Children of the Revolution

Chapter 7

‘So what happened to you yesterday afternoon?’ Annie asked Banks on their way to see Trevor Lomax. ‘I tried to call you.’

‘I was out at the crime scene. No reception,’ Banks said. ‘You didn’t call back or leave a message, so it can’t have been important.’

‘It wasn’t. And there is reception at the crime scene, at least at the top of the embankment. I assumed you weren’t answering because you didn’t want to talk about it.’

‘Talk about what?’

‘What happened with Red Ron and Madame Gervaise.’

‘Oh, that. What do you think happened? They warned us off.’

‘Off Lady Chalmers?’

Banks looked around with mock concern. ‘Who else has a title around here?’

Annie squinted at him from the passenger seat. ‘So they gave you a bollocking?’

‘It wasn’t a bollocking.’

‘Whatever. You were off sulking, weren’t you? Drinking and listening to some weird music, I’ll bet. Licking your wounds.’

‘You’ve got imagination, I’ll give you that.’

‘Well? Tell me I’m wrong.’

‘Here we are.’ Banks pulled up behind the college building. ‘Sure he’s in?’

‘Sure as I can be,’ said Annie. ‘I checked with the department. He doesn’t have any classes on a Friday morning. He might be seeing a student or working on Monday’s lecture, but he’s usually in his office.’

‘Right. Lead on.’

Annie led Banks into the squat concrete and glass building and up the stairs to Trevor Lomax’s office. The door was slightly ajar, and they heard voices from inside. Banks tapped softly and pushed the door open. Lomax was sitting at his cluttered desk; a girl sat opposite him with a clipboard resting on her lap.

‘Who the hell are... Oh, Ms Cabbot?’ he said, smiling when he saw Annie.

‘We’re sorry to bother you, Trevor,’ Annie said. ‘This is my boss, DCI Banks. We’d like a quick word, if possible.’

‘I was just—’

‘We’re very busy,’ said Banks. Then he looked at the puzzled girl, bowed and gestured with his arm towards the open door. ‘If you don’t mind.’

Flustered, she gathered up her things and left without a backward glance.

‘Was that really necessary?’ Lomax asked.

‘Like I said, we’re busy.’ Banks proffered the empty chair to Annie and leaned against the wall beside the window.

‘Cast your mind back four years ago,’ Annie said. ‘Several weeks after Gavin Miller’s hearing and dismissal.’

‘I don’t—’

‘Did a young woman pay you a visit and tell you she had evidence that Miller didn’t do what he was accused of?’

‘Why should anyone—’

‘Cut the bullshit, Mr Lomax,’ said Banks. ‘We know the whole story. It’s just a technique we use. You know, feeding it out bit by bit as questions, see if you slip up anywhere. We don’t ask questions to which we don’t already know the answer. With you, I think we can just cut to the chase, can’t we?’

‘Your boss is a bit full of himself, isn’t he, Ms Cabbot,’ said Lomax, smiling at Annie.

Annie didn’t return his smile. ‘You might as well tell us the truth, Trevor. When he gets like this he’s unpredictable, not to mention impossible to call off.’

‘Are you threatening me?’

‘Not at all. I’ll jog your memory a bit, see if it helps. Lisa Gray. Remember that name?’

‘I remember a young woman coming to me with some cock-and-bull story.’

‘Now we’re getting somewhere,’ said Annie. ‘How do you know it was a cock-and-bull story?’

‘The board had made its decision, implemented it. It was over and done with. If anyone had any information, they should have come forward earlier, before or during the hearing. They had every chance.’

‘But Lisa Gray didn’t know about it during the hearing,’ said Annie. ‘She only found out afterwards. Don’t you remember what she told you? She overheard a conversation between Beth Gallagher and Kayleigh Vernon in the ladies’ and came to tell you about it. She also told you about Gavin Miller warning Kyle McClusky off selling drugs on campus, and that was the reason Beth and Kayleigh ganged up to discredit him. The three of them were mates. Surely you remember that?’

‘So she said. But it was nothing but hearsay. Pure invention. There was no proof.’

‘And there was proof of Miller’s guilt in the first place?’ Annie shook her head. ‘Did you question the girls again after you received this new information, ask them if it was true?’

