Already Dead(83)

‘What is it you’re after? You must want something?’

Cooper turned at the sound of the voice, and found Josh Lane looking down at him, his hands thrust into the pockets of his anorak. The defiant expression was certainly deliberate now. He stood just out of reach, his boots firmly planted on the limestone, dirt from the path crumbling on to the embedded fossils.

It took Cooper a moment to recover from the shock.

‘Perhaps just to talk,’ he said.

Lane laughed. ‘I don’t believe that.’

‘It’s true.’

‘Look, I’m on bail. I’ve already been charged. So you can’t ask me any questions. You shouldn’t even be talking to me. My brief says once I’ve been charged and appeared in court, that’s it.’

‘You probably have a good defence lawyer.’

‘No, he’s just some duty solicitor they gave me.’

‘He’ll be all right,’ said Cooper. ‘Most of them are. But I’ve had the training. I know the way it has to be done.’

‘There are regulations. The Police and Criminal Evidence Act.’

‘That’s right, as a rule. But in fact there’s a paragraph in Code C of PACE. I don’t suppose you read it? It allows an interview after charge, if it’s necessary to prevent harm to another person or to clear up ambiguity in a previous statement.’

‘That’s an anti-terrorism measure, surely.’

Cooper shrugged. ‘It’s open to interpretation.’

‘So where’s the caution? What about “You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence”? Why aren’t you taking me down to the station? Where’s the interview room and the tape recorder? And why are you here on your own? Do you think I’m stupid?’

‘No, not that,’ said Cooper.

‘You’re going to be in big trouble, my friend. And we both know it.’

‘I want to hear from you if you understand what you did.’

Lane looked at him more closely. ‘You look like shit. You’re sick.’

Cooper nodded. ‘I’ve been better.’

‘What is this? Do you want me to say I’m sorry or something? It’s not going to happen.’

But there was nothing else to say now, nothing that was worthwhile, nothing that could help him or Liz. His fists clenched inside his waxed coat, Cooper continued to watch Lane, oblivious to the rain that was beginning to fall.

Lane shook his head, exasperated at his silence.

‘Come on, come on,’ he said. ‘Do something. What is it? Do you want to take a swing at me? Do it, then. That would finish your career for good. But maybe you don’t care.’

Cooper still said nothing.

‘Suit yourself, then. I’m out of here. But if you don’t stop following me— Well, if you come near me again, I’ll report you for harassment.’

He began to walk away, then turned as Cooper remained standing on the path.

‘You know, you’re sick,’ he said. ‘Sick.’

Cooper watched him go. How had he managed to let Josh Lane spot him so easily? Was he so out of practice? Or could it be that he’d deliberately revealed his presence? Had he intended that Lane should see him?

It was confusing, not knowing his own intentions. Right now, his emotions seemed to be leading him, instead of his brains or his professional instincts.

Lane probably thought Cooper would back off and give up after their confrontation at the National Stone Centre. But that would have defeated the whole object.

Cooper got back in his Toyota and kept Lane’s Honda in view as it drove back into Wirksworth. He followed it all the way through the town and into the Market Place, where Lane turned past Crown Yard and the Blacks Head pub and climbed the hill called West End. They passed through the Yokecliffe area and were soon out into the country heading towards Hopton.

By the time they reached the wetlands at the northern end of Carsington Water, Cooper’s mind had begun to stray towards the Knockerdown Inn again. Lane certainly had a tendency to be drawn to pubs. But instead he indicated right on the Carsington bypass and drove into the village past the little Gothic-style church, where the open grave had been filled in and marked with a brand new headstone.

Was he heading to the Miners Arms for a pint of Marston’s Pedigree? No, he was stopping just past it. Cooper didn’t slow down, but drove on towards the gardens of Hopton Hall.

There was no need for Prospectus Assurance flexitime. It was Saturday morning, and Ralph Edge was at home. Cooper had seen his Mercedes standing on the drive.





27





Sunday




Diane Fry had been expecting to be pushed out of the way at any moment. She knew better than anyone how these things worked. The Major Crime Unit would arrive, DCI Alistair Mackenzie and an entire team to take charge of the inquiry, including whoever had replaced her as a DS at St Ann’s in Nottingham. So far it hadn’t happened. The MCU had been too busy with ongoing operations, their resources stretched too far. There must have been discussions at a higher level, but no one had bothered to fill her in yet. She’d been quite happy to leave it that way. She’d been enjoying the freedom of action.