Careless Love

6

It was quite clear when Poppy wobbled down the stairs that she had taken more than the recommended dose of Valium, perhaps even washed it down with vodka or brandy. Nevertheless, she seemed used to being perpetually stoned, and she carried it off well. Annie and Gerry certainly didn’t plan on babysitting her until her brother showed up, but they did want to talk to her. Which left them in a bit of a conundrum. They also needed to take Adele Balter to Eastvale mortuary to identify the body as soon as possible. The key fitted the door, which was a start, but only if and when they had a positive identification of the body could they really set an investigation in motion. But they didn’t dare leave Poppy alone in the house. The way things were going, it could be a crime scene and as such would need to be preserved. They certainly couldn’t have the Hadfield offspring walking around the place willy-nilly. Neither Poppy nor Ronald would be too pleased to hear that, Annie thought, but too bad.

In the end, Adele agreed to drive Gerry to the infirmary and then back to the police station to make a formal statement, and Annie would use the car she had signed out of the police garage. She certainly didn’t want Poppy driving, the state she was in, however nice her sports car was.

Gerry had come up with a simple solution to the Poppy problem earlier, which was to get her out of the house, somewhere neutral, and ask her the questions they wanted answered. Annie knew a country pub by the side of the middle reservoir and, though it was risky taking Poppy on licensed premises, it would certainly offer the most peaceful and soothing prospect for a chat. Then, depending on Adele Balter’s identification, Annie would already have Poppy out of the house and would simply have to prevent her from going back inside. Well, perhaps it wouldn’t be exactly simple, but a couple of burly uniformed constables guarding the scene should be able to see to it. On the other hand, with Poppy Hadfield, she was beginning to realise, you could never be quite sure.

The lounge bar wasn’t especially crowded just after lunch, when Annie and Poppy arrived. It was a pleasant enough space, with plush red covers on the chairs and banquettes and a number of hunting scenes on the walls. Keeping Poppy in view, Annie went to the bar and bought two Diet Cokes then took them back to the table.

Poppy took a sip of her drink and pulled a face. ‘What the fuck is this?’ she said, then proceeded to pour it on the floor.

So much for the soothing effects of Valium. Annie looked around in horror, but nobody had seen them. She managed the grab the glass from Poppy before it had been completely emptied. Luckily most of the Coke had gone under the table, where it was more or less hidden from view.

‘Stop being so fucking childish,’ she said, then managed to hold her anger in check and said, ‘I can get you a tea or coffee, if you’d prefer.’

‘What I’d like is a fucking gin and tonic, love. A double.’

‘Sorry. No can do.’

‘What do you mean, “no can do”?’ She did a passable imitation of Annie’s clenched tone.

‘I mean exactly what I say,’ Annie said. ‘And if you give me any more lip, I’ll have the handcuffs on you and drive you down to the station before you can say crack cocaine.’

Poppy snorted. ‘What planet have you been on? Nobody does crack any more.’

Annie reached for her handcuffs. ‘We’ll see what a night in the cells does for your temperament.’

‘All right, all right.’ Poppy said. ‘Enough with the hard-arsed act. I’ve seen Scott & Bailey.’

‘Where have you been? Nobody watches Scott & Bailey any more.’

Poppy scowled, then giggled. ‘Well, aren’t you the witty one? Tell me, are you gay?’

Annie just glared at her and drank some Coke.

‘OK. I promise to be good.’

‘I want you to understand the seriousness of the situation,’ Annie said. ‘Your father may well be dead. We’ll find out when Gerry phones me from the mortuary. We don’t know how he ended up that way, but you might be able to help us.’

‘Me, how? I told you, I just got here last night and he wasn’t around. I haven’t seen him for at least three weeks.’

‘So what did you do when you got here?’

‘I went to bed.’

‘After doing major damage to a bottle of cognac first, it appears.’

‘What’s that got to do with you? Why should you care what I drink?’

‘I care about the state of mind you’re in, and from where I’m sitting, it doesn’t look good.’

