"It had to be someone local."
"Why?"
"Well, who else was in the immediate area apart from locals?"
"n.o.body that we know of, apart from the party of four tourists we can"t identify."
"What about guests staying at the Light House?"
"They"d already stopped taking bookings before Christmas, remember? There was no one staying at the Light House."
"No one?"
"Well, no one who wasn"t local. No one except the Whartons themselves."
"Is that right?" Cooper turned suddenly to Murfin, who stopped chewing whatever it was he"d surrept.i.tiously sneaked into his mouth. "Gavin, when you finally got to the Light House that day, it must have been a few hours after the Pearsons had been reported missing?"
"Of course."
"Who was there?"
"At the Light House? Just the Whartons, and a couple of regulars."
"Which regulars?"
"Ian Gullick, Vince Naylor. They were always there. Practically lived in the place. They spent every hour they could in the games room."
"It was the day before Christmas, though."
"So?"
"Hasn"t everyone been telling us that the Light House was always closed over Christmas? If the pub was shut, what were Naylor and Gullick doing there?"
"I don"t know."
"You didn"t ask?"
"Ben, we were in the middle of a major search operation, not to mention the effects of a snowstorm. It never occurred to me to ask them what they were doing there. I suppose I just thought they were helping to clear the snow or something."
"How had they come? In a four-wheel drive, or what?"
"I don"t know. I can"t remember seeing anything. When I think about it, I don"t think even a four-wheel drive would have made it to the pub in those conditions. Our vehicles couldn"t. We had to walk."
"Yes," said Cooper, picturing the depth of snow covering the access to the Light House from the road. "There"s only one way anyone could have got up there. It would have needed a farmer with a tractor."
"I"m amazed this wasn"t followed up at the time," said Fry. "Here are two individuals who might have had a grudge against the Pearsons. They were witnessed having an argument with them forty-eight hours previously, and they were on the scene not long after David and Trisha disappeared. What was the SIO thinking of?"
"There were multiple witness statements taken from customers and staff who were at the Light House on the night after the argument," said Cooper. "Gullick and Naylor had no contact with the Pearsons that night. Maurice Wharton said he would never have let the two of them back into the pub if they hadn"t promised to behave themselves and stay away from the Pearsons. And by all accounts they did behave themselves. Apart from the angry words spoken the previous night, there was no suspicion against Naylor or Gullick, or any of their friends."
"We need to ask them some more questions."
"Of course. That"s what we"re here for."
"One more thing," said Fry. "Samantha Merritt gave us the names of some teachers she said her husband used to have a drink with sometimes after school. We talked to those teachers. And guess what? They said that a group of them often used to go for a drink, but that Aidan Merritt hardly ever joined them. They couldn"t explain why he would say that."
"And what do you think, Diane?"
She shrugged. "The usual reason would be an affair, wouldn"t it? You know, I"m going to be a bit late, dear a I"m just going for a drink with a few people from school."
"The usual reason," said Cooper. "But ... Aidan Merritt?"
"Why not Aidan Merritt?"
"I don"t know. He just doesn"t seem the type."
"You never knew him. Or wait a did you? Maybe you had a private chat with him at the Light House some time? During the Young Farmers" soiree maybe? A drunken get-together over a pint of Old Moorland, was it?"
"No," said Cooper calmly. "I"ve just talked to a few people about him. That"s what we do. We get an idea of what sort of person the victim was."
"You don"t need to to tell me how to do my job."
"I"m not trying to, but-"
"So can you think of another reason why Merritt would consistently lie to his wife about what he was doing after work?"
"Well, no."
"Okay. Then perhaps we could explore the possibility that he was having an affair."
"Fine."
"That wasn"t too difficult in the end, was it?"
Cooper watched her leave. He wondered if Fry actually thought she"d won him over, convinced him with the force of her argument and brought him on to her side. Well, she might want to believe that. But all she"d done was convince him that he"d have to find a new approach to the problem.
"We could try asking the first Mrs Rochester."
"Who?"
"Betty Wheatcroft," said Cooper. "Mrs Wheatcroft was very upset by the death of Aidan Merritt. She"s a bit nervous about being on her own, I think. In fact, she seems to be developing irrational fears about someone coming to her house to attack her."
"Violence like that can be very worrying to old people. They feel vulnerable, and they don"t really know where the danger might come from."
"Yes, you"re right. But in my view she was a little too upset. It wasn"t just a general fear. I"m sure Merritt meant something to her personally."
