Stephen Booth - The Devil’s Edge

A local man is in custody and will be questioned by the police during the day. Inquiries are ongoing to determine the circumstances around the incident, and anyone who has any information that would help the police…

Cooper switched off the radio. He didn’t want to hear any more. Please, no interviews with the victims’ family, the nosy neighbours, or the spurious pundits who were always dragged out to discuss a subject they knew nothing about.

He turned things over and over in his head. What should he do? Who could he turn to? He knew he needed to talk to someone about Matt, and tell them things they might not know, before the situation went too far. Before there was no going back.

Obviously, Diane Fry was the last person he wanted to speak to, especially about a situation like this. He shouldn’t actually speak to any officer involved in the inquiry. He ought to go through his own DI, and hope that information would filter through.

Meanwhile, there was still the family to consider. Kate was still at her sister’s with the girls. So at least he wouldn’t have to face that prospect yet – the accusing stares and the even more unnerving silences. Because he was completely sure that Amy and Josie would blame him for what had happened to Matt. After all, it was the police who had taken their father away. And Uncle Ben was the police. Simple.

The trouble was, he could sympathise with that view. At times like these, it was helpful to choose simple logic when deciding who to blame. Everyone would be taking sides, one way or another. All convinced they were right, and refusing to accept any contrary argument – even if they knew nothing about the case. A simple black or white. If only everything in life was so clear-cut.

A couple of neighbours had agreed to look after the livestock at Bridge End for the time being. There were plenty of farmers who owed Matt a favour. And there was no doubt which side of the argument they fell on. Any one of them would have done the same, they said. Simple.

Cooper pictured Bridge End Farm full of strangers, picking over the lives of his family. He imagined Diane Fry, who knew more about him and his family than was really good in the circumstances. He tried to remember what he might have told her over the past few years, whether he’d been too honest.

Yes, Diane Fry was the last person he wanted to speak to.

Cooper picked up his phone and dialled.

‘Diane? It’s me. Yes, I know. But don’t hang up, please.’

Fry was standing by the back door of the farmhouse when Cooper rang. Even without his name coming up on her screen, she would have recognised his mobile number straight away. They had called each so often when they worked together.

She hesitated with her finger over the reject call button. He shouldn’t be phoning her, not now. He shouldn’t be trying to influence the inquiry. Proper procedures had to be followed, a complete forensic examination of the scene and interviews with witnesses. She mustn’t let Cooper try to put preconceptions in her mind.

Fry looked up to see where the DCI was. She felt sure he was somewhere in the house, perhaps upstairs checking the view from the bedroom window where Kate Cooper had been. One of his DCs was in the yard, watching the forensic team at work.

She pressed a button. ‘Ben, you shouldn’t be calling. Give me one good reason why I should talk to you.’

‘You won’t understand the evidence,’ he said.

‘Won’t understand? Who do you think you’re talking to?’ Fry saw the DC glance towards her. With an effort, she lowered her voice. ‘Ben, this is wrong.’

Cooper heard the warning tone, but wasn’t deterred. He tried to get the words out as quickly as possible while he had the chance.

‘Did they find any cartridge cases or wads at the scene?’ he said.

‘Not so far.’

‘Foxes were Matt’s main worry. They’re getting overconfident these days since the hunting ban, so he often gets close to them. He would have gone for cartridges with a big load, and big pellets. Something like Express Super Game firing number one shot. It makes for a humane kill.’

‘Express Super Game? Yes, they found an opened box of those in his gun cabinet.’

‘You see? He was never planning to shoot a person. It wouldn’t have crossed his mind.’

‘But if he’s disposed of the cases and the wad…’

‘The only people who leave their cartridge cases on the floor are those who can afford to employ someone else to pick them up. And plastic wads can be lethal to livestock if they fall on grazing land. So Matt would automatically pick up the cartridge case and the wad. I don’t care what else happened, he would have picked them up. Didn’t he tell you that?’

‘He’s been telling his interviewers that he can’t remember. He doesn’t seem to be able to remember much at all, if he’s telling the truth.’

Cooper bit his lip, holding back the automatic response. There was no point in saying that of course his brother was telling the truth. Matt was a man incapable of lying. He wouldn’t know how to start, even to save himself. But the inquiry team had to find that out for themselves. Hearing it from his brother would only prejudice them against the idea. It was all about balance and fairness.

His emotions told him it wasn’t fair at all. But his training told him this was the way it had to be.

‘I’m telling you, Diane, he picked up the cartridge case and the wad. He wouldn’t even have been thinking about it. He would do it instinctively. You’ll find them in his pocket. And another thing…’

‘No, stop.’

‘Matt had been called away to deal with some stray sheep last night, and he hadn’t finished washing the yard. He would have left the job until morning. No choice, really.’

‘It doesn’t…’

‘Think about it, Diane. Just think about it. That’s all I ask.’ As he ended the call, Cooper heard the echo of desperation in his own voice, and wondered what Fry had made of it. Probably she would treat his call with nothing but contempt. But he had to try.

DI Hitchens met him at the top of the stairs in West Street, no doubt having been alerted by someone that Cooper was on his way up.

‘Ben, I know how difficult this must be for you,’ he said. ‘You’ve got to take some time off. Go home and support your family. Everybody will understand.’

Cooper hesitated only for a moment.

‘Thank you, sir. But no. The division is too short-staffed as it is, with everything that’s happening right now.’

‘We’d cope without you for a while. Seriously, Ben.’

‘No, it’s fine. I’ll stick with the job.’

Hitchens frowned a little now. ‘Okay. Well, it’s your decision. If you’ve got work to clear up, do it. But stay away from your brother’s case.’

‘I-’

The DI held up a hand. ‘I know – you’ll tell me that goes without saying. But I have to say it anyway. It’s important, Ben. Important for everyone concerned, I mean. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, I understand. There is one thing I’d like to ask, sir.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘I’d like permission to interview Sarah Holland again.’

Hitchens opened his mouth to refuse, but hesitated. Cooper knew that if he’d asked Superintendent Branagh, the refusal would have been immediate. But the DI was a different matter. They’d worked together for a long time, and Hitchens had surely learned by now that Cooper’s instincts could often be trusted.

Nevertheless, Cooper kept his fingers crossed out of sight until Hitchens answered.

‘Okay, Ben. In a day or two, yes? And do it sensitively. Who will you take with you?’

‘Carol Villiers.’

The DI nodded. ‘Are you happy with her?’