‘Not all the parents are officers: the Neville lad’s mother works in the canteen at the Leathergate substation, the Rick lad’s father is a DC in Spinnergate, and Matthew Baker’s dad is a CID sergeant in Spinnergate.’
Coffin looked at him. ‘Archie Chinner?’
The chief superintendent looked away, out of the window. ‘Yes, the boy’s my godson. His father is a police surgeon as I said.’
‘Sorry.’ There was a pause. ‘Would you like to withdraw from any interest in the case?’
Young shook his head. ‘No, I couldn’t. In any case, Paddy Devlin is really handling it for all practical purposes, and she’s good.’
‘So I have heard.’ They were passing through a large council estate, the Attlee Estate, which provided plenty of work for the Second City force. The press blamed youth unemployment, but Coffin wondered.
‘From different districts but, you say, all four boys went to the same school?’
‘It’s a very big comprehensive, good academically so parents are pleased if their kid goes there, got an Oxford scholarship last year. A bus goes round picking up the pupils to ferry them there.’
‘It’s worth thinking about the school,’ said Coffin thoughtfully.
‘You can bet we are. Going over the place with a fine comb, nobody missed out.’
The road wound up a hill crested with trees and open land. ‘Plans to turn this into a park, but nothing has come of it yet.’
There were several police cars parked at the kerb, and a uniformed constable talking to a TV camera team. Coffin and Archie Young drove past the group fast.
At the top of the hill there was a thick belt of trees and bushes. Here an area was marked off by tape.
‘He was found buried there.’ Archie Young nodded to where the grass was already dug up. ‘A shallow grave; the couple that found him noticed the flies buzzing around … And the smell,’ he added. ‘Then they saw the top of a shoe … trainer, the sort kids wear all the time now.’
Coffin walked over to look at the grave where white-coated forensic workers were still going over the ground. Other men were slowly searching the little patch of woodland.
‘Looking for anything,’ said Archie Young. ‘Not much to go on so far …’
‘Except the bloody clothes. And the other limb.’
‘Already in the lab being gone over.’
A tall woman appeared through the bushes. “Afternoon, sir.’
Coffin smiled and held out his hand. ‘Inspector Devlin. I believe I saw you at a party my wife gave in the theatre.’
‘I’m one of her fans, go to nearly everything she does – I think she’s brilliant. And I was in the audience for you, sir, when you talked to us about advances in communication-techniques crime.’
‘You’ve got a nasty one here,’ said Coffin.
Paddy Devlin gave Archie Young a quick look. ‘Yes,’ she said to Coffin. ‘We are giving of our best, I can promise you.’
‘I just wanted to come and look.’
‘Glad you did, sir.’
He looked up the slope of the hill. ‘How was the body brought here? Or was he killed on the spot?’
‘No, it looks as though he had been dead a day or two before he was buried here. As for being brought here …’ She shrugged. ‘You could park a car on the road up there, it’s very deserted at night, then carry the body down, or use a market trolley. You wouldn’t have to pinch one, plenty of them left around the streets.’
Coffin took a few paces through the trees, looking towards the road. ‘I think you are right. There will be traces left.’
‘Forensic think they have found some … marks on the ground, broken branches on the bushes.’
‘Good.’ He looked from Inspector Devlin to Archie Young. ‘I would like to speak to the boy’s father myself. All right?’
‘I think Dr Chinner went back to work … It’s a one-man practice and he felt he must do. On the Attlee Estate, no one else will work there.’
‘I’ll drive you,’ said Archie.
Coffin still had his eyes on Inspector Devlin as they drove away. ‘I hope she’s up to it.’
‘She certainly is.’ Archie spoke out loud and clear. ‘One of the best we’ve got. I can’t say what state Chinner will be in; he had himself under control but it may not have lasted … and I wouldn’t blame him.’
‘What about the mother?’
‘She’s dead. Geoff and I knew each other at school, and we were neighbours … he always had this missionary, must-help-the-public, spirit, that’s why he works in the Attlee bunker. It is that … metal grilles on the windows, special locks on the door … broken into about once a week even then.’
‘I can imagine.’
Archie Young drove efficiently towards the Attlee Estate, straight up to the surgery which did indeed have an embattled air, but where the outside windows were newly painted and there was a flower in a pot on the outer windowsill.
‘I hope he’s got that geranium nailed down,’ said Archie as he parked. ‘Or perhaps he takes it home at night.’
‘He doesn’t live over the shop?’
‘No, would you? Got a nice house round the corner from me in Oakwood Drive … but neglected since his wife died.’
‘Keeps this place up, though,’ said Coffin, getting out of the car.
Archie did not answer, he was already striding forward to Dr Chinner’s surgery.
The waiting room was not crowded: an old man with a stick and bent back, a woman with a baby on her lap, and a dog that seemed to have come in for attention on his own – he had a bandaged leg.
‘Thank God I haven’t got Gus with me, he’d probably join the queue.’ He knew, as any dog owner does, that dogs are terrible hypochondriacs.
Dr Chinner appeared, ushering out the last patient, a woman with her child. ‘There’s that dog again,’ he said. ‘Why can’t he go home. Hop it, Jason.’
Jason did not.
‘He thinks he’s your dog, you see. Doctor,’ volunteered the old man.
‘I expect he will be in the end,’ said the doctor. He looked at Archie and Coffin, gave them a nod, and said that they could have five minutes and no more.
Coffin thought that he had never seen a man holding the pressure inside him down more strongly and dangerously: he might explode