That morning, Superintendent Branagh sat Cooper down in her office. DI Hitchens was already there, leaning against the window. His jaw was set in a stubborn line, like a man who"d decided on a course of action and was determined to go through with it.
"DS Cooper, how is your team settling down?" said Branagh.
To Cooper, it sounded very much like preparatory small talk. His team had been settling down for months already.
"Very well, ma"am. Thank you."
"I"m delighted to hear it. We"re in for rough times, you know."
"We"ll survive, ma"am," said Cooper. "We"ll survive."
Branagh nodded, but he had the impression she hadn"t really been listening to the answer.
"I hate having to bring in outside help," she said. "I would prefer to feel that the division can do the job with its own resources. As you know, there"s only one thing I detest more. And that"s leaks to the press."
"Yes, I"m aware of that."
"But we had no choice in this case. The Major Crime Unit have taken responsibility for the Merritt murder inquiry."
She put an unusual amount of emphasis on the last few words. Cooper glanced at Hitchens, who raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement of some unspoken message.
The superintendent frowned, noticing the bruise on Cooper"s temple.
"Did something happen to you last night?"
Cooper automatically touched the sore place. "No, it"s nothing."
"Not falling out with your fiancee over the wedding plans, are you?"
Cooper tried to laugh politely, but Branagh wasn"t fooled.
"Oh well. None of my business, perhaps?"
"Thank you for asking, though," said Cooper.
"No problem. The thing is, DS Cooper, we want you to understand that the presence of officers from the Major Crime Unit doesn"t preclude us from taking appropriate action for ourselves when we think it"s necessary. For example, if new information should come to light in our ongoing inquiries into the disappearance of David and Patricia Pearson."
"Ah," said Cooper, a light beginning to dawn.
"Which," continued Branagh, "I believe you"ve been working on."
"I have, ma"am."
"Well, I would be very happy to hear we"d made some progress in our part of this operation. A suspect or two brought in for interview, perhaps. That would be good news, wouldn"t it? The sort of thing that would reflect well on E Division"s capability. Do we understand each other?"
"Perfectly," said Cooper.
He was sitting up straighter in his chair, feeling the adrenalin already surging through his veins at the prospect of action. Those bruises didn"t hurt at all, now he thought about it.
Cooper stood up to leave the office. Branagh held him back by fixing him with her steady, piercing gaze.
"DS Cooper," she said.
"Yes, ma"am?"
"Remember what I told you. Any problems or concerns you have, feed them back to me via your DI here. You have our full backing."
"I haven"t forgotten," said Cooper.
"In that case," she said, "I"ll take it you don"t have any problems."
Cooper strode back into the CID room. Everyone looked up as he entered, as if sensing the new mood in the air already.
"Luke," he said.
"Yes, boss?"
"Ian Gullick is running a greengrocer"s business, you said."
"He has a stall on the market in town twice a week," said Irvine. "The rest of the week he"s probably setting up pitches on other markets around the county. Chesterfield, Buxton, I don"t know where. But Edendale is his home ground."
"And what day is it today?" said Cooper.
"Thursday. Why?"
"Because it"s market day."
"Are we going shopping?" asked Villiers.
"No," said Cooper. "We"re going to make some arrests."
21.
Markets always seemed to be the coldest, windiest spots. He supposed it was in the nature of the layout a an open s.p.a.ce with streets funnelling into it from every direction. In winter, stallholders often shivered in heavy overcoats and fur hats, as if they were trading on a street market in Moscow.
Shop windows all around the market square in Edendale were filled with posters advertising the town"s campaign against the building of a new Tesco store. There was a Sainsbury"s Local right here on the market square, but many of the other businesses were independents.
The register office was still located here in the town hall, but the magistrates" court and county court round the corner had a less than promising future. Court facilities were being closed and centralised in bigger population centres, just like police stations Cooper had to admit that Edendale market wasn"t the most exciting in Derbyshire. Chesterfield and Bakewell were both better. On this side of the market, the main attractions seemed to be a fish van, a plant stall, a hot-dog trailer, and a trader selling Union Jack rugs.
Ian Gullick was doing business today on his vegetable stall. Piles of potatoes and carrots failed to hide his beer gut, which stretched a T-shirt and a leather money belt to breaking point. Though his stall was right in front of Jack"s Barbers, he clearly hadn"t been inside recently for a wash and cut.
"Okay, we"re going to go in nice and easy," said Cooper into his radio. "Gavin, can you see him from your position?"
"Yes, got him."