‘No. As I said, there would have been no point. I’d done everything I could for Gavin. The hearing was over; the decision had been made. The girls had already been through enough. Why put them through the trauma all over again?’

‘Gee, Trevor, I don’t know,’ said Annie. ‘Because a man’s reputation and livelihood were at stake? A friend of yours.’

‘And if Beth and Kayleigh had been lying,’ Banks said, ‘as Lisa Gray claimed they were, then surely it was your duty to investigate that and find out?’

‘You mistake my job for your own, Mr Banks. It wasn’t my duty to do anything of the kind. It was over and done with. I’d already done my best to stick up for Gavin, but to no avail.’

‘What was it your duty to do?’ Annie asked. ‘Brush it under the carpet?’

‘I resent that. Gavin Miller was a friend of mine.’

Banks scratched his head. ‘That’s what puzzles me. He was supposed to be your mate. I’d love to know how you treat your enemies.’

‘That was uncalled for.’

‘Was it?’ Banks moved away from the wall, leaned forward and rested his palms on the desk. ‘A girl comes to you and tells you she overheard two girls who’ve accused a fellow employee, a friend of yours, of sexual misconduct, having a giggle about how they pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes, including yours, and you do nothing. I have to ask myself why.’

Lomax leaned back in his chair. ‘And what brilliant conclusion do you come to?’

‘There are a number of possibilities,’ Banks said slowly. ‘The first one that comes to mind is that Kyle McClusky also supplied you with drugs. Perhaps you bought some roofies from him and had your way with some leggy eighteen-year-old student. Or maybe you scored a bit of speed so you could stay up all night marking essays. Maybe you were shagging Beth or Kayleigh. Obviously, Kyle knew about this, and if he went down he would make sure as hell you went with him, so it was in your best interests to keep him out of the whole affair. Gavin Miller didn’t know Kyle was a pal of Beth and Kayleigh’s. As far as he was concerned, there was no connection between his warning Kyle off selling drugs, which had taken place some time before, and the accusations the girls made of sexual misconduct. But you knew, didn’t you? And as only you and the Gray girl knew that she’d been to see you — or so you thought — it was a simple matter of sitting on it.’

‘That’s absurd. You’re accusing me of buying drugs from Kyle McClusky and having sex with a student? This is bordering on slander. Maybe I should call my solicitor.’

‘I didn’t hear him say anything about sex and drugs,’ said Annie.

‘I’m simply suggesting it as a possibility,’ Banks went on, ‘a reason why you didn’t do anything with the information Lisa Gray brought to you.’

‘I told you. It was too late. The decision had already been made. It would have done no good to... to...’

‘To what? Rake it all up again and risk the publicity? Wouldn’t be good for who? For you? For the college?’

‘Of course it wouldn’t have been good for the college. What’s wrong with that? Don’t you lot all close ranks and pull together when someone attacks one of you?’ He glanced sharply at Annie. ‘Didn’t you do exactly that just now?’

‘You’re comparing what you did to us closing ranks?’ Banks leaned back against the wall again. ‘Now I’ve heard it all. Annie, I’ve had enough. Perhaps you can take it from here?’

‘What DCI Banks means is that the information was entrusted to you, a friend of the accused, by perhaps the only other person around here who seemed to give a damn what happened to him.’

‘But nobody would have listened to her,’ said Lomax. ‘To Lisa Gray. I wanted to avoid getting personal about it, but she was neurotic, a delusional, drunken trollop. She started out as an outstanding student, but she was failing her courses and going downhill fast in every way.’

‘What was wrong with her? Why did she change?’

Lomax shrugged. ‘It happens. She was probably on drugs.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘It’s true. The girl was on the verge of expulsion herself. She was behind in her work, she’d been abusive to members of staff, she’d missed more than half of her classes and attended at least one of them while intoxicated. Imagine how well it would have gone down if we had publicised an exoneration of Miller by such a person. Not that I’m saying it was an exoneration. All Beth and Kayleigh would have had to do was stick to their guns.’

‘Beth Gallagher admitted to us that she fabricated her story.’

Lomax swallowed. ‘She did? When?’

‘Yesterday,’ said Annie.

‘And you believe her?’

‘My DS believes her,’ Banks said. ‘And that’s good enough for me.’

