Fall Down Dead

31

Derbyshire Constabulary’s headquarters were tucked out of the way in the Butterley area of Ripley, accessed from an anonymous roundabout on the A610 near a McDonald’s drive-through and a Sainsbury’s supermarket.

It was a long while since Ben Cooper had been here, and then it was for a meeting at Operational Support in their base off Wyatt’s Way. Since his last visit, the administrative departments had moved into a gleaming new building they shared with the fire service, and which seemed to be made mostly of glass.

As he drove in through the security barriers, Cooper saw the NPAS helicopter sitting on its pad behind the dog kennels at the rear of the site. He found a place in the visitors’ car park backing onto the sports fields and collected an identity badge from reception. Then there was a wait before his appointment.

He took a seat in the reception area, clutching the manila folder he’d brought with him. He spent the time running back over his conversation late last night, after he’d left Bridge End Farm and parted with Chloe Young. Even now, he could hardly believe what he’d done. But if he was going to help Diane Fry, it was inevitable. He’d called Angie, without telling Diane what he was going to do. He could just hear what she would have to say about that. She’d always hated any contact between her professional and personal lives, particularly between him and her sister. They had a history, and Diane never forgot.

‘I don’t think there’s anyone who can be trusted,’ Angie had said to him.

‘Do you not trust me?’

She’d been silent for a while. Cooper had been able to hear a baby in the background, making that annoying grizzling sound babies did. He thought of suggesting to Angie that Zack was teething, but decided she wouldn’t appreciate the advice. Not coming from him.

‘I don’t know you very well,’ she’d said, ‘but...’

‘But...?’

‘OK. Give me your email address.’

‘Great.’

Cooper jerked upright when his name was called. He was taken upstairs and ushered into a room. The Professional Standards Department investigator introduced himself as Martin Jackson. He was accompanied by a colleague, who took notes.

‘Detective Inspector Cooper,’ said Jackson. ‘You feel you have something to contribute to this hearing?’

‘Yes, sir, I do.’

‘Mmm. How long have you known Detective Sergeant Fry?’

‘Since she first transferred to Derbyshire from West Midlands. She was assigned to E Division, where I was based.’

‘E Division.’

‘Now Edendale LPU,’ said Cooper. ‘North Division.’

‘Ah yes.’

‘We were both DCs then, part of the same shift in Divisional CID. We’ve worked closely together a number of times since those days.’

‘When Fry was promoted to detective sergeant...?’

‘I was still a DC, yes. So I became part of her team.’

‘And now you’re a DI and you’re senior to her,’ said Jackson. ‘So you’ve observed her from several perspectives, serving in different roles. You’ve had experience of her as a colleague, a supervisor and now as a more junior officer working in a different unit.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And as a friend, would you say?’

Cooper could see he was suddenly being studied more closely for his reaction. He hesitated, though only for a second.

‘She isn’t an easy person to make friends with,’ he said.

His interviewers exchanged glances.

‘No, we’ve already gained that impression. So would you maintain that your opinion of Detective Sergeant Fry is purely a professional one, unbiased by personal feelings?’

‘I would,’ said Cooper.

That was the first lie he’d told. But exactly what feelings were involved? He’d be hard pressed to explain them to himself. Any attempt at explaining them to these two people would only muddy the waters and make his statement seem unreliable. Sometimes there was a necessity for reticence.

The chief inspector was nodding, as if satisfied by his replies.

‘So then, Detective Inspector Cooper, would you say that DS Fry’s conduct has always been entirely professional, in your experience?’

Cooper paused again.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Certainly not.’

Diane Fry jumped when the call came through on her mobile. She saw the number was a Birmingham code. She left her desk and walked out into the corridor as she answered it.

‘Yes?’

‘Diane?’

‘Who else would it be?’

William Leeson laughed, but began to cough before he could speak.

‘Where are you? Is anyone nearby?’

‘Wait.’

Fry looked around and found a quiet spot where she couldn’t be overheard.

‘It’s OK now.’

‘I’m sending you an email,’ he said. ‘To your personal email address. Can you get it on your phone?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK, sending now.’

Fry saw an email appear in her inbox with several attachments. She opened them cautiously. You could never be too careful.

He rang off. She looked at the first one, then scrolled through the others rapidly, in increasing disbelief. He’d sent her a series of cartoons, some of which she recognised as being taken from the Police Federation magazine. There was one showing a sergeant using an e-form on a hand-held device to request a Taser during a riot and failing to get a signal. Another featured Hercule Poirot saying, ‘Not now, Hastings. I’m following a suspect on Twitter.’ Was she supposed to laugh?

‘Bastard!’ she said.

