monkeys represent the principle “
Cooper glanced across the pub to see where Liz had got to. She’d found some friends and was chatting happily to them at another table. He felt a momentary spurt of jealousy. But that was completely irrational. She’d left him alone to make his phone call in peace, which was exactly what he’d wanted her to do, wasn’t it?
Fry was very quiet at the other end of the phone. And that was odd, too. Cooper felt she ought to be interrupting his thoughts by now and telling him what to do next.
‘Are you all right, Diane? Shall I come into the office this afternoon and we can talk it through?’
‘I’ve got a new assignment, Ben,’ she said.
‘A new — ?’ Cooper wasn’t quite sure what she meant.
‘You won’t be seeing me for a little while. I’m going on a trip. Mr Kessen wants me to fly to Dublin to interview Martin Rourke. I have to liaise with the Garda Siochana.’
‘Ireland? Well, that’s great.’
‘Is it?’
‘You ought to be delighted, Diane. Anyone else in the department would give their right arm to be off on a trip to Ireland. When do you fly?’
‘Tomorrow. I’ll be away until Wednesday probably. So you won’t see me around the office for a couple of days.’
‘We’ll manage without you for a while,’ said Cooper, trying to lighten the tone of the conversation without understanding why it was taking a downbeat note.
‘You know what’s happening on Tuesday?’ said Fry, a trifle impatiently.
‘Er …’
‘Our new detective superintendent is putting in an appearance. In person. She’ll be meeting the troops for the first time. Except, she won’t be meeting me, because I’ll be in bloody Dublin.’
‘But, Diane, that doesn’t mean anything,’ protested Cooper.
‘It doesn’t mean anything to
When Cooper finished the call, he took a drink and wondered what he should do. The realization that even Diane Fry was worried about her position made him uneasy. This was one of those moments when anyone could be forgiven for covering their backs. He ought to take stock of the things he’d neglected to do, in case he was challenged on them some time.
He looked at Liz. She met his eye, and stood up. Cooper wondered if there was something on his list that wouldn’t seem too much like work. If so, he might just get away with doing it today.
As Liz came over to his table, he remembered. Time for a visit to a nice heritage centre, perhaps.
24
Two hours later, and the day had been disrupted for everyone. Units were arriving rapidly at Tom Farnham’s house near Newhaven. Cars rattled over the cattle grid, officers were taping off the breeze-block garage, the flash of a digital camera burst intermittently from behind the half-open doors.
Cooper could see that the chiefs were out in force for this one. And on a Sunday afternoon, too. DCI Kessen and DI Hitchens stood conferring with the crime scene manager, Wayne Abbott, in the doorway of the garage workshop. The discovery of Tom Farnham’s body had been reported by one of his customers, calling to pick up a repaired lawnmower.
‘A totally senseless crime,’ said Fry. ‘Apparently, they didn’t get away with a thing.’
‘There’s no sign that they were disturbed in a burglary,’ said Cooper.
‘Apart from the deceased body of the householder lying covered in blood on the floor, you mean?’
‘I mean, what were they hoping to steal from the workshop?’
Fry looked around. ‘Lawnmowers? There’s a good market for them, I’m told.’
‘Yes, there is. But they haven’t touched them. You can see none of them has been moved an inch. And who would beat the householder to death when they were only out to nick an old lawnmower?’
‘Like I said, totally senseless.’
Cooper thought Fry had been much too quick to jump to conclusions about the attack on Tom Farnham. But he didn’t really blame her for it. Senseless crimes were all around them these days — there were stories in the papers every day. People didn’t understand the reasons for them, but they no longer doubted that such things happened. It was almost a first assumption.
‘There could be some other motive. It’s more than a coincidence, Diane.’
‘Oh, right. They were followers of the Old Religion, of course. And Tom Farnham had broken the faith.’
Hitchens came towards them. ‘All hands on deck, chaps. The medical examiner says that the victim wasn’t just beaten to death, he was shot. His attackers used something like a nine-millimetre pistol. They gave him a beating first, then finished him off with a couple of bullets.’
‘Bullets?’ said Cooper. ‘Firearms, not a shotgun?’
‘No, Ben. There’s blood splatter in the woods, and a trail across the drive where they dragged him back.’
The search of Farnham’s house gave fragmentary glimpses into his lifestyle. His interests had run to anything mechanical or technical, from the innards of old garden machinery to simple computer programs. His PC system boasted a number of peripheral devices — scanner, colour printer, webcam, and some that Cooper didn’t recognize. Money had been spent on this system. Surely more money than could be earned by repairing lawnmowers.
In the study, Cooper found a cork board on one wall of the bedroom, covered in photos. All of them showed Tom Farnham himself, smiling that hesitant smile in a variety of locations around the world. But these were no holiday snaps. There was one of Farnham dancing with Marilyn Monroe, another of Farnham shaking hands with Winston Churchill, and one of him standing behind Stalin on the balcony of the Kremlin. Over here, Tom was sharing a joke with Roosevelt, and in the bottom corner he had his arm around Frank Sinatra, like a previously unknown member of the Rat Pack.
Cooper studied them more closely. ‘Mr Farnham was very skilled with Photoshop, Diane. But then, it looks as though he had a lot of practice.’
Fry peered over his shoulder. ‘You mean he put himself into all these photos? Why would he do that?’
‘Some kind of celebrity obsession? He was never likely to meet these people in real life, but he could look at the photos and pretend he had.’
‘They’re all dead, Ben. Dead before he was born, in most cases.’
‘OK, an obsession with dead celebrities.’
‘Very sad.’
‘We all find our own ways of getting through life.’
‘Sinatra, Churchill, Monroe?’ said Fry. ‘I don’t suppose there’s a pattern?’
‘Not that I can see. It’s like a quiz question — what do all these people have in common?’
‘I don’t like questions without answers,’ said Fry.
‘It looks as though Farnham was on the dole,’ said Cooper. ‘There’s a calendar here, but all it shows are the dates of his giro cheques, once a fortnight.’
‘But he was making money on the side, wasn’t he?’
‘Illegally, of course.’
‘I’m betting his visitors last night were some criminal friends of his that he fell out with.’
‘Friends with nine millimetres in their pockets? They sound like some kind of street gang from Manchester or something.’
Fry laughed. ‘Who do we know from Manchester that has a connection to this case?’
‘Mr Goodwin, the solicitor? Surely not?’
‘Stranger things have been known,’ said Fry.