Lomax spread his hands. ‘Well, what can I say? If she’d admitted that at the time, maybe I could have done something, but it was too little, too late.’

‘Couldn’t you somehow have reinstated Gavin Miller after you found out the truth?’ Annie asked.

‘What truth? Lisa Gray’s say-so? Weeks after he’d been dismissed? I can’t imagine any precedent for that sort of action. Can you? Who’d believe her? Don’t forget, it’s ultimately down to the government. They provide our money. We’re not a private institution, you know. Besides, I thought you were investigating Gavin’s murder, not his dismissal.’

‘Oh, we are,’ said Annie. She glanced towards Banks, who gave her a nod. ‘We just think they might be connected. How many people did you tell about Lisa’s story?’

‘What do you mean? Nobody. Why?’

‘Not Jim Cooper, or anyone else on the board or the committee?’

‘No. Why would I? Jim Cooper wasn’t on the committee. Besides, I don’t particularly like him, to be honest, and the board... well, it wasn’t their concern.’

‘Did you tell your wife?’

‘Sally and I share everything. It was she who advised me that it would be foolish to go to the board with the girl’s story, that I’d be laughed off campus.’

‘Might your wife have told someone else? Dayle Snider, perhaps?’

‘I very much doubt it. Besides, Dayle and Gavin weren’t together then.’

‘What about Kyle McClusky dealing drugs on campus?’

‘We didn’t know about that, either, if he was. And he’d gone by then.’

‘Thanks to Gavin Miller warning him off.’

‘Yes, well... as I said, we didn’t know about that. Gavin didn’t see fit to tell us. What Gavin did was tantamount to a tip-off more than anything else.’

‘Does Jim Cooper use drugs? Did he buy from Kyle?’

‘How on earth would I know? It wouldn’t surprise me, the way he goes about trying to be so hip and cool all the time, but really I have no idea.’

‘Imagine this, Trevor,’ said Annie. ‘You reminded me that we’re investigating the murder, not the dismissal. Well, consider this scenario. Somehow, four years after the events that lost him his job, Gavin Miller finds out that Lisa Gray came to you with information that might have exonerated him, and that you did nothing. Maybe she told him, or maybe he found out some other way. It doesn’t matter. He confronts you about this. He’s broke, and he wants money, compensation, perhaps, so he blackmails you. If you don’t pay, he’ll denounce you to the college authorities for some indiscretion or other that he knows about. You arrange to meet at the old railway bridge south of Coverton. It’s a nice, secluded spot. Something goes wrong. Maybe he decides he’d rather have a public apology and get his old job back. Whatever. You struggle and end up pushing him over the bridge. Maybe it’s an accident. Maybe you didn’t mean to kill him. Or maybe you couldn’t afford to pay a blackmailer, so you went there intending to kill him. What kind of car do you drive?’

‘This is outrageous!’

‘What kind?’

‘An Audi.’

‘What colour.’

‘Black.’

‘Someone saw you getting into your car around ten o’clock last Sunday night in Coverton car park. How does that sound, Trevor?’

‘Preposterous,’ said Lomax. ‘You’ll never convince anyone of that.’

‘Oh, we might,’ said Annie. ‘And it might just be true, mightn’t it?

‘I already told you. I was at home with my wife.’

‘Watching Downton Abbey. Yes, we know. But alibis can be very fragile things, Trevor. In our experience, wives especially don’t make very convincing alibis.’

Annie stood up and walked towards the door. Banks followed, while Lomax remained at his desk, red-faced and spluttering.

‘Cooper next?’ Banks asked when they got down the stairs.

‘I suppose so,’ sighed Annie. ‘But I’ve had enough of this place for the moment. Lunch first?’

‘Good—’ Banks’s mobile went off. He stopped on the stairs and listened for a while, as Annie waited impatiently.

‘Who was it?’ she asked, when he’d finished.

‘Doug Watson.’

‘And?’

‘He’s located Kyle McClusky. Seems he’s a guest in HM Prison Leeds.’

