Four of Hearts (DCI Harry Grimm Crime Thrillers #24)

Chapter 1

ONE

The room was silent, still. Harry could hear his own heart beating.

In one of his huge, calloused hands, he was holding a rather fragile looking fountain pen.

He’d not used a fountain pen in years. He had vague recollections of trying one when he was at school.

He remembered the sound of the nib scratching on paper, the blotter, how his writing had ended up looking like a drunk spider had crawled across the page, and how, in the end, with only his name written down, he’d ended up with more ink on his hand than anywhere else.

Harry was sitting at a leather-topped desk in the registry office in Leyburn, Grace at his side.

Only Ben and Liz were with them, they hadn’t brought anyone else along.

Not even the dogs. They’d all agreed that their marriages, the legal part anyway, should be just for them; nice and quiet, and private.

The fun bit, the celebration, that would be in a few weeks, when they would celebrate the couples they had become.

Right now, they hadn’t wanted the noise, the fuss, the emotion. This was their moment.

‘You okay, there, Harry?’ Ben asked, leaning in conspiratorially. ‘Only, Liz and me are getting married, too, remember?’

Harry heard Ben’s laugh, understood his younger brother’s playful impatience, but right then, time seemed to be both stretching and contracting all at once.

He wasn’t nervous, he was damned sure of that.

The speed he’d driven him and Grace to Leyburn earlier was proof of that, as was the double-time speed at which he’d marched them to the registry office to meet Ben and Liz outside the main door.

No, this wasn’t hesitation, Harry realised. Neither was it fear or nervousness.

It was disbelief.

The path he had taken through his life had been a confused one, angry and violent and dark, so how the hell had he ended up here? What good deed had he done to deserve any of this? Not that he was complaining.

Harry felt a squeeze on his shoulder. He looked up into Grace’s eyes, a gentle smile creasing their corners just a little.

‘I’m assuming I don’t need to check if you’re having second thoughts about any of this?’

Harry reached up with his free hand and rested it on Grace’s.

She interlocked her fingers with his. He knew that whatever expression he was wearing, or at least trying very hard to, it could never communicate what he felt inside.

An IED had destroyed any chance of that.

With his nerves ruined by the explosion, his face forever scarred by the razorblade shards of metal that had sliced his flesh like meat for a stir fry, his was a face that reminded everyone, and not just himself, of where he’d been, what he’d done, what he’d been through.

Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to be able to just smile, without it looking like he was about to rip someone’s head off.

He shook his head at Grace’s question.

‘Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,’ he said.

‘Then why the hesitation?’

Words were not Harry’s forte, and he wasn’t about to start baring his soul. Grace knew him better than anyone ever had, sometimes better even than he knew himself.

‘I guess I just never imagined that I’d be doing anything like this, with someone like you.’

Grace squeezed Harry’s fingers.

‘Makes two of us.’ The warmth in her eyes played a tune in Harry’s soul that almost had him singing. ‘Now, are you going to sign the register, or am I going to have to go and find myself another husband who looks like a loveable rockface?’

Harry laughed at that. To have found someone like Grace was the very definition of luck.

That she somehow not only loved him for who he was, but for how he looked as well?

He’d never been able to get his head around that, doubted that he ever would.

He was well aware that how he looked was something he’d used as a wall, something he’d hidden behind for decades.

He was safe there, and it had the added advantage of terrifying anyone who came close.

Grace, though? She’d seen through that immediately. Harry wasn’t sure she’d even mentioned it when they’d first met. It was as though, from that first chance meeting, she’d actually seen him. And ever since that moment, he’d been in a state of bewilderment.

Harry rested the nib of the pen on the paper, and at that very moment, Grace leaned forward to whisper into his ear.

‘Just in case you’ve forgotten, we’re already married. This signing bit? It’s just a formality.’

Harry cocked his head back.

‘So, there’s no getting out of it, then?’

‘Nope.’

Harry hesitated just long enough to get a gentle punch on the arm. Then, noticing the flip of his stomach, he signed the register.

