Authors: Elizabeth Corley
‘Very well. What happened on 7
th
September, 1982? Paul Hill did come to this house that day. Bryan Taylor brought him in his car. It was a regular arrangement. Oh, for God’s sake, don’t look like that, Jeremy. The boy was a tart, a nasty little prostitute who preyed on men. He was no innocent lured into the life, trust me; he had a fully developed sexual appetite and a voracious demand for money.’
‘This is quite disgusting.’
‘In your opinion, maybe, but not everybody agrees with you. Homosexuality isn’t a crime and I can assure you that this was consenting, yes indeed.’
‘He was a child, Percy, a boy of fourteen. I’ve seen his photograph, he barely looks twelve.’
‘Looks can be deceptive and in his case they were. Anyway, I do nothing that the Greeks did not do. Boys used to be married at that age in older civilisations. With your classical education surely you appreciate that.’
‘Nothing excuses child abuse, Edwards, nothing.’
Maidment’s voice contained all the anger that Cooper could feel roaring in his insides but it was blinding him to the danger he was in. If Edwards was prepared to kill a policeman, and Cooper was certain that he was, then another man’s death would mean nothing.
‘My God, you can be pompous. Oh take that “disgusted of Cheam” look off your face; you’re hardly Snow White. Shall I continue?’
‘Go on, you’ve started so you might as well continue.’
‘Paul and Bryan arrived. It was a blistering hot day so we all had a swim. Things got a bit out of hand. Bryan always was uncouth and clumsy. Anyway, Paul ran off into the changing rooms and we decided it would be best if Bryan took him home early.
‘I swear to you, the last time I saw Paul he was dressed in his school uniform and sitting in the front seat of Taylor’s car.’
‘What happened next?’
‘About half an hour later, just as we were sitting down for an early supper—’
‘So it wasn’t just you and Bryan with Paul; there were others! No wonder things got “out of hand” as you so delicately put it.’
‘Grow up, Jeremy. It was nothing heavy, just some fun. Paul wasn’t harmed in any way.’
‘According to your definition of harm. Poor little blighter.’
‘Now just hold on. That little bastard doesn’t deserve your sympathy. Sure you won’t have a whisky? I’m dry.’
‘No.’
There was a clink of bottle against glass and a splash of soda, then a sigh as Edwards took a deep swallow.
‘Where was I? Ah yes, about half an hour later – I was in here as it happens – I saw Bryan’s car pull up at the old gates. They’ve gone now – antique but some idiot smashed into them last year and ruined them. I waited a moment but he didn’t drive in so I went out. He was slumped in the driver’s seat, barely conscious. There was blood everywhere. Taylor told me that there’d been a fight in the car and Paul had pulled a knife. He took it off him but not before the Hill boy had stabbed him.’
‘Where was Paul?’
‘Somewhere back in the woods where Bryan had left him.’
‘You’re saying he killed Paul in self-defence?’
‘Exactly, though Bryan was in a bad state and it was hard to understand him. We kept asking him where he’d hidden the body but he just mumbled something about the woods.’
‘And Paul’s blazer and trousers, how did you end up with those?’
‘They were lying in the footwell of the passenger seat. Bryan didn’t explain how they got there. I opened the gates and we managed to manoeuvre Bryan and his car around the side of the house out of sight. Joe, one of the men staying with me, was trained in field medicine, so he saw to Bryan while I tried to tidy up the car. I put Paul’s clothes into a sack and placed it by the dustbin to dispose of later, then I went to help with Bryan.
‘He died around seven o’clock. Joe thought it was a wound to the liver, enough for him to bleed to death.’
‘You didn’t take him to hospital?’
‘Don’t be stupid. There was nothing they could have done for him. Joe told me it was a mortal wound.’
‘How did you dispose of his body?’
Cooper listened to the silence, knowing the answer already and willing the major to leave while he still could.
‘How?’
‘We put him in the car and drove it to some wasteland at the edge of my property. There was a fair amount of stubble-burning going on; early, I know, but it had been a good harvest. We set fire to the car and burnt the body.’
‘Dear God… But bodies don’t burn away to nothing; I’ve seen the aftermath of enough mortar fire to know that.’
