‘I can see you’re a bit concerned,’ said Roth. ‘So here’s an idea. Why don’t you come with us? I take it you’re a walker? Or perhaps even a hiker?’
‘It depends,’ said Cooper, ‘on the circumstances.’
Roth smiled. ‘I bet a hike across Kinder Scout is nothing to you.’
‘Thank you for the invitation,’ said Cooper. ‘But I think I’ll probably be too busy.’
As he and Villiers walked back to their car, Cooper turned to see if Darius Roth was out of earshot.
‘Have you noticed how Mr Roth always talks about “us”?’ he said. ‘Meaning himself and his wife, as if he doesn’t expect Elsa to have an opinion of her own or a different story to tell.’
‘Yes, I did notice that,’ said Villiers. ‘And at the same time, Elsa seems content to go along with whatever Darius says.’
‘That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have her own thoughts. She may just be reluctant to express them.’
‘Do you think Elsa Roth might have a few secrets she could share with us?’
‘Yes, if she could be persuaded. But that’s doubtful. She has a serious vested interest in Darius. I think she might already have told me as much as she’s ever going to give away. And that was intended to direct attention away from her husband.’
‘She’s the quiet one,’ said Villiers. ‘You know what I think.’
‘And I always value your opinion, Carol.’
Villiers laughed. ‘You value it but don’t always take any notice of it.’
‘Not quite true.’
Cooper smiled to himself. It wasn’t true at all. Villiers was wrong on that subject. He always tried to take notice of everything, no matter how insignificant it might seem.
26
On the way back to Edendale, Ben Cooper tried to put out of his mind the recurring image he had of Darius Roth as a kind of charismatic cult leader, gathering loyal followers around him. It was probably unfair, though it was an image Roth himself did nothing to dispel. He might even cultivate it. Everyone had a role they tried to play, didn’t they?
As he steered the Toyota across the divide between the Dark Peak and White Peak, Cooper thought of all the criminals who’d lived and died in these villages. Abney, Bradwell, Hucklow. Their histories were full of individuals who’d played their roles to the end. Murderers, thieves, conmen. They’d all thought they’d get away with their crimes. And some of them had, of course. Those were the names that didn’t make it into the history books.
He turned to Carol Villiers as they were passing her home village of Tideswell.
‘You know that Saturday night,’ he said. ‘The night before the walk. Millie Taylor and Karina Scott stayed in the Roths’ guest accommodation at Trespass Lodge, didn’t they?’
‘Yes. Mr Roth said he didn’t want them having to pay for a hotel.’
Cooper nodded. But Jonathan Matthew had been there too. The potential black sheep. Perhaps Roth had wanted Jonathan right under his roof.
‘Mr Roth presents himself as a benefactor, doesn’t he?’ said Villiers. ‘I think that’s the role he aspires to. Despite his talk of working-class roots, his dream is to be a wealthy patron surrounded by grateful recipients of his generosity.’
‘That’s interesting too,’ said Cooper.
‘Is it? Why?’
‘Well, if that’s true – and I think you’re right, Carol – then Millie Taylor and Karina Scott wouldn’t be enough for him. He’d want to spread his patronage around, gain more grateful recipients who owe him a debt.’
‘I see. So . . . ?’
‘So who else was he a benefactor to?’ said Cooper. ‘Which of the walking group owed Darius Roth so much that they might kill for him?’
‘Or resent their benefactor.’
‘Ah, you’re thinking of the crucified teddy bear. That does suggest someone who felt very bitter against Darius Roth, to say the least.’
‘Whoever it was, perhaps he had something on them.’
‘A kind of hold over them?’ said Cooper. ‘Yes. Take the Gould brothers, for example. They’re the longest-standing members of the group. Why are they so loyal to Darius? What kind of hold does he have over those two?’
Villiers looked at him wide-eyed.
‘You asked earlier what bound such a disparate group together,’ she said, ‘when it clearly isn’t an interest in the Mass Trespass. Could this be it, Ben?’
