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compensation, maybe? The police have got money. My money, from the Council Tax.’

      ‘I can’t imagine so. Think of it as a public service.’

      Owen looked at Cooper, but Cooper just smiled.

      ‘Balls to that,’ said Leach.

      ‘Come on, Warren.’

      Leach tossed the coupling pin into his other hand, slapping it against his palm. On a plastic drum, he had a square leather-bound case with steel clasps. Cooper wondered what it was. Somehow it didn’t look like a piece of farming equipment, more the sort of thing a doctor might carry his kit in for testing a patient’s blood pressure.

      ‘Only for a day or two, and that’s it,’ said Leach. ‘Tell your police friends they’ll have to get a move on. Let ’em work the same hours that I have to work to keep this farm going, instead of knocking off for tea every five minutes. I’ve seen it going on. I’m not stupid.’

      ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Cooper politely. But the farmer only glowered. ‘When would be convenient for an officer to come and talk to you?’

      ‘What?’

      ‘We need to take a statement from you. You’re well positioned here to be a witness.’

      ‘A witness to what? I went through all this with that other bloody woman that ended up on my land. I never saw this one either.’

      ‘Do you know who she was?’

      ‘Of course not.’

      ‘Then how do you know you didn’t see her?’ Cooper smiled. ‘Somebody will probably call tomorrow to see you.’

      The two men began to walk back towards the Ranger’s Land Rover.

      ‘I’ll be back to see you soon, Warren,’ said Owen.

      ‘Don’t bother, Ranger. As soon as I see that red jacket of yours, I’ll be halfway to Bakewell.’

      They almost ran right into Yvonne Leach in the gateway as they drove out of the yard. She was a small woman, with wide hips and strands of light brown hair tied loosely back from her face. Owen stopped the Land Rover, and the woman shied away, as nervous as a sheep, rolling her eyes at the vehicle. But she couldn’t slip past quickly enough.

      Owen wound down the window. ‘Yvonne – all right?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘We’ve just had a word with Warren. I wanted to tell you not to worry about what happened up there. There are plenty of police about here. You’ll be OK.’

      ‘I’m not worried,’ said Yvonne, though to Cooper’s eye she looked as scared as any woman he had ever seen.

      Warren Leach’s angry bellow came from the yard. ‘Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Get in the house.’ They looked round and saw him glaring at Yvonne. She took the chance of sliding along the side of the Land Rover and scuttling round the corner.

      Owen drove on up the track. They had to open two gates to get any further, and the Ranger took it slowly to avoid alarming the cows.

      ‘Marriage,’ he said, after a minute.

      ‘What about it?’ said Cooper.

      ‘The most bizarre thing ever invented, in my opinion. You must see what I mean, in your job. Couples tied together for no apparent reason, making each other’s lives a misery. Isn’t marriage one of the major factors in crime? Domestics, you call them. Aren’t ninety per cent of murders committed by the spouse?’

      ‘Something like that.’

      ‘Well, I rest my case. Weddings ought to be banned, along with other blood sports.’

      ‘I thought the police were cynical, but I don’t think I’ve reached your stage, yet,’ said Cooper.

      Then Owen looked at Cooper sideways and waggled his eyebrows. ‘I can see you’re not married yourself. You don’t have that harassed look. You weren’t thinking about it, by any chance, were you?’

      ‘Well …’ Cooper considered the answer for a moment. ‘I suppose it’s kind of the way I see my life going, some day.’

      ‘Mmm. Well, close your eyes or look the other way, then.’

      The Ranger pulled the Land Rover on to a flat area of bare earth under a stand of beech trees. They were about two hundred feet further up towards the moor, looking down on the farm buildings and the fields around them. Beyond the farm was the village of Ringham Lees, its lights just visible in the trees in the valley bottom; and further away in the darkness, almost hidden by a spur of hill, were the spires of the two churches in the bigger village of Cargreave.

      ‘Tell your lot they can park here,’ said Owen. ‘The Virgins are just over the rise. That way to the right leads into Top Quarry. Just ask if you want anything else. They say I’m the man who knows these parts.’

      Cooper found the cab of the Land Rover was comfortable and warm, full of things that had a practical use, yet without the slightest conscious attempt at imposing the driver’s personality.

      ‘Do you live locally, Owen?’ he asked.

      ‘I’ve got a house over there in Cargreave.’

      ‘I take it you’re not married either?’

      ‘Me? You must be joking. I may not be Einstein, but I’m not that stupid.’

      ‘A bad experience?’

      ‘Other people’s experiences are enough for me, mate. I’ve watched them all go the same way. Those young lads that you meet, full of enthusiasm and vitality, all their lives in front of them. And what happens? A wife and a mortgage. Before you know it, they’re coming into work half-asleep because the new baby’s kept them awake all night, and then they’re moving house to make room for all the family. In the end, they have to get a new job that they hate, just so that they can pay for it all. It’s like getting a life sentence without having the pleasure of committing the crime, the poor sods. Not for me. There’s just me and the cats, since Mother died.’

      ‘Was that recently?’ asked Cooper. The loss of his own father was recent enough to make him curious about someone else’s experience of the death of a parent.

      ‘It was a year ago. She was very old, of course. And she never feared death, that was a consolation. I used to take her to church until she couldn’t get there any more. But she could see the church tower from her bedroom, and that seemed to be enough at the end.’

      ‘And your father?’

      ‘Oh, he’s been gone a long time.’

      ‘Don’t you find that losing a parent makes the one that’s left seem very precious?’ said Cooper.

      Owen looked at him cautiously. ‘Yes, you’re right. Actually, I think I might have worked with your father a time or two.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Cooper. ‘I’m sure you did.’

      After a moment’s silence, Owen chuckled into his beard. ‘No, I’m on my own. I’m a happy bachelor. Young, free and single, that’s me. Well … two out of three’s not bad. Nobody’s really free.’

      Cooper nodded. But he wasn’t thinking about Owen Fox. He was thinking of Yvonne Leach and the two boys he had seen at Ringham Edge Farm. It was one thing to live a life restricted by obligations, in the way that Owen described. But it was another thing altogether when it was fear that ruled your life.

      And Cooper’s instincts told him that what he had seen at the farm was exactly that. It might be superficially concealed from the outside world, but it was bubbling very close to the surface. The Leaches were people whose lives were ruled by fear.

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