacker had dropped from his shirt- Dean Gorman, Arndale Security.

  I was still processing that name and job description as I set off after him and Shelby. When the former convict had ran past me he had been carrying a bag on his back. I assumed if it was important enough to carry then it most likely contained the doll, since having looked at the man’s house I doubted he had anything else of value. The two men had made it across the bridge by the time I was at full speed but luckily for me I was used to exercise and neither of the other two had much in the way of speed or stamina. I gained quickly on them as they ran across a park, which was little more than a field with a couple of sets of rusted goalposts in the middle of them. A few kids played football and others who were messing around on a quad bike and BMXs began to jeer at us as we splashed our way across the muddy expanse.

  Gorman was taller than me and heavier which made for slow going on the unsure surface, his feet sticking in the deeper puddles. Shelby on the other hand was quick like a ferret but wearing thin soled trainers; he constantly slipped and fell, covering his red trousers in dirt. I was close enough to the security guard now that I let out a kick that clipped his heels together sending him flying to the floor and a face full of grass. That was payback for knocking me down. The on-looking boys laughed and hollered at him as I got closer to Shelby.

  I was a surprised by my own speed since it had been a couple of weeks since I had been on o
ne of my morning runs and after leaving the force I no longer had a football team to play in. Still it was my general fitness that was proving the key and I was nearly within arm’s reach of Shelby when he veered towards the group of bikers. They had not moved and he pushed one of them off a quad bike and leapt on it just as I reached him. Before I could grab him though I was tackled from behind for the second time that day; this time by Gorman, which left the two of us on the ground to be splattered in mud from the squelching tires of the commandeered vehicle. I didn’t have time to watch Shelby escape yet again as I turned and pushed Gorman off me.

  The security guard literally snarled at me and swung a heavy right handed hook at me once we were both standing. I blocked it with my left forearm and delivered a quick uppercut to his floating rib which dropped him to his knees. Not content with that I delivered a rapid succession of elbows to his neck and back, something taught to me in Fraser’s Gym on my last case. I was cheered on by the lads who stood at the side, happy that it wasn’t their quad racing off in the distance. I did my best not to kill the man with my hits and stood there trying to catch my breath. This was turning out to be one crazy day.

  Chapter Seven

  In the heat of the moment I hadn’t thought what I would do with an incapacitated six foot four, eighteen stone security guard. Now I was stuck with a semi-conscious man who was struggling to stand up. Gorman was in a considerable amount of pain and gave up trying to get to his feet as he rolled and sat on the floor. He was rubbing the back of his neck and protecting his injured ribs. I knew his pain after a number of injuries to similar parts of my body when I was in working in Hollingswood. The ribs are also my preferred target point on an attacker. They are easier to break and much less likely to damage your own hands, which is why I rarely strike someone in the face; cheekbones are such dangerous things.

  I stood away from him, out of reach of a kick, “So Mister Gorman why are you so interested in catching Shelby?”

  “I don’t have to answer your questions,” he said which was technically true and I didn’t feel like beating the information out of him. I already had my suspicions that he knew about the doll and was trying to acquire it for himself. So I shrugged my shoulders and walked back towards my car.

  I was nearly at the bridge when Gorman caught me up, I could hear his heavy footfalls and laboured breathing and turned, fists clenched at the ready in expectation of another attack. He however pulled up short of me and lifted his hands up in supplication, “Hey I don’t want any more trouble.”

  “Then why start it in the first place?” I asked not taking my eyes off him.

  Gorman stood and looked away from me like he was trying to form a feasible lie. He bit his lip for a moment before replying, “I was in a hurry to catch that man, I’m sorry I hit you.”

  “And what about the rugby tackle?”

  “Let’s cut to the chase; you know he has a Wynter Season Force and we both want it. I thought you would catch him and get it before I did so I tackled you, fair enough?”

  I nodded since it sounded like the truth to me, “How did you find out about the doll?”

  “Shelby isn’t some master criminal. I’m from round here; I know what sort of scumbag he is. I also know he got the job to rob people. The information that they collect when you are buying the photos of the kids is extremely useful. They’ve got addresses, family names and most importantly credit card details. Sometimes if they’re lucky and they play it right they can find out if people are out of town for the holidays. You pass that information on and people have an easy score getting into some empty houses.”

  I was surprised that Gorman was disclosing so much and it was also shocking to think that Shelby could be that clever, “It’s your job to stop crimes in the Arndale, so why didn’t you?”

  Again the big man was silent, “Technically there is no crime taking place there, so no foul really. The Arndale is big enough for everyone to have something on the side.”

  “And Jack Dunn knows about this?”

