Текст книги "Black Dog"

Автор книги: Stephen Booth

Соавторы: Stephen Booth
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‘You've just missed the appeal by the Vernons'' said Matt.

‘Yeah? What was it like?’

`Stagey,' said Kate.

Cooper nodded. He slumped into an armchair and stared at the TV screen without seeing it. His mind was a whirl of anxieties. He wondered how he was going to face going back into work tomorrow. And how he was going to face the visit to the hospital in the afternoon' which he had arranged to take time off for —the visit when his mother would be out of sedation. He didn't realize that Kate was speaking to him for several seconds.

‘Sorry' what did you say?’

Are you all right' Ben?'

‘Yes' I'm fine.'

‘I was asking if you were in for the night now. I'll make some supper for later, if you are.’

He couldn't admit that he found the idea of staying in the farmhouse for any length of time unbearable. There was a constant urge to go up the stairs and open the door of his mother's room' knowing she wouldn't be there. An urge to relive the worst moments of her illness as if it was some penance he had to go through.

‘Er' no. I thought I might go out for a drink. Do you fancy coming' Matt?’

He didn't fail to see the quick squeeze that Kate gave to his brother's arm' which communicated her feelings sufficiently.

‘No' thanks' Ben. I'll stay in tonight. I'm getting up early in the morning to shoot some of those rabbits in the south field. Maybe tomorrow' eh?'

‘Fine.’

Cooper got in the car and drove automatically towards Edendale. There were a handful of pubs in town which he went to regularly. But on the outskirts of town' when he saw the familiar landscape of stone gables and slate roofs spread out before him in the dusk' he changed his mind. He turned the Toyota into a side road and went over the hill into Moorhay.

The village looked peaceful once more. There were no tourists to be seen on the street, and no noticeable police activity, only a line of green wheelie bins along the roadside. The residents had retreated again behind their doors' some of them clutching their individual secrets' he was sure.

He drew up a few yards short of Dial Cottage and sat in the car for a while watching the doorway. It might have been the confusing light of the growing dusk, or the stress of his experiences during the day' or just his secret hopes acting on his senses. But he felt as though he could see Helen Milner emerging from the door of the cottage' just as she had done that morning – a warm' living glow against the inner darkness. He remembered that fleeting expression of disappointment when she realized she was not the one he had come to see. He remembered Gwen Dickinson's words – 'She's been talking about you' you know.' Could that be true? Had Helen been thinking of him, as he had thought about her? Cooper repeated to himself the last few sentences that had been spoken between them. 'So aren't you a policeman all the time?' she had asked. 'What are you like when you're just being Ben Cooper?’

‘You'll have to find out one day' won't you?' And then finally she had said: 'Maybe I will.’

He turned the words over in his mind; assessing the tone of voice she had used' trying to recall the exact expression on her face' the precise movement of her head as she turned away, seeking the subtle meanings. There would be a day, he promised himself. Definitely there would be a day' one when he wasn't being a policeman. But not just now.

He started the Toyota and drove a hundred yards further along the road to pull up on the cobbles outside the Drover. Inside' the pub was busy for a Wednesday night. But in their usual corner were the three old men – Harry Dickinson' Wilford Cutts and Sam Beeley. Their heads turned as he came in and their eyes followed him to the bar. As he was ordering' he heard a comment from one of them produce a cackle of laughter. He felt his jaw clench' and the blood start to flow into his cheeks' but controlled himself with an effort. He was not going to let the old men wind him up.

The landlord' Kenny Lee' tried to make conversation' but sniffed and turned away when he was ignored. Having paid for his pint of Robinson's' Cooper walked over towards the table in the corner. The three old men watched him come' their eyes expectant, but their mouths tight shut. Harry stood up from his chair.

‘Looking for me?'

‘Not particularly. I just called in for a drink.’

