Leach grunted, and the chain tightened in his thick hands until the steel links squealed against each other.

‘It’ll mean I’ll have to move the cows down to the next field,’ he said.

‘Well, that’s no problem, is it?’

‘No problem? The grass is nearly finished in there. My milk yields’ll be gone to hell. They’re down already with all this disturbance.’

‘It’ll only be for a day or two, Warren.’

‘Would there be compensation, maybe? The police have got money. My money, from the Council Tax.’

‘I can’t imagine so. Think of it as a public service.’

Owen looked at Cooper, but Cooper just smiled.

‘Balls to that,’ said Leach.

‘Come on, Warren.’

Leach tossed the coupling pin into his other hand, slapping it against his palm. On a plastic drum, he had a square leather-bound case with steel clasps. Cooper wondered what it was. Somehow it didn’t look like a piece of farming equipment, more the sort of thing a doctor might carry his kit in for testing a patient’s blood pressure.

‘Only for a day or two, and that’s it,’ said Leach. ‘Tell your police friends they’ll have to get a move on. Let ’em work the same hours that I have to work to keep this farm going, instead of knocking off for tea every five minutes. I’ve seen it going on. I’m not stupid.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Cooper politely. But the farmer only glowered. ‘When would be convenient for an officer to come and talk to you?’

‘What?’

‘We need to take a statement from you. You’re well positioned here to be a witness.’

‘A witness to what? I went through all this with that other bloody woman that ended up on my land. I never saw this one either.’

‘Do you know who she was?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then how do you know you didn’t see her?’ Cooper smiled. ‘Somebody will probably call tomorrow to see you.’

The two men began to walk back towards the Ranger’s Land Rover.

‘I’ll be back to see you soon, Warren,’ said Owen.

‘Don’t bother, Ranger. As soon as I see that red jacket of yours, I’ll be halfway to Bakewell.’

They almost ran right into Yvonne Leach in the gateway as they drove out of the yard. She was a small woman, with wide hips and strands of light brown hair tied loosely back from her face. Owen stopped the Land Rover, and the woman shied away, as nervous as a sheep, rolling her eyes at the vehicle. But she couldn’t slip past quickly enough.

Owen wound down the window. ‘Yvonne – all right?’

‘Yes.’

‘We’ve just had a word with Warren. I wanted to tell you not to worry about what happened up there. There are plenty of police about here. You’ll be OK.’