‘Good point. We moved the remains of the wreck and of poor old Bryan later when they’d cooled down. They’re buried on my land somewhere where no one’s going to dig them up by accident.’
‘So how did I end up with a bag of Paul’s clothes? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Because I forgot about the damn things!’ Edwards snapped, obviously annoyed. ‘I was sitting down to a well-earned snifter and switched the radio on as a bit of a diversion.
‘You can imagine what I felt when they announced the disappearance. I nearly had a heart attack. We’d taken Bryan at his word but what if he’d just dumped the body and there was something on it to link him back here? It was then I remembered the clothes. I couldn’t just drop the sack in my bin and I didn’t want it here overnight in case someone had seen Bryan and Paul together and then reported seeing the car at my house. And I didn’t want to risk a trip in the car with search parties crawling all over the place.’
‘So you called me and I took all those risks.’
Edwards laughed.
‘But of course. I knew you’d feel obliged to help me out and anyway, it wasn’t so much of a risk for you as you’d been nowhere near the boy. I was sure you’d have some sort of alibi.’
‘I didn’t, as the police have demonstrated to their satisfaction. You dropped me in it and have done nothing to help me prove my innocence whatsoever.’
‘I can understand you being angry, old man, but it’s all in the past now. You’re out of prison; they have no real evidence against you. You’ll be fine.’
‘My reputation has been ruined, my friends have deserted me, there are suggestions that I might be asked to resign from the club. And you call that fine? I think not, sir, I think not.’
‘So what are you going to do?’ Edwards asked his voice strangely unconcerned.
Cooper held his breath as he waited for the major to speak.
‘I don’t know.’
Operations rang Nightingale at 19:16 to tell her that a patrol had found Cooper’s car parked in a village less than two minutes walk from Edwards’ house. She told them to stay where they were and called Quinlan at once. He was already on his way to the station and ordered her to do nothing until he arrived, other than alert the firearms unit of the location.
Less than ten minutes later they were sitting in his office with the head of the firearms team on speakerphone. It was agreed that two of his officers would reconnoitre Edwards’ house. One would pretend to be making routine police inquiries while the other looked around outside. Once they reported back a decision would be made on how to proceed, in particular whether and how to enter the house.
Nightingale stood up as soon as the call finished.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I have to be there. I won’t do anything stupid.’
Quinlan regarded her indecisively.
‘It’s Bob Cooper we’re talking about, sir.’
‘Very well.’ Quinlan nodded. ‘But we’ll be quicker in my car.’
Edwards’ phone rang, breaking the silence. He ignored it; he’d already had a message from William to say that the ‘package’ had been delivered and that he’d be back to collect it whenever he received instructions to do so. Cooper tried again to ram his knees into the sofa but his legs had gone numb and he could barely move his body. There was the faint clink of ice in Edwards’ glass then nothing. He heard Maidment sigh and then the sound of Edwards standing up.
‘If you want my advice, it’s to keep schtum. Paul Hill wasn’t murdered by me. In fact he wasn’t murdered by anybody if Taylor killed him in self-defence. This will all blow over again like last time and life will return to normal.’
‘Not for me it won’t.’
‘No, I can see that. But shopping me for a crime I didn’t commit won’t help, will it?’
Cooper managed to press a button on the phone. He couldn’t be sure whether it was a different one or whether he kept repeating the same number as he had little feeling in his fingers. It was clear to Cooper that Maidment would never persuade Edwards to do the right thing but he seemed blind to the fact and continued to try to use moral suasion to convince him.
For Cooper, bound and gagged, virtually immobile, their heated discussion brought thinking time but little hope. He was certain that Edwards would have to kill him to allow his escape from the country. The only question was whether he would murder the major as well. It appeared that he didn’t want to, otherwise why would he be wasting time in a futile debate? He doubted that it was sentiment that stayed his hand. More likely it was worry that the murder might be linked to him combined with the practical difficulty of overcoming the major and then having to dispose of two bodies.
Both men were becoming angry. They were virtually shouting at each other now and he thought that if Maidment had been fit they would have come to blows. Their row was interrupted by loud knocking from the front door.
‘Who the devil’s that at this time of night?’ Edwards turned to Maidment. ‘Were you followed here?’
