Стивен Бут - Blind to the Bones

‘Yes, I heard about him. He used to come in here with the others.’

‘The others?’

‘His family. Friends. You know.’

‘You heard he was killed?’

‘Yes, very sad.’

‘He was in here on the Friday evening, a few hours before he died,’ said Cooper.

‘Yes, that would be right.’

‘Did he seem any different from usual?’

‘Not at all. Though he left a bit earlier than the others.’

‘There was a rehearsal that night.’

‘Yes,’ said the landlord cautiously.

‘Just a minute — is that what’s going on up there tonight?’

‘Happen.’

‘What do they call it?’

‘The Border Rats.’

‘What sort of thing is that? It sounds very noisy.’

‘They’re a bit secretive about it. Nobody’s supposed to know until they do the performance.’

‘Oh? And when is that?’

‘Next weekend. May Day bank holiday.’

‘I saw the Reverend Alton come in.’

‘Did he?’ said the landlord, surprised. ‘Well, now.’

‘And little Jake Oxley.’

‘Yes, he’ll be with his dad and his brothers.’

‘Can I go up and see what they’re doing?’

‘No, I’m sorry. Like I say, it’s all confidential. They’ve booked a private room, and that’s that. I can’t let anyone in.’

‘You know I’m a police officer?’

‘Yes, I know that,’ said the landlord, and began to polish some more glasses. ‘Did you want another drink?’

In one of the bottles lined up on the optics, Cooper glimpsed a twisted shape that appeared over the shoulder of his own reflection. It looked like a head and face, but the strange thing was that it seemed to be black and shiny, and the only features he could make out clearly were the eyes. He waited, hoping the person would move into his field of vision. But instead it vanished into the distortion caused by the curve of the bottle, and then it was gone. Cooper turned, but was too late to see anyone. From the direction of the reflection and the background he had been able to see in the bottle, he guessed the person must have been standing right over by the door that said ‘Toilets’.

He walked over and looked at the door that led upstairs. There was a sign on the handle, and the door didn’t move when he turned the handle carefully.

Cooper looked at his watch. He was due at Fran Oxley’s in five minutes, and he daren’t be late. He couldn’t risk losing the first chance he’d had to talk to one of the Oxleys. Pity. He would have liked to hang around a bit longer.

He was halfway across the road to Waterloo Terrace when the noise hit him. Cooper stopped in amazement and turned to look at the pub. It was the first time he had heard the screaming.

Neil Granger had been rehearsing for something the night before he’d been killed. And Emma Renshaw had been a member of the same group two years ago, according to her parents. But what was it all about?

Cooper hesitated, remembering that Diane Fry was in the Black Country with Gavin Murfin. Then he rang her mobile number anyway.

‘Diane, what was the play that Neil Granger was supposed to be rehearsing for?’

‘Something called The Border Rats ,’ she said.

‘What’s that?’

‘I’ve no idea. Why?’

‘I’m outside the pub in Withens now. The landlord’s a bit coy, but it sounds like they’re rehearsing again. And I’ve never heard anything so noisy in my life.’

‘What do you mean? Is it a musical?’

‘There seems to be music, but no singing. Just stamping and banging.’

‘Something modern and avant-garde, then.’

‘In Withens? Are you kidding?’

‘Call in and see what they’re doing.’

‘I’ve tried, but the door’s locked, and there’s a sign that says “private function”.’

‘Oh, well. I don’t see that it really matters.’

‘I’d like to hang on until they come out, and find out what it is. But I’m supposed to be at Fran Oxley’s in a few minutes. It could be my only chance ever to speak to an Oxley and get a reply.’

‘You can ask somebody another time.’

‘I suppose so. But won’t we be interviewing the other members of the cast and the stage crew? Maybe someone noticed something wrong, or Granger said something to them.’

‘We’ll get round to that, if necessary. But his brother was there, too, and he says Neil was fine when he left. I really don’t see that it matters.’

‘Maybe not. I’m just curious.’

‘Anyway, it isn’t a priority at the moment, if at all,’ said Fry. ‘We’re concentrating on the weapon, the forensic evidence at the scene, and the contents of the car. We’re working on a theory that Granger had an argument with one or more of his associates in the antiques gang. We think they had either had just done a job, or were making some arrangements for disposal of the stolen items.’

‘We?’ said Cooper. ‘This is DCI Kessen’s theory?’

‘He’s SIO. In Mr Kessen’s assessment, that’s likely to be the most fruitful line of enquiry and therefore the best uses of resources — which, as usual, are insufficient.’

‘Well, if he thinks he can justify his decision in the Murder Book,’ said Cooper, thinking of the log that the Senior Investigating Officer had to complete meticulously, in case he was ever challenged on a decision in court.

‘Well, your friends in the Rural Crime Team are sharing their leads on the antiques thefts, so no doubt we’ll be picking a few people up for questioning. With a bit of luck, they won’t have thought to dispose of the clothes they were wearing, and we’ll get a DNA match from Neil Granger’s blood. They’re bound to have got blood on them somewhere, if only their shoes. Those head wounds of his bled profusely.’

‘And there’s the bronze bust, of course.’

‘Absolutely. That has to have been their big mistake. Maybe they didn’t know Granger had it in his car. There are no fingerprints on it, but it’s distinctive, so we’ll almost certainly be able to trace it to an owner. If we locate other items from the same property in somebody’s possession, we’re laughing. Yes, this one could be over bar the shouting within forty-eight hours, just the way we like them. Then you can go back to rural crime, Ben.’

‘And you can go back to the Renshaws.’

‘Yeah, thanks.’

‘I suppose the possibility of a link to Emma Renshaw isn’t a high priority either?’ said Cooper.

‘Lowest of the low, I’d say. We don’t even want to think about going down that route. Apart from the fact that they knew each other, where’s the link anyway?’

‘Apart from her mobile phone having turned up just now?’

‘Coincidence. The best bet there is that somebody found the bag and grabbed it, thinking it might be something worth nicking. When they realized it wasn’t, they dumped it again. Originally, it could have been anywhere. The laboratory might be able to give us something more specific, but we’ll be lucky. If some thieving little sod with a record has left his prints on the phone, he’s in for a rough time, sure enough. But the most we’re going to get is the original dump site for the phone.’

‘Emma’s body could be in the same area,’ said Cooper.

Fry was silent for a moment. He knew she hadn’t overlooked that fact, but was choosing not to consider it for now. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ she said. ‘Was there anything else, Ben? Only Gavin wants to get on with some interviews. You know what he’s like for dedication to the job.’

‘Diane, I have one more chance with the Oxleys tonight, when I’m seeing Fran. But if I’m still having difficulties tomorrow, would you help me?’

‘Yes.’

‘I mean, if I go up there much more often, they’re going to start complaining about harassment. My options are getting increasingly limited. We have no grounds for bringing any of them in for questioning.’