‘Every one of them is indebted to Darius in some way? If so, that opens up a whole new can of worms. We’ll have to go back and ask them a lot more questions. The right ones this time.’
Villiers shuddered. ‘Darius Roth,’ she said. ‘What an egotistical monster he’s starting to seem.’
Cooper had to agree. He felt no satisfaction that his first instinct about Roth might have been the correct one.
Back at West Street, Millie Taylor and Karina Scott were waiting for their appointment to be interviewed. Carol Villiers collected DC Becky Hurst from the CID room and they went off to talk to the two students.
In his office, Ben Cooper studied the documents Luke Irvine had left on his desk about the Mass Trespass. Everything began somewhere. The reasons for Faith Matthew’s death on Sunday might go back to 1932 – or only to the day before.
Nick Haslam had been right. Many of the organisers of the Kinder Mass Trespass were Communists. Luke Irvine’s research revealed that the protest in 1932 was supported by fifteen Lancashire branches of the British Workers’ Sports Federation and two branches from Sheffield.
Cooper saw that the estimates of the numbers involved in the trespass varied considerably, as they always did. Organisers claimed between six hundred and eight hundred, while a reporter for the Manchester Guardian guessed between four hundred and five hundred. Other claims were much lower.
The confrontation with gamekeepers and bailiffs had taken place on the slopes of Sandy Heys. As the protesters returned to the village of Hayfield, five of them were arrested by police and taken to Hayfield Lock-up, which was now the offices of the parish council on Market Street. They joined another protester who’d been arrested at the scene of the scuffle.
The arrested ramblers were named as John Anderson, aged twenty-one; Julius ‘Jud’ Clyne, twenty-three; Arthur Walter ‘Tona’ Gillett, aged just nineteen; Harry Mendel, twenty-two; David Nussbaum, also nineteen; and the main organiser of the protest, Bernard ‘Benny’ Rothman, aged twenty.
After the arrests at the Mass Trespass, a group of fellow ramblers had waited outside the Hayfield Lock-up, expecting the imminent release of the prisoners. When nothing happened, a spokesman hammered on the door and offered bail for the arrested protesters. As the situation became tense, the six men were smuggled out of the lock-up and taken to New Mills Police Station, where they were kept overnight. A plaque still hung on the old police station commemorating the event.
Next day, the arrested ramblers were charged with unlawful assembly and breach of the peace. All six pleaded not guilty and were remanded for trial at Derby Assizes, sixty miles from their homes. Meanwhile, ‘wanted’ posters had been printed, offering a reward of five pounds for the identification of some of the ramblers who escaped arrest.
At the subsequent trial, Benny Rothman took the opportunity for some working-class rhetoric: ‘We ramblers, after a hard week’s work in smoky towns and cities, go out rambling for relaxation, a breath of fresh air, a little sunshine. But we find when we go out that the finest rambling country is closed to us, just because certain individuals wish to shoot for about ten days a year.’
Despite his defence, he and four other men were found guilty and given jail terms of between two and six months. John Anderson received the longest sentence for assault on the gamekeeper. Just one, Harry Mendel, was acquitted due to a lack of evidence.
It was the severity of the sentences that unleashed a wave of public sympathy and united the cause. Even those who’d been opposed to the trespass were appalled. A few weeks later, ten thousand ramblers gathered for
a rally at Winnats Pass, near Castleton, and the pressure for greater access continued to grow.
‘There we are,’ said Cooper when Villiers returned. ‘Rothman not Roth. That’s what I thought. It was niggling at the back of my mind. It’s a long time since we were taught about the Mass Trespass, but I was right.’
‘Mr Roth hasn’t actually claimed that his grandfather was one of the men arrested, though, just that he was one of the leaders.’
‘True. So you’re saying the similarity of names might just be a coincidence?’
Villiers smiled. ‘You’ve never liked coincidences, have you?’
‘Not very much.’
‘But they do happen,’ she said.
Cooper looked at the list thoughtfully.
‘Darius Roth referred to his ancestor as a “martyr”. That does suggest he was one of those who were imprisoned and given heavy sentences. Suggests it without actually saying it. It would be quite enough for anyone who didn’t bother to ask questions or do their own research but accepted whatever Darius said.’
