Black dog bcadf-1

by Stephen Booth

  ‘All right. So let’s assume Harry’s involved. Consider the possibility, then, that he’s covering up for somebody. Who might that be?’

  o

  ‘Not Graham Vernon, anyway.’

  ‘No love lost there, certainly.’

  ‘It has to be family,’ said Cooper.

  ‘Families stick together, don’t they? They close ranks against

  outsiders when there’s trouble.’ ‘It’s what families are for.’ ‘Simeon Holmes, then. His great-nephew.’ ‘Harry would protect him for the sake of the family.’ ‘Family loyalty. They say it’s a powerful motivation.’ ‘But he says he was with about thirty other bikers at Matlock

  Bath, nearly twenty miles away,’ said Cooper. ‘Has anybody

  managed to break that alibi?’

  o

  ‘Have you tried being a police officer asking for information from bikers about one of their own?’

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  His head was beginning to thump again. For a few minutes, he had almost forgotten the pain.

  ‘There’s another thing, though, Diane. I think you ought to talk to the bird-watcher again. Gary Edwards.’

  ‘Him? Why?’

  ‘There’s something not right about his statement.’

  ‘That’s true. Dave Rcnnie took that statement. Mr Tailby said himself it wasn’t up to scratch. Rennie never pushed Edwards on the time.’

  ‘So has he been seen again already?’

  OJ

  Fry frowned. ‘No. I don’t think so. It would have been put

  through as an action, but probably got allocated a low priority

  when Sherratt was pulled in.’

  ‘And then just got filed somewhere in the system.’

  ‘And after they started pulling people off the enquiry …”

  ‘Yeah, like me, for instance. Talk to him yourself, Diane.

  Will you?’

  ‘You think he can positively tie in Harry? His description is

  too vague, you know.’

  ‘You’ve got to press him on it. There’s something. I just know

  there is. You’ve got to do it.’

  o

  There was a moment’s silence, broken only by Fry’s intake of breath. ‘Who do you think you are, Ben?’

  Cooper looked up, startled by the tone of her voice. For a while, he had forgotten all the things that he had to worry about, all the reasons he had to hate Diane Fry. Now she was glaring at him, making it clearer than ever that the feeling was mutual.

  ‘OO

  ‘I only came in here to tell you what was happening because I thought you’d be interested. But the fact is, you’re off this case. You’ve got plenty of other things you should be concentrating on. And there are several other reasons why I don’t think I should have to listen to you telling me what I’ve got to do. So who do you think you are?’

  Cooper felt the full flush of his anger coming back to him. He had never found anybody so infuriating as he did Diane Fry. How was it she was able to provoke him into saying things that he would never dream of saying to anyone else?

  ‘Just at this moment I don’t know who the hell I am.

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  Sometimes I feel as though I’m not anybody really. As though 1 in just rehearsing lor a role that my family want me to play. Learning to be just like my father.’

  ‘Oh yes? At least you’ve got a family,’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  j

  ‘Never mind. It doesn’t matter.’ She pulled abruptly away from his desk, glancing around with distaste at the mess.

  ‘Are you going to let me down, then?’ he asked.

  She didn’t answer, but changed the subject. ‘I’ve got some other news for you. Lee Sherratt has been bailed.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He claims he had no intention of using the gun. He says you startled him, and he had it in his hands at the time. Cleaning it. And it was only an air rifle anyway. You don’t even need a licence for one of those. OK, he admits he was poaching — but what’s that? A few quid in fines?’

  Fry was beginning to move away, back towards the interview rooms and another spell with Harry Dickinson.

  ‘What about Laura Vernon?’ asked Cooper.

  ‘What about her? We can’t tie Sherratt in with Laura Vernon. Mr Tailby’s done his best.’

  ‘Is he not hopeful?’