‘Well, fuck you. You don’t look so hot yourself. Besides, the bottle was already half empty.’

‘Oh, goody. That makes it so much better.’

‘You’re a real sarky bitch, do you know that?’

‘So I’ve been told on occasion.’

Annie’s phone rang like a sixties police car. Poppy laughed. ‘That was quick,’ Annie said, when Gerry spoke. ‘So what’s the verdict.’

‘Adele identified the body as that of Laurence Edward Hadfield. We’re just about to head up to the station to take her statement. I thought you’d want to know as soon as possible.’

‘Thanks,’ said Annie. ‘Appreciate it.’

‘How’s Poppy?’

‘Don’t ask.

‘That bad?’

‘I’ll talk to you later. Bye.’

‘Bye.’

Annie put her phone away and turned to Poppy. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve got some really bad news for you. That was my partner, Gerry. Adele Balter has just identified the body we found as that of your father.’

Poppy stared at her in silence for a moment, then she burst into tears.

After his lunch with Ray, Banks returned to his office on Friday afternoon and closed the door. Winsome would probably be back soon with the fruits of her morning’s labours, but in the meantime, Banks had paperwork to catch up with. As he did so, he listened to the Grateful Dead’s Cornell 5/8/77 concert.

Mostly the paperwork was a matter of signing memos to say he’d read them, then putting them back in their envelopes and posting them in the internal mail system again. Boring work, but the music helped. Garcia’s solo on ‘Scarlet Begonias’ was a joy to hear. In fact, any version of ‘Scarlet Begonias’ was guaranteed to lift Banks’s mood, no matter what menial task he was doing at the time.

Winsome knocked and entered during ‘Morning Dew’, an old favourite, and he reluctantly turned down the volume. Rather than have her sit across from him at the large work desk, they adjourned to the low glass coffee table and low-slung tube chairs. Winsome got out her notebook.

‘Busy day?’ Banks asked.

‘But fruitful, guv. Very fruitful.’

‘I’m all ears.’

‘First and easiest stop was the bursar’s office. No scholarship.’

‘You mean she lied to her parents?’

‘Well, I suppose she had to explain why she wasn’t hitting them up for money somehow. It wouldn’t make any difference to Luke Stoller, or to Neela.’

‘I suppose not. So where did the money come from?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine. Apparently she paid her fees directly out of her bank account. I’ve put a request in for her banking records for the last two years, but you know what they’re like. They take their time.’

‘OK, keep at them. Find out who deposited the money, and how. Cheque, electronic transfer, cash? So... she paid her own fees. Anything else?’

‘Well, that’s about it from the bursar. Next, I paid a visit to the student health centre.’

‘And?’

‘Nothing. They were a bit tougher, but luckily one of the nurses there is Jamaican, and she comes from a village not so far from me, so she was quite happy to tell me that Adrienne Munro had not availed herself of their services in either her first or her second year, except for a minor ear infection last February, for which the doctor prescribed a course of antibiotics. That was all. She balked at the mere suggestion they would hand out sleeping pills to students. They’re quite aware of problems with teen and student suicides and what have you. I must say, it seemed to me you’d have to have the signature of the Surgeon General to get a bloody Valium out of that lot, let alone a sleeping pill.’

Banks laughed. ‘Well, I suppose it’s good to know they’re in control of the situation. It doesn’t do us much good, though, does it? We still don’t know where the pills came from.’

‘Students usually manage to find drugs when they want them.’

‘I suppose so,’ Banks agreed.

‘I talked to Steph Dobyns from the drugs squad. They don’t know about anyone selling sleeping pills at The Cellar Club or any other of the student hangouts. Seems the market’s still mostly for E, a little coke and the occasional amphetamine. They want to stay awake, not fall asleep.’

‘Another blank.’

‘I made one more visit.’

‘Where to?’

‘Darlington. The animal welfare shelter.’

‘There’s a good chance that a place like that would stock some sort of animal tranquillisers, isn’t there? Jazz Singh is still working to identify exactly what pills Adrienne took.’