Harry looked disappointed' and sat down again. Cooper looked round for a seat and found a worn wooden stool. He could feel them following his movements as he pulled the stool up to the table' sat down and took a long draught of his beer.

‘That's good stuff,' he said. 'I thought it would be. But I couldn't try it while I was on duty.’

The old men nodded cautiously. Sam coughed and offered him a cigarette, which Cooper refused politely. 'Not many tourists in tonight' then?'

‘It's Wednesday'' said Sam.

He sensed the unspoken messages passing between the three men in the flicking of their eyes and the tapping of their bony fingers on the table. They were like a group of poker players about to take the shirt off the back of a stranger in town. But Cooper wasn't interested in what they weren't telling him. Not just now.

He let a silence develop' waiting for the old men to break it. Normally they would probably sit together for hours without saying a word' if there was nothing much to say. But he was a guest at their table' and they were the hosts. He was banking on their courtesy.

‘How's it going, then?' asked Wilford at last. 'What's that?'

‘You know what' lad. The murder case.'

‘It's not'' said Cooper' and lifted his glass to his face again.

‘Eh?'

‘You've got suspects'' said Sam. 'You'll be questioning them. There'll be bright lights' the good copper and the bad copper. Wearing 'em down.’

Cooper shook his head. 'We can't do much of that these days. It's all the new regulations. They've got rights.'

‘Rights?'

‘Unless we've got enough evidence to charge them' we have to let them go.’

And haven't you? Got evidence?' asked Wilford. 'Not enough. Not by a long way.'

‘That's a shame.’

–

‘It's very discouraging. Sometimes you feel like giving up.’

Harry had said nothing so far. His eyes were fixed on Cooper as he spoke' watching his lips, studying his face as if trying to see behind his words.

‘It wasn't our fault about the pigs, lad.'

‘No' I know it wasn't.'

‘Did you get in trouble?' asked Wilford.

Cooper shrugged. 'I'll be very unpopular for a bit.’

‘It wasn't our fault,' echoed Sam.

‘We told you about the blood and bone.'

‘The heap rots 'em down' as long as they're not too big. Otherwise the knackerman charges you for taking 'em away.'

‘And you don't want to be paying the knackerman when you can dispose of 'em natural' like'' said Sam.

‘They weren't big enough for porkers yet' I suppose,' said Cooper.

‘No' no. Nowhere near. You couldn't have sold 'em.’

‘Funny thing about pigs' though'' said Wilford. 'Their skin is a lot like ours.'

‘It certainly gave those police mates of yours a fair turn'' said Sam' starting to smile again.

‘They thought they'd found a dead body or two,' said Cooper. 'For a while.'

‘Bloody hell' that doctor woman wasn't very pleased when she got there.'

‘The pathologist. That was a mistake.'

‘I've never heard language like it'' said Wilford. 'Not from a doctor.'

‘And a woman too.'

‘Do you know they get sunburnt' just like us?' asked Wilford. 'Pigs' I mean. You can't leave 'em out in hot sun. Those two had been inside' you see' out of the sun. That's why their skin was so clean.’

And white.’

Aye. Middle Whites, they were. Some folk like the old breeds' but the Whites grow better.’

Cooper closed his eyes' feeling the conversation running away from him already. Bizarrely' a memory popped into his mind of the slippery fish he used to try to catch by hand as a boy in the streams around Edendale. He knew they were there' lurking in the shady corners' and he could almost get his hands on them in the water. But it needed only a couple of wriggles and they were out of his grasp' every time. He suddenly felt utterly depressed' and wondered what on earth he had hoped to achieve by coming here tonight. He was totally in the wrong place. But he had no idea what the right place for him was just now.

He drained his glass and stood up wearily.

‘Off already?' asked Sam. 'Company not suit you?’

‘I'm wasting my time,' said Cooper' as he walked away towards the door.