‘I made certain that I was not.’
The last of Cooper’s hopes crumbled. The knocking came again.
‘I’d better go and see who it is. Stay here.’
Edwards left the room and pulled the study door to behind him. Cooper heard Maidment stand up, walk over and open it. There was the sound of muffled voices from outside but he couldn’t hear clearly enough to distinguish words. The front door banged shut and Maidment returned to the sofa. Cooper’s latest attempt to hit the back of it with his knees failed.
‘Who was that?’
‘Oh, nobody.’
‘It looked like the police and I thought I heard them mention that sergeant’s name, you know, Cooper.’
The sergeant in question shouted out against his gag and almost choked.
‘You eavesdrop now, do you, Major? A dirty habit.’
‘Not as filthy as some I could mention.’
‘Look, I’m getting weary of this. Let me explain to you again the simple facts of the matter. One, Paul Hill was a prostitute; two, yes, he was slightly underage but not much; three, I did not kill him, nor did I see him killed. Taylor was the guilty party and Taylor died. Four, I disposed of Taylor’s body and car but I didn’t kill him either. I accept that technically that’s a crime but not a significant one. It’s time to leave Paul Hill and Bryan Taylor dead and buried in the past where they belong.’
‘What about Malcolm Eagleton?’
‘Who?’ Cooper could hear Edwards choke on his whisky from where he was lying.
‘The boy who vanished a year before Paul. The one whose bones the police found some months ago.’
‘Why on earth should I have known him?’ More chinks as the ice slid towards his lips and back.
‘The police mentioned him when they were questioning me. Then separately they asked me about a replacement parking permit in 1981. I only issued one and that was to you. I put two and two together.’
‘I really don’t see the connection, old chap.’ Edwards’s voice was muffled, as if he’d turned towards the fireplace.
‘So you deny that you knew him.’
‘Absolutely.’
To Cooper, world-weary, experienced and confined to using only his ears, the difference in Edwards’ tone when he answered Maidment’s questions was obvious. Edwards had told the truth about Paul Hill but was lying about Malcolm Eagleton. He wondered if Maidment had noticed it too.
‘If I went to the police—’
‘I’d still deny everything; say that I had no knowledge of Hill or Eagleton and that you were trying to frame me to escape your own guilt. It’s your blood and fingerprints they have, remember, not mine.’
‘You’d do that?’ Maidment was aghast.
‘Of course, I’d have to. Don’t be shocked, most people would do the same.’
‘Why should I perjure myself and risk my good name further for a piece of filth like you?’ Maidment stood up and took a step towards Edwards.
‘I had so hoped that you wouldn’t do this, Jeremy.’
Cooper heard Maidment gasp and sit back down with a thump that knocked the sofa to one side. By straining his neck Cooper had his first view of the room. All he could see was part of the floor, Maidment’s feet in sensible brogues and from Edwards’ knees downwards. Ignoring the hammer blows in his skull and the fire that lashed across his shoulders and down his arms, Cooper managed to wriggle a few inches on his buttocks so that he could push the top of his head against the curtains that were blocking the rest of his view until he could see almost all of Edwards. He was standing with his back to the fireplace with his whisky glass in one hand and a revolver in the other. Belatedly Cooper realised that he was no longer holding his phone and that he was probably sitting on it.
‘What the devil are you doing?’
‘I had hoped that you would cooperate but it appears that you aren’t going to.’
‘So you’re going to kill me? How do you propose to get away with that?’
Maidment stood up and took a step forward.
‘No, Jeremy, don’t rush me. Stay where you are.’ Edwards drained his drink and put the glass on a side table.
‘Put that thing away, Percy, for heaven’s sake. You always were a lousy shot.’ It was a good attempt at bluster but Cooper could hear the tremor in his voice.
‘Even I won’t have a problem at this range. Here.’ There was a thud as something landed on the sofa. ‘Oblige me by tying your feet together with that tape, would you.’
‘No, I damn well won’t. If you’re going to kill me, do it like a man.’
‘Very well but not in here. We’ll step outside if you don’t mind.’
Maidment stood up and took a step towards the fireplace.
‘Stay there, Jeremy, that’s as close as I need you.’
‘What about the noise?’