‘Mr Cooper,’ called Annie. ‘I’m so glad I caught you before you left for the weekend.’ She was crossing the grassy square when she saw Cooper leaving his department with his battered briefcase in his hand and a silk scarf wrapped artistically around his neck, longish hair hanging over at the back. He looked exactly as Lomax had described him, someone pathetically trying to appear younger and more hip than he really was. He probably liked to hang out in the student bar, too, Annie thought, pretend he was one of them, and maybe, just maybe, to appear extra cool, he might like to score some coke or speed once in a while, or smoke a joint.

Banks had gone back to the station after lunch to follow up on the call they’d got about Kyle McClusky, so Annie was on her own for this one. She didn’t mind. It would be a pleasure to puncture Cooper’s sense of self-importance and arrogance.

‘I like to get away early on a Friday,’ said Cooper as Annie fell into step beside him. ‘I don’t have any classes in the afternoon, so I usually manage to get the paperwork done and slip away before three. What is it this time?’

‘Oh, you know. Just a few more questions.’

‘I thought I’d already answered all your questions.’

‘We keep coming up with new ones. It’s the funny thing about this job. One piece of new information comes in, and it changes the whole picture.’

‘And this time?’

‘Well, perhaps there’s somewhere we could have a quick chat?’

‘Would my car do?’ Cooper pointed his key ring at a red Toyota, and it beeped as the door locks opened. Annie didn’t particularly fancy the idea of being enclosed in a car with Cooper, but it was a bit nippy outside, and what could happen, anyway? She was sure she could still take care of herself, despite the odd aches and pains she still suffered since the shooting. Besides, she didn’t think he had the bottle to try anything.

Once they had got seated, the heater on, Annie half turned to face him and said, ‘It’s about the Gavin Miller case.’

‘I thought so. Still not caught your man?’

‘Or woman.’

‘Oh, yes. Mustn’t forget. Equal opportunity murders these days. Well, how can I help you this time?’

‘That’s assuming you helped us last time.’

‘Didn’t I? I’m mortified. Well, I must try to do better, mustn’t I? Ask away.’ The faint mocking smile never left his face. It was the kind of smile that made Annie want to slap it off. Hard. ‘What is this new piece of information? You have me intrigued.’

‘We think that Gavin Miller’s murder may be linked to the events of four years ago.’

‘That’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?’

‘It was very traumatic for him. He lost his job, his living, his self-respect. It was the start of a long downward spiral.’

‘You don’t have to tell me what it did to him. I was there, listening, lending a shoulder, not to mention a tenner or two.’

‘But it wasn’t enough, was it?’

‘Nothing ever is. I couldn’t turn back the clock.’

‘He wanted more money, didn’t he?’

‘Don’t we all?’

‘Don’t try to be clever. You know what I’m talking about. Gavin Miller was desperate for a change in his fortunes. Desperate enough to take things in his own hands and seek it. By blackmail, perhaps?’

‘Gavin? You obviously didn’t know him. Never. He might have been a bit of an oddball, but he wasn’t a crook. Gavin was a gentle soul, angry and bitter though he was. He would no more have blackmailed someone than he would have hurt them.’

‘People change,’ said Annie. ‘Sometimes circumstances drive them to it. What do you think of Trevor Lomax?’

‘Lomax. He’s a competent enough department head, but there’s not a great deal of energy or sense of innovation about him. He’s about as exciting as a wet Sunday in November.’

‘Shortly after Gavin Miller was fired, a student overheard Beth and Kayleigh boasting in the ladies’ about how they’d pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes about Miller. What do you think about that?’

‘First I’ve heard of it. Did she tell anyone?’

‘Trevor Lomax.’

‘And?’

‘That’s as far as it went.’

‘The bastard.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Well, it could have helped Gavin, couldn’t it? Lomax was also supposed to be his friend. I didn’t know anything about this.’

‘Trevor Lomax said it was too late, and he didn’t believe the source.’

‘Who was it?’

‘I can’t tell you that.’

‘Then I can’t really help you. Why didn’t Gavin tell me about it, or make a fuss himself at the time?’

‘He never knew about it.’

‘Trevor didn’t tell him?’

‘No. He thought it would only upset him more, as it clearly wasn’t going to go towards getting him his job back.’

‘It all sounds like a bit of a mess, doesn’t it?’

‘It does. I think a lot of the people involved were going through hard times. Drugs were involved, and we still think they may be involved with Gavin Miller’s death. Did you know anyone called Kyle McClusky?’