Outside' the sky was still light and the evening was warm. He stood for a moment' breathing in the motionless air and looking up at the shape of Raven's Side, looming above the village. He remembered then that there was one place where he always felt he belonged. The door to the pub had been propped open to let out the heat' and he didn't hear anybody come up behind him. But he recognized the slow voice that spoke in his ear.

‘If you ask the right questions' you'll find out what you want to know.'

‘Oh yes? I'm not sure about that' Mr Dickinson. At the moment' it all seems pretty futile.’

Harry looked at him with sudden understanding. 'Fed up?'

‘You might say that.’

Ah. I reckon you've got the black dog' lad.'

‘What?'

‘That's what we used to say to the young 'uns when they were sulking or had a fit of temper. "The black dog's on your back'" we'd say. That's what's up with you' I reckon.’

Sulking? It was a long time since he had been accused of sulking. As if he was some temperamental adolescent. 'Yes' I've heard of it, thanks.'

‘Don't mention it' lad.’

Now the old man had explained the expression' Cooper remembered that he had heard it before. He could hear a faint echo of his own mother's voice chiding him for having the black dog. It was one of those mysterious expressions from childhood that you only half understood at the time. The black dog. Words with a frisson of meaning that had always worked on his imagination. Looking back' he had a feeling that the young Ben Cooper had pictured some huge' terrifying beast coming down from the moors' with red eyes and slavering jaws. The memory was confused now with the stories his Grandma Cooper had told' of the legendary Black Shuck and the Barguest – giant hounds with glowing eyes that waylaid unfortunate travellers on certain roads at night and took them straight to hell.

‘The black dog's on your back'' they said. It wasn't a very nice image. Once the picture had been planted in his mind' it had been difficult to get rid of. It had cropped up in his nightmares, waking him with snapping jaws and ferocious eyes. As a child' he would have done anything to get rid of that black dog from his back. Usually' his mother could help him do it. She could always cheer him up' and chivvy him out of a depressed mood.

Now' though' when the tables were turned' he was helpless to remove an immense black dog from his mother's back.

Harry looked at him sharply, suspicious at the silence. Cooper shook himself and stared back at the old man.

‘Well' I've got to go now' Mr Dickinson. Maybe I'll see you again.'

‘I don't doubt, lad.’

*

A few minutes later' Cooper was sitting on Raven's Side' looking across the dusk-filled valley towards Win Low.

He liked the names of the hills in this part of the Peak' with their resonances of the Danish invaders who had occupied Derbyshire for several decades. He had been taught at school that the Raven had been the symbol of Odin' the chief of the Viking gods. And the Danes had not been alone in investing the hills with supernatural powers.

On the far side of the valley' the last rays of the setting sun lit the western flanks of the Witches in blood-red streaks' highlighting them in melodramatic three-dimensional relief. At any moment' they might launch themselves into the air on their broomsticks. No wonder the ancient inhabitants of the valley had been in awe of them. The rocky gritstone outcrops were a brooding and malevolent presence at the best of times, their shapes black and ominous on the sunniest day. It would be easy for superstitious villagers to blame them for all sorts of evils and misfortunes.

Cooper was sitting close to where Gary Edwards must have stood with his binoculars on the night that Laura Vernon had been killed. The view extended from the back gardens of the cottages in Moorhay in one direction to the roof of the Old Mill at Quith Holes in the other, and down over the sweeping woodland to the meandering road far below in the valley bottom. The stream was invisible from here' and the trees were thick in the area where Laura's body had been found.

The last shreds of the evening light were playing tricks in the deeper patches of woodland' distorting the shadows and deadening the colours until the greens and browns merged into each other in a mesh of dark patches tinged with violet. The light was slanting almost vertically down from the hill' flattening out the perspective and reducing the woods to a two-dimensional landscape where colour meant nothing.

Cooper looked again at the summit of Win Low and the Witches. There was an ancient pack horse road crossing the tor' below the shadow of the twisted rocks. But it would be a brave traveller who went that way at night.

