Part 37 (1/2)

29.

When Cooper and Villiers returned to the Light House, the scene seemed almost deserted. Cooper looked around for a scene guard, but saw no one. A forensics van was in the car park, and a marked Corsa stood at the corner of the building, with no driver in sight. The only sound was the crack and rustle of crime-scene tape, like the bones of the dead pub rattling in the silence of the moor.

Cautiously he walked round the exterior of the building. Apart from the absence of a guard, something else felt wrong.

But then he came across the pile of old furniture stacked against the back wall of the pub. Heavy tables with metal bases, wrought-iron chairs, a heap of torn parasols on steel posts. It was obvious now that they covered the trap doors for beer deliveries into the cellar. In an open s.p.a.ce nearby, someone had burned rubbish, but only a patch of charcoal and pale grey ashes remained.

Bending closer, Cooper pointed out one of the tables to Villiers.

'This furniture has been moved at some time,' he said. 'Look, there's thick mould on the bottom, while the upper surfaces are relatively clear. It must all have stood somewhere else, and it's been piled up on the hatch.'

'If they removed chest freezers from the cellar, they must have brought them out this way, rather than through the pub. Then they covered the hatch to keep it closed, or to prevent it from being seen.'

Cooper straightened up. 'Yes, that seems likely. A couple of men could have done it, with a suitable vehicle. If only we could find where they dumped the freezers.'

Inside the pub, Liz Petty was still on her own, though she'd brought her gear back up from the cellar.

'Liz, who's supposed to be on scene watch?' he said.

'I can't remember his name. He went off to have a brew with the firefighters. It's dry work being up here for hours on end. I said it would be okay, since you and Carol were coming.'

'All right, I suppose.'

'Is something wrong, Ben?'

'No, no. Everything's fine.'

'Sorry, this is a slow job on my own,' she said. 'I'm hoping to get some help later. I shouldn't be single-handed, but you know what it's like.'

'Any results?'

'Well, I can't find any traces of blood in the cellar, so that's not your primary crime scene, I'm afraid. Shoe marks and fingerprints all over the place. Sorry again. Unless you can turn up the actual freezers for me?'

'No, but we need you upstairs, Liz. I think you'll find your bloodstains up there, though there's probably been a thorough clean-up.'

'Not too thorough to beat me,' said Liz cheerfully. 'Not with my luminol and UV light. You'll see me all lit up in a blue glow shortly. Which room in particular?'

'One of the guest rooms on the first floor. Room One a they call it the Bakewell Room.'

'No problem.'

She hesitated before picking up her case, and looked round to see if Carol Villiers was within earshot.

'By the way, the venue is booked. I thought it was best to go ahead and confirm with them. Is that okay?'

'Oh, yes. Fine. It was the perfect place. I loved it.'

'I'm so glad.'

Her face lit up the way it always did when she was thinking about the wedding. The big day couldn't come quick enough for Liz. He wondered how often she thought about it when she was at work. Was she figuring out the seating plan for the reception in her mind while she sprayed luminol in the cellar, looking for blood residue? Did brides-maids' dresses take priority in her consideration over the lives of the two murder victims?

It was an unworthy speculation, and Cooper suppressed it. Of the two of them, Liz was the one who had her priorities right. While he was obsessing about details, and looking at the marks in the dust where an old freezer had once stood, she was thinking about their future together. Of course he knew which of them was right. It was why he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Liz would keep him grounded and sane. Without her, he would be lost. His future would have no shape or meaning. It didn't bear thinking about.

'And I looked at some menus,' she said, speaking a little more quietly as she heard voices in the entrance. 'I've got some ideas. We can talk about them tonight.'

'All right. Over dinner somewhere?'

She laughed. 'Dinner? Are you trying to placate me for standing me up last night?'

'Of course not. But if we're going to be talking about food ...'

Liz touched his arm as footsteps approached the bar. 'I'll see you tonight. Are you going to book a table?'

'I won't forget.'

Cooper thought he'd better make a note of it, before it slipped his mind. But a voice called to him from the doorway, as someone stood back to let Liz get past on her way to the stairs.

'h.e.l.lo!'

'Hi. Is that Josh?'

'Yes.'

'Come this way. Just stay clear of the taped-off areas.'

'Your colleague outside gave me instructions,' said Lane.

'That would be DC Villiers.'

Lane was casually dressed in denims and a grey sweats.h.i.+rt. He must change into his working clothes when he got to the hotel. The casual gear didn't suit him actually a he was a little too middle-aged to carry off the jeans. But his hair was already groomed, the discreet piercing in place, his smile affable. Despite his clothes, he was ready to be of service. If only everyone was so cooperative.

It was odd seeing Josh here a it felt a bit like the way Cooper had failed to recognise Roddy when he was on the wrong side of the bar at the Hanging Gate.

'What do you want me to look at?' asked Lane.

Cooper pointed at the open hatchway behind the bar. 'I'd like you to show me around down here.'

'In the cellar?'

'You're not afraid of cellars, are you?' asked Cooper.

'No, why?'

'I thought you sounded a bit nervous.'

'I've spent half my life in cellars.'