‘Kyle McClusky? The name is vaguely familiar. Is he a student?’

‘Was. He hung around with Beth and Kayleigh. Gavin Miller warned him off selling drugs around campus, and he dropped out. He blamed Gavin for all his woes.’

‘That’s right. Gavin did mention someone called Kyle dealing drugs. One of his students. I suggested he have a quiet word, and maybe he’d disappear before we had to bring in the authorities. Is that what happened?’

‘Yes.’

‘But? I can see a “but” coming.’

‘But he enlisted Beth and Kayleigh to help him get his revenge. They thought it sounded like fun.’

‘So that’s why they...?’

‘Yes. There’s no evidence either way, of course, but there never was in the first place.’

‘But this means that Gavin was telling the truth, doesn’t it? That he didn’t do it.’ Cooper surprised Annie by putting his face in his hands and sighing deeply. ‘My God, poor Gavin. I’m so sorry. I should have done more.’

‘You really didn’t know about any of this?’

‘No. On my word. Do you think I would ever have advised him just to give that dealer a warning if I’d known how it would all turn out? I’d have said to bring in the police right away.’

‘Life is full of what ifs,’ said Annie. ‘There’s no point dwelling on them. You never bought any drugs from Kyle McClusky?’

‘I didn’t even know him. And me? Drugs? What do you take me for?’

Despite herself, Annie actually found herself inclined to believe him. ‘You didn’t know it was a set-up. Gavin didn’t know. As far as we can gather, apart from the girls themselves, and Kyle, of course, the only people who knew were Trevor Lomax and the person who told him.’

‘And this person who told Lomax was the one who overheard Beth and Kayleigh talking about what they’d done?’

‘Yes. Three weeks or so after Gavin Miller was fired.’

‘God, this is awful. But why would they be talking about it so long afterwards?’

‘I have no idea. That’s a good point.’

‘Neither Lomax nor his informant told anyone else?’

‘Lomax told his wife. That’s all. Lomax said it was too late, and that the source was untrustworthy.’

‘But he didn’t even try.’ Cooper shook his head slowly. His earring dangled. ‘That’s Lomax all over. Why shake things up when everything’s running on an even keel? The bastard. I’ll bet that wife of his helped him make up his mind. The Snider woman, too, I wouldn’t be surprised.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘It’s obvious, isn’t it. Sally Lomax only thought about her husband’s career, and Dayle Snider had history with Gav. Bad history.’

‘Point taken. Look, I’m sorry this all came as such a shock to you,’ Annie said. She handed him her card. ‘But if you do think of anything that might help us, you’ll let me know, won’t you?’

Cooper held her gaze with his and nodded. His eyes were damp. ‘I will,’ he said. ‘I certainly will.’

After making arrangements to go to Armley Jail, as HM Prison Leeds was commonly known, to talk to Kyle McClusky on Monday, Banks had picked up the disk of scanned photos from the lab towards the end of Friday afternoon and got Gerry Masterson to print them off for him. She and Winsome had just got back from talking to Kayleigh Vernon in Salford, and they had found out nothing. Unlike Beth, Kayleigh still vehemently denied making up her accusations against Gavin Miller, said she had nothing to do with drugs and had not been in touch with anyone from the old college days in years. She said she had been working at the time of Miller’s murder, and her alibi checked out, as had Beth’s. Winsome had also taken a little time to check up on Lisa Gray’s alibi, and that checked out, too, providing that her friends were telling the truth, which was always a caveat in such matters. If they found any other evidence pointing to Lisa, they’d bring in the friends and give them a more comprehensive grilling. For the moment, though, it appeared that Beth, Kayleigh and Lisa Gray could be ruled out as suspects based on their alibis.

Now he sat in his conservatory, sipping red wine, listening to Van Morrison’s St Dominic’s Preview and examining the photos for the second time. It was the weekend, and the investigation would scale down a bit over the next couple of days. Not so much for Banks, or for Gerry Masterson, but for the rest of the team. The rain had stopped, and the weather seemed to have settled down to a sort of dull uniform grey, with occasional periods of drizzle. The remains of the pizza he had picked up on his way home still sat on the glass-topped table.

