Стивен Бут - Blind to the Bones

‘And did he take over directly from his predecessor?’

‘No, there was an inter-regnum.’

‘A what?’

‘A period of time between incumbents. It happens all too often these days, due to a shortage of clergy. It can take some time to find the right person for the parish.’

‘Particularly in Withens and Hey Bridge, perhaps?’

‘There are certain challenging elements to the post.’

‘How long was the parish vacant?’

‘I believe it was twelve months or so. The previous incumbent fell seriously ill and had to retire, poor man.’

‘We’re going to have to speak to him.’ ‘I’m afraid not.’

‘It’s going to be very important to establish when an opportunity might have occurred for a body to be buried in the churchyard. The previous vicar might be able to cast some light on that for us.’

‘Possibly. But I’m afraid poor Reverend Clater retired because he discovered he had advanced prostate cancer. There was nothing they could do for him. He died last year.’

‘Hell.’

‘Let’s hope not,’ said the Dean with a sad smile. Fry stared at him, puzzled.

‘And no one looked after St Asaph’s during this inter-regnum?’

‘There were services here, but they were conducted by visiting clergy from other parishes. Sometimes by a retired priest who lives in Glossop. There was no continuity, I’m afraid.’

‘And the churchwardens don’t seem to have put too much effort into caring for the churchyard.’

‘Sadly not. But I’m afraid it’s difficult motivating people for that kind of thing.’

‘Mr Alton is in the church. I’m sure he’d be pleased to see you.’

‘Thank you.’

Ben Cooper found his name called as soon as he got outside the church.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Oh, Mr Dearden — nothing to concern you, sir.’

‘It is, if it’s something to do with the church. I’m a churchwarden. Is Derek all right?’

‘Mr Alton is a bit shaken, but he’s all right.’

‘What have they done now?’

‘Who?’

‘The Oxleys. Is it that little beggar, Jake? He’s the one who likes setting fires, you know, but nobody has been able touch him because he isn’t ten years old yet. So many times I’ve heard politicians say that no one is beyond the law. It’s repeated like a mantra, as if it’s supposed to reassure us, just in itself. But it isn’t true, is it? A child under ten can’t be considered guilty of any criminal offence, no matter what they’ve done. Children are beyond the law.’

Cooper thought about Craig Oxley, who had hanged himself in a cell at Hindley young offenders’ institution. Where was the middle ground between those who thought young people should be locked up at whatever age they offended, and others who believed they should never be locked up at all? There were few other options. Youngsters below the age of criminal responsibility could be the subject of care proceedings, which would most likely result in them being taken away from their parents. But once they reached the age of ten, they became criminals. There was no longer even that grey area between ten and fourteen, when it had to be proved beyond reasonable doubt that the child understood what he was doing and knew that it was seriously wrong. The presumption in their favour had been abolished by new legislation nearly five years previously.

Michael Dearden was watching him, and maybe he thought that he read a degree of sympathy in Cooper’s expression.

‘I read a while ago,’ said Dearden, ‘that the government was planning to lock up people like paedophiles before they did anything wrong, because they could tell from their profiles that they were likely to commit an offence.’

‘Yes, I heard that.’

‘And then I read the statistics that nearly 70 per cent of crimes in this country are committed by juveniles. And straight away I thought: “Well, there’s your answer to the rising crime rate.”’

‘What answer is that, Mr Dearden?’

‘It’s obvious. You lock up all the kids, before they do anything. That way, you’d reduce the crime rate by two thirds at a single stroke. Well, you would, wouldn’t you?’

Cooper tried to marshal a logical argument. Then he decided it wasn’t worthwhile.

‘You can’t argue with the facts,’ said Dearden.

‘Mr Dearden, I don’t think it’s the Oxleys who have been targeting your property.’

‘Rubbish. Two of the Oxleys were caught and prosecuted. They had broken into one of my outbuildings and stolen gardening tools and weedkiller.’

‘Yes, I know. Ryan and Sean. But that was over a year ago.’

‘I’ve seen them hanging around here plenty of times.’

‘Since the court case?’

‘Yes. Well, no. Not to actually see them. But I know it’s them, still. They’re just a bit more careful not to get caught now. They’ve learned to be cleverer criminals — that’s all the court system has done for them, and me. Since they were taken to court, all they want to do is get revenge on me.’

‘We think it’s more likely that you’ve been targeted by a gang of antiques thieves than that you’re still being troubled by the Oxleys, Mr Dearden. We think Mr Oxley has stopped all that now.’

‘But who else would it be?’

‘I don’t know. But there’s no evidence it’s the Oxleys.’

‘It wouldn’t be hard to find some evidence. I’ve told your people no end of times, you’d only have to raid those houses in Waterloo Terrace, and you’d come away with a rare stash of stolen goods. And I know you could do it, if you wanted to. You did at Hey Bridge the other morning.’

‘That operation was based on extensive intelligence.’

‘Intelligence?’ Dearden laughed. ‘Well, that counts me out, then. Obviously, I don’t have the intelligence to see what’s in front of my face. It’s no wonder you lot take no notice of me. I’m just a silly old bugger who’s imagining things, as far as you’re concerned.’

‘I’m sure that’s not the case, sir.’

‘But I’m sure you’d soon sit up and take notice of me if I decided to do something about these break-ins myself, wouldn’t you?’

Cooper looked at him more closely, and noticed the challenging stare and the slightly wobbly smile.

‘Do what, exactly?’ he said.

‘Oh, that would be telling. But I’ve got something in mind that would put the wind up the Oxleys once and for all.’

‘That wouldn’t be a sensible thing to do, sir,’ said Cooper. ‘I’d have to advise you against any unilateral action.’

‘Exactly,’ said Dearden triumphantly. ‘I knew whose side you’d be on.’

‘Mr Dearden—’

But Michael Dearden was no longer listening. He got back into his pick-up, revved the engine and spun his wheels as he headed out of Withens. Cooper watched him as he climbed up Dead Edge and crashed his gears as he drove back over the border.

Cooper frowned. Derek Alton had said that Dearden avoided driving through Withens because he dreaded seeing the Oxleys in the road in front of Waterloo Terrace, as he had the day he’d knocked down and injured Jake. That might be so. But Cooper could detect no guilt in Michael Dearden. At least, not about what had happened to Jake Oxley.

Further up the village, over the bridge, Cooper could see the supports being set up for the well-dressing boards opposite Waterloo Terrace. The well consisted of a stone trough full of clear water that Cooper knew would be ice cold, though there was no obvious source for it.

But he noticed there was another well near the church. It had water bubbling into it from the wall behind, but it looked abandoned, and it wasn’t being prepared for dressing like the one further up the village.