‘Apparently, they don’t,’ Winsome said. ‘They leave that sort of stuff to the vets. What’s interesting, though, is that no one there has seen Adrienne since summer.’

‘What? You mean she hasn’t been working weekends there?’

‘That’s right, guv. It surprised everyone because she loved her job, loved working with the animals. Was very good at it, too, so everyone told me.’

‘Did she just quit?’

‘Didn’t turn up. Not a word.’

‘When?’

‘Second week of term. She’d put a bit of time in over the summer and seemed set on carrying on with weekends like before, but...’

‘Now that is definitely strange. Everyone believed that’s where she spent her weekends. Her parents. Neela.’

‘I know. She’s been lying to them all. I talked to the girl Paula, the friend she sometimes stayed with in Darlington on weekends. She hasn’t seen or heard from Adrienne for weeks.’

‘So what was she doing?’

‘We don’t know. I also checked with Steph, and DI MacDonald over at criminal intelligence. They’ve got nothing on Adrienne Munro or any of her friends as far as drugs are concerned. Remember those names Neela mentioned?’

‘I remember,’ said Banks.

‘I managed to get a few more details out of the bursar’s office. They’re Jessica Mercer, Cameron Macrae, Chloe Sharma and Callum O’Brien. I ran them through the system. None of them have as much as a traffic offence or drunk and disorderly against them. And Steph says she knows quite a few of the Eastvale students do E, but this lot doesn’t come up in any of their more serious drug offence intelligence.’

‘So nothing?’

‘Clean records all. Including Colin Fairfax.’

‘Didn’t Neela mention someone called Mia?’

‘She did. But there’s no trace of a Mia anywhere in the college records.’

‘Odd. Maybe it was a nickname? Or perhaps she wasn’t a student? You do get a few townies hanging about now and then.’

‘And sometimes it’s the townies who bring in the drugs,’ said Winsome.

‘Well,’ said Banks, ‘we seem to be developing a bit of a narrative here. A bright, attractive young woman dumps her “nice” boyfriend for no apparent reason, lies about a non-existent scholarship and a weekend job, even to her best friend, has mood changes, seems a bit anxious, distracted, even apprehensive, isn’t doing so well at her course work, doesn’t hang out with her friends like before. There’s something we’re missing here. The question is, what’s it all adding up to?’

‘Drugs,’ said Winsome. ‘Neela admitted that they did E once in a while, but it could have become more serious than that. For Adrienne, at any rate. It’s not a great stretch from that to maybe selling some E. Other stuff, too. We know there’s a drug problem at the college, and we know the big city gangs use kids as mules to get the stuff into rural areas.’

‘Check out this mysterious Mia a bit more. Perhaps she’s the connection, the catalyst, setting up a pipeline then disappearing into the background. See if you can find out anything about her.’

Winsome nodded. ‘Will do, guv.’

‘What about the ex-boyfriend, Colin Fairfax? You said he’s clean, too, right?’

‘As a whistle. I did a more in-depth check on him. No form. Good student. Fine cricketer, too, apparently. He’s in the modern languages department. Last lecture is two to three this afternoon. After that, he can usually be found in the student pub.’

Banks glanced at his watch. ‘What are we waiting for, then?’

‘I suppose I was just trying to pretend to myself that it wasn’t Daddy,’ said Poppy, dabbing at her eyes. ‘That he was really all right, you know. I don’t care what you think of me, maybe I am a total fuck-up, but I did love him.’ She put the handkerchief to her eyes again, now smeared black with mascara. When Annie realised the genuineness of her grief, she relented and went back to the bar and bought her a double gin and tonic along with another Diet Coke for herself. One or two people were staring at them now, but Annie ignored them. Poppy took a swig then set the drink down, gave Annie a ghost of a smile and whispered, ‘Thank you.’

Annie also found herself feeling sorry for Poppy because she was clearly going to have to deal with her father’s death on her own. Ronald Hadfield turned out to be unavailable. According to his personal assistant, he was in Tokyo for a series of important business meetings and wouldn’t be back until after the weekend. The PA said she would attempt to contact him about his father, but even if he dropped everything right now, it would still take some time to arrange flights and get back. Then there was the time difference. ‘Tell me about your father,’ Annie said.