Villiers shrugged. ‘So he’s building up his personal narrative with a bit of exaggeration. Everyone does that.’
‘Mmm.’
Cooper still wasn’t convinced. But there were no complete records available of who had and hadn’t taken part in the trespass in 1932, so he could probably never be sure one way or the other whether Darius’s tales of his grandfather were true or not. He suspected it was a fantasy.
Did it matter? Perhaps not. But it was all part of a picture that was becoming increasingly disturbing.
‘Well, Becky and I have talked to Millie Taylor and Karina Scott,’ said Villiers.
‘Oh yes. What’s your assessment?’
‘We took them separately, and their stories tally in all the significant details. They say they stayed together on the walk all the time. In fact, after Mr Sharpe’s accident they stuck to Darius Roth’s side and never wandered off for a second. They were too scared after hearing other members of the group talking about the danger of falling off the edge near the Downfall. Millie and Karina wouldn’t go near any rocks after that, let alone try to creep up on someone near a steep drop.’
‘So you don’t think they had the opportunity?’
‘I’m sure they didn’t,’ she said. ‘Besides, they might seem like “silly girls” to the Gould brothers, but they’re actually very smart young women – and ambitious as well. They’re too adult, and they have their heads screwed on too well, to play those sorts of games.’
‘Do you think it’s a case of Theo and Duncan being prejudiced against them?’
‘Yes,’ said Villiers frankly. ‘Patronising at best, because of Millie and Karina’s age, and their gender. “Silly girls” is something they’re definitely not, Ben.’
‘That’s helpful, thank you.’
‘By the way,’ said Villiers, ‘I checked online and found Faith Matthew had both a Facebook page and a LinkedIn profile. She lists Meadow Park Hospital among her previous employers on both. Her dates working there were between nine and four years ago.’
‘Good,’ said Cooper. ‘If only we could ask her directly what ward she was on and whether she met Darius Roth there.’
He looked at a large-scale map of the Kinder area on the wall of the CID room. The last positions of the members of the New Trespassers Walking Club on Sunday were marked on it, but only so far as they were known. There were queries on several of the names, indicating a doubt about their exact location, or the lack of definite corroboration.
The timing was confusing too. It was impossible to get a clear picture of where everyone was and when – either from the statements they’d given themselves or by working it out from other people’s accounts.
Cooper recalled Pat Warburton’s glasses, Theo Gould’s hearing aid. Even with perfect hearing and twenty-twenty vision, the group would have been practically deaf and blind to what was going on around them in the conditions they experienced on Kinder that day. The fog had been too thick. And as far as the inquiry was concerned, it still was.
It was too soon to expect any results from a forensic examination of the threatening note received by Faith Matthew. But the crime scene examiners had preliminary reports from two other scenes.
Wayne Abbott was the senior forensic manager for North Division. He looked more like a rugby forward with his shaven head and squashed nose, but Cooper knew how capable he was at his job.
‘There are no useful prints from the teddy bear in the chapel,’ Abbott told him. ‘That artificial fabric is the wrong kind of surface for us to take viable prints from. And the duct tape looks as though it was either wiped or handled by someone wearing gloves.’
‘OK.’
‘We might be able to obtain some DNA, with a bit of luck. It would take time, and it would cost you.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Cooper. ‘I think I know where the teddy bear came from, and whose DNA you would find.’
Abbott looked at him in surprise but nodded without questioning him. They’d worked together before and understood each other pretty well.
‘You’ve already got that figured out, then,’ said Abbott. ‘Sometimes I think you don’t need us.’
‘I would never say that. It’s just luck.’
Cooper still had a memory stick with all the photos from Faith’s phone, a Samsung Galaxy. It wasn’t the poor-quality photos taken in the fog on Kinder Scout that he was interested in. He was scrolling further back, through some random pictures of people and places he didn’t recognise, to some of Faith with Greg, and then . . . Yes, there it was. A selfie taken in the bedroom of Faith Matthew’s house in Hayfield a few weeks ago. A selfie with a chair full of soft toys photobombing her in the background.
