‘It’s the South Yorkshire air support unit, Sierra Yankee 99. It was already in the air, and a lot closer than the unit in Ripley.’

Cooper could hear the helicopter now. If it had been deployed for a suspect search, it would already be using its thermal-imaging camera to sweep the ground along the edge of the village.

‘Are you in contact with them?’

The officer from the response unit had an Airwave radio, while Cooper had only his phone.

‘Yes, the observer is in direct communication. He can give us a commentary.’

The officer joined Cooper and Villiers on the lane. Nearby somebody, or something, had bulldozed a way through the undergrowth, leaving a trail like the charge of a rhinoceros.

‘What the heck has been going on here?’ said Cooper.

The noise of the helicopter overhead drowned out everything else. Cooper felt the downdraught of the blades stirring the bushes along the edge of the lane. Then a powerful light burst from the sky and dazzled him, lighting up the area for yards around.

‘Please tell Sierra Yankee there are police officers on the ground – and to get their damn light off us!’

‘They’re reporting multiple individuals going through the gardens at The Cottage,’ said the officer.

‘Multiple? How many?’

‘A dozen, at least.’

Cooper could still hear music thumping from the house. If the speakers were inside, they must have all the doors and windows open.

‘It’s the party. Can’t someone tell those kids to stop running around like maniacs and get back in the house? They’re only confusing the situation. They’re creating far too many heat signatures for the thermal imager.’

‘We spoke to them earlier, when we had complaints from their neighbours. They’ve been drinking all evening.’

‘So?’

‘Well, they’re not taking any advice from us. No doubt they think all this is a great laugh.’

‘Idiots.’

Villiers had pushed her way through the undergrowth and found a gate standing open.

‘Whoever they are, I think they went this way.’

They could see figures milling around now, many of them simply running round in circles. Solar lights had been set up in the Chadwicks’ garden, and teenagers were charging backwards and forwards, in and out of the lights, creating a chaos of shadows. Some were shaking bottles of beer and spraying liquid into the air.

‘How are we going to get this situation under control?’ said Villiers.

‘Without a lot more bodies on the ground, we’re not.’

Cooper grabbed a passing youth and held on to him.

‘Hey, who are you?’

‘Police. What’s going on here?’

The young man laughed. He was flushed and pouring with sweat, and his shirt was soaked with beer.

‘Intruder,’ he said. ‘They chased him off.’

‘Which way?’

He stared wildly around. ‘That way. Some of the guys went after him.’

Cooper looked at the PC, who was listening to his radio.

‘The helicopter crew are tracking the heat signature of a single figure running from the scene.’

‘Okay. Come on.’

The three of them had only gone a few yards towards the corner of the Chadwicks’ property, close to The Green, when the officer reported again.

‘The suspect has disappeared from the thermal imager. Gone to ground somewhere, or got inside a house.’

‘Where?’

‘In the vicinity of Chapel Close.’

‘This way, then.’

‘He’s on the move again. The observer on Sierra Yankee 99 is directing us to the second house on the right in Chapel Close.’

Cooper grimaced. ‘Oh God. That’s the Gambles’ house. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’

He could tell from the noises around him that more officers had arrived in Riddings, and were closing in on the location under the direction of the helicopter’s observer. Torch beams flashed towards him and away again. An Alsatian barked excitedly, and he pictured it straining against its handler’s lead.

He grabbed Villiers’ arm and pointed.

‘There he goes,’ he said. ‘Over the wall and running through that orchard. If we cut across the lane, we can catch him at the other side.’

‘I’m ahead of you.’

Villiers sprinted off, and was there first. She caught up with her quarry, grabbed an arm, kicked out a leg and flipped him on to the floor. Coming up behind, Cooper heard the breath go out of his body in a long whoosh.

By the time he arrived, Villiers already had handcuffs on and had patted the suspect down. She sat him up and Cooper gazed down at him, trembling with anger.

‘Mr Gamble. What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Gamble had lost his hat, and his hair was standing out from his head in a wild tangle. For several moments he could do nothing but gasp and wheeze. He stared around him in shock, as if he’d suddenly found himself in the middle of some surreal fantasy. His bushy eyebrows waggled in alarm, and he looked down at the cuffs on his wrists.

‘I wasn’t doing anything,’ he said plaintively.

‘What?’

‘That isn’t true.’ Cooper gestured at the activity – the running officers, the flashing lights, the swinging torch beams, and the helicopter hovering overhead. ‘You were the cause of all this.’

Gamble gazed up at him. His voice was feeble and wretched.

‘I was just watching.’

Straightening up, Cooper took a deep breath to calm himself down.

‘You know what? You do too much watching, sir. Far too much. You should spend more time at home, with your wife.’

They handed Gamble off to a pair of uniformed officers, who escorted him to his house. Other officers were trying to calm the teenagers and shepherd them back to the party. It was unclear what offence Gamble might have committed yet, until they could get a coherent account from someone, a few details about what had happened. Judging from the state of some of the participants, that might not be until morning.

Cooper looked at Villiers. ‘Thanks, Carol.’

‘It’s okay.’ She brushed her hands together. ‘But what’s this spend more time at home with your wife? Are you turning into a marriage guidance counsellor now?’

Cooper shook his head.

‘This village is turning me into something, though. And I’m not sure I like it.’

He turned away from Chapel Close and looked across the gardens of The Cottage. Finally, he could tell the direction the burglar alarm was coming from. The sound was much clearer now, screaming high-pitched and urgent across the village, calling endlessly for attention while all these people ran madly around in circles.

He could see it, too – a small red light blinking and blinking high on the corner of a wall, no more than fifty yards from Valley View.

He knew now that the alarm wasn’t at the Chadwicks’, where the party had been taking place. It was sounding at Fourways, the home of the Hollands.

It was already dark when Diane Fry drove into Edendale and turned into Grosvenor Avenue. She found a space at the kerb and parked outside the house.

When she pulled out her key to enter her flat, she noticed that she had streaks of blood on her hands. Strange that she hadn’t see it while she was driving back from Nottinghamshire. Her mind must have been on other things.

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