‘Are you sure?’
‘How can I be? We’ll never know what was going through Will Thorpe’s mind, or how much he told Rebecca. This is total conjecture, Diane, but it’s the only way it makes sense.’
‘You mean Ray Proctor had no reason to shut Rebecca up? It achieved nothing?’
‘Nothing,’ said Cooper. ‘If only Will Thorpe had told her the whole truth, it could have saved both their lives.’
Fry sat down suddenly and stared at him. ‘But, instead, Rebecca’s threat must have upset Proctor badly.’
‘So badly that he needed a drink. We know Ray Proctor drank at the Cheshire Cheese. He always has done, and he’s never altered his habits. Some people never do. He was out drinking that Monday night - Connie mentioned it. She said he came back late.’
‘Yes, she did.’
‘The landlord confirms Proctor was in the Cheshire Cheese that night. Which means he’d have seen Quinn - remember, Quinn was in the bar from about ten o’clock.’
‘Well, perhaps he did see him,’ said Fry.
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‘Yes, I think he did. Quinn checked in and went up to his room, then came back down to the bar later. I think Proctor saw Quinn come into the pub, and so he made a quick exit.’
‘And he went to Parson’s Croft?’
‘To see Rebecca Lowe,’ said Cooper. ‘He thought that’s where Quinn would go, so he wanted to get there first.’
‘You’ve got it all worked out.’ Fry looked at him. ‘It’s almost like the Carol Proctor case all over again, isn’t it?’
‘He’d been drinking heavily for a while by then. And he was desperate to stop Rebecca telling Quinn the truth.’
‘But the boot impressions, Ben - they matched the prints at the field barn where Will Thorpe was killed. Quinn was definitely at Parson’s Croft that night. You can’t escape that fact.’
‘Yes, he was there all right. It’s ironic, but by the time Proctor saw him in the pub he’d already been to Parson’s Croft. And Rebecca was still very much alive when he left. I’m sure he just stood at the bottom of the garden and never even approached the house, let alone went in.’
‘But why?’
Cooper remembered the images of Quinn captured on the security cameras at Hathersage and Castleton. His expression had been difficult to read at the time, but it came back to Cooper now.
The think he was frightened,’ he said. ‘His courage failed him. I think he couldn’t face Rebecca after all that time.’
‘He couldn’t face her sober, you mean?’
‘Maybe.’
‘So Rebecca was alive, you think?’
‘Yes,’ said Cooper. ‘If his courage hadn’t failed him at that moment, Mansell Quinn might have saved her life.’
Fry was silent for a moment. ‘It remains to be seen how co-operative Raymond Proctor will be. Without his prints on the back-door key for Parson’s Croft, we’d have had no evidence to justify the search. We knew Rebecca Lowe made
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a phone call to Proctor that day, but so what? They’d known each other for years. OK, so Proctor was drinking at the Cheshire Cheese that night, where he might or might not have seen Mansell Quinn, and he might or might not have left the pub when he did. Again, so what? Why shouldn’t he get out of the way rather than risk a confrontation? We have no witnesses to say Proctor went to Parson’s Croft, no one who saw his vehicle on the farm track, and no tyre impressions. There was no DNA at the scene, nothing. If Proctor had used a bit of logic and kept the key, or just wiped it, or worn gloves, he’d still have been waiting for the right moment to dispose of the knife.’
‘Logic doesn’t necessarily work at a time like that, does it?’
More members of the team were arriving back in the office now. Their voices could be heard in the corridor, loud and excited. Downstairs, Ray Proctor had been processed, booked in and allocated his cell. Cooper wondered whether he’d be sent to Gartree to start his sentence. And whether, in fourteen years’ time, he’d find himself walking out of the gates of LIMP Sudbury, abandoned by his family and about to slip through the cracks in the system.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ said Fry. ‘Proctor must have been really worried about Will Thorpe. Full marks to your persuasive powers for getting him to take Thorpe back again, Ben.’
‘Proctor made sure he didn’t stay, though.’
‘And Quinn finally sorted the problem out for him.’
‘I suppose we still haven’t located Quinn?’ said Cooper.
‘No. But he’ll turn up somewhere. Not even Mansell Quinn can slip through the cracks completely.’
Gavin Murfin came in, smiling and sweating. ‘Hey, Ben,’ he said, ‘We don’t need to do a DNA test on you. Did I ever say that?’
‘Yes, you did say that, Gavin.’
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‘I know, but it’s amazing. Did you check to see whether your Dad ever pulled Alan Proctor?’
‘No. But Dad would have given any fifteen-year-old boy a second chance,’ said Cooper. ‘He always did with youngsters.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard that, too,’ said Fry.
