‘If you want, Ben. There’s nothing in it, though. Only a lot of pretentious drivel he likes to spout.’

But she did as he asked, and replayed the last couple of minutes.

‘Well, if that isn’t pretentious, I don’t know what is,’ she said.

‘Not that part,’ said Cooper. ‘Shh.’

They should decay in the open air until their flesh is gone, said the metallic voice.

Then there was a pause. And to Cooper it seemed a perfectly drawn-out pause, like the skilful timing of an experienced actor.

Or, of course, a sarcophagus.

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Melvyn Hudson forced himself to smile sympathetically at a passing griever. He was afraid his expression might come out as a grimace and give the wrong impression. As soon as he could, he took the old man by the arm and encouraged him gently towards the limousines.

‘It was nothing, Abraham,’ he said. ‘Nothing to do with us.’

‘Why did the police come, then?’

‘It was only one officer. Just routine enquiries, I expect.’

Abraham Slack was a little more frail than he used to be, and paler. But he still had a strength and dignity that made Hudson feel uncertain when he had to deal with him.

The old man took a deep breath. ‘It’s damaging to the firm’s reputation, Melvyn.’

‘Yes, yes, I know. But nothing will come of it.’

‘There would never have been anything like this in your father’s day.’

‘Abraham, you know damn well there wouldn’t still be a company if it weren’t for me – so don’t start telling me what it was like in my father’s day.’

Hudson realized he was losing his composure. He looked around anxiously, and saw some of the mourners watching him. This was the last funeral of the afternoon, and the crematorium staff would be getting impatient if the family weren’t shepherded off the premises soon.

‘This is not the time,’ he said.

‘We need to talk, Melvyn,’ said Abraham.

‘Later, later.’ Hudson brushed nervously at his black jacket as he strode back towards the chapel, his face returning automatically to its professional expression.

Tom Jarvis put on his boots and collected a spade from the workshop. He walked slowly away from the house, past the empty pigsties and down to a small paddock at the edge of the woods. They called this place the orchard because it contained two apple trees. But the fruit had suffered from blight for years, and now the windfalls already starting to litter the ground looked more like wrinkled plums than apples. Even the birds wouldn’t touch them, unless the winter weather got really bad.