It was all too easy to imagine the black hounds of the legends prowling up there on the dark ridge' waiting to pounce.

And once the black dogs of hell were on your back' you could never shake them off.

20

‘Oh God'' said Superintendent Jepson. 'We'll never hear the end of it. This is the sort of thing the division will never live down. It'll be in the local press' the national tabloids' we'll make the joke item on the TV news. And for certain it'll be in the Police Review. We'll be the laughing stock of every force in the country. I can hear the jokes about us now. It'll go on for years. Years!’

The superintendent had DCI Tailby and DI Hitchens in his office before the morning briefing. They had faced the difficult task of explaining to the divisional commander why a dozen officers had been employed to dig up a giant compost heap' and why the pathologist had then been called to examine two dead pigs.

‘We could probably find something we could charge Cutts with'' said Hitchens. `To justify the exercise' so to speak.'

‘No' no' no. That would only make it worse. Let's just play it down and hope it passes over after a day or two. Has the press office been briefed?'

‘I did it last night'' said Tailby. 'They've got bare details, but after that they have to refer enquiries to me. I'll stonewall them.'

‘All right' Stewart, but I can't understand how it happened.'

‘Ben Cooper had one of his inspirations'' said Hitchens. Ah' young Cooper. We had that business with the Sherratt arrest too.'

‘It could have been a disaster if DC Fry hadn't been there.'

‘If Cooper had got himself shot . . .' Jepson shuddered. 'It would be a total public relations catastrophe. Nobody's forgotten what happened to his father.'

‘We can't afford that sort of incident, no matter how you look at it,' agreed Tailby.

Jepson turned to Hitchens. 'You keep your ear to the ground regarding the staff in your department, don't you' Paul?'

‘I try to' sir.'

‘You know we'll have to be making the decision on DS Osborne's replacement very soon. He signs off for good at the beginning of next month. DC Cooper was one we had in mind for the job' wasn't he?'

‘He was top of the shortlist'' said Hitchens. 'What's your view on that now?'

‘Frankly, he appears to be a touch emotionally unstable. He was very moody yesterday. All over something and nothing' as far as I can gather.'

‘This new DC' though. Fry . .

‘She's got better qualifications than Cooper. And she seems very stable' despite her past history.’

Jepson nodded seriously. Ah' the business in the West Midlands. Of course.’

A very nasty business'' said Tailby. 'But she's fine now' isn't she? Paul?’

A bit of a cold fish, but solid as a rock' sir. Totally in control, I'd say. Very professional. No ill effects, she says.'

‘You've actually discussed it with her?' asked Jepson. 'Yes, sir.'

‘Good man. That's excellent management. Good relations with the staff.’

According to her record' she had the standard counselling. There's a note that she packed the sessions in' though' after she split up with a boyfriend. Seems he couldn't handle it' but she could.'

‘I suppose that sort of experience can actually make someone a stronger person'' suggested Tailby.

Ah, that's right. Baptism of fire and all that. Add Diane Fry's name to the shortlist. Let's see how she shapes up in the interviews.'

‘Ben Cooper' though . . . He'd be a popular choice' sir.'

‘Mmm. Emotionally unstable' Paul says. I don't like the sound of that. Cooper's a bit too immature yet for a supervisory post' I think. It's a pity' though. A local lad' wonderful local knowledge. Dedicated' hard-working' bright.'

‘It's not enough'' said Hitchens.

Jepson sighed. 'You're probably right. Do I take it we're agreed DC Cooper is not an option to replace Osborne?' He waited while the others nodded. 'In that case' it'd better be done quickly. I'll see him this morning during the briefing and break the news. I'll jolly him along a bit' try to soften the blow. Suggest a bit of lateral development.’

The three men sat for a moment' calmly assessing a job well done. Jepson stirred and sat upright' signalling a change of subject.

‘What's the progress on the Vernon enquiry, then? Stewart?'

