‘Perhaps not useless,’ said Cooper. ‘But certainly misguided.’
She sighed. ‘I think it was all part of the thrill originally. A bit of an adventure, getting away from our humdrum lives. We all enjoyed the thrill of the risk. Though we never really believed, deep down, that there was much actual danger. It was more the thought of it. The concept. Do you know what I mean? We even used to laugh about what a reckless and foolhardy bunch we were. We thought we were taking on a challenge, flouting the rules in our own way. Just like the original mass trespassers, I suppose.’
Cooper nodded, though her explanation sounded unconvincing. If it had come from one of the others — Darius Roth, perhaps — it might have made sense. Had she just taken on someone else’s beliefs, accepted the views of a more forceful personality as her own? In Cooper’s mind, the New Trespassers Walking Club was beginning to sound more like a cult, with a leader being followed unquestioningly.
But that wasn’t right. One of them at least had questioned the leader.
‘Tell me about this argument,’ he said. ‘What were Darius and Nick arguing about?’
‘Everything. Whether we were lost, who should do what, which of us should go in what direction...’
‘And that was normal?’
‘Yes.’
‘And there was Faith,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Well, I think Faith was going to point out that it doesn’t matter what network your phone is on — you can make an emergency 999 call through any available network.’
‘Was she the only one of the group who knew that?’
‘I can’t say. I must admit I didn’t know it myself. I’ve never had the occasion to dial 999 in my entire life.’
‘What, never?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘You’ve lived a sheltered existence, Miss Pullen.’
Sophie smiled. ‘I think there was always someone else there to make the call before me. People tend to fall into two groups in an emergency, don’t they? There are those who know exactly what to do and get on with it, and others who stand around helplessly waiting for someone else to make a decision. I’m afraid I’m in the second group.’
‘So did Darius make the decisions for the group?’
‘Usually.’
‘Did he, for example, make the decision about who should stay with the casualty and who should go to get help?’
‘No, we all volunteered to go.’ She paused. ‘At least, I did and the Goulds.’
‘But Nick didn’t volunteer?’
‘It just seemed to be understood that he would go. Darius was speaking directly to Nick when he suggested it. There was no argument from him. Not about that, anyway. Darius assumed he would go and he went. He was never given the choice.’
‘But Nick didn’t always jump to do what Darius wanted.’
‘Nick’s different,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t see Darius in the same way as some of the others. Nick is a sceptic, you see. He scoffs at the story of the Kinder Mass Trespass, makes references to Darius’s ancestor being a Communist. I don’t know if you saw the hat he was wearing...’
‘I remember one of my officers mentioning it. The Russian Army hat with the red star on it.’
‘That’s right. He got it purely as a joke, as a dig at Darius. It wasn’t very subtle.’
‘So if Mr Haslam doesn’t respect the history of the Mass Trespass the way the rest of you do, why did he join the walking club?’
‘He came because I asked him,’ said Sophie. ‘The first time, anyway. After that, I think he enjoyed it in his own way.’
‘What was your view of Faith Matthew?’ asked Cooper.
‘Faith? I didn’t know her that well. Like the others, she was brought into the group by Darius.’
‘You must have spoken to her sometimes.’
‘A bit.’
Cooper pictured the group. They were very diverse. But Faith Matthew and Sophie Pullen were the two who seemed to have most in common. A similar age and background at least.
‘Didn’t you like her?’ he asked.
‘I wouldn’t go that far.’
That seemed to answer his question. Sophie hadn’t liked Faith, but she didn’t want to say so. Perhaps it was just a reluctance to speak ill of the dead.
‘And what is your relationship with Darius Roth?’ said Cooper.
That got quite a different response: Sophie’s expression became more much animated than when he’d asked about Faith Matthew.
‘I’ve never known anyone like him,’ she said. ‘He seems to have the ability to get people to do whatever he wants. It’s not as if he really tries very hard. There’s not much in the way of smooth talking about him, like you might imagine a used-car salesman, or an estate agent.’
Cooper hadn’t been imagining Darius Roth as a used-car salesman. More as a Charles Manson or a Jim Jones, with this corner of Hayfield the equivalent of Jonestown. But perhaps his imagination was leading him too far astray.
‘Is there anything else you can recall?’ he asked.
She hesitated, and again his interest was piqued.
‘I’m not sure about this,’ she said. ‘But Darius once told us he knew how to commit the perfect murder and get away with it.’
‘Really?’
‘He said he’d been told by a Home Office pathologist he once met that if you can get someone up onto a high place like a cliff, or to the edge of a steep drop, then as long you don’t have any eyewitnesses who see you do it, it’s practically impossible to prove whether a person fell or was pushed.’ She gazed at Cooper. ‘Is that true?’
‘If it was, it wouldn’t be wise for me to tell you,’ said Cooper.
She nodded as if he’d confirmed the theory. ‘I think it’s probably true. No forensic evidence. You might have suspicions, but you can’t prove it.’
‘Who else was there when he told you that, Miss Pullen?’
‘Just Elsa, of course. She’s always there.’
‘Elsa doesn’t say much, does she?’
‘No, but there’s a lot going on under the surface.’
‘What do you mean, Sophie?’
‘Well, all I can say is, she’s not what she seems. She’s acting a role. Perhaps some people haven’t seen it, but I have. Elsa has never bothered hiding it from me. I suppose I’m not important enough in the scheme of things. There’s someone else behind that façade. You need to watch her eyes and you’ll see it.’
‘Thank you for the observation,’ he said.
‘I don’t suppose it’s of any use.’
He didn’t want her to realise how useful it might be, so he changed the subject.
‘Just to go back a bit,’ he said. ‘That cry you heard while you were on Kinder — you said it seemed a long way off.’
She shook her hand to move the bangles back on her wrist, an oddly elegant gesture.
‘Yes. Is that important?’
‘It might be.’
Cooper was remembering what Carol Villiers had said about high-pitched sounds being muffled by fog. The cry of a fox or bird wouldn’t have carried any distance. It must have been much closer to the group for Sophie Pullen to have heard it.
Carol Villiers had been sent to take a statement from Sophie Pullen’s partner, Nick Haslam. He’d returned to work at an IT company based on a business park off the M60 orbital motorway south of Manchester.
Haslam wore black stubble a bit too long to be fashionable, but not quite a beard. It formed dark ‘V’s on either side of his cheeks, which moved disconcertingly when he smiled. And he seemed forever to be smiling, or on the verge of it. He gave the impression that every answer was a joke.
‘I just have a couple of additional questions,’ said Villiers.
‘All right.’