Dain shook his head and flapped the moisture out of a bar cloth. ‘Not really. He looked like you or me. Not totally dark or anything, I mean. Not that kind of foreigner. He sounded like some of those blokes that have been doing the building work at Pity Wood.’

‘East European?’

‘Probably. I couldn’t be sure. A few of those builders came in here on Thursday, chattering away to each other. He sounded like them.’

‘Can you describe him? Age? Height? How was he dressed?’

‘Hold on, that’s too many questions all at once. I suppose he’d be about twenty-five or twenty-six, not above average height. Oh, and I do remember he was wearing a sort of black padded coat. You know, you see asylum seekers wearing them when they get pulled off the EuroStar.’

‘And you didn’t find anything else out about him?’ asked Cooper, sure that the landlord must have tried.

Dain wiped an imaginary spill off the bar counter with his cloth. ‘Close-mouthed, he was. I’d go so far as to say ignorant. I can’t do with folk like that, who come in here and don’t know how to make conversation. They take offence if you ask them an innocent question or two.’

‘Funny, that,’ said Cooper.

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

‘Bloody man. He never mentioned to me that his mother was still alive,’ said Fry when Cooper reported on his visit to the Dog Inn.

‘He probably thought she wouldn’t want to talk to you.’

‘Well, why –? Oh, never mind. It sounds as though you did well, Ben.’

‘Thanks,’ said Cooper, knowing that he hadn’t yet learned how to keep the note of surprise out of his voice on the rare occasion that she said something complimentary to him. ‘It’s a shame Mrs Dain didn’t have any photographs she could show me. I might try to make time to call at the heritage centre and see what they’ve got.’

‘Put it on your list,’ said Fry.

‘What’s next, then?’

Fry smiled. ‘I think I’d like to have a chat with your PC Palfreyman.’

‘Ex-PC.’

‘Whatever. Do you fancy a trip out?’

‘He’ll be absolutely delighted to see us,’ said Cooper.

David Palfreyman emerged from his kitchen to answer the door. Although he was in the house, he was still wearing his floppy hat. When a man wore a hat all the time, it usually meant that he was completely bald. But Cooper knew that Palfreyman still had some hair. Perhaps it was all those years of wearing a helmet that made his head feel naked.

‘Do you live on your own, Mr Palfreyman?’ said Cooper. ‘I never thought to ask you last time.’

‘I’m divorced. You know what it’s like – they can only stand the job for so long.’

‘Of course. It happens a lot.’