‘Ben, why won’t you give me the opportunity to help you?’ she said.
But she turned away before he could reply and began to slither back across the grass verge towards the activity in the woods. She didn’t want to look at him any longer. She didn’t want to see the answer in Cooper’s eyes.
Cooper raised his eyes from the ground and looked up at the series of jagged stones rising above the woods.
‘Have you looked in the rocks?’ he called.
Fry stopped and followed his gaze. ‘Why would we?’
He hesitated, then shrugged. ‘No reason.’
Fry immediately regretted her response. Of course there was a reason. He wouldn’t have suggested it without one. She was just being too obtuse to see it, and too stubborn to listen to his suggestions. And Cooper had changed. He was no longer in the frame of mind to persist in the face of her stubbornness. That shrug told her quite clearly that he’d given up. He couldn’t be bothered trying again, wouldn’t make the effort to explain his thoughts. Why should he, when she dismissed them so easily? Fry realised she was treating him as if he was the same old Ben Cooper just because he looked so much like his former self on the surface. But he wasn’t the same. Something inside him had been changed.
‘Do you know anything about those rocks?’ she said.
‘No. But they’re a good place for somebody to watch from, aren’t they?’
‘What? Who?’
Fry shook her head in despair. It was always like this when Cooper was around. He made her feel she had no idea what she was doing, because she was lacking the important knowledge that he was privy to.
She wondered why Carol Villiers was here too. Had she been called out to the scene? Well, that was something she could deal with later.
‘There are caves as well, you know,’ said Cooper.
‘What?’
‘Caves. It’s limestone, so there are always caves. They’re hidden by the trees in summer. But there are several caves at the foot of these cliffs. You should get someone to check them out.’
‘I will.’
Fry learned that the farmer, Bill Maskrey, had confronted an off-roader in the woods. He’d described a man on a trail bike sliding down the hillside through the trees, spraying mud everywhere. He’d almost been at the stream when he stopped and dismounted.
Maskrey had been carrying his shotgun, and he’d fired a warning shot. All hell had broken loose then, of course. Most of these officers were here because a weapon had been discharged. Maskrey had been detained to explain himself, as was procedure in these cases.
There was no sign of the trail biker except for deep ruts carved into the hill, heading towards the rocks above.
Fry knew that Sparrow Wood wasn’t alone in this problem. Protestors had been complaining about several sites in the national park being carved up by off-roaders. Organisations had been lobbying for action at locations like Long Causeway, near Stanage Edge. But off-roaders had staged counter-protests too. There was always the potential for conflict. But Mr Maskrey had stepped over the line on this occasion. That was all there was to it.
She decided to deal with Carol Villiers.
‘Carol,’ she said quietly. ‘Can I have a word?’
‘Of course.’
Villiers was waiting expectantly. When they were out of earshot, Fry leaned in closer.
‘When did you last speak to Ben?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘How does he seem to you?’
‘Oh … okay. Fine.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Well, not quite his usual self, obviously. But getting there.’
‘What did he talk about?’
‘This and that.’
Fry began to lose patience. ‘For God’s sake, why is this so difficult? It’s like interviewing a suspect who’s been told to go “no comment”. What are you frightened of telling me?’
Villiers grimaced and looked away. Yes, it was just like in the interview room, when your suspect felt a stab of guilt and didn’t want to meet your eye. Fry stared at her fixedly until she gave in.
‘He was asking me about Eliot Wharton and Josh Lane,’ said Villiers.
‘Oh, was he indeed?’
‘It’s perfectly natural. He wanted to know what was happening to them.’
‘He was fishing for inside information.’
‘I wouldn’t say that, Diane.’
‘Well, I would. And I know something else. He wouldn’t have dared to approach me or DI Hitchens to ask for that sort of information, so he came to you.’
‘I didn’t tell him anything.’
‘You might not have intended to. But I bet he got something out of you. He made sure you let your guard drop and began to feel sorry for him, didn’t he?’