they?’
‘Maybe.’
Till mention it to the officer in charge,’ said Cooper.
‘But what else could rip a sheep’s throat out? A dog, maybe?’
‘A dog wouldn’t do so much damage. They’ll chase sheep, but they lose interest once they stop running.’
‘Has to be a big cat, then,’ said Murfin confidently.
‘Not at all.’
‘What then?’
373
‘There’s one other species that would inflict that kind of damage on an animal, and do it just for sport. The human species.’
Cooper watched one of the incident room staff place a new marker on the map. Mansell Quinn’s trail through the Hope Valley had reached Castleton, almost at the head of the valley. Cooper felt sure there would be a second location to add soon. But he had no doubt at all about Quinn’s final destination. Death Underground had some meaning for him and, somehow, he was intending to enter the cavern system. But he wouldn’t do that until he’d finished what he’d come to do. And they still didn’t know what names had been on Quinn’s list.
Raymond Proctor seemed to have aged ten years. Ben Cooper and Diane Fry found him at his desk, staring into space. Though no bottle was visible, a smell of whisky hung in the air. The office looked more untidy than ever. Only the rows of keys remained neat and orderly, as if Proctor thought their orderliness could resist the spread of chaos.
‘I’m really sorry about Will,’ he said. ‘But there wasn’t anything I could have done, was there?’
Fry didn’t seem inclined to ease his conscience.
‘Certainly. If you’d called us when Quinn came here on Wednesday night, we could have had him out of circulation and your friend would still be alive now.’
‘Yeah.’ Proctor looked towards the old filing cabinet. Maybe that was where he kept the whisky.
‘Also, if your crossbow had been properly secured, Quinn wouldn’t now be in possession of a lethal weapon. Would he, sir?’
‘No.’
‘Mr Proctor, do you have any idea who else might be in danger from Quinn? Did he say anything that might give us a clue?’
374
‘No, he didn’t.’
‘Because I’m sure you wouldn’t want another death on your conscience, would you?’
‘No.’
‘Please think carefully then, sir. What did he talk about?’
Proctor stared into space. ‘He talked about coming out of prison and things being different.’
‘Yes?’
‘He mentioned somebody else living in his old house.’
‘His old house? The one on Pindale Road?’
‘I suppose that’s where he meant.’
‘What else did he say, Mr Proctor?’
Proctor frowned. ‘He must have been thinking about Rebecca. That house in Pindale Road was their home - his and Rebecca’s. But she couldn’t wait to get away from it after what happened. Can’t say I blame her.’
‘Did you know her well, Mr Proctor?’
The did back then. She left the valley for a while when she married the second time, you know. She wanted to move back, but she had to have a brand-new house, which isn’t easy to get planning permission for. Anyway, they managed it, and Parson’s Croft was the result. Only trouble was, the new husband had a heart attack before the house was finished.’
‘That must have been tough.’
‘Not for Rebecca. She was quids in. Very comfortable.’
‘Comfortably dead.’
‘Well, yeah. She is now.’
‘She’d have been better off spending some of her money getting away from the area. Moving down south, or out of the country altogether.’
‘Probably. But you can’t help wanting to come back to where you belong, can you?’
Fry watched him. He did seem to be trying to help this time. ‘Anything else, sir?’
Proctor shook his head. ‘Nothing I can remember.’
375
‘We’d better have a word with your wife, then.’ ‘She won’t remember any more than me,’ said Proctor. ‘She hardly saw him.’
‘He was saying something about children when I came in here,’ said Connie when she was called into the office. ‘That’s all 1 remember. It was such a shock seeing him. But I knew straight away who he was.’
‘Whose children?’ said Fry.
‘Not Jason and Kelly, anyway - he’s never met them, thank God. In fact, he’d never met me until that night.’
‘It must have been his own children he was referring to, then? Simon and Andrea.’
