‘We turn them out and bring them in, but the girls do their own feeding, grooming and mucking out,’ said Mrs Forbes. ‘I like to see young people who aren’t afraid of a bit of hard work, don’t you?’
A younger woman dismounted from a horse and came across the yard to join them, leading her mount by its reins. When she reached them, she took off her helmet and shook her hair free. Mid-twenties, probably. She wore an expensive-looking riding outfit. Nice leather boots. And those beige jodhpurs – they fit her rather well. Fry glanced at Cooper to see if he was noticing.
‘This is my daughter, Alicia,’ said Mrs Forbes. ‘I started the yard about ten years ago, and Alicia has been helping me in the business full time for the past four, ever since she graduated. A BHS-qualified instructor, aren’t you, darling?’
Fry blinked, but then realized the last comment had been addressed to Alicia, not to her or Cooper.
‘And she’s terribly interested in the use of complementary therapies,’ said Mrs Forbes. ‘Essential oils and all that, you know.’
Fry looked at the young girls again, sweating under the weight of rugs and saddles. Feeding, grooming, turning out, bringing in, mucking out… She didn’t know what on earth it all was, but it sounded like an endless amount of work. And for what? For nothing more than the chance to climb on the back of one of these monkey-lipped creatures and prance about the countryside in a pair of fancy leather boots.
‘You appreciate we have to try to establish how Mr Rawson died, Mrs Forbes. You, and other members of the hunt, are potential witnesses. What we need from you is a list of who was present at the location of Tuesday’s meet from about eight a. m.’
‘Inspector Redfearn already asked us for that information.’
‘Yes, he did. But so far as I’m aware -’
‘Alicia?’
The younger woman produced an envelope from the pocket of her body warmer. ‘This is the list you want. The hunt secretary drew it up for you. Names, addresses and phone numbers. The times that each person arrived, and what they were doing between eight o’clock and nine thirty.’
‘You’ll find it’s a very short list, I’m afraid,’ said Mrs Forbes. ‘Largely the hunt servants, plus Alicia and I. And we were all much too busy to notice what was going on half a mile away from the meet, I can assure you.’
Fry could feel herself being pushed on to the back foot, and she didn’t like it.
‘Oh yes, of course,’ she said. ‘I suppose you all just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
She had the satisfaction of seeing a pained reaction. ‘Possibly.’
‘We still need to talk to everyone. One of you might have seen something significant.’
‘You’ll do what you have to do, Sergeant. Personally, I can tell you right now that I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, or anyone who shouldn’t have been there.’ Mrs Forbes smiled. ‘Apart from the antis, of course. But I don’t need to tell you that, surely? Now, if you’ll excuse me…’
The woman walked away towards the stables, and could be heard speaking to the girls. Fry turned her attention to Alicia.
‘You’re a member of the hunt, too?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you were out on Tuesday, I gather?’
‘Of course. We all want to show our support. But we didn’t see anything, really we didn’t.’
As the daughter spoke, she moved a hand to stroke the inside of her horse’s leg, where the skin looked smooth and soft. Fry found the gesture somehow disturbing.
‘I’ve no idea who that man was who died, and I’m sure Mummy hasn’t either,’ said Alicia. ‘We were just trying to get on with our own business, and avoid the antis. You’d be better talking to them, wouldn’t you?’
‘We have talked to them,’ said Fry. ‘But, you see, they weren’t on horseback.’
Alicia looked away. ‘I can’t help you.’
The horse swung around restlessly, pointing its haunches at Fry. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Cooper moving away towards Alicia Forbes. But she was feeling more confident now, and she stood her ground, even when the rear end bumped gently against her.
‘Do you happen to know the bridlepath called Badger’s Way, Miss Forbes?’ Cooper was asking.
‘Yes, I’ve ridden there a few times. But everyone uses it – it’s good to be able to get away from traffic for a while.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘There have been several incidents of reckless driving near horse riders in this area. Perhaps you know.’
‘Any motorists identified are being warned,’ said Cooper. ‘They could face prosecution for driving without due care and attention.’
Fry watched, feeling suddenly like a spare part, as Alicia Forbes looked Cooper up and down. She’d experienced this moment so often.
‘Do you have any animals yourself?’ she asked him.
‘Just a cat,’ he admitted, patting the horse’s neck.
‘Oh.’ Then she looked at his hand. ‘And you’re not wearing a wedding ring.’
‘No.’
‘I just wondered – I know not all men wear them, even when they’re married.’
‘So I’ve heard.’
‘So… are you? Married?’
‘No.’
‘You must be, what… thirty by now? Isn’t it time to settle down?’
‘Well, it’s not quite so simple.’
‘Mmm. I suppose not. Still – a single man, living alone with a cat. It could give the wrong impression.’
Just then, a powerful odour filled the yard. Not just the pervasive background smell, but something much more pungent and immediate.
‘Diane, watch out,’ said Cooper.
But he was too late. Fry felt the soft impact of warm, steaming lumps of fresh horse manure splattering on to her trousers and covering her shoes. For a second, she was so shocked that she couldn’t move. And the plops just kept coming. How did one animal manage to produce so much at one go?
As if by magic, Mrs Forbes herself had re-appeared to witness the moment.
‘Oh, I’m so terribly sorry,’ she said. ‘It appears you were standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
‘These hunting people,’ said Fry angrily as she got back into the Peugeot. ‘Honestly, talking to them is like flogging a dead -’
She stopped, realizing the stupidity of what she’d been about to say. As she started up the engine, Cooper got into the passenger seat. Fastening his seat belt, he wafted a hand in an exaggerated gesture.
‘Diane,’ he said, ‘I hope you don’t mind if I open the window? Only, it’s a bit -’
‘Yes,’ said Fry. ‘I know.’
Back at the office, Cooper found a place to hang his damp coat and fetched himself a coffee from the vending machine. Hardly coffee, really – but it was hot.
He stood for a moment watching Irvine and Hurst busy at work in the CID room. He was remembering again his first ever visit to Eyam, with the school party. He recalled that he’d brought back a souvenir from the village museum. Cooper smiled when he pictured it. His mother had hated the thing, and didn’t even want it in the house. She paid no attention to his explanation. Eyam was most famous as the Plague Village, right? So what else would you choose as a suitable souvenir to commemorate the Black Death? It was obvious, really. A black, plastic rat, with red eyes and a long, scaly tail.
The young Cooper had thought it was a fine example of Rattus rattus, the Black Rat – now one of the rarest mammals in the UK, thanks to its more successful cousin, the brown rat. The souvenir rat even came with its own information leaflet, explaining that this was the little beast that had spread from Asia to Europe in the Middle Ages, bringing its little gift of the bubonic plague. In dark corners of barns and warehouses it could be active at all hours, and ate almost anything it could find, its family groups organized on a hierarchical basis, dominated by one strong individual. They carried not only the plague, but typhus, rabies, salmonella, hantavirus, Weil’s disease… oh, and trichinosis, the pork roundworm. Thank God the natural mortality rate of rats was ninety per cent.