With Grace’s signature then done, Ben and Liz stepped forward to witness it. Ben took hold of the pen. As he placed the nib against the paper, Harry noticed that his brother’s hand was shaking.

‘Means a lot, you doing this,’ he said.

‘Sorry, Harry, I shouldn’t be nervous,’ Ben replied. ‘It’s just my signature, isn’t it?’

Harry said nothing for a moment, then whispered, ‘Yes and no. It does mean that if I die, you have to marry Grace as well, but I can’t see that being a problem, can you?’

Ben snapped round at that, wide-eyed, laughed, then signed the register. A moment or two later, with Liz’s signature also done, the registrar concluded the ceremony.

‘You may now leave the room together.’

Outside the registry office, Harry gathered everyone around.

‘That’s that, then,’ he said, then eyed Ben. ‘What time are you two up?’

Ben checked his watch.

‘We’ve an hour.’

Harry clapped his hands together.

‘Excellent. Time for a pint and a quick bite of something then, before we swap roles!’

An hour and a half later, both marriages were complete. They were now officially, two married couples.

The day was bright, with spring slowly edging towards summer, and they were now all standing beside Harry’s Rav.

‘Well, that’s the dull legal bit done,’ said Grace, then looked over at Harry. ‘We’d best on with organising the fun bit now, hadn’t we?’

‘Yes,’ Harry agreed, ‘but if you remember, half the reason we’ve kept this bit quiet, is because we know a certain number of people who’ll get a little carried away and excited by it. That’s why we’ve not exchanged rings yet, either.’

‘You mean Matt, don’t you?’

‘Of course I mean Matt.’

‘Margaret’s not going to be much better,’ smiled Liz.

‘Or Dave,’ added Ben.

‘Actually, come to think of it, I wonder how Mandy’s going to—’

Just the mention of the name was enough to get everyone laughing.

‘One thing, though,’ said Grace. ‘The rings ...’

‘What about them?’

‘Just seems a little odd being married, but without any of us having a ring on our finger, don’t you think?’ said Liz.

Harry glanced down at his own left hand. He’d never worn jewellery in his life, unless the ID discs, or dog tags, he’d worn in the Paras counted, which he very much doubted.

‘I thought...’ Harry began, but the look from Grace was enough for him to hush.

‘Yes, as we all agreed, the official rings will be exchanged at the celebration or party or whatever it is you want to call it,’ Grace said. ‘But it didn’t seem right to go home after this with nothing.’

Harry looked over at Ben, who stared back at him with the confusion he knew was written on his own face at what Liz and Grace were saying.

‘Grace and I, we had a chat,’ said Liz. ‘And, well ...’

‘Well, what?’

Liz and Grace revealed a small, black box each.

‘Are they what I think they are?’ Harry asked.

Liz and Grace opened the boxes. Two black rings sat in each.

‘They’re silicone bands,’ Liz explained. ‘Just thought it would be nice, you know, if we all had something on our ring fingers, until the real thing?’

‘Like stunt rings, you mean?’ said Ben.

‘That’s one way of thinking about it, I suppose,’ said Grace.

Harry reached for one of the rings in the box Grace was holding out, slid it onto his finger. Ben did the same, followed by Liz and Grace.

‘Doesn’t exactly go with my engagement ring,’ smiled Grace, as she held her hand up to look at her finger. ‘It’ll do for now, though.’

Harry led everyone over to his vehicle, parked as it was in Leyburn marketplace.

‘Back to ours, then? We’ve been slow roasting some beef brisket from Cockett’s for our little celebration dinner.’

‘Not so fast,’ said Grace. ‘I think you’ve forgotten something.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ Harry smiled. He then opened the boot of his vehicle and pointed to a plastic cooler in the corner. ‘See?’

‘Champagne?’ said Grace.

‘Champagne,’ said Harry. ‘So, what say we take a stroll up the Shawl and open it before heading back?’

No one argued.