‘We don't need to expend extra resources at this stage' sir. I expect forensic results today. They could wrap the enquiry up, I think.'

‘You've got two possibles' haven't you?'

‘I'm confident forensics will tie in either Lee Sherratt or the boyfriend' Simeon Holmes'' said Tailby. 'That will be the breakthrough we need. We could be making an arrest soon.'

‘That sounds like a good press release'' said Jepson hopefully. 'If we can get that out to the media today' they might forget about the pigs.'

‘I remain hopeful'' said Tailby.

*

Harry Dickinson was wearing his black-framed bifocals' which made his eyes look distorted and out of proportion' like smooth stones lying in deep water.

And I tell you what' lass. If you see that young copper again' you can tell him if his mates are going to try to blame the Sherratt boy' they're wasting their time.’

Helen Milner had done some shopping for her grandmother the night before at Somerfield's in Edendale. Things were much cheaper there than in the little village shop. Normally Gwen would be willing to catch the Hulley's bus from the stop near the pub for the journey into town for the sake of the money she would save from her pension. But this week she had refused to do the journey' worrying about what the other women would say to her on the bus' believing that the shop assistants would talk about her behind her back' that the checkout girls would refuse to serve her. Nothing Helen could say would persuade her she was imagining things. At times' she could be just as stubborn as Harry.

‘He was the gardener at the Mount, but Graham Vernon sacked him'' she said.

‘Lee Sherratt? He was never a gardener. He can hump a wheelbarrow' but he knows nothing.'

‘They say he had a fancy for Laura.'

‘That's as maybe. It means nowt.’

Helen slotted tins of peas and new potatoes into the kitchen cupboards' glancing sideways out of the window' where she could see Gwen pottering in the garden' carefully deadheading roses with a pair of secateurs. She looked frail and unsteady on her feet' her skin translucent in the morning light angling from above Win Low.

‘Have you talked to Grandma yet?’

Harry was deep in his morning paper. Unlike many of the men his age' who preferred the sports coverage and sensational headlines of the tabloids' Harry took the Guardian. He said he liked to know what was really going on in the world. 'All this stuff about TV celebrities and royal hangers-on. That means nowt to me'' he would say.

‘What should I talk to her about' then?’

‘She's upset.'

‘When isn't she? The woman's got neurotic in her old age.'

‘Granddad' she's very worried. She thinks you're in trouble with the police. You have to reassure her. She won't listen to anyone else.’

Ah' they're all talking about me' aren't they?' said Harry.

‘They'll talk. But nobody believes you're involved.’

‘Why not' then?' he demanded.

Helen waved her hand' stumped for an explanation when challenged. 'Well —'

‘Aye' I know. It's because I'm old. You're just like them coppers. They haven't questioned me' you know. Not properly' not like they ought to have done' seeing as I found the body. They think I can't have done it' you see. Because I'm old. Well' they're wrong, and you're wrong too.'

‘Don't be silly, Granddad. We know you didn't do it. Obviously.'

‘Oh aye. Obviously.'

‘Grandma knows. And Mum and Dad and me' we know that you've done nothing wrong. We would know – we're your family.'

‘And that's it? Just the few of you and no more?' Helen felt a chill at his dismissive tone. 'Your family has always meant a lot to you. You know it has.' Harry sighed and folded his paper.

‘Well' hasn't it?'

‘Of course it has' lass. But there are other things as strong as family. Stronger even. Women can't see it' because they're made different – family, that's everything for them. But there are other things. Friendship. When you've had a bloke at your back that you trust with your life' and he trusts you the same' that's different. That's a bond you can't break, not for anybody. You get so as you would do anything not to betray that trust' lass. Anything.’

Harry was looking Helen in the face' a look deep in his eye that was almost appealing' asking for her help. And she did want to help him' but she didn't know how to. She waited for Harry to explain what he meant.

