Cooper and Fry Crime Fiction Series Books 1-3: Black Dog, Dancing With the Virgins, Blood on the Tongue

‘Yes.’

‘You can’t have been in both places at once.’

Harry shrugged. ‘That’s your problem, I reckon.’

‘What about Sunday?’ asked Cooper, desperate for a change in the conversation.

‘What about it?’

‘Did you go out on the Baulk with your dog that day?’

‘Nine o’clock in the morning and six o’clock at night. Regular.’

‘On the same path? To Raven’s Side?’

‘Yes.’

‘And on Monday morning the same?’

‘Nine o’clock.’

‘It’s a bit odd then, isn’t it, that you didn’t find that trainer before Monday night? When you had already made four visits to the area. One about the time Laura Vernon was killed, and three afterwards. Without seeing a thing?’

Harry tapped his pipe into the fireplace, stared at the empty grate, and looked up at Cooper. He narrowed his eyes and set his jaw. Cooper thought he was in for another uncomfortable spell of silence.

‘I was going to talk to Vernon,’ said Harry suddenly.

‘What?’ Cooper was taken by surprise, both at the information and the fact that Harry had actually volunteered it without having to have it dragged out of him with red-hot pincers.

‘On Saturday night. I thought I saw Graham Vernon while I was out with Jess. I was going to talk to him.’

‘Why was that, sir?’

‘I had something I wanted to discuss with him. Personal.’

‘What about?’

‘Personal.’

‘How well do you know Mr Vernon?’

‘I don’t. I’ve never met him.’

‘So why did you want to speak to him?’

‘I’ve said it twice. I’m not intending to say it again.’

‘I could insist, Mr Dickinson. I could ask you down to the station to help with enquiries, and we’ll conduct a formal interview and ask you to make another statement.’

‘I’m making a statement,’ said Harry. ‘It was personal. That’s a statement.’

‘But you do see that if it was anything to do with Mr Vernon’s daughter –’

‘I can tell you that. It wasn’t.’

‘To do with your own family perhaps?’

Harry smiled benevolently, as if at a clever student. ‘Happen so, lad.’

‘Where did you meet Mr Vernon?’

‘Assumptions again.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I said I wanted to talk to him. But I couldn’t find him. He’d disappeared again.’

Cooper’s mind was setting off on a different track now. He saw Harry Dickinson out wandering on the Baulk at the same time as both Laura Vernon and her father, not to mention whoever had killed Laura. And he pictured the bird-watcher, Gary Edwards, who had been in a wonderful vantage point, but had only seen one of them. And then he realized that, if Harry had met Graham Vernon while he was out, then their conversation would surely have meant that Harry would have been later back at the cottage than usual. But would it have kept him out until after seven-fifteen? Gwen would have to be lying too. But then she would, wouldn’t she, to protect Harry?

‘Next question then,’ said Harry.

Cooper decided he was getting into deep water. ‘No more questions for now, Mr Dickinson.’

‘No?’ Harry looked suddenly disappointed. He pursed his lips and cocked his head on one side. ‘That’s a poor do. I was hoping for a proper grilling. An interrogation. You know, like Cracker.’

‘Sorry?’

‘That fat bloke that used to be on the telly.’

‘Robbie Coltrane, you mean. He played a criminal psychologist.’

‘Aye. He always used to give ’em a proper grilling. Shouting and swearing at ’em and all. Threatening to thump ’em if they didn’t tell the truth.’ Harry squinted at Cooper critically. ‘Aye well. You’re not him, though. Are you, lad?’

‘No, Mr Dickinson, I’m not Cracker. I’m not Inspector Morse either.’

Cooper got up to go, shoving his notebook in his pocket. ‘Somebody will want to talk to you again, probably, Mr Dickinson.’

‘Fair enough. You’ll no doubt find me without any trouble.’

‘Thanks for your time then.’

Cooper reached the door and looked out at the village, struck by the contrast between the bright sunlight hitting the street and the cool, shady corners and heavy furniture of the room behind him. Passing through the door of Dial Cottage was like stepping out of the entrance to a deep cave. In ancestral memory, caves must have represented security. But there was always danger too. There was always the possibility that a dangerous wild beast might be lurking in that cave. Cooper turned to say goodbye to the old man and found the sharp blue eyes fixed mockingly on his face.

‘No. And you’re not even Miss Marple,’ said Harry.

17 (#ulink_c95d28a7-9663-5dba-9c5d-a7df7ada0f7c)

DCI Tailby’s office was one of the few rooms in the Edendale Divisional HQ with air conditioning. In the past couple of weeks, there had been a lot of excuses for meetings that had to take place in the DCI’s office and nowhere else. Ben Cooper, though, was sure his visit that afternoon was justified by something besides the unbearable temperature.