‘I told you. I loved Daddy. I suppose I was his favourite, “daddy’s girl”, though I never tried to seek his approval. Quite the opposite, really. It was Ronald who was desperate to impress and please him, but it never got him very far. Daddy was a complex person.’

‘Didn’t he and Ronald get along?’

Poppy shook her head. ‘Too alike. Peas in a pod. Fractious. I suppose that’s how I’d describe their relationship.’

‘And yours?’

She widened her eyes. ‘With Ronald? He’s a stuffy old bore as far as I’m concerned. And a cold fish, to boot.’

‘What did your father do, exactly? I know he was in finance, but in what way?’

Poppy shook her head. ‘I really have no idea. That world is beyond me. Don’t you know I’m just a good-time girl? I’m thick. I hardly got any more “O” levels than Princess Diana. As long as the money keeps coming in, I don’t ask where it’s from, I just spend it. Daddy did deals, facilitated things for people. Offers bribes and loans for all I know. I never asked him and he never said. Why?’

‘The circumstances of his death are a little unusual, to say the least.’

‘Are you saying he was murdered?’

‘No. There’s no evidence of that. But there are a lot of questions to be answered.’

‘You think it could have had something to do with his work?’

‘Possibly something to do with the world he worked in. It’s easy to make enemies when you’re handling huge amounts of money. Easy to upset the wrong people.’

‘Oh, I’m sure Daddy pissed off the odd CEO or two.’ Poppy went back to her drink. She seemed much calmer now, even lucid, and far less likely to need to create a scene.

‘Did you visit him up here often?’

‘Now and then, when I felt the need to get away for a few days.’

‘Did you ever see him with anyone?’

‘What do you mean? Like a woman? A girlfriend?’

‘Maybe.’

‘No. Never. Not since Mummy died. I’m sure he must have had some female company, but if he did he was very discreet about it.’

‘Other friends?’

‘He had people around occasionally. Other businessmen. Local bigwigs. But he’d usually advise me not to come if he was going to be busy networking. They were all such bores.’

‘Oh? I thought you just dropped in when the spirit moved you?’

Poppy snorted. ‘You must have been listening to Balter. She thinks I’m the devil incarnate, or some female version of it.’

‘So you don’t just drop by whenever you feel like it?’

‘I always check with Daddy first. If he’s going away or going to be busy, I put off my visit. I wouldn’t want to drop in and find him... you know... with someone. There are plenty of places I can go when I want a break from the city.’

‘But I thought you arrived at all times of the day and night whenever you needed to get away?’

‘Balter again. I like driving at night. I’m afraid of the dark. It helps to be doing something like driving up the M1 with lot of other cars around and the music playing loud.’

‘I see. And that’s what you did last night?’

‘Yes.’

‘When did you last speak to your father?’

‘I rang him on Friday and asked if I might come up for the weekend. He told me he was busy, but it would be OK to come midweek.’

‘Was that unusual?’

‘Not at all.’

‘Did he say what he was going to be busy with over the weekend?’

‘No. Like I said, he never explained his business to me, and I never questioned him about it.’

‘Were you here the weekend before?’

‘No. I went to Brighton. Well, just outside. A country house party. Lady Barton. You wouldn’t know her.’

Poppy excused herself to ‘powder her nose’. Annie stared at a hunting scene and felt sorry for the fox. Poppy came back. Her expression was set, lips downturned at the edges, eyes still watery. She sniffled occasionally, and Annie couldn’t tell whether it was due to a quick snort of coke or grief. Probably a bit of both.

‘What time did you arrive last night?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t wear a watch. Time’s a nuisance.’

‘Tell me about it.’

Poppy squinted at her. ‘You’re weird, you are.’

‘So I’m told. Guess what time you arrived.’

‘Maybe two, three in the morning. I know I was tired, too tired to unpack.’

‘Did you expect your father to be awake at that time?’

