mounted on the gateposts provided drivers leaving the property with a view round the blind bend to warn of oncoming traffic. This was certainly an area to drive with care, thought Cooper. The lane was only wide enough for one vehicle, and those stone walls looked pretty unyielding.
He drew up in front of the house and parked next to a brand-new Mini Clubman.
‘Who lives here?’ asked Villiers as she got out of the car.
‘Some people named Nowak,’ said Cooper. He checked his notebook. ‘Richard and Sonya, and Mr Nowak’s father, Adam.’
‘Polish?’
‘At some time.’
Villiers shaded her eyes as she studied the house. Cooper couldn’t resist the impression that she was scanning the horizon for potential enemies. A group of insurgents, a suspect vehicle on the skyline.
‘They are only possible witnesses at the moment,’ he said. ‘We’re canvassing all the immediate neighbours in the hope that one of them might have seen or heard something on the night of the attack on the Barrons.’
‘Yes, I understand.’
‘The grounds of Valley View are just across the lane there. That wall is their boundary. We don’t know which way the attackers came in, but this lane is one of the possible approaches. And, as you can see, it ends here.’
‘At Lane End.’
‘Exactly.’
Richard Nowak was older than Cooper had anticipated. He didn’t know why he’d expected to meet someone in their thirties or forties, but Nowak was clearly in his early sixties. Well, that wasn’t old these days. And he was undoubtedly fit and healthy. He had sandy hair cut very short, and large hands with a powerful grip as he shook Cooper’s.
‘It’s so nice to see police officers flocking to the premises,’ he said with a sardonic smile.
‘Sir?’
‘When we had our shed broken into a while ago, the police didn’t even come. They said there would be no forensic evidence, so there was no point in investigating. When we had the quad bike stolen, they didn’t do anything then either. Oh, they were happy to counsel us as victims of crime, but they made it clear that they weren’t going to try to find out who’d stolen the bike, let alone get it back. But when you’re driven to take the law into your own hands, they arrive in force and arrest you. They treat us as if we’re the criminals.’
‘You should have had a visit from a scene-of-crime officer.’
‘Yes, a civilian.’
‘Most of them are. They’re just as professional.’
‘And yet now we have a crime at my neighbours’, and the police are out in force. Three detectives have been to my house in the space of twenty-four hours. I’m so lucky.’
‘Well, we’re doing our best, sir.’
‘That was a detective you sent yesterday?’ said Nowak. ‘He ate a lot of my wife’s chocolate cake.’
‘Detective Constable Murfin. He’s very experienced.’
‘Yes, his experience shows in his waistline.’
Cooper introduced Carol Villiers and watched as she returned Nowak’s firm handshake. He found that he was looking forward to getting her impressions of the man. He already knew he could trust her opinion.
‘We’re sorry to bother you again, sir,’ said Cooper. ‘But the fact is, your property is in a very strategic position here, from the point of view of our inquiry.’
‘I know, I know. You think the people came up this lane. And if they did, I ought to have seen them. And if they came in a car, they would have turned round in my driveway. But I can’t tell you whether any of that happened. I didn’t see anything, nor did my wife.’
‘Your father also lives here?’
‘My father was already in bed at that time. He’s not in the best of health.’
Cooper looked at the front of the house. ‘What sort of view do you have from your front window? Can you see the gate?’
‘Not quite.’
‘And you don’t have CCTV, I noticed.’
‘No, unlike some of my more wealthy neighbours. So, as you can see, we would not be able to tell if someone drove up this lane and turned round.’
‘Would you mind if we take a look along the boundary on this side, sir?’
‘Help yourself.’
Villiers accompanied Cooper as he followed a flagged path towards the right-hand corner of the property. According to his sketch map, the house he could just see through the trees was South Croft, home of Mrs Slattery, the doctor’s widow. Croft Lane ran just behind the hedge towards Nowak’s. But the lane was so narrow and empty of traffic, he wouldn’t have known it was there.
‘What are you looking for?’ asked Villiers.
‘I want to get a good idea of the layout in this area, the way the properties adjoin each other. Who neighbours who, and how well they can see the approach roads.’ Cooper looked at her apologetically. ‘I realise that might sound a bit strange.’
‘Not at all. You need to know the ground. It’s vital.’
They walked back past the gate, where the gravel drive swept up to the house. Cooper glanced out on to the lane, then back up at the Nowaks’ house. Richard Nowak was still watching them from his front door, his arms folded, sleeves rolled up over muscular forearms.
‘He’s not missing much now,’ said Villiers quietly.
Cooper restrained a smile. ‘Have you noticed that there’s one feature we can see from here? If you look down the lane…’
‘Another set of gates. Rather grand ones.’
‘It’s the entrance to Riddings Lodge. Mr Edson. Quite a statement, aren’t they?’
‘And he has CCTV, I imagine?’
‘Oh, yes. Why?’
‘Mr Nowak’s comment. Unlike some of my more wealthy neighbours.’
‘Ah. A little bit of envy creeping through there.’
‘Aren’t those gilt-edged gates all about provoking envy?’
Cooper nodded. ‘Of course. I wonder if there’s any envy of the Barrons, too?’
‘Can we see Valley View from here?’
Cooper pointed down the lane. ‘It’s close to where the road takes a bend there. See the big bank of rhododendrons?’
‘Yes?’
‘Those mark the boundary of the grounds at Riddings Lodge. Valley View and Fourways are on the other side of them.’
‘We’d better move, before Mr Nowak starts getting nervous,’ said Villiers.
The last section of boundary was a stone wall, which ran right up to the rough ground at the foot of Riddings Edge. Over the wall was more Edson territory. But the Nowaks and the Edsons had made sure they couldn’t see each other along this section. The wall was too high for that.
‘What next?’ asked Villiers.
‘I need to speak to Barry Gamble again. And I’m glad to have someone with me this time.’
‘Someone?’
‘Actually,’ said Cooper, ‘I’m glad to have you.’
When they left Lane End, Cooper noticed that his tyres had pushed the gravel up into waves like the wake of a boat. It was laid so deep and soft that every vehicle, no matter how small, must leave this impression. The marks of the Mini Clubman’s tyres would be just as visible as those of his Toyota. He supposed someone must rake this stuff back into place regularly to keep it looking neat. Otherwise there would soon be wheel ruts worn into the drive, and bare earth exposed. And that would never do.
Bare earth? Cooper looked back at the drive again as he reached the gate. If there was bare earth under this gravel, he could see no sign of it. No weeds broke the white surface – not a single blade of grass trying its luck.