  ‘There’s no evidence. Sure, the semen in the used condom was his — but we have Charlotte Vernon’s statement that she had sex with him more than once. And it might have been Sherratt seen talking to Laura at six-fifteen that night. In fact, I’m damn sure it was. But unless he admits it, there’s no evidence of that, either. And Sherratt knows it perfectly well.’

  ‘But there’s the bite mark. Have they taken an impression of his teeth for comparison?’

  ‘Yes, but it was a waste of time. The report came back from the forensic odontologist at Sheffield. Mr Tailby is furious that it took so long for a result like that to come through.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Ben — that bite mark is the wrong shape. Not only were the teeth not Lee Sherratt’s — they weren’t even human.’

  ‘So what do you imagine will happen to your dog, Mr Dickinson?’

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  ‘What do you mean?’

  Diane fry thrust her chiujorward aggressively. ‘ljyour dog attacked and bit Laura Vernon, it could be considered an aggravated offence under section three oj the Dangerous Dogs Act.’

  7 don’t understand.’

  ‘A court could make an order to have your dog destroyed. Put down,’ she said.

  ‘You’d better put me down first.’

  ‘It’s a possibility, though,’ said Hitchens, interested in Harry’s reaction. ‘If the dog was responsible for the attack which led to Laura’s death, it would be more than likely. What’s the wording, Diane?’

  ‘The Act refers to “a dog that injures any person while dangerously out of control in a public place”.’

  ‘You can’t tell they’re a dog’s teeth,’ said Harry.

  ‘Oh, yes, we can. We have experts on those sort of things these days, Harry. Experts with very expensive bits of equipment. Such as scanning electron microscopes and electronic image enhancers. They can tell.’

  ‘Aye?’

  ‘Do you want to hear a bit of what one of these experts says? I’ve got it here.’ Hitchens pulled out the report from the odontologist. He deliberately skipped the bit about the bite mark being of insufficient depth to assess by normal methods, which was why the expensive equipment had had to be used. ‘Here we are. The odontologist says: “It should be noted that human bite marks have a unique oval form, and most of the times there is found a ‘suck mark’ in the middle of the oval injury. Most human bites exhibit markings from several of the six upper front teeth or lower teeth, sometimes both. Canine bite marks, however, have an angular shape, like a diamond, compared to the human bite mark, which is more curved. Following electronic image enhancement, the pattern injuries caused by canine teeth are clearly distinguishable under the electron microscope.”’

  Hitchens looked up. ‘In other words, they were canine teeth, Harry. Laura Vernon was bitten by a dog. We think it was your dog.’

  Harry stared into the distance. The detectives waited, instinctively recognizing the time to be silent.

  ‘What if I told you that I killed the lass, and she was bitten after she was dead? Would that do?’

  Fry felt a surge of excitement and astonishment. After all the

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  stonewalling that-the old man had done, could it really be so simple? But DI Hitchens was more cautious. He had heard too many statements that sounded like confessions in the heightened atmosphere of the interview room, but which failed to hold up in the cold light of a court hearing. And Harry’s remark hadn’t even been a statement; it had been a question.

  ‘You’d have to convince usjirst, Harry. Do you want to tell us
what really happened now?’

  But Fry interrupted. She had a different question, which she couldn’t wait to ask.

  ‘Would you really sacrifice yourselfJbr a dog?’

  Harry turned his steady gaze on her. It was clear from the pain in his eyes that his tough exterior had been cracked at last. An intense emotion was breaking through the restraint, a passion that could no longer be controlled by close-mouthed pride.

  ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ he said. ‘It’s obvious to a blind man, you’ve not got an ounce of love in you.’

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  26

  It’s only a do?.’ said shee.

  o’^

  Ben Cooper turned away. ‘Well, maybe.’

  ‘What did he mean, Ben? What he said in the interview.’

  ‘He was just trying to wind you up, Diane. Take no notice of him.’

  He regarded her with concern, worried that she seemed unduly disturbed by Harry Dickinson’s jibe. He had been in the middle of a call to a motorist whose car had been stolen the previous night when Fry had stormed back into the CID room, anxious to talk about the interview. Cooper had barely had time to finish the call before she had been repeating the conversation word for word.

