‘What?’
‘How many years’ experience, Gavin? How long have you been in CID?’
Murfin didn’t answer. He opened his crammer and pretended to be studying a page.
‘Come on, Gavin - how many years?’
‘Eleven,’ said Murfin casually.
Cooper let out a long breath. ‘Ah. Tenure. That explains everything. You’ve only got a year left, at most. And you don’t want to go back into uniform. Gavin, you’re getting desperate.’
‘Do you find the idea of me being promoted to sergeant inconceivable?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘Thanks a lot.’
Cooper laughed, then instantly felt guilty - not for laughing at Gavin, but because it didn’t seem right that he should have something to laugh about right now.
They both looked up as Diane Fry came into the room. Her face was dark with irritation.
‘Hey up,’ said Murfin quietly. ‘Are we in for another go at boosting morale?’
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‘Shh. You’ll just wind up her again,’ said Cooper.
‘Well, these team-building exercises are wearing me down, Ben. I’m getting emotionally exhausted from all the love I feel for my colleagues.’
Fry approached Cooper immediately. ‘Ben, the DI says he’s given you the name of some old professor to talk to.’
‘Yes. I’m hoping to see him this afternoon.’
‘When you get back, have a word with me, will you? I need to make a judgement on whether he might be of use in another enquiry. So I’ll be interested in your opinion of him.’
‘You’re not usually very keen on outside experts, Diane,’ said Cooper.
‘Personally, I wouldn’t touch him with a bargepole. But I need a reason to justify my decision not to use him. Follow?’
‘You want me to come back and tell you he’s useless, right?’
‘Frankly, I expect you to come back and tell me he’s some barmy retired academic who drinks too much and has long hair, a smelly dog and holes in his cardigan, but likes to be visited by nice young police officers. Anything like that will do.’
As Fry walked off, Murfin pointed at a page in his sergeant’s crammer, marked with a yellow Post-it. ‘“A supervisory officer should always be prepared to justify any decision,”’ he said. ‘See - I could do that.’
‘Hey,’ said Cooper, ‘if you’ve been raiding the reference library, did you happen to see that big dictionary?’
‘It’s on the shelf over there.’ ‘Thanks.’
Cooper lifted the book down and flicked through the pages. There it was - Thanatology: The scientific study of death and the phenomena and practices relating to it. From the Greek Thanatos, meaning death.
Lovely. His professor was the genuine Dr Death.
Ill
Ellen Walker’s home was a double-fronted stone villa in the middle of a nineteenth-century terrace near the parish church. The very last house in the row had been converted into a shop at some time, but now the shutters were down and there was no sign of what had once been sold. By the look of the lace curtains at the first-floor windows, somebody still lived in the flat above the shop. A retired greengrocer or ironmonger, perhaps, driven out of business by Tesco or the massive B&Q store on the outskirts of town.
Through panes of frosted glass in the door of number 15, Cooper had a distorted glimpse into the hallway. All four windows at the front of the house had their blinds pulled down far enough to cover the upper sashes.
‘Mrs Walker?’ said Cooper when a middle-aged woman answered the door.
‘Are you from the police?’
‘Detective Constable Cooper, Mrs Walker.’
‘It’s Ellen.’
‘Thank you very much for calling us. You understand the circumstances? Why we had the facial reconstruction done?’
‘Well, I saw the photograph in the newspaper. My neighbour showed it to me. I didn’t really understand why it was there, but I was fairly sure …’
‘Let’s just take a look at it again first, shall we?’
Cooper didn’t like the sound of ‘fairly sure’. It would be better to let the witness come to her conclusion more slowly.
Ellen Walker seemed nervous at being visited by the police. It was so refreshing that Cooper forgot for a moment that it was so often a sign of guilt. He looked at the Victorian-style fireplace with its raised slate hearth. Disappointingly, it contained a coal-effect gas fire that had nothing Victorian about it. The windows faced on to the street, but through the kitchen he saw a conservatory leading on to a patio area enclosed by low gritstone walls.
‘The newspaper reproduction might not have been of very
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good quality. This is the original, Ellen. Take your time and have a good look at it. Bear in mind some of the details might not be exactly accurate. The hairstyle, for example.’
