Cooper wondered why a man who ought to have been looking forward to freedom had instead been contemplating imprisonment for eternity.
‘Delta Storm,’ said Gavin Murfin. ‘Well, I ask you. It sounds like something named by one of those Rambo wannabes.’
Details of the crossbow stolen from Raymond Proctor’s house had been distributed, and Ben Cooper had brought back the manufacturer’s instruction manual from Wingate Lees. The prospect of Mansell Quinn being in possession of this weapon had changed the mood in the incident room,
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though there was a certain amount of nervous joking among the team while DCI Kessen went upstairs for a top-level meeting.
DI Hitchens flicked through the handbook. ‘Cooper, is Mr Proctor’s crossbow black or this camouflage style?’
‘Black, he says.’
‘Is Quinn experienced with a crossbow?1 asked Diane Fry.
Hitchens looked up. ‘Where would he have got one to practise with, for heaven’s sake? I don’t suppose they let him have one in prison, did they?’
‘Who knows? He probably got it delivered to his cell by mail urder.’
‘You don’t need a licence, and there’s no register either. They’re not even classed as firearms. As far as I recollect, the only restriction on them is that they can’t be possessed by anyone under the age of seventeen.’
‘The Crossbows Act 1987,’ said Fry. ‘I looked it up. Even those restrictions don’t apply to crossbows with a draw weight of less than 1.4 kilos.’
Cooper had no idea how powerful that was in crossbow terms. A bag of sugar weighed a kilo. It didn’t sound a lot, but how much force was needed behind an aluminium bolt to kill someone? Not a huge amount, if you hit them in the right place. He checked the details of the Delta Storm again. It had a draw of one hundred and fifty pounds. About sixty eight kilos.
‘He took some hunting bolts, and a bow bag as well,’ he said. ‘The Delta Storm can be folded up when it’s not in use. They call that a “compact”. It has fold-down limbs, a telescopic stock and a pivoting foot claw, and it weighs only five pounds. When it’s in the bag, Mr Proctor says you’d never know what Quinn was carrying.’
‘And the bolts he took - aluminium, rather than plastic?’
‘Yes.’
‘Could an aluminium bolt kill somebody?’
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I
‘If fired with enough force,’ said Cooper. ‘Certainly.’
A draw of one hundred and fifty pounds was more than
enough force. And according to the manual, the Delta Storm
had a hunting range of forty yards.
DI Hitchens gestured Cooper into his office a few minutes later, and shut the door behind them. More bad news?
‘Cooper, DS Fry tells me you’ve been getting a bit too involved in reviewing the Carol Proctor murder,’ he said. ‘I know I was the one who suggested that you look at the files, but only because I hoped it would put your mind at rest. The derails are no longer relevant to the present situation. You need to be concentrating all your time and effort on finding Mansell Quinn, with the rest of the team.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Hitchens looked at him sharply, detecting the uncertainty in his voice.
‘Do you have a problem with that?’
‘Sir, it just feels as though there was something not quite right with Quinn’s conviction.’
Hitchens turned towards the window. Cooper wasn’t sure if he actually found any comfort or inspiration from looking at the back of the Edendale FC stand - especially as he was a Chesterfield fan.
‘To all intents and purposes, it was a domestic,’ said Hitchens. ‘Practically a self-solver.’
‘Except that Quinn didn’t confess.’
‘Not right then. But later, he accepted guilt.’
‘Why do you think that was?’
‘If you ask me, he was just badly advised by his defence team. These days, they’d have made great play of the past history between Quinn and your father. But the judge wouldn’t have accepted it then. It wouldn’t have been considered relevant to the case.’
Cooper felt guilty that he should be so troubled by that.
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Even in fourteen years, the world had become more cynical. And inevitably, the cynicism all around had rubbed off on him, colouring his own reactions.
Hitchens paused, reading Cooper’s troubled expression. ‘Joe Cooper was very highly regarded as an officer of honesty and integrity. As I’m sure yon know, Ben.’
‘Yes, of course I do,’ said Cooper, flushing at the implied rebuke.
‘Mansell Quinn was convicted and sentenced,’ said Hitchens. ‘There was no appeal, and no attempt to take it to the Criminal Cases Review Commission. So that’s the end of that, as far as we’re concerned. The important thing is what’s going on in Quinn’s mind now.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Quinn knew who Joe Cooper was, no doubt about that. And if he put some of the blame for his conviction on your father, then you might have cause for concern. You’d be wise to tread carefully, and take precautions. But the
