Stephen Booth - The Corpse Bridge

‘Where to next?’ asked Fry.

‘I think it’s time to go visiting the aristocracy,’ said Cooper.

Local people would tell you that Knowle Abbey had never actually been an abbey. Well, so far as anyone was aware — not in the sense that it had housed monks or nuns, ruled over by an abbot. It had always been the home of the Manby family and that was the end of the story.

But Cooper knew from that visit with his mother that the history books said differently. Knowle had originally been the site of a Cistercian abbey. But when the Dissolution of the Monasteries came along, the abbot and his monks had been pensioned off and their abbey confiscated by the state.

In fact, when it first became a country residence, this had been as a home for the Vaudrey family, a declining branch of an old Norman line who’d lost most of their lands by picking the wrong side in a rebellion. A dilapidated Knowle Abbey had later passed to the Manbys by marriage. Unlike the Vaudreys, the first Earl Manby was a new aristocrat on the rise and his descendants had become powerful and wealthy. They’d built the present house some time in the eighteenth century, adding to it in various ways over the years according to the whims of successive earls.

Cooper had called into his office at West Street and found DC Carol Villiers on duty. She wasn’t very surprised to hear from him. Carol was quite used to his ways by now. They’d known each other since they were children, after all. Since she’d left the RAF Police and been recruited into Derbyshire Constabulary. It had made a refreshing change for Cooper to have someone on his team in CID who actually understood him.

‘Carol, can you check if there have been any incidents reported recently at Knowle Abbey, or anywhere on the estate. Anything involving the Manby family or their staff. I’ve a feeling there was something a while ago.’

‘You mean the Manby family?’ said Villiers. ‘The earl himself?’

‘That’s the one.’

‘Of course, Ben. No problem.’

Then Cooper phoned ahead to the estate office at Knowle, and was assured that someone would meet him at the abbey.

‘You don’t need to come along,’ he said to Fry.

She shrugged. ‘What else would I do?’

Cooper thought of mentioning that she was supposed to be moving to a new flat this weekend, but it might not be the right subject to raise when he’d abandoned her so suddenly last night.

They drove down into the landscaped parkland that occupied the fertile valley of the River Dove and extended well up into the lower slopes of the hills on either side. For several minutes they seemed to be passing along a perimeter wall around the estate. Dense plantations of trees covered much of the landscape.

‘Are there wild animals in these woods?’ asked Fry.

‘Bound to be.’

‘There’ll be badgers, I suppose?’

‘What?’

‘Badgers. They spread TB.’

Cooper shook his head. ‘Only to cattle, Diane. You’re perfectly safe.’

Badgers were a difficult subject at Bridge End Farm. Matt was likely to explode if anyone mentioned them as being cute, cuddly animals. Unlike the situation in other parts of the country, Derbyshire County Council had banned a badger cull in the county, despite incidents of TB being reported among local cattle. So it was quite likely that somewhere on the Knowle Abbey estate, the badgers would be below ground, waiting for the night.

Further on the abbey itself came into view. From this angle it seemed to be an almost random collection of porticos, balconies, windows and castellated extensions. Its size was impressive, but its architectural design would never have won any awards.

Villiers called Cooper back just as he was driving through the ornate front gates of the abbey.

‘Hi, Carol.’

‘Yes, Ben, you were right. Nothing too serious, but there have been some reports of threats and vandalism. An intruder reported one day in the grounds, that sort of thing.’

‘Threats? Against who?’

‘General abuse, most of it. Though the earl’s name was mentioned, of course. They had some obscene graffiti. There was even an anonymous letter, which is a rather old-fashioned way of doing it. Most people like to write their threats and abuse on Twitter or Facebook these days.’

‘Most young people,’ said Cooper.

‘That’s a point. But wouldn’t you think-’

‘What?’

‘Well, the average middle-aged Derbyshire resident doesn’t resort to writing threats and abuse to people they don’t know.’

‘I suppose it depends whether they have a reason,’ said Cooper.

He followed direction signs to the estate office. Just inside the park they passed a walled topiary garden, with hedges clipped into the shape of an eagle’s head. The Manby family emblem.

The estate offices at Knowle Abbey were housed in part of the old coach house block, next door to the restaurant and craft centre. They were met by a young woman with short red hair and a brisk manner. She was wearing a navy-blue body warmer with her name on a badge. Meredith Burns described herself as an assistant estate manager.

‘Thank you for coming along. You must know about our unfortunate incidents,’ she said.

‘I’m sure your neighbourhood policing team has been to speak to you,’ said Cooper.

‘Yes, they have. But we didn’t expect too much to come from it, to be honest. Not a visit from a detective sergeant anyway.’ She looked at Diane Fry. ‘Or two, in fact?’

‘Yes,’ said Fry.

‘How unusual.’

Cooper could sense an instant animosity developing between Fry and Meredith Burns. It was something that seemed to happen when Diane Fry was involved. She must give off some specific pheromone that he couldn’t detect.

‘I believe you received an anonymous letter,’ said Cooper.

‘Yes, about three weeks ago. We didn’t really think anything of it, until the vandalism.’

‘Oh, yes. Can you show us?’

‘This way.’

Meredith Burns led the way along a gravel path that headed away from the stable block along the east wing of the abbey itself.

‘Apart from a few medieval stone carvings, the only remnant of the abbey’s early history is the former Chapter House, which is now the Manby family’s private chapel,’ she said.

When they turned a corner of the abbey, it was immediately obvious that the arched front of the chapel was suffering from the ravages of time, along with the effects of weather and pollution. Meredith Burns explained that it had been placed on the Buildings at Risk Register ten years previously. Specialist conservation work had been started, but the money ran out. Now lots more cash was needed to save it from complete destruction.

‘We estimate that the necessary work will take around eight years to complete, at a cost of over a million pounds,’ she said. ‘Our immediate priorities are to prevent water penetrating the core of the building and damaging the delicate carvings and statues. Obviously, we also need to conserve and repair the eroded masonry. We’d like to examine the façade for any traces of medieval paintings, before they disappear completely. And the entrance steps to the west front will need repairs too.’

They were approaching the rear of the chapel, where a small mausoleum became visible in its shadow. Burns turned to Cooper.

‘We don’t have many years left to do these things, before some parts of the chapel get beyond repair,’ she said. ‘That’s why we’re seeking donations and sponsorship to help us rescue it. This is a national treasure.’

‘Sponsorship?’

‘We’re trying to get grant aid from the English Heritage Lottery Fund. But there’s a lot of demand for grants and it wouldn’t cover the total cost of conservation anyway. We’re asking visitors to make cash donations for the appeal via donation boxes inside the house and café. We’ve approached several local and national companies to become sponsors of the campaign. But times are hard for everyone.’