‘Battle wounds?’
‘Yes, that was the phrase.’
‘Didn’t you say a few moment ago that when you were hit by a paintball, you were out of the game.’
‘That seems to be the way it works.’
‘So how was it that Mr Turner was hit so many times in one game? Surely he would have been out on the first hit?’
‘Indeed.’ Chadburn even smiled a little now. ‘Many of those shots must have been fired at him after he was officially dead. Very much against the rules of the game, I imagine.’
Fry nodded. ‘I assume the adventure centre must have public liability insurance.’
‘Of course.’ Chadburn looked smug now, as if he’d been saving this nugget of information to himself. ‘But perhaps I don’t need to give you many guesses who their insurance policy is with?’
‘You’re joking.’
‘Not at all. In fact, because of their existing business relationship with Prospectus Assurance, the adventure centre gave them preferential rates on their team building weekends.’
Fry shook her head in amazement. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘Deliciously ironic, I think.’
‘So do you think Mr Turner would have had a case against them?’
‘When he came to me on Monday, I told him he was unlikely to have a case against the adventure centre itself, as the injury wasn’t caused by an act of negligence on their part – and I believe he signed a waiver before the game started. I expect the safety briefing mentioned a ban on head shots and so forth. Volenti non fit injuria.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘It’s Latin. To a willing person, injury is not done. It’s a common law doctrine, meaning that if someone willingly places themselves in a position where harm might result, they can’t bring a claim against the other party. But…’
‘What?’
‘Well, the person or persons who directly caused the injuries are a different issue. Consent wasn’t given to an actual assault. In my opinion, Mr Turner’s injuries might be considered to have resulted from the reckless act of another. I advised him that he could consider reporting the incident to the police as a criminal assault, possibly actual bodily harm. And I suggested that if he decided to pursue that course, he should get photographs taken of his injuries sooner rather than later. In fact, it provides more convincing evidence if the police take the photographs themselves. I’m probably telling you something that you already know, Detective Sergeant.’
‘But Mr Turner didn’t take your advice, did he? He never got to the point of reporting this incident as a criminal offence.’
‘No, I don’t believe so. I suspect he was having second thoughts. With all due respect to my client – my late client – he didn’t strike me as the most decisive of individuals. All I could do was advise him on his legal position. It wasn’t my place to persuade Mr Turner towards one course of action or another.’
‘What were his reservations?’
‘Oh, the consequences for the people involved. A criminal record, the loss of employment. It’s a serious matter.’
‘Did he name the individuals he believed caused his injuries?’
‘Oh, of course. After all, he knew everyone involved in that team building exercise. It was all in the family, so to speak. The named parties were two of his colleagues at Prospectus Assurance.’
Fry recalled Ralph Edge’s account of the staff being divided into teams based on their departments, which meant he’d been on the same team as Glen Turner. So who had they been competing against? Yes, that was it. Some of those women in Sales are merciless.
‘Are you going to tell me the names?’ she said.
‘Oh, well … I suppose that will be acceptable, in the circumstances.’
Chadburn made a performance of looking for a specific page in the file. He did it so slowly that Fry began to grow irritated. But she didn’t dare express her irritation out loud for fear that he might decide this was one detail he should claim confidentiality for.
‘Yes, here we are,’ he said finally. ‘The two gentlemen alleged to be responsible for my client’s injuries go by the names of Mr Nathan Baird and Mr Ralph Edge.’
24
Diane Fry never realised it could be so dark during the day. Even when there was a total eclipse, you got a bit of light creeping round the edges to remind you that the sun was still up there, the universe still functioning in the normal way. Today, there was almost no natural light in Edendale. The clouds were so dark that the sky seemed to have decided it could do without the sun.
She had to walk a couple of hundred yards from the offices of Richmond Jones in the Market Square to reach the car park where she’d left her Audi. In the distance, above the roofs of Edendale, she could see clouds lying against the hills on either side of the valley, blocking the skyline and swallowing the horizon.