‘But Dain was deliberately vague and misleading when I spoke to him,’ said Fry, starting to sound angry. ‘I know damn well he and his mother haven’t just suddenly remembered this Alan Sutton. In a place the size of Rakedale, it’s inconceivable that they wouldn’t know exactly who was in the family at Pity Wood. So what have they been trying to hide?’

‘I don’t think they’ve been trying to hide anything really,’ said Cooper. ‘I think they were protecting him, in their own way.’

‘Protecting Alan Sutton? From what? Interest by the police?’

‘Possibly. Or from being found by his brothers.’

Fry considered it, her mouth tight with irritation. ‘You think the Dains took sides in some sort of dispute between the Suttons? Maybe they know where Alan is, and they’ve made a promise not to tell anyone.’

‘It would explain their behaviour. They would have been worried that we’d go off and find him.’

‘On the other hand, they might be taking Raymond’s side.’

‘How so?’

‘Well, Raymond seems to have sold the farm without any reference to his younger brother. Shouldn’t Alan be due a share of the proceeds? But if he’s disappeared to the other side of the world and lost touch, Raymond could be hoping that he never gets to hear of the sale – or at least, not until it’s too late.’

‘That’s a theory, too,’ said Cooper.

Fry was silent for a while as they drove, but Cooper knew she wasn’t going to let the question drop. He could almost hear the calculations going on in her mind as she gazed at the photograph of the three brothers.

‘So what really happened to Alan Sutton?’ she said at last.

Cooper looked at her. ‘What makes you think something happened to him?’

‘Well, given the recent history of the family, it seems a good bet.’

‘I don’t know. You could be right. But all we really know is that Alan went away. I had a quick check through the records – there was no report of him missing at the time.’

‘But who was likely to put in a misper report?’

‘His brothers.’

Cooper thought of the plan of Pity Wood Farm, with the grave sites cleared marked on the eastern boundary. Fry might be right in her suggestion. If one of the victims they’d found had been male, he could have a guess at the identity, too.

‘But if Alan Sutton met an unpleasant end somewhere, it wasn’t at the farm,’ he said. ‘The search would have turned him up by now, wouldn’t it?’

‘We could try to find him, wherever he’s got to. But it would take an awful lot of work. A common name like Sutton … And if he hasn’t been around at the farm for nearly ten years, he’s out of the time frame, anyway.’