The thought created a series of associations in Cooper’s mind. Erin Byrne had mentioned that the phone calls to the Eden Valley Times had been made from a public call box somewhere. And one of the walkers Gavin Murfin had spoken to had mentioned seeing someone in the phone box in the centre of Riddings on Tuesday night, making a call.
It was a bit of a stretch. But it was one possible link in a case where nothing seemed to be connecting.
Nearby, an old Lister engine chugged, whirred, and belched out fumes. He saw that there were tractors, too. Not doing anything, just standing in a couple of rows like exhibits in a museum. One of the owners was leaning against his old grey Ferguson. In other years, Matt might have been here with his own Fergie. But not any more.
The first people Cooper recognised at Riddings Show were the Chadwicks. They seemed to have made a beeline for the book stall and snapped up all the Bill Brysons. Mrs Chadwick wore a blue anorak, and red cargo pants that stopped halfway up her calves, with white trainers. Her husband was in a green Craghoppers cagoule and matching straw hat. They looked as though they’d made a great effort to be casual. But William Chadwick wore a slightly hunted look, his eyes darting from side to side as he passed through the crowd, perhaps fearing to encounter a pupil or a member of staff from his school.
‘Mr and Mrs Chadwick,’ said Cooper.
They stopped, surprised. Mrs Chadwick almost dropped her books into the grass, but recovered her poise.
‘Oh. It’s…’
‘Detective Sergeant Cooper. This is my colleague, DC Villiers.’
Mr Chadwick remained frozen, words failing him for a moment, anxiety filling his eyes. A trickle of perspiration ran down his temple.
‘I’m really sorry to bother you,’ said Cooper. ‘I realise this is a social occasion. But there was something I wanted to ask you.’
‘Well… go ahead.’
‘Did you ever have any disputes with your closest neighbours in Riddings?’
‘Neighbours?’
‘Well, you live adjacent to the Hollands at Fourways, the Barrons at Valley View. Perhaps Mr Kaye at Moorside House?’
The Chadwicks looked at each other, but actually seemed relieved at the question.
‘There was an incident with Jake Barron a while ago,’ admitted Mrs Chadwick.
‘It was silly really,’ said her husband. ‘It was at a time when I was feeling particularly stressed. Because of, you know…’
‘The incident,’ said his wife. ‘It was a very difficult period, in both our lives.’
‘I understand.’
‘Anyway, the Barrons had a dog then.’
‘Did they?’
‘Yes, a Dobermann. They always had it out on the drive in a fancy collar, running about behind the gates. It used to bark incessantly.’
‘The Barrons told us once that Dobermanns are emotionally sensitive,’ said Mrs Chadwick. ‘And if they’re upset about anything, they bark. They claimed it was part of the animal’s duty as a guard dog. We politely suggested they might take the trouble to train it properly, but they took no notice, of course.’
Chadwick nodded. ‘Then one afternoon I couldn’t stand it any longer. It was going on for hour after hour, day after day. It was intolerable. We shouldn’t have to put up with that, should we? So when I saw him coming by in his car, I stopped him.’
‘What did he say when you confronted him?’
‘He became very aggressive. Started shouting and swearing at me. Threatening retaliation, just because I had the nerve to complain. Yes, he soon showed his true colours. The man turned into a foul-mouthed thug in front of my eyes. I’ve got to tell you, having them as neighbours has been like living next door to a family of yobs on a council estate.’
‘Yet they‘ve always thought they were so superior,’ added Mrs Chadwick. ‘It makes me sick.’
‘But the dog isn’t there now, at Valley View,’ said Cooper. ‘There was no sign of a Dobermann, or any other breed.’
‘No. It went, about a month ago.’
The Chadwicks looked at each other again. There were moments when Cooper wished he had the power to read minds. He would really love to know what this couple were thinking right now.
‘We heard it got sick and died,’ said Mrs Chadwick finally. ‘Sad for the animal, of course. But still…’
They were silent for a few moments, gazing at Cooper and Villiers as if they expected to be challenged.
‘I suppose you think we shouldn’t talk about the Barrons like this,’ said Mrs Chadwick. ‘In view of what happened, I mean.’
‘On the contrary,’ said Cooper. ‘We much prefer it if people tell us the truth, instead of holding information back.’
They watched the Chadwicks walk off towards the marquee. A few minutes later, Cooper saw their daughter drifting through the showground, dark hair hanging over her face, her manner giving the impression that she was far too sophisticated for all this nonsense.
‘Oh, hello,’ she said when he stopped her.
‘You’re off to university soon, aren’t you?’
‘God, yes. I can’t wait.’
‘Is it that bad?’
‘I need to get away. I have to get away from them.’
‘From your parents?’
‘Yeah. Well… from all of them. All the people here, in this place. Look at it. Our house is a like a prison inside a prison.’
She drifted away again, and was swallowed up by a group of young people. No doubt some of the same bunch that had been at the party on Thursday night.
The crowds were getting thicker now as the show became busier. The clothes on display were fascinating in themselves. Cooper saw pink wellies, white wellies with blue polka dots, wellies with roses on them. An incredible range of dogs was here at the show, too. Within a few yards he passed Great Danes, spaniels, pugs, golden retrievers, Airedales. There was even a St Bernard – and you didn’t see those very often. No Dobermanns, though.
He looked at Villiers, trying to decide if it was a good time to ask her a personal question.
‘I wondered,’ he said. ‘I thought you might have reverted to your maiden name when you came back here to Derbyshire.’
‘I suppose I ought to,’ she said. ‘Yes, you’re right, I should.’
‘But…?’
‘But?’ She turned her face away. ‘Well, Glen’s name is the only part of him that I have left. How could I just throw that aside?’
There was nothing he could say to that.
‘Let’s try down this way.’
From his sign, Cooper gathered that the children’s entertainer was called Doctor Woof. And the dog seemed to be called Trevor. Surely it would have made more sense if the entertainer’s name was Trevor and the dog was Doctor Woof? But perhaps they had swapped personalities. The dummy certainly seemed to be the more lively of the two.
Doctor Woof was doing magic tricks now, and the kids were lapping it up. He’d gathered quite a crowd, and they could hear his voice repeatedly urging overenthusiastic children to stay in the prize zone.
Watching the entertainer in action, Cooper had the feeling of recognition again. He couldn’t be sure under all that makeup and the false beard, but he felt this was someone he’d seen before. But to become a children’s entertainer, Doctor Woof must have been CRB checked. If there was nothing found against him at the Criminal Records Bureau, then his own contact with him couldn’t have been anything too serious.
After a while, Cooper found he could distinguish local residents from visitors. The locals wore outdoor clothes and sensible footwear, and tended to congregate near the gymkhana ring or the produce tent. Periodically they moved slowly up and down the aisle between the two, meeting each other and chatting in front of the RSPB stand. They seemed to be the local equivalent of Parisian promenaders. Couples met, air-kissed and chatted briefly. Then they moved on to the next encounter by the jam stall. A cry of Give everyone our love! drifted on the air behind them.