Dancing With the Virgins (17 page)

‘
A bedsit.'

‘
I see. When did you last live there?'

‘
Six months ago. A year. Who knows?'

‘
This union card is last year's. When did you leave university?'

‘
January.'

‘
And where do your parents live?'

‘
I've forgotten.'

‘
Come off it.'

‘
My life has nothing to do with them any more.'

‘
I wonder if they agree with that, sir,' said the sergeant. 'We can trace them, you know.'

‘
I
wish you joy.
’

The sergeant looked round at the two CID officers, and turned back to the young men. 'We'll need state
ments from you. Then we'll see whether we have to move you from here.'

‘
Jesus,' said Cal.

‘
A statement!' said Stride. 'Can it be any statement I
like? How about: "Sergeant, I love you"?
’

Cooper watched the young man carefully. It was dif
ficult to tell whether his manner was an act or not. But
he had just succeeded in attracting serious attention
to himself. Because it was certainly his name that had
recently been scratched into the ground in the middle
of the Nine Virgins
.

Cooper sighed. The smell of chicken curry was
making him hungry. But he was going to miss his lunch
at the pub in Ringham, after all
.

*

Diane Fry called in to report their whereabouts to the incident room, but finished the call with a thoughtful
look.

‘
What is it?' asked Cooper.

‘
The team in Totley have been following up on Jenny
Weston's visitors. Do you remember a girl with dreadlocks being mentioned?'

‘
Sure. The neighbours seem to have noticed every move she made.'

‘
They're pretty sure now that this girl was more than
just a visitor. It seems she was actually living with Jenny
Weston at her house for a while.'

‘
Have they identified her?'

‘
She was introduced to one of Jenny's work
colleagues as Ros Daniels. She was aged about 20, and
believed to be from Cheshire.'

‘
They'll be keen to question her, then. She has to know
what was going on in Jenny's life better than anyone does.'

‘
Oh, they
would
question her, if they could find her,'
said Fry. 'But it seems Ros Daniels is missing.
’

*

Back on the moor, an excuse had finally been found to
arrest the little man in the green bubble jacket. He had
been discovered lying naked in the heather in the
middle of one of the smaller stone circles. He had been
dreaming blissfully, apparently oblivious to anyone passing, just as he was unaware of his skin turning
blue and his genitals shrivelling to the size of a button
mushroom. The police had made him get dressed and
charged him with indecent exposure. And PC Wragg had smiled
.

12

In South Quarry later that afternoon, Cal and Stride
were sitting on a convenient rock alongside their van.
They had two mugs of tea and were rolling tobacco into Rizla papers with practised fingers. Stride's movements
were languid as he stooped over the task, occasionally
pushing the hair back from his eyes. He wore what
looked like an old greatcoat from an Army surplus store
and a pair of combat trousers, with his tin of tobacco
balanced on one knee. He was entirely concentrated on
rolling his cigarette, his delicate fingers prodding the
tobacco neatly into place. Occasionally, he smiled to himself, as if at some private joke
.

It seemed to Ben Cooper that the one called Cal was
altogether more watchful. Though he didn't look up,
he was certainly aware that he was being observed. His
shoulders were tense, and he frowned as he licked the
edge of his Rizla before pushing his tobacco tin away
in one of the pockets of a camouflage jacket. A stud in
his nose glittered briefly as he turned to watch Stride
light up. The skin of Cal's scalp was visible through his
dark stubble, hardly any longer than the stubble on his
cheeks.
'What do you make of them?' asked DCI Tailby.
'Mostly harmless,' said DI Hitchens
.

Cooper laughed, and Tailby looked at him sharply.
'Was that a joke?'

‘
The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy,
sir,' explained
Cooper. 'It's how the guide describes the planet Earth.
Just those two words: "mostly harmless".
’

The DCI looked at him for a moment. His grey
wings of hair lifted in the wind that buffeted the quarry
edge, then settled back on his temples like roosting doves.

‘
Douglas Adams,' said DI Hitchens helpfully. 'I liked
Marvin the Paranoid Android, myself.' The DCI had
turned his stare on Hitchens instead. 'Not that I meant
it as a joke, sir. I meant these two — I think they're mostly harmless. No police records.
’

Cal and Stride sat without speaking, smoking their
cigarettes, staring into space, apparently at peace with
the world. Cooper recalled that there had been cigarette
ends in the inventory of items recovered by the scenes
of crime team near Jenny Weston's body. But they had
been Marlboro, not handmade roll-ups
.

Above the VW van, a birch had rooted itself on a
precarious ledge in the quarry side. Its lower branches
were hung with small metal objects, bits of tinfoil and
sections of baked bean cans tinkling and clanging in the
wind.

