Stephen Booth - The Devil’s Edge

Cooper closed his notebook with a snap, restraining his irritation.

‘By the way,’ said Edson, his eyes sweeping contemptuously over the two detectives. ‘We also like Bauer’s because they have a dress code. No jeans, no trainers. Otherwise, you get turned away. And quite right, too.’

‘I know a lot of people like that,’ said Murfin as they reached the gate.

‘What, like Mr Edson? You’re kidding.’

‘No, people with naturally large livers as a result of their lifestyle. There are quite a few of them down at my local.’

Monica Gamble was waiting to grab Cooper as he arrived at Chapel Close. She was agitated about the appearance of police at her door again.

‘You can’t think Barry has anything to do with what’s been happening to people in Riddings,’ she said. ‘He’s an old fool, I know. But he’s harmless.’

‘What concerns me is whether we’re being told the complete truth,’ said Cooper.

‘There’s nothing to hide.’

‘We’ll see.’

‘It’s just because Barry raised the alarm. It’s always the person who finds the body who gets suspected by the police, isn’t it? I’ve seen it time after time on the TV.’

Cooper wanted to point out that what she saw on TV was just fiction. But sometimes it did come a bit too close to reality for comfort. People who reported the finding of a body often turned out to be involved in the death. Either they thought it would signal their innocence, or they did it out of a desire to be involved in the investigation in some way. You couldn’t rule it out. Not even with an old fool like Barry Gamble.

‘There must be more witnesses,’ said Monica appealingly. ‘Someone else must have seen something on Tuesday night.’

‘Well…’

She grasped his sleeve desperately, clutching at any possibility.

‘They did, didn’t they?’ she said. ‘Someone?’

‘There was a party of walkers coming down The Hill from the edge. They recall seeing someone in the phone box, but that’s all.’

‘The phone box in the village?’ she said.

‘Yes. Why?’

She stared at him for a long moment, as if she was working something out in her mind.

‘Oh, nothing. It’s nothing,’ she said finally.

Cooper turned as Gamble was brought from the back of the house, where he had no doubt been lurking in his shed.

‘All right. Would you come with us, Mr Gamble?’

‘Are you arresting me?’

‘No. We’re going to take you to Valley View. I want you to show us exactly where you were on Tuesday night, and explain what you saw.’

‘I’ve told you all that.’

‘Well, make it easier for us to understand, would you?’

Gamble settled his cowboy hat on his head, pulling it down over his ears as if that made him ready for anything.

‘Have it your way,’ he said.

‘And remember that Valley View is a crime scene, Mr Gamble. While you’re there, please don’t touch anything.’

‘Fair enough. Lead on, Macduff.’

There was a hold-up at the end of the road, where the access into Chapel Close was blocked by a van and trailer being turned round in the narrow space. This must happen all the time in Riddings. One man was trying to do a twelve-point turn while another stood behind and shouted a warning when he came too near a wall.

Finally they managed to complete the manoeuvre and drew into the side to let Cooper’s car pass.

When Cooper saw who the van belonged to, he wound down the window of the Toyota.

‘Mr Summers.’

‘Oh, hello.’

‘I see you have a different assistant today.’

‘Eh? Oh, yeah. This is Alek. I only employ the lads on a casual basis, you see. As and when needed, you know.’ He glanced at Cooper. ‘It’s all legit. All the paperwork is in order. I don’t employ illegals or anything like that.’

‘No, I’m sure you don’t.’

‘And I pay all my taxes. None of that cash-in-the-back-pocket stuff. Me and Customs and Revenue are like best mates.’

‘Fine.’

Cooper didn’t really believe it. Summers had been too eager to bring the subject up. Small-scale tradesmen like him took cash in hand all the time, gave the householders a lower rate for the job to keep it off the books. It was nice to see that Summers had a bit of a guilty conscience about it. But it wasn’t something Cooper was interested in right at the moment.

Valley View was quieter now. The crime-scene tape was still in place, and a uniformed officer had been assigned to deter curious passers-by. But much of the attention had moved to Fourways next door, where the forensics activity was taking place.

The officer on duty looked bored, but his face lit up when he saw the detectives arriving. He made quite a performance of signing them in, as if this one task might justify his pay this week.

‘Have you had much interest from the public?’ asked Cooper.

‘What public? No one pays any attention to me. The media go past here sometimes, but they’re all heading further along the road.’

‘I’ve seen them. They’re outside Moorside House.’

‘Bloke there is a pop star, they say.’

‘Something like that.’

‘Well, help yourself, Sergeant. Spend as long here as like.’

Cooper started to feel sorry for the officer. He’d done plenty of duties like this himself when he was in uniform. They could be mind-numbing.

‘Let us know if we can get you anything,’ he said.

‘A cold beer would be nice.’

‘DC Murfin might give you a wine gum.’

‘Oh, cheers.’

For the next few minutes, Cooper watched Barry Gamble going through something that resembled a pantomime rehearsal. He was such a bad actor that it was impossible to believe anything he said or did. But he hammed up it for his audience as if he was playing the Dame in Jack and the Beanstalk.

‘And I went “Ooh, what was that noise? I do hope there’s nothing wrong. I’d better go and have a look.” So I decided to walk this way a bit to see what the trouble was. And I saw – a light.’

Cooper glared at Villiers and Hurst as they tried to stifle laughter. The sound of a giggle only made Gamble act up more. His version of ‘walk this way’ became a cross between Danny La Rue and Captain Mainwaring from Dad’s Army. If you could look pompous and camp at the same time, Barry Gamble managed it. He marched purposefully towards the house, his arms waving in dramatic semaphores.

‘It was coming from this window here.’

Before they could stop him, Gamble had stepped towards the wall of the house and put his hand on the window pane. A flat hand, palm against the glass, all four fingers and thumb pressed on to the surface. That would leave a perfect set of prints.

‘Mr Gamble, please – I asked you not to touch anything.’

‘Oh, sorry.’

He took his hand away from the glass and looked at it, as if it might be possible to withdraw the touch of his fingers.

Cooper cursed quietly to himself. That was his own fault. He shouldn’t have allowed Gamble to get so close to anything.

‘I’m not sure that told us anything,’ said Villiers, after Gamble had been taken home. ‘But you’ve got your own methods, obviously.’

‘Details,’ said Cooper. ‘It’s the details.’

And that was true, very often. But as he drove out of Riddings and passed under the Devil’s Edge, he had the feeling that it wasn’t the case in this village. He was beginning to suspect that there was something right under his nose, but written in letters too big for him to see.

Everyone had been called back to West Street for a briefing. The air of expectation was tangible as the meeting room filled up. Was there some progress in inquiries in South Yorkshire, where a joint operation was targeting the Savages? Did they have a person of interest?