‘Not really. But he knew I was coming. I assumed he’d be home.’

‘So you were worried when you arrived and found him absent?’

‘Not at first. Like I said, I was tired. He didn’t usually wait up for me. I thought he was probably in bed asleep. I tried to keep quiet, so as not to disturb him. I had a few drinks, just to take the edge off, like. Next thing I knew it was the following morning and Balter was knocking at the bedroom door.’

‘You were worried then?’

‘Yes, when he wasn’t anywhere to be found. I’d tried to phone him on his mobile earlier, when I first woke up. He never goes anywhere without it. But it went straight to voicemail.’

‘It was in his study. Didn’t you hear it ring?’

‘No. I was in bed when I called. It’s a long way.’ She put her fingers in her ears. ‘Besides, my hearing’s not great at the best of times. Too many loud rock concerts. Tinnitus. I didn’t hear anything until Balter started banging on the door.’

‘You were once connected with Nate Maddock, right?’

‘I’d rather not talk about that period of my life. Besides, it’s not relevant to my father’s death.’

‘And now you’re connected with a supermodel?’

‘That’s rubbish,’ Poppy snorted. ‘Just the fucking tabloids wanking themselves off as usual. Gretchen’s just a drinking buddy. I’m unattached at the moment, and not looking for anyone, either. Man or woman.’ She slugged back the rest of the gin. ‘I want to go home.’

‘London?’

‘No. Rivendell.’

‘Was your father a Lord of the Rings fan?’

‘Do you know, I think he was a bit of a hippy back in the day, before he got bitten by the money bug. He still listens to Pink Floyd and King Crimson.’

Not unlike Banks and Ray, Annie thought. They stood up and walked towards the car. ‘What are your plans now?’ Annie asked.

Poppy shook her head. ‘Not a clue. I suppose I might as well hang about up here until... well, you know... the funeral and all that.’

‘It could be some time until the funeral, depending on what we uncover.’

‘I told you, I don’t fucking know.’

They went out and got in the car. Annie started it up.

Poppy stretched herself out in the passenger seat and yawned. ‘No doubt my arsehole brother will be arriving this evening. I’m not sure I could stand being in the same house as him for very long, so maybe I’ll just go back down south, anyway. Why? Am I not supposed to leave town?’

‘Just stay in touch, that’s all,’ said Annie. ‘There may be developments very soon, and I may have to talk to you again.’

‘Yeah. Sure. Fine.’ Poppy dug around in her bag and found a pair of sunglasses. She put them on, rested her head back on the car seat and feigned sleep. Annie tapped her fingers on the wheel as she drove, wondering how she could break it gently to Poppy that she couldn’t return to Rivendell to spend the night now that they knew the suspicious death was that of her father. That the house was a crime scene, at least technically. Even letting her inside to repack her bag under supervision was pushing it at this point, but Annie reckoned she could balance that against showing consideration for the victim’s daughter and give her a few minutes to pick up her pills and tampons.

The girl behind the bar pointed out Colin Fairfax, who sat alone hunched over a laptop at a booth in the student pub, a pint beside him. It was a dim, cavernous place, full of little nooks and alcoves, along with open areas with large tables, all done in dark wood. The music wasn’t too loud to prohibit conversation. Banks thought it was Vampire Weekend, but he couldn’t be certain; he didn’t know their music well enough.

He edged into the booth next to Fairfax, showing his warrant card, and Winsome took a chair opposite them. Fairfax glanced from one to the other and closed his laptop.

‘Adrienne?’ he said.

Banks nodded, then glanced at his glass. ‘Can I buy you another drink?’

Fairfax shrugged. ‘Why not?’

Banks went back to the bar.

‘Man, this really does my head in,’ Fairfax said when Banks put the pint down in front of him.

‘In what way?’ Winsome asked.

‘Adrienne. I loved her.’

‘But she didn’t love you?’

‘I guess not. I don’t know where her mind was these days. I don’t even know if she cared for me or not. She just wasn’t herself at all.’

Winsome took out her notebook and made a few jottings.

