to east were too narrow for the sun ever to reach the pavement. So shoppers and office workers gravitated to the open spaces to soak up some rays in their lunch breaks. The cathedral gardens were crowded with people escaping the shadows.
His departure on his rest day hadn’t been popular, particularly when he’d told Liz about it.
‘I’ve got to get right away for a few hours,’ he said. ‘The incident last night really shook me up.’
‘I understand, Ben. It’s been a tough week.’
‘You could say that.’
‘Maybe you ought to take more time off than just a few hours.’
‘No, I’ll be all right. Too much to do.’
‘So where are you going?’ she asked.
‘Birmingham.’
‘Birmingham? You’re kidding. Is this actually work?’
‘Well…I can’t say, really.’
And she didn’t sound happy with the reply.
‘Ben,’ she repeated, ‘why are you going to Birmingham?’
‘Liz — ’
‘Do you think I don’t know that Diane Fry is there?’
Cooper could have kicked himself. Of course she would know that. He bet that Fry’s trip had been the subject of office gossip for days. It might have been better if he’d lied. She would have found him out though, and then it would have been even worse.
But what could he say to Liz now that would smooth things over, yet wouldn’t be a lie?
‘Diane needs my help,’ he said. ‘It’s as simple as that.’
‘Simple? You might think so, Ben. But I’m not sure it is.’
DI Blake looked seriously troubled now. His face was creased with disappointment, as if Fry had let him down somehow.
‘Diane,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘I remember you as a first-class colleague when we worked together in Aston. Straight as an arrow — that was DC Fry. Always going by the book.’
Fry said nothing. He hadn’t asked a question, so there was no need for an answer. Silence was a weapon that worked both ways.
She’d already been interviewed by members of the Major Incident Unit attending the scene of Andy Kewley’s death. Blake must have been alerted at an early stage, because he arrived before she’d even finished making her initial statement.
Fry watched the West Midlands forensic scene investigators in their white scene suits and blue latex gloves combing through the cemetery, picking among the cider bottles on the moss-covered tombstones. They would be looking for fingerprints, fibres, blood or hair, searching for footprints or weapons. She wished them luck in the tangled undergrowth and broken memorials.
She and Blake were standing at the outer cordon near the RV point. They were prohibited from the scene itself, excluded as unnecessary personnel.
Fry thought of the three principles of crime-scene management — protect, record and recover.
The potential for contamination must be immense. If an item of evidence was vulnerable, the chances were that everyone was going to walk over it. She might have walked over something herself, crushed some fragment of vital trace evidence into the dirt.
‘How was he killed?’ asked Fry. ‘It looked like a head injury to me. But they won’t tell me anything.’
‘Yes, blunt instrument.’
‘He can’t have been dead for long. He liked to be on time.’
‘And you didn’t see anybody?’ asked Blake.
‘No.’
‘So was there some particular reason you were meeting him?’
‘Because he called me and asked me to, that’s all. I covered it all in my statement to the MIU.’
‘Yes, you’re right — it’s not my enquiry. But I worked with Kewley for a while too, don’t forget.’
Fry shook her head. ‘I don’t understand. Who would want to attack Andy Kewley?’
‘Well, we get all kinds of people hanging around in places like this. Sociopaths, drunks, drug addicts. Individuals who ought to be in secure accommodation, but who’ve fallen through cracks in the system. They’re drawn to disused areas like old cemeteries.’
‘Oh, I see. You mean it was a random assault? Just some harmless homicidal crank?’
‘I don’t know, Diane. I don’t have any information. What do you think?’
Fry didn’t answer the question. ‘Somebody must have seen Andy arrive, at least.’
‘Uniforms are doing a trawl for witnesses, but my guess is it will be a short list.’
Fry saw Ben Cooper arrive at the outer cordon, looking be-wildered by the extent of the activity in and around the cemetery. She also thought he appeared particularly dishevelled today. His hair fell untidily across his forehead, and she wasn’t sure that he’d even shaved properly this morning.
‘So did this sort of thing always happen when you lived in Birmingham?’ said Cooper when Fry explained the activity.
‘I didn’t live in Birmingham,’ said Fry. ‘I never lived in Birmingham, even when I was at college in Perry Barr, and even when I worked in Aston. I lived in the Black Country, at Warley.’
‘Okay. There’s a difference?’
‘You bet there’s a difference.’
‘I’ll try to remember.’
‘And another thing to remember, Ben — now you’re in the city, you can’t just go around being nice to everybody you pass in the street here. They don’t know who you are, and they won’t like it. You’re liable to get yourself killed.’
‘Stop being nice? Okay. I’ll try to be more like you, then.’
Fry thought she’d misheard him. ‘What?’
But Cooper ignored it.
‘So what do you think is going on, Diane? With your case, I mean?’
‘I really don’t know. I don’t have enough information.’
‘What’s your instinct?’
‘It’s too late for instinct, Ben. Much too late.’
Fry looked at him. For the first time, she noticed that he didn’t look well. It wasn’t just untidiness. He was pale, and there were dark rings under his eyes, as if he hadn’t been sleeping properly for days. His hand shook when he brushed back a lock of hair. She had never seen his hands shake before. Never. He seemed fidgety, and he kicked out irritably at a pigeon which came too close. She wondered what had really made him set off and drive to Birmingham this morning. Was he trying to escape from something back in Derbyshire? Because, if so, he seemed to have brought it with him.
‘How is the new role going, Ben?’ she said. ‘Acting DS.’
‘Oh, fine.’
But he sounded so unsure that he might as well have said the opposite.
‘You can ask me for advice, you know, if you want to. It’s not an admission of weakness.’
‘Well, it’s not the job. It’s just something I’m worried about. The family of this dead girl.’
‘The drowning accident on Monday?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s been bothering you all week, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes, but the DI thinks I’m worrying about nothing.’
‘Oh no, don’t tell me — you’ve found another lost cause to champion.’
‘I knew you wouldn’t listen.’
Hearing his irritation, Fry immediately regretted her response. She didn’t want him to go away again.
‘No, I’m sorry, Ben. Go on. What about this family?’
Standing near the incident command unit, Cooper told her about the Nield family, and his suspicions, about the ambiguity of the witness statements and his fear that their memories of events couldn’t be relied on. Exactly as
