Dead And Buried

‘Luckily,’ said Mackenzie, ‘a complete forensic sweep of the cottage was done at the time. No sign of a break-in, or of any violence taking place there. But after some work by the lab, they did manage to obtain enough DNA from tooth-brushes, used clothing, follicles on hairbrushes and so on to build DNA profiles for the victims. I mean, for David and Trisha Pearson, of course.’

‘If they are victims.’

‘Absolutely. Meanwhile,’ Mackenzie looked towards Fry, ‘we’ll also be concentrating on making some early progress on the fresh incident. Let’s see if we can confirm a connection between the two.’

There was a hesitant murmur of agreement.

Mackenzie cast his eye round the room. ‘Everyone up to speed? Good. Form your teams. There’s a lot of work to do.’

Cooper looked round in amazement as the meeting broke up. He caught DI Hitchens by the arm as he passed on his way to the door.

‘Wait a minute,’ said Cooper. ‘The body at the pub?’

Hitchens nodded towards the front of the room, where Fry had her head down talking to DCI Mackenzie.

‘Sorry, Ben,’ he said. ‘EMSOU — MC are keeping that to themselves.’

A few minutes later, Villiers turned to Cooper with a puzzled expression.

‘What did he mean about the wrong kind of wheels on the snow?’ she said.

‘Oh, that?’ Cooper smiled. ‘The dog handlers in Derbyshire are equipped with adapted Vauxhall Zafiras, which are underpowered anyway. They’re also front-wheel drive, and with all the weight of equipment and dogs at the back, they don’t go anywhere in snow.’

‘So what happens?’

‘Well, for four or five weeks in the average winter, our handlers are reduced to operating on foot, or begging a lift from a traffic officer in a four-wheel drive. Not many of the traffic boys like the idea of having a salivating long-haired German Shepherd sitting behind them on the back seat of the car, though.’

‘I can’t blame them really,’ said Villiers.

‘You don’t like dogs?’ asked Cooper in surprise. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d got an idea in his mind that Carol was a dog person. Horses, dogs, anything related to the outdoors.

‘Not when they remind me too much of a wolf,’ said Villiers.

Hitchens took Cooper aside for a moment.

‘Ben, Mr Mackenzie has asked us for a DC to work with DS Fry. Short term, of course.’

‘One of ours?’ said Cooper.

‘Yes. Who would you suggest?’

Cooper ran quickly through his team in his mind, dismissing Gavin Murfin immediately, following him closely with Luke Irvine. Fry would eat Irvine alive. Carol Villiers, or Becky Hurst? Both could cope with the assignment, and one of them would benefit from it tremendously.

‘DC Hurst,’ he said. ‘Shall I tell her?’

Hitchens nodded. ‘Yes, Ben. Good choice. And someone needs to liaise with the firefighters. Find out exactly what they saw.’

Cooper looked round. ‘Gavin, can you do that?’

‘I dare say it’s within my capabilities.’

Cooper turned as the DI left, and saw Fry scooping up the photos of the Pearsons. Murfin gave her a mock bow as he moved out of her way.

Fry nodded at him brusquely. ‘Gavin.’

‘Don’t mind me,’ he said. ‘I won’t be in the way. I’m off to talk to Trumpton.’

Fry turned to Cooper with a raised eyebrow.

‘Trumpton?’ she said. ‘Do police officers still talk like that in the middle of the twenty-first century?’

‘I didn’t hear it,’ said Cooper.

‘I see.’

In fact, it was the first time he’d ever heard Murfin use that expression, though it had been common at one time as a derogatory reference to the fire service. The children’s TV series had, after all, finished decades ago. He hoped Murfin wouldn’t address the Edendale crew as Captain Flack, or Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub.

Murfin was proving difficult enough these days, but Cooper had never been able to figure out Diane Fry. Never. And he didn’t think that was ever going to change now.

When she’d gone back to Birmingham to resolve the issues that had been haunting her for years, he’d imagined there might be some kind of closure for her, that she would be able to put the past behind her and start living a more normal life. Yet still he sensed a dark shadow in her life, one whose cause he couldn’t even guess at. She was far too complex for him to comprehend, and he was past the point where he wanted to keep trying. It was like grasping at smoke and expecting it to stay in one place. No matter what you did, or how hard you tried, it always slipped through your fingers and left you holding nothing.

‘Wait,’ said Cooper. ‘Diane, could you let me see those photographs again?’

Fry looked at him curiously for a moment, but flipped open the file. Cooper could sense her watching him closely. She had never known quite what to expect of him, but he couldn’t blame her. Right now, he didn’t know what to expect of himself.