‘Let’s start at the beginning,’ Banks said.

Fairfax was a skinny youth in jeans and a T-shirt, with a wispy goatee beard, a few spots and spiky fair hair. Nothing to write home about, Banks thought. But there was no accounting for taste. Everyone had said he was a decent kid.

‘The beginning?’

‘When you and Adrienne first met.’

‘It was at a party early in our first year. November, I think. Just over a year ago. She was a wall-hugger. You know, just leaned back against the wall with her drink in her hand watching everyone. She found it hard to approach people. Shy. So I went over to her and we hit it off right away. After that we went out together all year and part of the summer.’

‘Only part?’

‘We both had to work to save up. I was at home in Doncaster working nights at a frozen food factory. Adrienne was back living with her parents in Stockton and working at the animal shelter in Darlington. It was hard for either of us to get time off, so we didn’t see a lot of each other during the summer. I went up once, for her birthday. I’d bought her a charm for her bracelet. Cost me an arm and a leg, but I knew she liked them. I didn’t want to just put it in the post, you know. I wanted to see her open it. See the expression on her face. So I took the train up.’

‘And?’

He smiled wistfully. ‘It was worth it.’

‘And after that?’

‘We went to Glasto and the Green Man festival. It rained all the time, but we didn’t care.’

‘And since then?’

‘We went out a couple of times right at the beginning of the year, but she seemed a bit cool. I’d ask her what was wrong, but she wouldn’t say. A few days later she told me it had been fun, but she couldn’t see me any more.’

‘Colin,’ Banks said, ‘I want you to think carefully about this. Did you get the impression that something might have happened to Adrienne over the summer to cause her to become deeply upset or depressed?’

‘Like what?’

‘Some traumatic event. Was she assaulted, robbed, raped?’

‘No!’

‘How do you know? It might have been something she didn’t want anyone to know about, something she hid away, buried deep.’

‘If you put it like that, I suppose anything’s possible, but if there was something like that, I had absolutely no sense of it. I mean, things weren’t that different. She wasn’t that different. She just dumped me, that’s all.’

‘How did you feel about that?’

‘How do you think I felt? Devastated. I was gutted.’

‘What reason did she give?’

A group of laughing students came in and took a table some distance away.

Fairfax remained quiet for a few moments until the hubbub died down. He was soft spoken, Banks noticed. ‘She didn’t. She just said that she wanted to concentrate on her work. I suggested we maybe just see less of each other, but she said that wouldn’t work and it would be easier in the long run to stop altogether. I asked her if there was someone else, but she assured me there wasn’t.’

‘Did you believe her?’

‘Not at first, but later, I think I did. I mean, if I saw her at all, she was with the usual crowd. Neela, Cameron, Chloe and the rest. Never just with one special guy or anything.’ He paused for a moment.

‘Thought of something?’ Banks prompted him.

‘There was this girl. Mia. That was right at the beginning of term, when things were starting to go wonky with me and Adrienne. I must admit, I was a bit worried there for a while.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘They were hanging out together so much. I mean, it wasn’t that I thought Adrienne was gay or anything, not that there would be anything wrong with that, but it just gave me a funny feeling, like it was some club I couldn’t join. They seemed really intense. They always made me feel left out.’

‘I assume,’ Banks said, ‘that you were being politically correct just then, and there would be something very much wrong with Adrienne being gay if you were in love with her?’

‘Well, yeah, but you know what I mean. She wasn’t. OK?’

‘So what about Mia?’

‘I just got a bad vibe from her, that’s all. She didn’t like me, and Adrienne behaved different when she was with her, as if I was, like, on the outside and they had some little private thing going. I was worried she was having some sort of adverse influence on Adrienne.’

‘How? What for?’

‘I don’t know. Like manipulating her or something. Adrienne was easily led, that’s all. I suppose Mia was sort of charismatic.’

‘Where did you think she was leading Adrienne?’

