‘Did you hear about Gavin Miller?’
‘Gavin Miller? No. What...?’
‘He’s dead,’ Gerry said. ‘We think he was killed, in fact.’
‘Oh... I... I don’t know what you expect me to say.’
‘As long as you don’t say you’re glad he’s dead,’ said Winsome, smiling.
‘Oh, I would never say that. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. But why come to me?’
‘We’re talking to everyone we can find who was ever connected with him. He didn’t seem to have a lot of friends, so we’re mostly talking to his enemies.’
‘We weren’t enemies,’ said Beth. ‘He abused me, yes. But we weren’t enemies.’
‘You forgave him?’ Winsome asked.
Beth twirled one of her curls around her long tapered index finger. ‘I suppose so. It was a long time ago. I don’t think about it any more.’
‘Four years, give or take a bit.’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re doing all right?’
‘I know it doesn’t seem like much,’ Beth said, ‘but it’s what I want. It’s a rung on the ladder. Lots of ADs, even line producers, start as floor runners. You do a bit of everything, get to learn all about the business from the ground up.’
‘Is that what you want to be?’ Winsome asked. ‘A director?’
‘I wouldn’t necessarily aim that high — I’m not really that artistic — but I’d like to get into production at some level.’
Winsome, who had never been clear about the difference between directors and producers, let alone assistant directors and line producers, let that go. ‘Well, good luck, then.’
‘Thank you. Er... I really am very busy. I’m still the junior around here. We’ve got the author coming in this afternoon — the author of the books the series is based on — and I have to take care of him. We like to keep the authors happy. That way they won’t complain too much about what we do to their books.’
‘We shouldn’t keep you very long,’ Winsome said, and nodded towards Gerry, who took out her notebook. ‘We’d like to talk to you about Gavin Miller.’
‘I really thought I’d put all that behind me. I don’t know anything about him.’
‘Things have a way of coming back to haunt us all. Were you telling the truth about what happened in his office?’
‘What do you mean? Of course I was. Are you suggesting that I was lying?’
‘Well, were you?’
‘No.’
Someone opened the door to the caravan, another woman, a few years older than Beth. ‘Oh, sorry,’ she said, glancing at Winsome and Gerry. ‘Didn’t know you had company. I’ll come back later, shall I?’
‘Sure, fine,’ said Beth. She glanced at her watch. ‘Give us fifteen minutes.’
The door closed again and Winsome carried on. ‘Can you tell us exactly what happened that day?’
Beth slouched sulkily in her chair. ‘I’ve been over it hundreds of times with the board and the committee and whatever. Do I have to go through it all again?’
‘Humour me,’ said Winsome.
Beth scowled and twisted her lips about a bit, then said, ‘I was in his office. Professor Miller’s. He wasn’t really a professor, but we called him that. We were going over an essay I’d done on the production problems in Heaven’s Gate. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but—’
‘If you want this to be quick, Beth, you’d better skip the movie précis.’
Beth glared at Winsome briefly, then went on, ‘It was an important project. Twenty per cent of my final mark. And part of it was that you had to be able to discuss it, defend it, to the prof. So, anyway, there I was, sitting on the other side of his desk, reading out a particular section, when he got up, walked behind me and reached down to point out something on the page over my shoulder, and as he did so, his fingers brushed... you know... by my breast.’
‘Was there any possibility this was accidental?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I mean, I’d seen him taking surreptitious glances at them before, when he thought I didn’t know about it. Even in class sometimes. It wasn’t as if I wore low-cut tops or tight sweaters or anything. I can’t help having large breasts.’
‘Did he grasp it or squeeze it?’
‘No.’
‘Just brushed his fingers lightly against it?’
‘Hard enough that I could feel it. Isn’t that enough?’
‘And what did you do?’
‘I told him to geroff, and he scuttled off back to his chair a bit red-faced. He wrapped things up pretty quickly after that, told me the essay was fine, and I left.’
‘What did you do then?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Why not?’
Beth chewed her lower lip. ‘I know it doesn’t look good, but I was worried that if I said anything, if I reported him before the end of term, then he’d fail me. I was doing quite well, and I didn’t want to screw things up.’
‘Did he have that much power? Enough to derail your academic chances?’
‘I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking it through logically. All I know is that he still hadn’t marked me on the essay or the final exam, and I didn’t want to jeopardise my chances of passing.’
‘That makes sense,’ said Winsome.
‘Weren’t you concerned about other students, though, Beth?’ Gerry asked. ‘If it had happened to you, it could happen to others, couldn’t it? And it could have gone further with some. I mean, what if he’d asked you to have sex with him in order to get a good mark. Would you have done that?’
Beth seemed flustered. ‘But he didn’t, did he? He touched my breast.’
‘Even so, you can’t have felt very secure with someone like that working in the department.’
‘I didn’t really think it through, I told you. I just... you know... I tried to forget about it. I didn’t want to make a fuss.’
‘But you didn’t succeed in forgetting about it, did you?’ Winsome said. ‘When your friend Kayleigh Vernon complained about Gavin Miller, you came forward and added your complaint to the list. That was also before your final marks were in, I believe.’
‘If there were two of us, then they would have to listen to what we said, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t just be able to ignore us. He wouldn’t be able to get revenge by failing us.’
‘Is that really what you thought?’
‘Of course. Wouldn’t you?’
Winsome didn’t know. If there had been any such behaviour going on at her school, everyone in the community would have known about it, and it wouldn’t have been tolerated. Her father was always complaining about how people took the law into their own hands, but he was a part of the community, too. He understood the people, and he turned a blind eye on many occasions. Later, when Winsome was at university in Manchester, she had thought she was more than capable of taking care of herself in such a situation, though it had never occurred. ‘I suppose it’s true that there’s strength in numbers,’ she said. ‘Could that have been why you added your story to Kayleigh’s?’
‘I told you. That’s what happened. Why don’t you believe me?’
‘Because it’s come to our attention that the two of you were hanging out with a drug dealer called Kyle McClusky. Kyle dealt bad stuff, like methamphetamines, oxycodone, cocaine and Rohypnol, or roofies, used for slipping into unsuspecting girls’ drinks and making them compliant for sex. What we heard was that Gavin Miller warned Kyle to leave or he’d report him. Kyle left, but he was angry, he wanted revenge, and for that he enlisted you and Kayleigh. You probably thought it was a great lark. Isn’t that what really happened?’
Beth had gone quiet and very pale during Winsome’s interpretation of events. For a while, she said nothing, then she muttered, ‘I can’t speak for Kayleigh, but I know what happened to me.’
‘That doesn’t sound very convincing,’ said Winsome. ‘Listen to yourself, Beth. Strength in numbers. You made it all up, didn’t you, both of you, partly to get revenge for Kyle, and partly — well, for fun, or perhaps out of cruelty? It was a lark.’