An officer passing the end of the corridor turned to stare at her in surprise. Fry realised she’d sworn much too loudly. But sometimes circumstances demanded it.

In Ripley, Martin Jackson tapped his fingers together and sat back in his chair with a hint of satisfaction at Ben Cooper’s reply.

‘Let’s get this straight, Detective Inspector Cooper,’ he said. ‘You’re saying that you haven’t always found DS Fry to be entirely professional?’

‘No,’ said Cooper. ‘Well, most of the time, yes.’

‘Would you like to expand on that?’

‘What I mean is that I’ve seen her go above and beyond her professional duty many times. I’ve seen her put herself at risk to protect both the public and her colleagues, or to apprehend a suspect. She’s one of the bravest officers I know. While others might stand back and follow approved procedures, she puts herself on the line time after time. She may have made mistakes, but they’ve been honest ones, done with the best of intentions and a dedication to the job.’

‘You have no doubts about her integrity?’

‘None.’

‘Her honesty?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Some of your colleagues might disagree.’

‘She’s been unfairly portrayed by some as dishonest or unprofessional. I’m here to put the record straight.’

Jackson nodded almost imperceptibly. He no longer looked quite so satisfied. Cooper could see him preparing to change tack. It was a standard interview technique, designed to catch your interviewee off guard.

‘And I believe you’ve met DS Fry’s sister,’ said Jackson. ‘Is that right?’

‘Angie? Yes, I have.’

‘Are you familiar with her background, and her associates?’

‘Some of them,’ said Cooper. ‘But I’m sure DS Fry made every attempt to distance herself. I’m confident she had no involvement in anything that would bring the force into disrepute.’

Then he was asking questions about an incident in Nottinghamshire that he could truthfully say he knew nothing about, and Diane Fry’s visit to Birmingham when her cold case was reopened. For a while after that, Jackson repeated the same questions, phrasing them differently, probing for inconsistencies. Cooper kept to simple answers, resisting the temptation to say more than he already had.

Finally, his ordeal was over.

‘Thank you for your input, Detective Inspector,’ said Jackson. ‘Your contribution to this inquiry is duly recorded. We’ll let you go back to your duties. I’m sure you’re very busy.’

From Jackson, it sounded patronising. But Cooper smiled politely and leaned over the table as he stood up.

‘There’s just one more thing,’ he said.

‘Oh?’

Cooper opened the folder he was carrying and placed a small stack of documents on the table.

‘Yes, there’s this.’

‘What is it?’

‘Evidence of a conspiracy among serving officers in West Midlands Police. Oh, only a small handful of them, it’s true. But they have a long reach in these cases, don’t they? They want to bring Diane Fry down because they think she has information that could compromise them. I spent all last night reading this stuff. It made me want to get outside so the fresh air could blow the stink away. It’s clear to me that officers in the West Midlands undermined a witness and deliberately deterred her from testifying in DS Fry’s rape case to prevent it from going to court.’

‘Why would they do that?’

‘So their own complicity wouldn’t come to light. It was a case that could have been prosecuted successfully years ago. When DS Fry began her own inquiries in Birmingham, they were afraid she would dig up the truth. As you’ll see, they’ve been busy trying to build a case to discredit her, clutching at any straw they could find. You’ve been fed the ammunition, sir.’

‘But why now?’ said Jackson. ‘This case was some time ago.’

‘I’m afraid it stems from Fry’s sister.’

‘Ah. Angela Jane.’

Cooper nodded. ‘Angie has been speaking too freely. Her former boyfriend was pulled in for drugs offences last month, and he shared everything he’d heard, or overheard. When certain officers discovered who Fry had been talking to, they wanted to strike first. They wanted to make sure she was silenced.’

Still Jackson seemed reluctant to touch the documents.

‘So where did you get these from?’

‘It hardly matters, does it?’ said Cooper. ‘We both know that there are ways and means of getting information when it’s needed. You could have got this for yourself, if you’d tried.’

He left the office without looking back, and hurried downstairs, expecting to be called back at any moment. But he handed in his visitor’s pass and reached his car without anyone stopping him. He felt like a criminal leaving the scene of a crime.

As he drove out of the headquarters complex on the one-way system, Cooper gazed at the buildings he passed. He was amazed — not at the questions he’d been asked but at the answers he’d given. He’d gone to the interview without preparing what he was going to say, just knowing that he had to say something. And now he was surprised by all the things he’d come out with, the views he never knew he had.

He smiled as he put distance between himself and Ripley. There had still only been one lie too.

Another call from Carol Villiers was waiting on his phone for him to answer.

‘Ben,’ she said when he called back. ‘We’ve had a report from Trespass Lodge, the Roths’ property. Mrs Roth has reported her husband missing. She says she hasn’t seen Darius since last night.’