Dead And Buried

‘Out on the moor, in the snow? Probably they just walked round in circles. That happens to people in bad weather. You can’t get a proper sense of direction. I don’t suppose they had a compass with them or anything like that. And don’t forget, they were strangers to the area.’ He shrugged. ‘Hikers … Well, you know — they do all kinds of stupid things on the hills.’

‘Yes, sometimes.’

‘It’s surprising no one heard them calling out for help. I mean, they must have shouted when they realised they were lost, mustn’t they? Anyone would do that.’

Cooper thought Gullick was talking too much. He wasn’t used to that in the interview room. Everyone had watched TV and knew they were supposed to say ‘no comment’ all the time. But Gullick had even declined the presence of a duty solicitor. And now he seemed positively chatty. It didn’t ring true.

‘Mr Gullick, where were you at the time Aidan Merritt was killed?’

‘Working, of course. Monday, was it?’

‘Yes.’

‘I was at Bakewell Market, then. It’s Bakewell on Monday, Buxton on Tuesday, Derby Wednesday, Edendale Thursday, Matlock Friday and Chesterfield on Saturday. So I had the stall set up at Bakewell. I was there all day, from the crack of dawn to the bitter end. You can ask anyone — I’m not easy to miss.’

‘Can I take you back a few years?’ he said. ‘There was an incident at the Light House.’

‘What? Who …?’

Cooper glanced at his notes. Your friend Vince Naylor got into an argument with David Pearson.’

‘Oh, that. Old Vince, he’s a bit of a devil when he’s had a few drinks. He started chatting up the woman, and the bloke took objection. He had a bit of a temper on him, if you ask me. I mean, it was all in fun. No harm in it. And it came to nothing anyway.’

‘You left, didn’t you?’

‘Oh, yeah. Well, Maurice told us to. It was nearly closing time, so it was no hardship.’

‘Were you driving?’

Gullick looked shifty for once. ‘Er, well …’

‘I’m not interested in drink-driving right now,’ said Cooper.

‘Well, yes — we were in my van. We sat outside the pub for a bit to get some fresh air and sober up, then we went home.’

‘A bit of fresh air wouldn’t sober you up enough to drive legally.’

‘I thought you said-’

‘Yes, all right. But I’m thinking that you must still have been outside when the Pearsons left.’

Gullick brooded for a while.

‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ he said. ‘I never saw them. It’s not my concern what happened to them later. And it’s years ago, surely? All water under the bridge by now.’

‘Were you aware that Maurice Wharton was a former police officer?’

‘Yes, I was. He didn’t talk about himself, but it was fairly well known. Among the regulars anyway. He got shafted by the top brass. Took the blame for some incident down south.’

‘Is that the way the story goes?’

‘That’s it.’

‘He seemed to get a bit of respect in the pub, though. He sorted the lads out, when needed. He sorted you and Mr Naylor out, didn’t he?’

Gullick held out his hands palm up, a gesture of innocence.

‘Look, you had to keep on the right side of Maurice. If he gave you the hard word, you took notice. We didn’t want to get ourselves banned. And, to be fair, we’d drunk quite a bit. Vince in particular. Oh, there was plenty of alcohol drunk.’

‘I’ve heard that Maurice was drinking heavily himself by then,’ said Cooper.

‘Yes, that’s true. And then there was Eliot.’

‘Eliot Wharton doesn’t drink. He told me so.’

Gullick laughed. ‘Well, not any more. He was totally wasted that night in the Light House. Someone had been giving him spirits, I think.’

‘He would only have been fourteen or so.’

‘Kids start drinking early these days. You know that. But I reckon Eliot would have suffered for a few days. He wasn’t used to that amount of alcohol.’

Cooper regarded Gullick thoughtfully. He couldn’t make his mind up about him. Gullick was either very clever, or he’d failed to grasp the situation.

‘What do you do now, since the Light House closed?’ he asked.

‘We drink at the Badger, near Bradwell. But it’s not the same.’

‘What do you think?’ asked Villiers, when they’d let Gullick leave the interview room and go back to his cell.

‘Well I wouldn’t trust him. Would you?’

‘Not even to sell me a bag of carrots.’

‘We’re no closer to knowing what Aidan Merritt was up to.’

‘That only leaves one avenue then,’ said Cooper. ‘I’ll have to ask the first Mrs Rochester.’

22

When Diane Fry heard about the arrests, she was furious. DCI Mackenzie didn’t seem quite so perturbed by developments, which made her even more angry.

‘Why does it bother you so much, Diane?’ he said. ‘I thought being back among your old colleagues wasn’t a problem for you?’

That made her pause. ‘No, it isn’t.’

She could leave the self-analysis until later, but right now she felt as though somebody had got one up on her, and she knew who it was.

‘Sir, what can we do to take control back in this inquiry?’ she said.

Mackenzie smiled. ‘That’s better. Have you got any ideas?’

‘We could interview Henry Pearson again. Make it more formal this time, rather than the kid-gloves approach he’s been getting so far.’