‘What do you think, Doc? Should we take a blood sample from him?’ called Murfin. ‘I don’t mean the dead man, I mean the undead one, so to speak. We might get a oms-match.’
Murfin barked with laughter. It was a very realistic bark, like the ‘arf-arf of a fat King Charles spaniel. It echoed off the banks of snow on either side and caused little avalanches on to the roadway. Mrs Van Doon took off her overshoes, piled her gear into the back of her car and drove off without another word, spraying a gallon of slush on to Murhn’s fur boots as she accelerated away.
‘Was it something I said?’ asked Murfin.
‘Oh no,’ said Ilitchens. ‘You’ve been eating garlic for breakfast again.’
Ben Cooper found the CID room icy cold and deserted. Obviously, the central heating radiators on this floor weren’t working again. He could smell food. Tomato sauce and garlic. So Gavin Murfm hadn’t been gone all that long. At any other time, Cooper would have opened a window to let in some fresh air, but his fingers were already starting to go so numb that he could barely hold a pen.
There were files piled on his desk, with yellow notes stuck all over them. It looked like a crop of daffodils had suddenly bloomed, despite the chilly air. He saw that one of the notes was much bigger than the others and was written in black marker
oo
pen of the kind used for exhibit labels. He didn’t know what to
40
do with it, or whether he should even touch it. For all he knew, it might be vital evidence in a forthcoming prosecution. All it said was: ‘We’ve got our heater back, you bastards!’ Cooper rang down to the control room. ‘DC Cooper here. Can you tell me what’s going on? ‘DC Cooper? We’ve been trying to contact you since seven fortv- two.’
‘Well, I’m here now. What’s going on?’ ‘You were supposed to be on duty at seven.’ ‘Yes, I know. You must have a record of the way I was lelt stranded with a prisoner on Hollowgate tor hall an hour waiting for a pick-up that never came? I had to walk up Spital Hill and meet a PC who couldn’t even stay on his feet for thirtv seconds.
v ^
He looked like a reject from the Northern Ballet Company. Since I got here, I’ve been processing the prisoner through custody.’
There was a pause as the operator consulted somebody in the control room. ‘We’re a bit stretched at the moment,’ she said.
‘Tell me about it.’
‘There are several messages from DS Fry,’ said the operator accusingly. ‘Three o( them are marked urgent.’
Cooper sighed. ‘So where am I supposed to be, apart from three places at once?’
‘The body of an unidentified white male was found on the A57 Snake Pass, two hundred yards west of the Snake Inn,’ said the operator.
‘Is the road clear?’
‘According to our latest information, it’s passable with care.’
‘OK, I’m on my way.
‘Er, we do have some later messages,’ said the operator.
‘Yeah?’
‘I could probably just skip to the last one. It says: “Don’t bother.”’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I suppose it means they’ve managed without you, dear.’
Cooper blinked. Suddenly, the control-room operator sounded like his mother. Or at least, like his mother used to belore she became ill.
41
‘Thanks a lot,’ he said, and put the phone down. lie looked again at the files on his desk. It seemed he was muggins again,
the sucker landed with the work that nobodv else wanted, not
j
when there was something more interesting to do. And it was all because he had set off for work early and found Eddie Kemp in that cafe. Next time, he would know better. Next time, he would pretend he hadn’t recogni/ed the suspect, as ninety per cent of his colleagues would have done when they weren’t officially on duty. That’s exactly what he would do next time. Maybe.
Cooper slouched across the room to see if he could dredge any warmth out of the radiator. As he moved, his left foot squelched.
Frank Baine banged the bell for a third time. There was no response.
‘Well, if you’re sure you’ll be all right,’ he said.
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Alison Morrisscv.
She stood in front of the deserted reception desk with her bags, i he lobby was like no other hotel she had ever seen. It was dark, and it seemed to be full of ancient potted plants and stuffed fish in glass cases. It was also deserted. Baine had already put his head round all the visible doors to try to find a member of staff.
‘Someone will appear in a second,’ said Morrissey.
‘We’ve got the meeting with the police at nine o’clock
o o I
tomorrow morning,’ said Baine. ‘I’ll pick you up here about eight-thirty, shall I? It isn’t far.’
‘That will be great. And thank you, Frank.’