After separating out the pure landscapes and cityscapes, Banks pored over the group shots, some of which clearly featured a younger Miller, without beard and with a thicker head of fair hair, still worn long, fuller in the face. He had already asked Gerry to crop and print enhanced versions showing Miller alone, then to make several copies and distribute them among the team. Though the photographs had been taken in the late eighties, by the looks of them, outside a college of some description, they might come in useful when Gerry was trying to refresh people’s memories about Essex in the early seventies. Certainly no one from back then would recognise Gavin Miller from the more recent photograph.

The earliest photographs had clearly been taken at the Isle of Wight pop festival in 1970. Some of them showed the stage below, to the left, and the vast crowd stretching as far as the lens could see. It was impossible to make out who was playing, of course, but Banks recognised that the photos had been taken from the tent city that sprang up on ‘Desolation Hill’, where he had spent part of the festival with his girlfriend of the time, Kay Summerville. The rest of the time at the Isle of Wight they had been in the thick of the crowd, closer to the stage. The Who, the Doors, Miles Davis, Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, Jimi Hendrix. They hadn’t slept for three nights. After the festival, they had pitched their tent on a clifftop near Ventnor for a few days and done nothing but make love, stare out to sea and go to the pub.

The early seventies had been Banks’s own brief period of freedom between school and the police, then marriage and children. He sometimes regretted that he hadn’t simply flown the coop and gone on the road for a while after his time at London Polytechnic. It wasn’t so much that he regretted what he had done with his life, but he sometimes regretted what he hadn’t done. Sometimes it seemed that one life wasn’t enough. He wanted to live parallel lives. Do it all. The brief taste of freedom he had enjoyed in the Powys Terrace flat hadn’t amounted to a great deal, but it had been a lot of fun. He’d had no interest in drugs, but he went to a lot of gigs and met plenty of girls. He remembered the excitement of the music. Some of Banks’s favourite albums were from this period: Van Morrison’s Moondance, The Who Live at Leeds, Neil Young’s After the Gold Rush. Then came the new crowd, with Bowie, Roxy Music, King Crimson and T. Rex leading the way. Heady times, indeed.

It was almost 10.30 when his mobile rang. Thinking it might be Brian on the road, he answered quickly. At first he heard only a faint voice on the other end, sounding more like a whisper.

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Can you speak up a bit? I can’t hear you very well.’ Perhaps the music was a bit too loud, but Banks didn’t want to go to the entertainment room and turn it down.

‘It’s me, Ronnie,’ the voice said.

‘Ronnie?’ For a moment, Banks was puzzled. He didn’t know any Ronnies. Then it dawned on him. ‘Lady Chalmers?’

‘Please. Just Ronnie. Forget about the lady.’

But that was as difficult as before; her voice was still posh, even though she sounded the slightest bit tipsy. ‘Where are you?’ he asked.

‘In London. In a hotel. Jem’s out with his luvvie pals at the Ivy, no doubt downing cognac and telling stories about Larry and Dickie. I’m watching TV and having a little drink, myself. Drinking alone. Isn’t that terrible of me?’

Banks looked at the glass in his hand. ‘Why didn’t you go with him?’

‘Those evenings bore me. Besides, I’m not feeling very sociable tonight.’

‘You shouldn’t be calling,’ Banks said. ‘I’m not supposed to be talking to you.’

‘Is that Van Morrison I can hear in the background. “Listen to the Lion”?’

‘Yes,’ said Banks.

There was a pause. ‘I love Van Morrison. That was always one of my favourites, Saint Dominic’s Preview. And Veedon Fleece. I always wondered what a veedon fleece was, didn’t you?’

‘Why are you calling me, Lady Chalmers? Has something happened I should know about?’

‘I told you, it’s Ronnie. No, nothing’s happened. I’m just calling to apologise. I feel bad about it.’

‘For what?’

‘Did you get into trouble? You did, didn’t you?’

‘When?’

‘After you came to see me with your colleague. Annie, isn’t it? When Ralph and Tony were there.’

Banks was still smarting from the unpleasant half-hour he had spent with Red Ron and Madame Gervaise. ‘Maybe a little,’ he said. ‘Probably no more than I deserved. It’s not your fault.’

‘But I feel responsible. You didn’t deserve it. I mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for anything like that to happen.’

