Further up, on the corner of Rock Terrace, he could see Eden Valley Books, nestling into the tall buildings around it. Starlight glittered faintly on the roof, and a light was visible in a window on the second floor. Here was someone else who didn’t bother closing curtains. But up there were only the pigeons and a view of the back of the town hall clock tower. Lawrence Daley must have a good vantage point over the roofs of Edcndalc. He must be able to look down into all the yards and closes, passages and alleys between here and the market square. He must be able to look down on the River Eden where it passed below the bridge.
As Cooper looked up at the lighted window, a shape passed across it, then a second. The first, he was sure, was Lawrence Daley himself. But the second figure was female. Cooper couldn’t quite believe who he thought it was. Then she turned towards the window to look out, and he was certain.
Cooper heard a cough. Eddie Kemp? Did he really have a delicate respiratory system?
Then his radio came to life. ‘Ben, we’re in Eyre Street. Which way did he go?’
‘Dianc? I think he’s in one of the alleys between you and the market square. Somewhere near the bookshop.’
‘Which ways shall we cover?’
‘He’ll come out either on to Eyre Street or up Rock Terrace on to Buxton Road. I’m at the market square end of Nick i’ th’ Tor.’
‘OK.’
Slowly, Cooper began to move forward again. It was steep
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here, and the setts were slippery it he walked too near the walls. He passed Larkin s and one of the coffee shops and was almost at the bridge. Even if there had keen footsteps, he wouldn’t have heard them now because of the noise of the river under the bridge.
Where a broken remnant of stone wall concealed a delivery door to one of the shops, there was a sudden a movement, and a dark shape on the edge of his vision. Before Cooper could turn towards it, he felt himself pushed heavily, and he fell hard against the door. Along with the sudden jolt of pain from the impact, he heard a thud of something hitting the door alongside him. Then there were feet clattering on the setts as someone ran off down the alley.
Cooper tried to push himself away from the door to run alter them, but found he was unable to move. There was a strange tightness in his right side, and he couldn’t force his body away
C’ O ‘ ^ V
from the door. It was as if he had lost all the strength down his right side. There was no real pain, except from his shoulder where it had collided with the door. He tried to raise his right arm above his head. It wouldn’t move all the way, but was held back by the tightness in his side, so that his arm hung ridiculously in mid-air. He felt like a man patting an invisible small boy on the head.
Feeling ridiculously embarrassed, he lowered his arm again. Then he concentrated on each part of his body in turn, wondering if there was a serious, major pain somewhere that he had missed. Perhaps his brain had suppressed it, and the agony would hit him in a moment. Perhaps he was in a state of shock. He had heard of badly injured people who carried on moving for several minutes before their wounds overwhelmed them and they collapsed.
Cooper clearly remembered an impact. And he knew, too, that he had heard a faint crunching of flesh and bone. Now his body refused to allow him to move to pursue his assailant. Something was definitely wrong.
He bent his head to look down at his side. Blood was soaking through the lining of his coat. A thick drop of it trickled from the hem and landed in the snow, splashing on
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the fro/en surface. The blood was very dark, so dark that it was almost purple.
As the adrenalin drained away from his limbs and icy water dripped on him from the guttering, Ben Cooper began to feel very cold.
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26
IJiane Fry had not seen Eddie Kemp before. But when the man coming up the alley dodged back into the shadows as soon as he saw the light of her torch and the uniform of the officer next to
o
her, she had no doubt who he was.
She used her radio as she ran. ‘Ben he’s headed back downhill towards Eyre Street. We’ve got him boxed in. Ben?’ She got no reply, but assumed he was too busy closing in from the other direction. Cooper was never a man to use more words than necessary when communicating with other people.
Round the corner Fry ran headlong into the man she had been
chasing. He had stopped suddenly on the bridge when he saw the other uniformed officer approaching from Eyre Street.
‘Edward Kemp?’
The man stepped back and swung a punch at her. Fry deflected it easily. He was far too heavy and slow, and she had kept her roe Awon Jo skills sufficiently honed to make her responses good. Within a few seconds, she had his arm behind his back and his face against the stone wall.
o
‘Edward Kemp or not, you’re under arrest.’
The two uniforms got the cuffs on and took the man away. Fry looked round. Still no Ben Cooper.
‘Damn it, Cooper, arc you doing your shopping again, or what?’
Her voice had risen on the last few words and echoed in the alley. The only answer was the noise of the river running under the bridge and the dripping of water from the roofs. Up on the road, the door of the patrol car slammed.
He’d said he was at the market square end of Nick i’ th’ Tor. Somewhere over the bridge then, past the bookshop and round the corner.