  ‘But it’s only a dog.’

  ‘Let’s go down to the canteen,’ he said.

  o‘

  It was obvious there was something about the old man that was totally foreign to her. Cooper thought he could almost get on Harry’s wavelength sometimes. Almost, but not quite. It was still not possible to predict what he might do next. But to Diane Fry, he seemed to be some kind of alien.

  A few minutes later, they were sitting at a table on their own, clutching two mugs of coffee, ignoring the noise from a group of uniformed officers nearby.

  ‘They’ve had to release him, of course,’ said Fry, calming as the caffeine reached her bloodstream. ‘No charge.’

  ‘Go on, surprise me.’

  ‘By the time they got round to interviewing the alleged victim in the rape suite, she admitted she’d made the story up. She’d let her boyfriend go all the way without protection, and when it proved a bit disappointing she suddenly remembered things like pregnancy and AIDS. Not to mention irate parents.’

  ‘She panicked?’

  ‘Yes, inspired by half-digested sex-education lessons and a vivid imagination. And with all the stories that have been

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  in the papers, the first thing that occurred to her was to shout rape.

  ‘Not the first time that’s happened.’

  Fry shrugged. ‘We all know there are more false rape allegations than there are actual rapes. The boyfriend’s fifteen, by the way.’

  ‘But why did she claim it was Harry?’

  ‘Apparently the two of them had some sort of encounter in the village shop earlier in the day. Harry must have come out of it best, because she hadn’t forgotten it. And she’d heard all the talk in the village, so she reckoned she’d be believed. Anyway, she said he was a miserable old bugger and he deserved anything that

  OOJO

  happened to him. Funny how their minds work sometimes.’ ‘And what was it she said, exactly, when the PC found her?’ ‘As I recall, her words were: “It was the old man.”’ Cooper nodded, not surprised. ‘It was the old man.’ He thought of the old lead miners’ saying, their hushed stories about the spirit they called ‘t’owd mon’, who lurked in the unlit shafts of the mines. ‘The old man’ was blamed for everything that

  Jo

  went wrong in the mine, from unexplained sounds in the dark to unproductive veins and fatal accidents. But he was also its guardian, a collective spirit of long-dead miners and of the mine itself. What the girl had said was an echo of the myth. ‘It was the old man, the old man.’ An ancient mantra of superstition.

  ‘She’ll be on the False or Persistent Rape Allegation file now. Silly little cow. They’ve sent her home too, with a “morning after” pill. A WPC went to talk to her parents. Let them sort her out, if they can.’

  ‘What about Harry?’ asked Cooper.

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Was he all right?’

  ‘Him? He’ll be all right. Tough as old boots, if you ask me. And too proud by half as well. What are you worrying about him for?’

  ‘It’s not a pleasant experience, being pulled in as a rape suspect.’

  Fry shrugged. ‘Tough.’

  ‘Did anybody explain it to Gwen?’

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  ‘He can explain it himself, can’t he?’

  1 don t lliink he will, said Cooper thought!ully. 1 don t dunk he’ll be making any excuses.’

  ‘Like 1 said, too damn proud.’

  ‘It’s not just that. I think he wants as much attention as he ran got. According to one of the team who went to pick him up, he seemed to be expecting them. He was waiting for them to arrive. He said: “It didn’t take you long.” Now why would he say that?’

  Fry set down her coffee cup thoughtfully. ‘You’re thinking about your link, aren’t you, Ben? Have you still got that diagram?’

  o

  ‘Yes.’

  He put the diagram on the table, straightening out the creases to show the connecting lines.

  ‘I drew it for Mr Tailby after we sent Dickinson back to his cell,’ said Fry.

  ‘Did you? And?’

  ‘I told him what you said. That the old man would protect someone for the sake of the family. But who might that be? That’s the question. And Mr Tailby agreed with you on that.’