Most prominent among the toys was an ancient brown teddy bear wearing a red bow tie. Its glass eyes seemed to twinkle in the light from the bedside lamp. Cooper remembered that lamp from the day before, when he and Villiers had searched Faith’s house for the threatening note. He recalled seeing the pile of soft toys too. But that golden teddy bear with the red bow tie? It hadn’t been among them. Someone had taken it from Faith’s house. And then it had turned up in that mock crucifixion at the old Methodist chapel.
‘What about the scene on Kinder Scout?’ he asked Abbott. ‘Did you find any marks around the spot where Faith Matthew went over the edge?’
‘A lot of unidentifiable shoe marks. It’s a rocky surface, so it doesn’t hold many usable impressions.’
Cooper grimaced impatiently. He was hearing excuses, not results. But you couldn’t have it all your own way. Forensic science wasn’t magic.
‘There was one shoe mark you wanted us to look at in particular,’ said Abbott. ‘Is that right?’
‘The one facing in a different direction?’
‘Yes. It’s oriented to about ninety degrees to the other marks. But it’s only one, not a pair of impressions.’
‘As if someone was turning.’
‘Perhaps. I’m not sure how helpful it is. The tread on the sole is quite worn, and, as I say, the nature of the surface means it’s only taken a partial impression. But we identified it as a woman’s size-five walking boot, probably a Scarpa or a Garmont.’
‘And?’
‘That’s consistent with the victim’s footwear. We removed a pair of Scarpa Cyrus from the body.’
‘Very good. Anything else?’
Abbott produced a set of photographic prints.
‘There was just this . . . a fresh hole in the peat, no more than half an inch across, with a tapered point. I don’t know what that would be.’
‘It looks to me,’ said Cooper, ‘like the tip of a hiking pole.’
The Warburtons’ caravan had gone from the campsite at Hayfield. Cooper supposed he should have checked first. But didn’t Sam Warburton say the pitch was booked and paid for a week? They hadn’t been in Hayfield that long.
He rang the Warburtons’ number and found the couple were at home in
Didsbury. He left a message to let his office know where he would be and turned the Toyota northwards.
A lot of Manchester people no longer lived in the cobbled back streets of areas like Gorton with their terraced slums but in the leafy avenues of fashionable Chorlton and Didsbury. The Warburtons’ address was a pre-war detached house with mock black and white timbers, located in a cul-de-sac that ended in a turning circle against the wrought-iron fence of Didsbury Sports Ground. Cooper glimpsed the glint of the River Mersey snaking through the convoluted greens of a golf course.
The caravan was drawn onto the drive, and Pat was still unpacking some of the contents.
Sam Warburton stared at him when Cooper explained his reason for being there.
‘Nonsense,’ said Sam. ‘A lot of people carry hiking poles.’
‘The marks from the tip don’t usually last very long, especially in wet weather. They get filled in, washed away or trampled on and they’re no longer visible. This mark was recent.’
‘Even so, it could have been anybody.’
‘Including you,’ said Cooper.
‘If one of us was near that spot, it wasn’t when Faith fell,’ said Sam. ‘We were lost, remember. We could have passed the place earlier without knowing it.’
‘If it was right by the drop,’ added Pat, ‘we could have been in danger ourselves.’
Sam began to shake his head. ‘I don’t think it was one of our poles. It’s too much of a stretch. Detective Inspector Cooper is clutching at straws.’
‘As far as we can tell, there was no one else nearby,’ said Cooper.
‘Apart from Liam, of course,’ said Sam.
‘What?’
‘Liam Sharpe. He was there, obviously.’
‘What do you know about Mr Sharpe?’
‘More than you might think. He had quite a temper, you know.’
‘Did he?’
Sam Warburton looked smug now that he sensed he had Cooper’s attention.
‘And Liam was . . . well, he was the only one there with Faith, after the rest of us went to get help,’ he said. ‘It seems fairly obvious to me, so I assume you started with him?’
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