‘Seriously?’
‘Guides, housekeepers, office staff, the maintenance team, shop assistants, kitchen and serving staff in the restaurant, gardeners, gamekeepers, farmers, river bailiffs, car park attendants … where do you want to start?’
Mackenzie frowned at her tone. ‘With those who were on duty here when the shooting occurred. That’s simple enough, Diane.’
Fry took one last look at the body before she left the tent and stripped off her scene suit.
‘When word gets round about this,’ she said, ‘I know someone who’ll say, “I told you so”.’
36
Tuesday 5 November
That morning Cooper was due to give evidence in a trial at Derby Crown Court. Luckily, he didn’t have to go all the way to Derby any more and waste an entire day sitting around waiting for his few minutes in court. The new video-link technology allowed him to give his evidence from a desk right there at the divisional headquarters in Edendale.
Other officers had been busy working on the George Redfearn murder inquiry. As he arrived at West Street, Cooper had seen Diane Fry’s boss DCI Alistair Mackenzie there from the Major Crime Unit. Mackenzie would no doubt be acting as senior investigating officer.
For a moment Cooper wondered if the MCU had considered the Sandra Blair case to be too unimportant to merit their full attention from the start, even before doubt was cast on its status as a murder inquiry by the post-mortem results. He would have to make the best of that. While everyone else’s attention was on the murder, he had the chance to resolve the situation at Knowle Abbey.
But when he came out of the video-link room later in the morning, Cooper began to hear people talking about Knowle Abbey in urgent tones. He had no idea what was going on. He felt as though he’d been locked into suspended animation for the past hour or so and emerged to find the world had moved on without him.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked Luke Irvine, who was the only occupant of the CID room. ‘What’s all this about Knowle Abbey?’
‘It’s the earl.’
Cooper detected the air of disaster. ‘Is he dead?’
‘He died last night. He was fatally wounded with a shotgun while everyone’s attention was distracted by the fire at the estate village.’
‘And I don’t suppose it was an accident, or suicide.’
‘No chance.’
Cooper slowly gathered his team together from their various assignments. It seemed more important than ever that they concentrated on making connections that could explain the whole story, and not just a small part of it.
He’d asked for background enquiries on all the people involved in the protest group and there ought to be some results by now.
‘Talk to us about the quarry plan for Alderhill first, Luke,’ he said.
Irvine explained the position of Eden Valley Mineral Products and their plans for Alderhill Quarry.
‘George Redfearn was Development Director at the company,’ he said. ‘Mr Redfearn was responsible for winning the contract to bring the quarry back into operation. His name is signed on the dotted line. Along with the earl’s of course.’
‘So, the protest group,’ said Cooper. ‘The people we’re interested in include Jason Shaw, aged thirty-two, with an address in Bowden on the Knowle estate, where we’re told he works as a gamekeeper.’
‘Here’s an interesting thing, though,’ said Irvine. ‘At the end of last year Jason Shaw’s hours at Knowle Abbey were cut back. So he managed to find some part-time work at Deeplow Quarry. He’s been there a few months now.’
‘So he may have been the one who learned how to put an explosive charge together?’ asked Irvine.
‘With diesel fuel and ammonium nitrate, you mean?’
‘Exactly.’
‘He wasn’t actually given any training in the use of explosives,’ said Irvine. ‘They were pretty clear on that. He had no authorisation or experience. But I suppose you can pick up a few things just by observing and asking questions.’
‘A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing,’ said Cooper. ‘Especially when it comes to making explosives. Anything else?’
‘Well, before he got a job at the abbey, do you know Shaw worked at the cheese factory in Hartington?’
‘No, I didn’t know that.’
‘He was a warehouseman and forklift truck driver.’
‘A real jack of all trades.’
‘From some of the hints I’ve been given when I followed up on Shaw, gamekeeping is the job that’s most up his street, though.’
‘What do you mean, Luke?’
Irvine smiled. ‘It seems Jason Shaw is known for producing the occasional rabbit or pheasant in return for a favour. No questions asked about where they came from. You get the picture?’
‘He’s a poacher.’
‘And so was his father before him. They say that’s where his skill came from – he learned the tricks of the trade from his dad. In fact, Shaw has a conviction on file for an offence fourteen years ago, when he was a teenager. He was caught out with his father taking a deer. So whoever gave him the job as a gamekeeper probably made a smart move.’
‘The tricks of the trade,’ said Cooper. ‘He’ll have learned how to use a shotgun at an early age too.’
‘We don’t have any real evidence against Jason Shaw,’ pointed out Hurst. ‘It’s only speculation. All circumstantial.’
‘What do we know of his whereabouts now?’
‘He’s not due at the quarry today, but he has a late shift at the abbey. Apparently, they’re drafting in some of the estate staff to provide a bit of extra security at night-time.’
‘Wait a minute – who interviewed Shaw? Wasn’t it you, Luke?’
Irvine shifted uneasily. ‘Me – and Carol Villiers. When we came back, we reported to DS Fry.’
‘I see.’
‘You weren’t here, Ben.’
‘Right.’
Cooper found he couldn’t fault Irvine. Though the excuse he’d just relied on was the same one he’d used at the scene of George Redfearn’s murder, when it was the other way round and Fry had been absent. It sounded like a shift in loyalties. But he was probably imagining things.
‘It seems to me that Shaw developed a relationship with Sandra Blair after they met in the protest group,’ said Carol Villiers. ‘We know it was Jason Shaw she met up with in Longnor on the evening she died.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Well, he does have a link with the Nadens,’ said Becky Hurst.
‘Does he?’
‘Yes.’ Hurst consulted her notes. ‘Geoff and Sally Naden were both made redundant from the cheese factory in Hartington. Mr Naden had been a cheese-maker for twenty-five years and his wife worked in the offices. When they lost their jobs he became a parking attendant at Knowle Abbey and she went to work in the kitchen making sandwiches for the café.’
‘Interesting.’
Cooper imagined those jobs weren’t as well paid as the Nadens had been used to, but they had probably felt they were secure working for the earl. With so many visitors, their services would always be needed. But then they must have found out that Lord Manby was planning to get rid of them – and the visitors too. He had no interest in the welfare of his staff, only in the money he could make from the estate’s assets.
‘We know about Rob Beresford,’ said Hurst. ‘He appears to be an open book. A bit hot-headed maybe, but he doesn’t seem the type to be violent.’
‘And Sandra Blair we know too,’ added Irvine.
‘There was the note in her diary about a meeting at the Grandfather Oak. What was that meeting all about?’
‘I’m not sure it ever took place,’ said Cooper.
It seemed to Cooper that the graveyard protest campaign had drawn attention away from the real issue. Among the protest group there must have been a more extreme faction, one or two individuals who wanted direct action. Well, more than direct action – they intended violence. They were very angry.