  “Ha you’re kidding, right? The guy is too nice for his own good. I figured out what Shelby was doing and decided to put a little tax on it,” Gorman said shrugging. He delivered all this like it was the most natural thing in the world and that pissed me off because if any of this was found out it would be my friend who would be on the line as well. Jack was nice enough for people like Gorman to take advantage of, but I knew he was a stern man who would bring down the hammer on anyone he caught breaking his rules.

  The wind was picking up and being as I was soaked to the flesh, I wanted him to start getting to the point before I started to feel the chill, so I became more direct with my approach, “I’m a little confused by all of this. You said you wouldn’t answer my questions and now you are. I’m also wondering why you would risk your tax collecting duties for a Season Force doll since if no one links Shelby back to the crimes, he could be hired next year and so on. It would be a nice earner for you every festive season if you could pull it off.”

  “Like I said, he aint no master criminal; Shelby is gonna get put back inside at some point so I know this is only a short term gig. No the Wynter doll is for my daughter. When I heard one had gone missing and then saw him make a run for it I guessed that he had it. At the end of the day, I can bring in some good money with this scam but I can’t earn myself some brownie points with my kid. If I could get her the new Season Force toy then it would be one in the eye to her stepdad and might make me happier this year.”

  Not having any children of my own I thought it might be difficult to sympathise with the man but I had taken this case because of how upset a little girl had been at losing a gift from her father so it did make sense to me, “I can’t let you have the doll Gorman. It’s stolen property and it is my duty to return it to its rightful owners.”

  “Don’t give me that crap, Harper, I know who you are and I know you aint a copper anymore.”

  “True but I am a detective and I took a case to return that doll. If you know who I am then you know that I am good friends with Jack Dunn,” he nodded at that, “Well if you don’t help me find Shelby I’ll let him know all about your taxation plan and we’ll see what he does to you then.”

  Gorman’s jaw worked itself for close to a minute, I could see the muscles flexing as he tried to decide what to do before he answered, “Fine, we have a deal. I’ll help you find Shelby if you don’t tell Dunn.”

  “Good, now where do we start?”

  Chapter Eight

  We walked back to our respective cars and I felt secure in the knowledge that I could take the man’s job from him if he decided to double-cross me. He waited for me, occasionally shivering, as I changed into a spare pair of clothes I had in my car. Since I had set up the detective agency I had kept extra attire in the boot of all of the vehicles I had in case of emergencies. It was a surprising for me to be that organised but it was just a natural progression from having fresh shirts and ties in my desk drawer when I was still working homicide cases.

  Once in new clothing I decided to go into the hovel that Shelby called a home. The outside was in much better condition than the interior and we walked through the open door to the stench of stale alcohol. It wasn’t the worst place I had been to but it wasn’t exactly where I wanted to be before Christmas, especially when those worse places had been crack dens. I made my way to the kitchen to clean the mud off my hands and keep away from the weather outside which had taken a turn for the worse.

  The cooking area was in the same disarray as the rest of the house that I had seen, with used plates stacked up on the side, old takeaway containers on the counter and a sink that was clogged with God knows what. A few flies circled the over flowing bin that was next to three bowls on the floor near a doggy door to the back garden. The dull blue laminate flooring was warped from water damage and extremely scratched in the corner that I assumed the dogs used. The appliances looked well used and a number of cupboard doors hung loosely, like they could fall at anyti
me. Trying not to touch anything, I faced Gorman as I wiped my hands on a pile of laundry that smelt mouldy, “So, in you expert opinion, where do you think Shelby has gone to?”

  “He’ll be trying to get rid of that doll as fast as he can. Problem is I’m pretty sure he has got it on him. If he tries to go to any of his usual haunts to sell it then they’re just as likely to steal it off him and beat him up for the hell of it.”

  “Makes sense. I take it he won’t be able to sell it online.”

  That statement was greeted by laughter, “You see a computer around here? Closest he gets to the internet is when he goes down the dole office. He’s got to find someone he trusts who is clever enough to move the doll on before Christmas and make some money.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to be laughed at by someone like Gorman but I held my tongue so as not to snap at him. I knew my temper could get me in trouble and at that moment I wanted to be in control of the situation. I was already angry at the sight of the fridge. Small brightly coloured magnets in the shape of letters spelt out a couple of names. If it meant that there had been kids in that room, I was not going to go easy on Shelby when I found him. I didn’t really care what the guy did to himself but I knew from his record he had two young sons, and there was no way I would ever let them into that house, “Do you think he would stash it somewhere?”

  “Shelby isn’t the most trustworthy of people and I doubt he has that many people he can trust to hide something. There are a couple of old girlfriends he could go to but again if anyone finds that doll they’ll sell it as fast as possible.”

  “So where will he be going?”

  “There is only person who Shelby can be certain will look after him; Matt O’Hara.”