‘Mr Nowak? Not enjoying yourself?’
He scowled. ‘I must be a masochist, coming here.’
‘These occasions can be difficult, if you don’t fit in.’
‘It’s not the occasion that’s difficult. It’s the people.’
Nowak glanced over his shoulder. The sun was out now, and he was sweating. He wiped a hand across his brow, while he struggled to regain his breath. Cooper could see that Nowak’s wife had stayed where she was, and was talking to some other women. Slattery had vanished, though. Maybe he had recognised the police when Nowak didn’t.
‘So what’s your problem with Mr Slattery?’ asked Cooper.
‘It’s his problem, not mine,’ snapped Nowak. ‘He had the gall to accuse me of making his mother ill.’
‘Why?’
‘He says I’ve been putting her under too much pressure.’
‘I didn’t know you had issues with Mrs Slattery.’
‘Why should I tell you? It’s nothing to do with the police. It’s a matter of courtesy and reasonable behaviour.’
‘Even so, sir. It would help if we’re clear.’
Nowak let out a long sigh. ‘Look, it’s the way her house and garden have been deteriorating, ever since the old doctor died. She hasn’t been carrying out maintenance at all. The fences are falling down, the trees are growing over our side of the boundary, and the weeds are waist high. We’ve been seeing rats in our garden, and I’m sure they’re coming from South Croft. She has a septic tank a few yards from the boundary, and it hasn’t been emptied for years. It’s just not acceptable. It’s bringing down the value of our property. But when I speak to her about it, she just gets upset. And now I’ve got her blasted son on my case.’
‘So that was what the argument with Mr Slattery was about just now?’
‘Yes, of course. Why should I accept the situation, even if she is a widow?’
Villiers had been watching Nowak carefully. ‘Are you feeling calmer now, sir?’ she said.
‘I’m fine,’ he said sullenly. ‘Fine.’
‘So where were you running to?’
‘To my car, if you must know.’
‘I hope you weren’t about to fetch a weapon to continue the quarrel?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I have my camera in the car. I wanted to show him the photographs I’ve taken, to prove what I was saying.’
‘Perhaps it would be best to leave it for now, and let everyone calm down.’
‘That sounds like good advice, sir,’ said Cooper.
‘Oh, for…’
Nowak walked away a few steps, then turned back.
‘I want to be a reasonable man,’ he said. ‘I want to get on with my neighbours. But we came here to this village and they tried to push us around, because they think we’re foreigners. They say to themselves, These people don’t belong here, they won’t know their rights. But I’m not stupid. I know my rights. And I won’t be pushed around. It’s something they have to learn about me.’
‘A reasonable man?’ said Villiers, as Nowak headed towards the car park.
Cooper shrugged. ‘Perhaps. But what’s reasonable?’
‘The million-dollar question, Ben. It depends entirely on your point of view, doesn’t it?’
‘Entirely. If you’re convinced that you’re in the right, then everything you do is reasonable in your own mind. It might not seem reasonable to somebody on the outside. And certainly not to the person you’re in dispute with.’
It was the middle of the afternoon now, and the show was in full swing. There were kids clambering all over the tractors, having their photographs taken yanking a steering wheel backwards and forwards. Members of the band were queuing at the tea tent for their refreshment break. Thirsty work, blowing a tuba.
‘What’s the name of that man with the sports car?’ said Villiers.
‘Mr Edson?’
‘Do I see him flirting with Mrs Nowak?’
‘Really? Where?’
‘About two o’clock. Near the jam stall.’
Cooper picked them out. Edson was leaning casually on his shooting stick, smiling and talking loudly to Sonya Nowak. She seemed transfixed by what he was saying, but it might just have been politeness.
‘Is that flirting?’ said Cooper doubtfully.
‘Watch,’ said Villiers. ‘He’ll move a bit closer.’
Edson seemed to find something he’d said himself hilarious. He waved his shooting stick in an extravagant gesture, then planted it back in the ground again. Sure enough, he was now leaning an inch or two nearer to Mrs Nowak. His smile became broader, an eyebrow waggled. Cooper stared in horrified fascination.
‘I would never have thought it.’
‘She’s quite an attractive woman. Don’t you think so?’
‘I…’
Cooper knew he shouldn’t answer a question like that from another woman. He could never give the right reply.
‘No?’
‘If that’s your taste. But him? I can’t see what might attract Mrs Nowak even to give him the time of day.’
‘Come on, Ben. Don’t be naive. What’s the greatest aphrodisiac in the world?’
Cooper sighed. ‘Money.’
‘Absolutely. People are so shallow, aren’t they? The residents of Riddings are no different.’
‘No different. Only worse.’
Russell Edson carried a shooting stick and wore a panama hat, no doubt direct from Ecuador. He wore rimless glasses, with his hair swept back, and a white scarf with tasselled ends thrown round his neck. There was a natural curl to his lip that Cooper found faintly disturbing. It wasn’t so noticeable when he was looking at someone and smiling his polite smile. But it gave him a supercilious look the moment he turned away and his face relaxed.
In company, Edson talked all the time, seeming to have a strong opinion on every subject that came up. It was as if he needed to dominate with the sheer force of his personality. Between opinions, he smiled possessively at every woman within easy radius. Cooper supposed he was what the sociologists called an alpha male, the man with a single-minded urge to take over any group, the kind who always needed to have followers. He wondered if he himself was considered a challenge, whether he was supposed to be cowed by the display of dominance.
The other people drifted away as Cooper and Villiers approached. That was something you got used to, a reluctance on the part of the public to interact with the police, or even to stand next to them at a village show.
‘It’s a bit of a chore,’ said Edson. ‘But we have to be here, you know.’
‘You don’t like socialising, sir?’
‘Socialising?’ he said. ‘Could you call it that? Everyone wants a piece of you, that’s the trouble.’
Cooper stared at him, wondering if this man really did think of himself as the local squire, with a tiresome obligation to allow hoi polloi into his presence now and then.
‘Your neighbours, you mean?’ said Cooper.
‘Neighbours, business associates, former so-called friends. Everyone.’
Glenys Edson had been listening to her son, eyeing him with a baleful expression.
‘Even your children try to suck the life out of you,’ she said. ‘It’s as if they want every last drop of your blood. They’re never satisfied, never give up. What do you say, Russell?’
Edson looked angry. His face was flushed, his lips pressed tightly together. But he didn’t respond to the comment, kept his mouth closed, apparently reluctant to argue with his mother in front of strangers.
Cooper and Villiers moved away, but had only gone a few paces when Cooper felt a touch on his arm. When he turned, it was Russell Edson again.
‘I’m sorry about my mother,’ he said. ‘She didn’t really mean anything by that last remark, you know.’
‘It’s between the two of you, sir. None of my business.’
To his surprise, Edson gave him a warm, grateful smile. It was if Cooper had just done him a huge favour.
‘Thank you, Sergeant. If there’s anything else I can do…’
‘I’ll let you know.’
Cooper saw one of the show organisers passing, a woman in a poncho with a rain hat and brown boots, and decided to introduce himself. Best to let them know that he and Villiers were here.