‘
And what's all that lot supposed to be?' asked Tailby.
'Some new way of doing the washing-up?'

‘
Tree art,' said Hitchens. 'Bevington has written some
poems that are stuck to the chimes. They're meant to
create an atmosphere of peace and harmony, he says.
Do you want to go and have a closer look?'

‘
No, thanks. Too much harmony is bad for me.
’

Tailby glared down at the van. To Cooper, it seemed
that it was taking a great effort for Cal not to look up
and stare back.

‘
Can we positively eliminate them as suspects?' asked
Tailby.

‘
They have no apparent connection with the victim,
and there's no motive that we know of. There is no
witness evidence to tie them in any closer to the scene
than this.'

‘
What about their shoes?'

‘
I got a quick look,' said Cooper. 'Calvin Lawrence is wearing trainers, and Bevington has a pair of Doc Martens. Neither would match the partial print we found.'

‘
They may have a pair of boots in the van. I know they don't look as though they have much, but even these two could own more than one pair of shoes.'

‘
We'd need a search warrant to look in the van. We
don't have reasonable suspicion.
’

Stride lay back on the rock, letting his coat fall open, resting his head back so that he was gazing at the sky.
His hands were resting on his face near his eyes, but
the fingers were still. The smoke from his roll-up drifted
straight up for a few feet, then was caught in the wind
and dispersed. Whatever he could see up there in the
sky caused him to smile with some deep, inner pleasure.
The smile was so sudden that it made the detectives
look up as well. But there was nothing to be seen except
clouds scudding high across the moor. The clouds were
growing darker. There could be rain soon.

‘
If you think those wind chimes are strange, Cooper
has something else to show us,' said Hitchens
.

They walked round the quarry edge to a sheltered
spot enclosed by two rocks. In a shallow basin in one of the rocks were what appeared at first to be a series
of giant candles. They were made of wax, a foot tall,
and they had been carefully sculpted, each into the same
distinctive shape, with a long straight shaft, faintly
ribbed with veins, and a swollen, rounded head like a
cowl, with a small hole in the very tip. They were all
sorts of colours — swirling blues and reds, butter yellow,
subtle tints of brown and green, and a pure white one,
with delicate streaks of gold in the veins of the shaft.
They stood like soldiers on parade, pointing permanently skywards.

‘
That's disgusting,' said Tailby.

‘
They represent the phallus,' said Hitchens.

‘
I can see exactly what they represent,' said Tailby.
'And phallus wasn't the word that sprang to mind.'

‘
I think it probably takes quite some doing to get the
shape just right, like that. I was thinking of a nomination
for the Turner Prize.'

‘
And who is the Leonardo da Vinci we have to thank
for this lot?'

‘
The one called Cal. He's quite proud of them. He calls this place the phallus farm.'

‘
They're obscene.'

‘
I doubt they're committing an offence,' said Cooper.
'I don't want to look at them. Let's go back.
’

They walked back round the quarry to the path. Cooper noticed a group of women appear on the far side of the quarry. They were wearing cagoules and
leggings, bright and chatty. They looked down at Cal
and Stride for a while, then walked past the birch tree
and studied the wind chimes.

‘
Where's Acting DS Fry?' asked Tailby. 'Wasn't she
here earlier?'

‘
She has one of her sessions with Maggie Crew,' said
Hitchens.

‘
Oh, yes.' The DCI drew the words out like a sigh. He didn't sound hopeful of Maggie Crew
.

Tailby stood quietly for a minute, staring at the van
and the two youths. 'I've got a press conference to do in half an hour,' he said. 'What am I going to tell the
TV and the newspapers?'

‘
How about telling them to keep out of our bloody way?' suggested Hitchens.

‘
All right,' said Tailby. 'I've seen enough. Let's go.
’

The group of women had moved on. They could be
heard chatting again for a while. But they fell very silent
when they reached the rock that contained the phallus
farm
.

*

At the West Street HQ, they had already been making
structural alterations to the canteen. They had suc
ceeded in making it both smaller and less welcoming at the same time. Perhaps it was a deliberate ploy to
make the introduction of the vending machines seem
like an improvement
.

But E Division was lucky. Their neighbours in B
Division had no canteen at all. A mobile sandwich ser
vice called at the front of the building every lunchtime.
Beyond that, it was a question of a kettle, a jar of Nescafe
and a packet of chocolate biscuits in the corner of every
office. There could be no 'canteen culture' when there
was no canteen. Problem solved
.

Ben Cooper carried a cup of coffee to a table where
some of his shift were already sitting, and he arrived
in the middle of a conversation that immediately made
him uneasy.