But he stared at the front page of the newspaper' where a picture of Central African refugees with desperate eyes stared back at him.

‘You'd kill to help that sort of friend'' he said.

*

Ben Cooper sighted along the barrels' shifted his grip on the wooden stock and breathed in the scent of the gun oil as his fingers felt gently for the trigger. The shotgun fitted snugly into his shoulder' and the weight of the double barrels swung smoothly as he turned his body to test their balance. With that effortless movement came an eagerness to see the target in his sights, a desire for the kick and cough of the cartridge. He was ready.

‘Pull!’

The trap snapped and a clay flashed across his line of vision. As if of their own accord' the barrels swung up and to the right to follow its trajectory' and his finger squeezed. The clay shattered into fragments that curved towards the ground.

‘Pull!’

The second clay flickered overhead. Cooper carefully increased the pressure on the trigger' timing the extra squeeze as the target's line steadied and the clay shattered like the first.

‘What do you think of it' Ben?'

‘Nice'' he said' lowering the shotgun and breaking it open. He laid the gun across the bonnet of the Land Rover' and his brother walked across from the trap gun they used for practising. Matt was six years older than Ben' with the barrel chest and well-muscled shoulders and torso of a working farmer. He had the same fine light-brown hair and chose to hide his receding hairline under a green tractor driver's cap with a long peak like a baseball cap and the words 'John Deere' on the front.

‘Those were two good shots' Ben. Who were you picturing when you hit the clays?'

‘What?'

‘From the expression on your face' you had someone you really hate in your sights. Did it help to let it out?’

‘Yes' a bit.’

Matt studied his younger brother. 'It's really getting you down' isn't it? We don't often see you like this. We will get Mum sorted out' you know. Wait till you see her this afternoon – I bet she'll be more like her old self' and you'll feel a whole lot better about it.'

‘Maybe' Matt. But it isn't only that.'

‘Oh. Woman trouble' by any chance? Not Helen Milner' is it?’

Cooper stared at his brother in amazement. 'What makes you say that?'

‘It's obvious you must have bumped into her on this Vernon case. I put two and two together when I read about it in the paper. Her dad works for Graham Vernon' doesn't he? And the old man' Harry Dickinson – that would be her grandfather' right? If you've been hanging around there' I guessed you must have renewed old acquaintances.’

Matt grinned as his brother looked at him' lost for words. 'What do you reckon, then? Should I have been a detective?'

‘I don't know how you worked all that out.'

‘Mmm. Helen Milner' eh? I always thought she had a bit of a thing about you' little brother, a few years back.' All water under the bridge. She's different now. You should see her.'

‘Oh' but I have seen her. She's a teacher at Amy and Josie's school now. We talked to her at a parents' evening not so long ago. I hate to give away my secrets' but that's how I know about her dad and all that. We talked for quite a long while' actually. Some of it was about old times' some about the Vernons too.'

‘Well then. You know what she looks like. She's probably got half a dozen blokes she's sleeping with. Why should she bother with me?'

‘Do I detect a hint of bitterness? Is it a case of a heifer in heat and too many bulls to choose from?'

‘People aren't like cattle' Matt.'

‘It'd be better if they were sometimes. Come to think of it' it's a pity you can't put raddle on people like you do on rams' then you'd know straightaway who was tupping who.’

Matt looked at his brother expectantly' raising his eyebrows, but saw he hadn't even raised a smile.

‘But there's more still' isn't there? Problems at work' is it?'

‘Yeah' you're right. I've made a couple of bad cock-ups in the last few days.'

‘They'll understand you're under a lot of stress' though, won't they?’

Cooper fished the keys of the Toyota out of his pocket and looked at his watch. It was past the time he should have been setting off for Edendale to start his shift. But the chance to try Matt's new shotgun had been too much of a temptation.

‘You've told your bosses about Mum' haven't you?’

‘No' I didn't think they needed to know.'

