The Puppet Show (Washington Poe)

SLEUTH was Cumbria police’s intelligence system. Any intelligence, whether it was criminal behaviour or not, would be recorded there. Reid said he’d also ring Gamble to brief him on where they were.

After he’d left, Poe said to Bradshaw. ‘While he’s away, Tilly, can you have a look and see what you can dig up?’

‘Can I go back to the hotel, Poe? The wi-fi is stronger there.’

‘I’ll give you a lift unless . . . unless you want me to show you how to drive the quad?’

Bradshaw looked at Flynn in excitement. ‘Can I, DI Stephanie Flynn? Please. Please.’

‘Can she?’ Flynn asked Poe.

‘Makes sense,’ he replied. ‘We don’t know how long we’re going to be up here and we all need to be mobile.’

‘Go for it, Tilly,’ Flynn said. She looked at Poe, then added, ‘Just don’t tell your mother.’

For twenty minutes Poe demonstrated how to drive the quad. Other than computer games, Bradshaw had no driving experience whatsoever, but it was easy and she picked it up quickly. He showed her how to turn it on and off, how to disengage the brake and how to put it into drive. The throttle was on the right-hand grip and the rest, he explained, was a case of not getting stuck. Bradshaw laughed and smiled the whole way through.

After five minutes of supervised riding she was proficient enough to set off on her own.

They watched her leave as if she were their daughter going off to college.

‘And mind the road!’ Poe shouted. Crossing the A6 was the only time she’d be on a road; technically she needed a licence to cross it. He glanced at Flynn and hoped she hadn’t realised.

Bradshaw waved without looking back.

With half the team away on tasks, and with nothing for them to do until they reported back, Flynn and Poe took Edgar for a walk. It was mid-afternoon and it felt like they’d made some progress. The weather was the same as the day before but somehow it seemed brighter. It was funny how mood affected the senses.

Flynn asked him about Herdwick Croft and how he’d ended up living there.

‘Bit of luck, really,’ he told her. ‘I wanted to buy something outright after I sold my flat but I needed something cheap as I assumed I’d be getting sacked. I was queuing at the council offices in Kendal, seeing if I qualified for housing support, and I happened to be standing behind this farmer. He was raging at this poor woman behind the reception desk. I calmed him down and took him for a pint. He told me that he owned large swathes of Shap Fell – the fell we’re on now – and some bean counter

in the council tax department had decided that, as Herdwick Croft had once been a shepherd’s dwelling, albeit over two hundred years ago, it was eligible for council tax. And without any discussion he’d been sent a bill through the post.’

Flynn turned to look at the croft in the distance. ‘It’s a smallish building, though. Why didn’t he just pay it?’

‘It might be small but it’s near Kendal and that means it’s in a high band. He couldn’t even knock it down as it’s a Grade II listed building.’

‘So you offered to buy it?’

‘Did the deal that afternoon. Paid him cash for the building and the land. Twenty acres of bleak and desolate moorland. I spent a few grand on a reliable generator, hired a company to dig a borehole and put a pump in. Another lot buried the septic tank; it gets emptied every two years apparently. My only outgoings are generator fuel, gas and my car. Comes to less than two hundred quid a month.’

‘And now you’re back in the real world.’

‘And now I’m back in the real world. The IPCC investigation still stands so it may not be for too long.’

Flynn said nothing. There were no reassurances she could give him and he was grateful she didn’t try to sugar coat it.

A week ago, he’d have welcomed his termination. It would have been a full stop to that part of his life, but now, with his warrant card in his pocket, he was no longer sure he was ready to quit being a police officer. It had been depressingly easy to revert to ‘cop mode’. He knew one thing for sure though: Herdwick Croft was his home. He’d never move; he loved the land and he loved the solitude too much. Whatever the future brought, the isolated shepherd’s dwelling would remain part of it.

Flynn’s phone rang. She answered it, then said, ‘That was Tilly. She hasn’t found anything.’

Damn.

If Bradshaw couldn’t find anything, it was unlikely Reid would.

They made their way back to Herdwick Croft. They arrived at the same time as Bradshaw. The quad skidded to a halt and she leapt off with a huge smile. She was breathless with excitement and Poe’s first thought was that she’d found something after all until he realised it was simply the exhilaration of driving. She bounded over to Edgar and, with all the guile of a five-year-old, slipped him a piece of meat she must have begged from the hotel kitchen. She looked at Poe with an innocent face.

An hour later, Reid appeared. I’m going to have to get another quad, Poe thought. Reid had walked miles that day.