‘I don’t know. Nowhere. There wasn’t anything in particular. It was just a feeling. It was my imagination, my jealousy, my fears. Haven’t you ever had anything like that happen, man, when you imagine all kinds of awful things happening to someone you love? It really distorts your vision.’

Banks knew what he meant. He remembered nights sitting up staring out of the window if his girlfriend was late coming home, imagining all kinds of terrible things that might have happened to her, from falling into the hands of a serial killer to sleeping with another man, though admittedly, the second of these would have been far more terrible for him than for her. He assumed it was a pretty normal form of insecurity. ‘How long did this go on?’ he asked.

‘Dunno. Couple of weeks, maybe, into October. Then Mia just seemed to disappear from the scene. Adrienne told me she’d dropped out. No explanation. Nobody even knew what department she was in.’

‘How was Adrienne after Mia left?’

‘She was fine at first. I mean, that was when I knew, you know, that there was nothing in it, my fears and so on, that it wasn’t a lesbian thing. Adrienne wasn’t upset or heartbroken or anything. Maybe just a bit more distant. I saw less and less of her. But that was happening anyway. She seemed to be a bit weird. I don’t know. Just not her usual self.’

‘Do you think they could still have been seeing one another?’

‘No. I don’t think so. I mean, I never saw hide nor hair of Mia again.’

‘What if Adrienne wanted to keep their meetings secret?’

‘I suppose she could have been doing that if she wanted, but why?’

‘Did you ever suspect that drugs were an issue with Adrienne and Mia?’

‘Not at first. Adrienne was so anti-drug. But I must admit it crossed my mind later, when she seemed a bit out of it sometimes.’

‘Out of it?’

‘You know, not really following conversations, not responding to texts or emails, as if her mind was always somewhere else.’

‘Any idea where that might have been?’

Fairfax shook his head. ‘Sorry, no. I still find it really hard to believe it was drugs, but... well... it’s an obvious option, isn’t it? People change.’

Vampire Weekend, or whoever it was, gave way to The Killers.

‘Colin,’ said Winsome, ‘we’ve been investigating Adrienne’s mobile use, and it seems you called her quite often.’

‘Yeah. So what?’

‘Well, you’d split up. Why were you still pestering her?’

‘Who says I was pestering her?’

‘There’s quite a lot of calls. Were you stalking her, Colin?’

‘No way. She liked me to call. If you check it out you’ll see she called me sometimes, too. It wasn’t all one way. She still liked to talk about stuff we had in common, like movies and music and stuff. And environmental issues, anti-fracking demos and so on. We were both interested in politics, Jez and all that. Hope for the future, for the many, that was something we still shared.’

‘Jez?’ said Banks.

‘You know. Jeremy. Jeremy Corbyn.’

‘Oh, Jeremy Corbyn. Yes, I know who you mean. I just don’t understand the link.’

‘You wouldn’t understand. You’re too old. Adrienne and I were both members of the Marxist Society. We talked about politics a lot. How to change the world. Get rid of inequality and starvation and all the other evils.’

Maybe Banks was too old for Jeremy Corbyn. He had believed in all the man’s policies when he was sixteen, but that belief had faded by the time he reached thirty. Though he still considered himself to be part of the liberal left, perhaps he had become more cynical over the years, more conservative, even. As far as Corbyn himself was concerned, Banks detected a whiff of the demagogue, the steely glint of Stalinism in his eye, and he didn’t like that at all. Not that any of the alternatives seemed much more acceptable.

‘And how did this make you feel, this telephone relationship?’ he asked.

‘I enjoyed it. I mean, it wasn’t as good as being with her, but I suppose I felt there was always a chance, like, as long as we were still communicating, still on the same wavelength, that we might get back together as long as we stayed friends and had lots in common. That whatever it was that was bothering her would go away and she’d see the light. But they made me sad, too, the phone calls. Like, I always felt really lonely and a bit down after our conversations.’

‘But you were happy to remain just friends?’ Winsome asked.

