The PC pulled out his radio immediately' scanning the area for signs of the assailant.

‘How long since?'

‘Just now.'

‘Did you recognize him?'

‘It was the old man,' she said.

‘What old man?’

Becky Kelk knew where the old man lived' though she didn't know his name. She pointed unerringly up the hill towards the village' where Dial Cottage stood in the middle of its terraced row' its roof picked out by the last of the evening light.

*

They found Harry Dickinson waiting patiently in his front room. He was dressed in his best Sunday suit' his thin hair slicked back, a blue tie knotted carefully at his throat. The toecaps of his shoes were gleaming’

and the Guardian was folded neatly on the table. He sat solemn and stiff in his hard-backed chair, his expression that of a man in a hospital waiting room' expecting the inevitable bad news.

When Gwen let the police into the front room' he showed no surprise, and no emotion. He merely knocked out his pipe and laid it on the rack on the mahogany cabinet. He picked up his cap' smoothed the knees of his trouser legs and stood up slowly.

‘You didn't take long. I'll give you that.'

24

‘Hey' hey' that's enough of that!’

The burly landlord was wading his way in between them' a shaggy-haired Alsatian snarling at his heels and snapping at any available leg. Cooper pushed the youth roughly away and put the glass back on the table. They stood around in a panting group, shaking and trembling as the adrenaline continued to pump through their veins.

‘You lot — out!' said the landlord. 'You're banned.’

‘Bloody hell. We were just messing. It wasn't anything serious'' said the leading youth.

‘I don't care what it was. I won't have it in here. This is a respectable pub.'

‘What about him' then? PC Plod here.'

‘I've told you — out. Now!’

The three of them trooped out sullenly' grumbling loudly and slamming the door behind them. The landlord and his dog watched them with similar glowers on their faces until they had gone. The normal noises of the bar gradually resumed' couples leaning towards each other in open-mouthed excitement. The juke box had been playing an old Rolling Stones hit for the past few minutes. 'I Can't Get No Satisfaction'. A barmaid came out with a pan and brush to sweep up the broken glass.

‘Sorry'' said Cooper.

‘I don't know you' lad' but I take it you're with the police.'

‘Yeah.'

‘You ought to know better' then.’

Cooper slumped back into his chair' feeling suddenly weak in the legs. The landlord looked down at him' assessing him with a professional eye, weighing up exactly how drunk he was.

‘I'll get someone to fetch you a coffee. Then you'd better go home.'

‘No' thanks. One more whisky' then I'll go.’

‘Have sense.'

‘I'll be all right.'

‘You're not driving' are you?'

‘Of course not.'

‘I suppose that'll be all right then. But that's it. No more.’

*

Diane Fry had done things in the right order. She had phoned Ben Cooper's home first. She'd spoken to his brother, Matt, who sounded equally worried when she told him she was trying to find Ben. Then she dialled his mobile, but got no reply. That meant a tour of two dozen pubs. It was one way of getting to know the town better.

It was lucky that Cooper's red Toyota was distinctive. She spotted it eventually in a pub car park behind the bus station' where the stink of diesel fumes from the green TransPeak buses mingled with the smell of new plastic and burnt oil from the factory units on the Edenside Industrial Estate.

The Unicorn was near the corner of two streets of terraced houses' some of which had their ground floors converted into shops — motor spares' insurance' a Chinese takeaway. The corner property had been demolished at some time' and the site had become a car park for the pub. There was no lighting at the end of the street or on the brick walls of the pub' and the glare from the bus station two hundred yards away only made the darkness blacker. But Fry saw the Toyota gleam suddenly in her headlights as she turned into the street and pulled up outside the takeaway.

It was one of those bars where everyone turned to look at you when you walked in. At least' they did if you were a woman on your own. Even the landlord gave Fry a hard stare as she scanned the room to find Cooper at his table in the corner. His face looked bloated and his eyes were half closed as he nursed the remains of a single whisky. She could see straightaway that he was hopelessly drunk.

‘Ben?’

He looked up blearily as she stood over him. 'What the hell do you want?’

She ignored the aggressive tone in his voice. 'What do you think you're doing' Ben?'

‘Getting pissed. What has it got to do with you?' Are you mad? Are you intending to make a complete idiot of yourself ?'

‘Probably. So what?’

There were too many people close enough to overhear. She sat down' leaning across the table to deliver her message eye to eye. 'You're a police officer. Don't you realize' if this gets back to Division' you'll get your arse kicked all the way back to the beat. Bang goes the promotion' Ben.'

‘Oh yeah? It's damn well gone bang already. So why should I bother? Anyway, it's what you want' isn't it?'

‘What are you talking about?'

‘Oh' I can't be bothered talking to you. Just get lost and leave me alone' will you?’

She tugged at his sleeve. 'Come on, Ben, let's get out of this place. I'll drive you home.’

But he reacted violently' jerking his arm away' almost knocking over his whisky. 'I'm not going anywhere with you' bitch.’

Now she began to feel angry. 'I'm not going to put up with this' Ben. Are you going to come' or have I got to drag you out?'

‘Leave me alone!’

He was on his feet, stumbling against the table, oblivious to the stares of the other customers. The landlord was coming out from behind the bar again to speak to him.

‘I don't want you anywhere near me' Fry'' he said' with as much dignity as he could manage. 'Just stay away. All right?’

Fry gritted her teeth and restrained herself from slapping his flushed face as he drained the last of his whisky and staggered out of the pub into the night. She knew she ought to go after him and remove his car keys — forcibly' if necessary — to prevent him from trying to drive home in his present state. But another part of her wanted to let him go and get stuffed.

Are you a friend of his?' It was the landlord, leaning over her shoulder.

‘Sort of.'

‘Well' take my advice — he shouldn't be wandering about out there in that state.'

‘I'm not his nursemaid. It might seem like it' but I'm not.'

‘Listen' take him home' or let us call him a taxi or something. But he shouldn't be out there on his own' I'm telling you.'

‘OK' OK.’

She walked out of the Unicorn and stood in the lighted doorway' staring out at the dark street' conscious of the eyes on her back. The streetlights ended just below the pub' and the other side of the car park was in complete darkness. An alley ran along the edge of the car park. It wound its way between two high brick walls towards the back entrance to the bus station.

‘Ben!’

There was no answer. She crossed to the car park, where Cooper's Toyota stood empty and locked. She glanced back down the street towards her own car' but there was no sign of a figure staggering between the streetlights' no one slumped outside the darkened window of the Chinese takeaway or the insurance brokers. 'Where the hell —’

Then she heard the noise. Taunting laughter moving in the shadows. The sound of stumbling feet' animal grunts and stifled cries. A confused thudding and thumping' echoing dully from a wall somewhere. A chill ran across her neck as she stared into the blackness of the alley. She ran to the corner of the car park, peering into the gloom. Shapes were moving in the darkness, coming together and moving apart again' convulsing and thrashing their arms and legs as if involved in a primitive dance. She could distinguish four figures. Three of them had blurred features — collars turned up over their faces' caps pulled low on their foreheads. They struck and kicked at the fourth figure' one after the other' mechanical and brutal' aiming to hurt. The fourth figure was Ben Cooper.