‘You don’t have to apologise to me. If you think I was out of line—’

‘No. It’s not that. It wasn’t me.’

‘What do you mean?’

The silence on the other end lasted just long enough to make him think Lady Chalmers had fallen asleep or dropped the phone on the bed, but then she came back on the line again. Van Morrison was still singing about the lion inside him. Banks was wondering where she had got his number, but remembered he had given her his card. ‘It was Tony,’ she said. ‘My brother-in-law. Jem was away, so I rang Tony and told him you’d been to talk to me and were coming back again. I told him I needed some support. Tony drove straight up from Derbyshire and said it would be a good idea to have our solicitor there, too. After you’d left the second time, Tony rang your chief constable and reported the conversation. I just want to say that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for all that to happen. I’m not really that sort of person. You were only doing your job. But I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t know why you’re picking on me. Is there some reason you don’t like me?’

‘I’m not picking on you, and I don’t dislike you. And I appreciate the apology, but there’s really no need for it. These things happen.’

‘Especially when you’re still a little bit of a rebel? I know. But even so... I don’t tell tales out of school. I just wanted you to know that. I just wanted someone on my side, that’s all. I’m not a tattle-tittle.’

‘Tittle-tattle.’

‘Whatever.’

‘Well, I appreciate it,’ said Banks. ‘But don’t worry. You won’t have to deal with me again.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. I thought we might actually have quite a bit in common. You like Van Morrison, for a start. In another time, under different circumstances, perhaps we could be friends.

‘Goodnight, Lady Chalmers. And thanks for calling.’

‘Ronnie, please. Goodnight. Enjoy the rest of the music.’

And the line went dead.

Banks reached for his glass and took another sip of wine. What the hell was all that about, he wondered? Was she flirting? It sounded like it. She was certainly apologising when she didn’t need to. Maybe she was trying to ingratiate herself to him. He had thought she had been lying to him when he questioned her about Gavin Miller, and he had been just as sure that it was her who had set the brass on him. Perhaps he was wrong. Anthony Litton seemed like the sort of man who was used to exerting influence where it counted. After all, there was a cabinet reshuffle coming in just under a week, and his son Oliver’s name was on everyone’s lips as the possible new Home Secretary. On the other hand, maybe Lady Chalmers had just had a few drinks too many, her husband had left her alone, or they’d had a row or something, so she’d phoned out of boredom or annoyance. But why him? It still didn’t make sense. Was she trying to tell him something? There had been something in her tone that could have been fear, or anxiety. Was she worried about something? In danger, even? Had he been rude? He thought he had.

For one mad moment, the phone in his hand, he thought of calling her back, then he decided against it. If any word of this got back to Gervaise, he would be in serious trouble. That wouldn’t necessarily bother him if he thought it was worth it, but in this case he wasn’t at all sure. Perhaps there was more to Miller’s phone call than she had admitted, for reasons he didn’t understand, but perhaps also the call had nothing to do with Miller’s murder. Perhaps, as Red Ron and Madame Gervaise had suggested, the murder was more to do with drugs or the college scandal.

And why had Anthony Litton dashed all the way up from Derbyshire? To intimidate the police? A family closing ranks? Lady Chalmers was his sister-in-law, of course, and she had told him she needed his support, but it all seemed a bit melodramatic. Why had Litton insisted on the lawyer’s presence, and why had he complained about Banks to the chief constable afterwards? It was tale-telling of the worst kind.

The more Banks thought about the last interview with Lady Chalmers, the more he felt that neither he nor Annie had crossed any lines. It had all been polite and above board, trying to clear up some confusing contradictions. So why the overreaction?

Sir Jeremy had been in New York when the murder occurred, but, like Lady Chalmers, he was resourceful, and he wouldn’t necessarily dirty his own hands with such a distasteful act. Could he have had something to do with it? Would a theatrical producer know where to find a hired killer? Maybe in New York he would. And was Lady Chalmers unsuspecting, worried, perhaps even a little frightened by the events going on around her?

Well, he might never know the answers, he realised, as he stood up to refill his glass in the kitchen and put on another CD in the entertainment room. This time he chose Veedon Fleece. Like Lady Chalmers — Ronnie — Banks had always wondered what a veedon fleece was, too.