‘Yeah. We talked. It’s just that I didn’t see her so often, and I felt like a bit of an afterthought. Why are you asking me all these questions? First the papers implied it was a drug overdose, then they said it was suicide. I have to say, I can’t imagine her doing that. She was such an alive, positive person most of the time. I just can’t see her killing herself. But you know more about the circumstances than I do, and you’ve no reason to lie about it. So why? Tell me. Why did she do it?’

‘We don’t know,’ Winsome said. ‘That’s why we’re talking to her friends, to try and make sense out of all this.’

‘Well, I’m sorry but I can’t help you. I would if I could, honest.’ Fairfax paused again for a moment. ‘Is there a chance that she didn’t take her own life, like it was an accident, or somebody did it to her?’

‘Do you know of anyone who might have done something like that to her?’

‘No. But there could be another explanation, couldn’t there? Other than suicide, I mean.’

‘There could be,’ Banks conceded. ‘When did you last talk to her?’

‘If you have her mobile you’ll know. It was last week. Wednesday or Thursday. She called me.’

‘Did she sound any different from usual?’

‘No.’

‘What did you talk about? It was a short conversation.’

‘We were supposed to go to a demo on the weekend. She rang to tell me she couldn’t make it.’

‘Did she say why?’

‘No.’

‘How did she sound.’

‘Same as usual.’

‘Does POLICE AWARE mean anything to you?’

‘It’s that yellow sign you stick in broken-down cars when you leave them on country roads, isn’t?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Then I don’t understand the question. What else should it mean? Why should it mean anything other than what it says?’

‘That’s what I’m asking you. Does it mean anything else? Does it have any special significance for you? Or for Adrienne?’

‘Well, no, I guess. I can’t say as I’ve ever thought about it, and Adrienne certainly never mentioned it. Why?’

‘Have you ever had a prescription for sleeping pills?’

‘You must be joking.’

‘Not at all.’

‘Then, no. I’ve never had any trouble sleeping. And I don’t like taking pills, not even paracetamol. Before you even go there, I don’t do drugs.’

‘Nobody says you do, Colin.’

‘But it always comes up, doesn’t it? Student. Ergo, must be drugs somewhere.’

‘Are there?’

‘No.’

‘What about E?’

‘Never tried it.’

‘Adrienne took it at The Cellar Club with her friends.’

‘Maybe she did. But I wasn’t a part of that crowd. And I don’t like The Cellar Club.’

‘Does it surprise you that Adrienne took drugs?’ Winsome asked.

‘Maybe she did E occasionally with her mates. But she wasn’t a druggie.’

‘Let’s just go back to this Mia for a minute,’ Banks said. ‘Can you tell us what she looked like?’

‘Mia? She was about the same height as Adrienne, around five six, very attractive, with an olive complexion and brown eyes. It was weird, though. I mean, you could tell she had a great figure, but she dressed it down, if you know what I mean. Dressed to cover it up. I never saw her in a skirt or a dress or anything, just jeans and baggy sweatshirts and stuff. And her hair was messy, like she didn’t bother with it much.’

‘Long or short?’

‘Medium really.’ He touched his shoulders. ‘Reddish brown and sort of wavy.’

‘You say she had an olive complexion. Was she Asian, or black?

‘Neither. Not that dark. Just sort of Mediterranean, you know? Or South American. But she wasn’t foreign. I mean, she was English. I think she came from somewhere down south. Winchester, if I remember right. Somewhere with a cathedral, anyway.’

That really helped a lot, Banks thought. ‘How old was she?’

‘About my age, I’d guess. Twenty or so.’

‘So you did talk to her?’

‘Once or twice. She just wasn’t very friendly towards me. Not forthcoming. A bit monosyllabic.’

‘And you’ve no idea what became of her?’

‘None at all. It was like she just disappeared into thin air.’

Winsome put her notebook away and she and Banks stood up.

‘Thanks for your time, Colin,’ said Banks. ‘We’re sorry about Adrienne, but believe me, we’re doing our best to find out what happened to her. Here’s my card. If you think of anything that might be relevant, however minor it may seem, please let us know.’

Colin took the card. ‘Thanks, man,’ he said. ‘Yeah, I will.’