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this chief superintendent had joined Derbyshire from the West Midlands, just as she had herself.
    It was funny to think now how frustrated she’d felt at being co-opted into discussions about inter-force cooperation last year. At the time it had seemed to have no relevance to her own career. She’d felt as though she was just waiting for an opportunity to move back to Birmingham, something that was beginning to look less and likely among all the cuts and restructuring.
    But then the regional Major Crime Unit had become a reality, as all five forces in the East Midlands disbanded their own units in an effort to save cash. Its remit was to investigate all murders and other major crimes in the region, including kidnappings.
    Thoughmurders were still few in number, they caused massive disruption to local forces, especially in the first week of an inquiry. The regional unit meant that officers from Derbyshire had to support their colleagues in neighbouring areas, even those as far away as Lincolnshire or Northamptonshire. She now had the chance to operate in towns and cities well away from the rural wastelands of the Peak District.
    The Northern Command of EMSOU – MC was based in the city of Nottingham, barely more than a forty-mile drive from Edendale, yet it might as well be a world away.
    Fry called her office back.
    ‘This turn-out. Who’s on the ground at the moment?’
    ‘Local CID officers. I don’t know exactly who. Do you want me to get a name to make contact with?’
    ‘No, it won’t make any difference,’ said Fry. ‘I’ll find out soon enough when I arrive.’
    Local CID. Oh well. At one time not too long ago, that could have meant her. But she knew it was always important to have local officers on scene, especially in the first days of a murder. Her new boss was very keen on the benefits of local knowledge. She’d read a newspaper interview in which he’d talked about his earlier career. He’d said that during one murder investigation he’d been approached at a crime scene by two burglars whose sentences he’d applied to have extended, but who wanted to give him information about the suspect. They’d done that just because they knew him. Personal contact created a strange kind of bond. It earned trust, even from someone you’d helped to put away for a spell.
    Fry knew there were plenty of officers in the northern part of Derbyshire who had that kind of local knowledge and experience, particularly the personal contacts that might prove invaluable.
    Shewas on the dual carriageway now, passing the old brewing town of Kimberley and the IKEA retail park.
    ‘Control?’ she said. ‘Is Oxlow Moor located in B or E Division?’
    ‘E, I think.’
    ‘Okay, thank you.’
    Fry sighed. Well, it would only be temporary. In the subsequent weeks of an inquiry, when more detailed forensic investigations were taking place, it wasn’t so vital to have local officers involved. Everyone was trained to the same standard and used identical systems, so it wasn’t necessary. A central capability resulted in a more sensible use of available resources.
    Of course, it was disloyal of her to think like this, in a way. She remained employed by Derbyshire Constabulary, though she had a new base away from the area she lived in. Her chief had said publicly that, despite his change of role, he would not be leaving Derby, which had been his family home for years.
    But that was where she parted company with him. She didn’t feel quite the same about Edendale.
    ‘One last thing …’ she said.
    ‘Yes, Sergeant?’
    ‘Have you got a postcode for this place I’m going to?’ she said. ‘My sat nav doesn’t seem to recognise it.’
    While he waited on Oxlow Moor, Cooper walked a few yards away from the smoke still drifting off the hill, and found himself looking down at the long drop into the valley.
    Below him the road was crossed by the Limestone Way, one of Derbyshire’s most popular trails, which ended a few miles to