  Cooper waited tensely, watching her face.

  ‘But he definitely doesn’t think it’s Simeon Holmes,’ she said.

  He sighed, his shoulders slumped. ‘That’s what I was afraid of,’ he said.

  He finished his coffee, and contemplated going back to detect in? car crime.

  o

  ‘Diane, do me a favour, though?’

  She nearly said ‘another one”, but held her tongue. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Talk to the bird-watcher again.’

  She sighed. ‘You’ve got an obsession about him.’

  Cooper found the words hard to say, but knew he had to say them. For some reason, it was important enough.

  ‘Please, Diane.’

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  The atmosphere at the Mount had passed through every mood and emotion that Graham Vernon could think of, with the exception of the good ones.

  For several days, Charlotte had succeeded in working her way up towrards a brittle pitch of nonchalance that had shattered dramatically after the visit by the woman detective the day before. Now there was barely a word or a response to be had from her. All day she had clutched to her chest the photograph of Laura which had finally been returned by the police.

  As for Daniel, once the shouting was over, an uneasy peace seemed to have descended. This morning, Graham had even

  o’

  begun to feel that he and his son might actually understand each a bit better after this business was done with. But when would it be done with?

  ‘What the hell are they doing now?’ said Daniel.

  ‘God knows,’ said Graham. ‘They don’t tell me what they’re thinking.’

  O

  They were missing the village gossip that Sheila Kelk would normally have been delighted to pass on to Charlotte. The only other person that might have known what had been happening was Andrew Milner — but there was no way Graham was going to ask his employee for information of that kind.

  Fadier and son stood together by the French windows in begrudging unity. Graham was glad that Daniel had at least cleaned himself up. His hair had been washed, and somehow he had found fresh clothes in the house. Even the kitchen had been cleaned recently, and Graham was sure that Charlotte hadn’t done it. He was surprised, really, that his son was still in the house. And he watched Daniel for clues to his reasoning, fearing another rebellious gesture he would fail to understand.

  o

  But Daniel was s
taring into the garden, his eyes following the methodical movements of the dark shapes in the conifers that grew by the bottom wall.

  ‘What are they looking for, Dad?’

  ‘I just don’t know,’ said Graham.

  They watched the police team assemble for a few minutes on the lawn, brushing the soil off their knees as they discussed their next move. Then the officers dispersed again. They pulled on

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  their gloves and approached the densely planted bushes on the eastern border of the property, gradually getting nearer the gate that led on to the Baulk. And they started looking again.

  That afternoon, Cooper left Edendale to visit a family from East Anglia who were holidaying in a cottage near Bakcwell. Their

  o^ oo

  Mitsubishi had been taken from the roadside near one of the show caves at Castleton, full of the usual items — a camera, binoculars, mobile phone, a wallet and cheque book locked in the glove compartment. They were fortunate that their insurance allowed them to get a hire car to finish their holiday, but he had a feeling they wouldn’t be coming back to Derbyshire again. However, one of the family thought they might have caught a glimpse of the thieves near their car as they had headed for the cave. It was a very small clue in a hopeless task.

  From Bakewell, he drove up the A6 as far as Ashfordin-the Water. There were clumps and wisps of yellow straw lying all along the roadside, swirling in the blasts of air from passing traffic and settling to the ground again like broken shreds of sunlight.

  The schools were still on holiday for another week, and the main roads throughout the Peak District were choked with cars and caravans. If the hot weather held a bit longer, the tourist honey pots would be at a standstill again at the weekend, with thousands of people sweltering in narrow, gridlocked lanes surrounded by the stench of exhaust fumes and hot tarmac.

  In Ashford, the streets were lined with cars and the bridge over the weir was packed with people watching the ducks paddling in the shallow water or the families picnicking on the grassy banks. There was a small car park behind the church in the middle of the village, but it was overlooked by houses and relatively safe. Cooper drove on.