‘
She's a real hard bitch,' Todd Weenink was saying
.

Opposite Weenink was Toni Gardner, a DC from
another shift, who still had her straight blonde hair tied
back into a ponytail in the fashion of the uniformed
officers. She nodded in agreement. 'She's a toughie, all
right.'

‘
Who are you talking about?' asked Cooper, though
he felt he could have a good guess.

‘
That Diane Fry,' said Weenink.

‘
A snotty cow, she is, too,' said Gardner
.

Cooper settled down on a spare chair, concentrating
on not spilling his coffee so that he didn't have to meet
anyone's eye.

‘
She's just trying too hard,' he said. 'She'll settle down
after a bit.
’

Weenink shook his head sadly. 'I don't know how you can be so tolerant. I know I wouldn't be, if it was me.'
Cooper looked at the officers round the table, and he
wanted to tell them about the time that Diane Fry had reluctantly confided in him the secrets of her past, the
dreadful history of her family, and the heroin-addict
sister she hadn't seen since she was sixteen. But he knew
it was impossible to share this knowledge with anyone
else.

‘
I'd tell her where to stick her stripes,' said Gardner.
She smiled at Todd Weenink, as if willing him to notice
that she was agreeing with him. Cooper realized that
there was more going on here. Todd had an attraction
for some women that he never fully understood. He
supposed it was a kind of overt masculinity, the sense
of sexual challenge in his dark smirk and the way he
held his body. Yet these things were not what women
said they looked for in men. Not the women Ben Cooper
talked to, anyway
.

Gradually, the conversation veered to other topics -
grumbles about supervisors, night shifts and salaries.
Every man there could have run E Division better than
the Divisional Commander. Under their guidance, the
clear-up rate would double. But then there were the
courts to deal with, of course. Not to mention the CPS.
The Criminal Preservation Society, they called it - the
body of lawyers given the responsibility of prosecuting
the alleged offenders the police produced for them. There was a general shaking of heads.

‘
And we're chasing up white vans tomorrow,' said Weenink. 'I can't wait.
’

Finally, the other officers drifted away and left Cooper and Weenink alone.

‘
Are you all right, Todd?'

‘
Sure. Why?'

‘
I just wondered what all that was about earlier on
today. What did you get called back for?'

‘
Oh, just the usual sort of bollocks,' said Weenink
dismissively. 'Somebody upstairs with their knickers in
a twist.
’

On the television screen in the corner of the room,
DCI Tailby's face appeared. It was a clip from the cover
age of the press conference. Tailby was trying to look
serious and professional, but hopeful.

‘
Todd,' said Cooper, 'what do you know about
Maggie Crew? The victim that Diane Fry is dealing with.'

‘
I know she can't remember much about the attack,
that's all. But I can't say I'd want to remember much
myself, really. It's tough on a woman, getting her face
messed up like that.'

‘
Do you know if she's ever been married or anything?'

‘
No. She's a solicitor, all business suits and fancy briefs. Likes to be called "Ms", I expect.'

‘
Has she got children?'

‘
Kids? You're joking. I bet her womb has cobwebs.'
Cooper ran his mind back over the earlier conver
sation. He felt dissatisfied with the way it had ended. 'Look, you have to realize she's a bit of an outsider,'
he said.

‘
Who?'

‘
Diane Fry. Being an outsider can be a difficult thing
to deal with. It takes time.'

‘
You don't have to tell me about that,' said Weenink.
'I'm an outsider, too. And I always will be. Neither one
thing nor the other, that's me.'

‘
You mean because you're Dutch?'

‘
Half-Dutch. My dad's from Rotterdam. He came over
to work in the British shipyards back in the seventies.
He ended up in Sheffield.'

‘
What shipyards?'

‘
Exactly. There are none left. That's why he ended up
in Sheffield. He worked in a steel mill, until that closed
too.'

‘
I bet you got the piss taken out of your name when
you were a kid.
’

Weenink scowled. 'Are you kidding? I cursed my dad
as a bastard every day, just because he gave me that
name. It's pronounced like "Vaining" but with a "k"
on the end, I'd say. I'd tell them and tell them till I was
blue in the face, but do you think they took any notice?'

‘
It was a joke,' said Cooper.

‘
What was?'

‘
Taking the piss. Like "wee", you know.
’

Weenink flushed. 'It's pronounced like "Vaining" ..
. . but with a "k" on the end. Right.
’

Cooper began to look around the canteen for an excuse to leave.

‘
Anyway,' said Weenink slowly, 'when I got bigger
than the rest of them, they stopped doing it.' His face
solidified into his notorious stare. 'Once I'd smashed
the first one's teeth in, anyway.
’