‘But you have got time off this morning to go to the hospital?'

‘I just told them I had a doctor's appointment.’

‘Bloody hell. They probably think you're going to see a psychiatrist or something, the way you've been these last few days.'

‘I'd rather keep the police force out of Mum's life, that's all.'

‘I see. Things are a bit bad' then.’

Cooper sighed. 'Let's put it this way – I'd much rather stay here shooting rabbits with you' Matt' than go into the office this morning.’

Matt walked back with his brother to his car' parked in the crewyard. 'I take it the Vernon case isn't sorted out yet, then?'

‘It feels as though it's running into the ground' Matt. We always dash round like mad at the beginning' of course. We collect masses of information' do dozens of witness interviews, house-to-house surveys and TIE enquiries' getting background detail. God' there's so much in the computer after the first few days. Usually you get some clear lines of enquiry opening up that you can follow. But sometimes every one seems to be a blind alley and you get nowhere. Once a murder enquiry stalls, you can be looking at months and months before you get a result. If ever.’

And this is one of those, is it' Ben?’

Cooper paused with his hand on the car door. 'I don't know' Matt. Maybe it's just me. But don't you ever get the feeling that you've been banging your head against a brick wall and didn't realize it?'

‘It's a tragedy about the young girl. There's a bloke somewhere who shouldn't be running round loose.’

‘That's what keeps us going' I suppose.’

He got into the driver's seat and lowered the windows. The interior of the car was already warm' though the morning had hardly begun.

Matt rested a brawny forearm on the door. 'Still' the Vernons are no example to anybody' are they?’

‘They're not my idea of good company.'

‘More than that'' said Matt. 'They create trouble for themselves' with what they get up to. Those orgies and things up there. I'm all for a bit of fun' but that's just sick.’

Cooper looked at his brother' frowning, wondering what on earth he was talking about.

‘Oh' I see. Well' if you don't believe me'' said Matt’

‘you just ask Helen Milner.'

*

By the time Cooper reached the outskirts of Edendale' he knew he was going to be late for the second time in a week. Another black mark. But he found he didn't really care. There was a dull pain throbbing at the front of his head' just behind his eyes, like the warning of an approaching thunderstorm.

At eight o'clock in the morning it seemed as though every few yards along the road there was someone clutching a dog lead. Their pets were nose down in every clump of grass' stopping to examine every lamppost and tree. It would be a rash murderer who tried to hide a body in this neighbourhood. The search parties were out permanently.

The first person he saw on the second floor of Divisional HQ was Diane Fry. She was heading for the briefing room with three other DCs. They were laughing at something' and Cooper began to flush immediately' not doubting that it was him they were laughing at. Fry, though, saw him coming and stopped to let him catch up.

‘You're late again' Ben. You'll be up on a charge if you're not careful.'

‘Doesn't matter'' he said. 'Have a good trip to Yorkshire?’

‘Not particularly. I'd rather have been here.’

‘Waste of time' then?'

‘Yes, as a matter of fact. There was no need for anyone to go, let alone two of us.’

Cooper sneered before he could stop himself. 'What a surprise. Still, I suppose you had a good time together.' Fry's nostrils flared. 'I don't know what you're getting at' but I'll ignore it just this once.’

He inclined his head' his shoulders slumping. 'Sorry' Diane. I shouldn't have said that.’

Are you all right, Ben? You've got some funny ideas' but you've managed to restrain yourself from the snide comments so far.'

‘Yeah. I'm fine. It's this endless heat' it's wearing me out.'

‘Only I've been hearing something about some pigs . . 'Yeah' yeah' don't tell me.’

He saw Fry studying him. Her eyes travelled from his dull eyes to his hastily combed hair and down to his badly shaved cheeks, his crumpled shirt. He was suddenly aware of the smell of stale sweat from his body' and the way his hand shook when he rubbed his temples where the pain was beginning to throb again.