Stephen Booth - The Corpse Bridge

‘Is this your first visit to the area, sir?’ asked Cooper.

‘No, we were here in September and we really loved it. That’s why we came back with a few friends.’

‘What did you do in September?’

‘We went out with our guns and shot some pheasant.’

‘Did you? What day was this?’

‘It was the second week in September.’ Everett smiled at his expression. ‘Oh, don’t worry. The Glorious Twelfth was well past.’

‘Yes, it might have been,’ said Cooper. ‘But the twelfth of August is the start of grouse shooting season. It isn’t open season for pheasant until October first. So your shooting expedition was still illegal.’

Everett opened his mouth to laugh and seemed to be about to make a smart reply. Then he remembered who he was speaking to.

‘Well … you know,’ he said, ‘it was just a few brace of pheasant. They won’t make any difference. Everyone takes a bird for the pot here or there.’

Cooper didn’t smile, though he’d shot a few brace of pheasant himself. Once October first had passed, those birds lived in jeopardy every minute of their lives.

‘I thought perhaps you didn’t like the Peak District,’ he said.

‘No, it’s great. You have a beautiful area here, Detective Sergeant Cooper. We all love it. We tell our friends how great it is.’

‘So why were you leaving so early, sir? I understand you had the property booked for a few more days yet.’

‘Oh, the weather hasn’t been too good, you know. A bit disappointing. And business to do back in Manchester…’

‘And perhaps the stash ran out?’ said Cooper.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You and your friends were in such a hurry that you didn’t spend enough time cleaning up,’ said Cooper. ‘You’ve left some paraphernalia in the kitchen. It’s funny. I would have expected you to use a credit card and rolled-up fifty-pound notes for snorting the coke. That would have been more in keeping with the image. But the silver tray for cutting the lines is a nice touch.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

Cooper shrugged. ‘Shall I make a call? Then we can just sit here and chat while we wait for the sniffer dog to arrive. They’re very good at locating traces of drugs.’

Everett went pale and smoothed his hair again. ‘Is all this really necessary, Detective Sergeant? I have a good job, a nice house, a family. I’m a law-abiding citizen.’

‘Then perhaps you’d like to cooperate a bit more.’

Everett sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry we decided to leave in a hurry. I realise it might have looked a bit suspicious. But my friends were freaked out by the sight of all the police cars. We had a quick conference and decided to call it a day. I suppose some of the locals have been talking about us. We just came here to have a bit of fun, though. We weren’t doing any harm.’

‘I’m interested in what you were doing late at night,’ said Cooper. ‘I hear you were outside into the early hours of the morning. Is that right? Even in November?’

‘We’re a hardy bunch in Manchester.’ Everett laughed. ‘You ought to see the kids out clubbing in Deansgate, dressed as if they’re going to the beach with six inches of snow on the ground.’

‘Were you out every night?’

Everett reached for a cigarette case in his pocket, looked at Cooper and pushed it back.

‘Pretty much,’ he said.

‘Did you and your friends happen to go up as far as the castle?’

‘Castle? Oh, up there on the mounds? No, it was too much of a climb for us when … I mean, in the dark. We liked it down by the river, just sitting in the dark watching the stars. You don’t see the stars much in the city.’

‘Do you know anybody in this area?’

‘No. Why would we?’

Everett was starting to look a bit more confident now. He’d decided that Cooper wasn’t going to do anything about the drugs paraphernalia or call in the sniffer dog.

‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘there are other people out at night around here. You might want to wonder what they’re up to, rather than persecuting people who are just having a good time.’

‘What people?’

‘We saw them going up there one night,’ said Everett. ‘To the castle.’

‘How many of them?’

‘At least two. There were two cars, so it must have been at least a couple of people. Now, you can bet they were up to no good.’

‘What night was this?’ asked Cooper.

‘Er, I couldn’t say exactly. It was a few days ago.’

‘Could it have been last Thursday?’

‘Yes, I suppose it could have been.’

‘You saw at least two people going up? But how many coming down?’

Everett looked blank. ‘It was probably too late for us by then.’

‘Oh, I see,’ said Cooper. ‘Too late for you to remember anything.’

Diane Fry had found herself in Taddington, without really knowing where she was. She’d followed Luke Irvine’s advice and taken the Flagg road. It was the sort of back road she would normally avoid, but it seemed to have worked.

Several officers were already in Taddington at the Redfearns’ house and knocking on doors. A family liaison officer was in the house with George Redfearn’s daughter, waiting for the wife to arrive. DC Becky Hurst and DC Gavin Murfin were both here too. They looked unsure what do when they saw Fry arrive.

‘Anything useful so far?’ she said.

Murfin shrugged and grunted. But Hurst seemed to make a different decision.

‘The daughter has no idea what her father might have been doing or who he was meeting,’ she said. ‘But there’s a lady across the road worth speaking to. The house with the blue door. She has an interesting bit of information. Gavin has spoken to her already.’

‘Thank you, Becky.’

Fry walked across the road. The neighbour was agog with curiosity at all the activity. Some people got impatient when they were asked to repeat a story they’d already told, but this lady was only too eager.

‘Yes, we had a man round here asking questions,’ she said. ‘He was a property enquiry agent.’

‘What’s one of those?’ asked Fry.

‘He said he was making enquiries on behalf of a prospective house purchaser. He wanted to know what the neighbourhood was like, whether it was quiet, how many children there were living in the area. That sort of thing.’

‘Did he ask questions about your neighbours?’

She looked a bit embarrassed. ‘Well, I’m not sure he asked questions about them exactly, but I suppose I might have ended up telling him a few things. There’s always a bit of gossip in a village like this.’

‘About the Redfearns, for example.’

‘I didn’t give away any secrets,’ she protested. ‘I only told him things that everyone around here knows.’

‘Of course. Did you happen to get a name for this man?’

‘I’m not daft. I asked him for his identity.’ She put a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, he left me a business card. I forgot to tell the other police officer that.’

‘Can I see it, please?’

‘Give me a minute and I’ll find it for you. It’s around here somewhere.’

‘Thank you.’

But she didn’t go straight away to look for the card.

‘Did I do something wrong?’ she asked.

‘Not so far,’ said Fry. ‘But you might be more careful about who you talk to in future.’

When she’d seen the card, Fry called Ben Cooper. She guessed he would still be at Pilsbury trying to sniff out a lead of his own.

‘There’s a job I’d like you to do,’ she said. ‘I think you’d be the best person for it.’

It was one of the most remote farmsteads in the area. Even the narrow back road over the eastern slope of the moor seemed like the back of beyond. Cooper had reached a point on the road where he could see nothing in any direction except vast expanses of exposed moorland and lots more hills in the distance to the north.