‘No!’
‘Someone overheard you boasting about what you’d succeeded in doing when you thought there was no one listening.’
‘Who? Who said that? When? Where?’
‘It doesn’t matter who, when or where,’ said Winsome. ‘The point is that it’s true, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know. How could I remember something like that? It’s probably a lie. I don’t remember doing anything like that. But it doesn’t matter now, anyway, does it? Professor Miller’s dead and we’ve all moved on.’
‘You did terrible damage to his career, to his life,’ Winsome said. ‘Doesn’t that bother you?’
‘He was always staring at my breasts.’
‘But he didn’t touch them, did he?’
Beth’s lips drew tight together. She said nothing, but Winsome could see it in her eyes, that mixture of fear and defiance; Beth was working out what they could do to her, how brazen she could be. In the end she whispered, ‘No.’
‘And Kayleigh?’
‘We were talking. She said he was always ogling her, too. He was a creep. We thought we’d get our own back and give him one for forcing Kyle out of college at the same time.’
‘Don’t you realise that he probably did Kyle a big favour by not reporting him to the authorities immediately?’
‘We didn’t see it that way at the time.’
Winsome nodded to show her understanding, and that she was being non-judgemental. In fact, she was thinking what an utter worthless soul this girl and her friend were, and how they deserved some sort of punishment for what they had done to Gavin Miller. But she wasn’t going to express any of that. It would only put Beth on the defensive when they needed to get her to relax her guard. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘That’s better. I’m interested in the drugs. Did Kyle supply Mr Miller with drugs while he was at Eastvale?’
‘Mr Miller? No way,’ said Beth incredulously. ‘Mr Miller was a prof. He... I mean, he wouldn’t be taking drugs, would he?’
‘Might Kyle have wanted to take his own revenge on Gavin Miller? Perhaps he felt that Miller robbed him of his education, of a chance to make something of his life.’
‘How would I know? Kyle was pissed off, sure. Who wouldn’t be?’
‘Which one of you was going out with him?’
‘Kyle? Neither of us, really. I mean, we just hung out and partied. I suppose him and Kayleigh used to fuck sometimes when they were high. Kayleigh liked coke, and Kyle usually had some.’
‘And you?’
‘I never touched any of it.’
And the moon is made of green cheese, thought Winsome, but again she nodded sagely, and with understanding. Kyle and Kayleigh, what a funny combination it sounded. As if they should be on a reality TV show.
‘Do you still see one another?’ Gerry asked, glancing up from her notebook. ‘You and Kayleigh.’
‘What?’ Beth looked as if she had almost forgotten Gerry was there. ‘Oh, no. We went our separate ways. It’s four years ago. A lifetime. We’ve both moved on.’
Right, thought Winsome, and Banks is still chasing the connection between Gavin Miller and Lady Chalmers that, if it existed at all, goes back forty years. Four didn’t seem so long by comparison; it was all relative. ‘So you don’t see one another, you never meet up for a drink, anything like that, talk about old times, have a laugh?’ she asked.
‘Nope.’
‘And Kyle?’
‘I’ve no idea where he is or what he’s doing, and I don’t care.’
‘So it was all just a bit of a lark to you?’
‘I suppose it was, yeah. What of it? There’s nothing you can do. Not now. Why don’t you give it a rest? Too much time has gone by. Nobody at the college would thank you for raking it up. And Professor Miller’s dead, so he doesn’t care, does he?’
‘I suppose not,’ said Winsome. ‘Can you think of anything in any of this mess that could possibly be linked with Gavin Miller’s murder?’
‘Well I certainly didn’t do it!’
‘Did he ever come to you and ask for money?’
‘No. Why would he do that?’
‘Where were you last Sunday night around ten o’clock?’ Gerry asked.
‘Here. Ask anyone. We work Sundays, and we don’t finish till midnight or one o’clock.’
‘Did you ever see Gavin Miller again after he was dismissed and you graduated?’
‘No. Why would I? It was just something I wanted to forget, put behind me.’
‘But why? It was fun, wasn’t it? Didn’t you want to carry on torturing the poor man?’
Beth rubbed at an imaginary patch on her jeans. When she looked up again, Winsome thought her eyes were glistening a little, as if brimming with tears, though none came. ‘It was fun at first, yes. Just to have something actually happening around that bloody mausoleum was fun. It was fun to see just how pompous they all got, all pompous and holier than thou. But then... I mean, I just wanted it to stop, wanted to say let’s put an end to it, let it go.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘It was too late. I couldn’t. It seemed to have a momentum all of its own by then. Everything was in motion. If we’d retracted, then we’d have been the ones out on our ears. I mean Kayleigh and me. Kyle was already out.’
‘So you went on with the farce right to the bitter end?’
‘Yes. I mean, it’s not as if he didn’t ogle us or anything.’
Ogling’s one thing, Winsome wanted to say, and touching is quite another, but she kept quiet.
‘Beth, have you ever heard of Lady Veronica Chalmers?’ Gerry asked. ‘Did Gavin Miller ever mention her to you?’
‘Who?’
‘Lady Veronica Chalmers. She writes as Charlotte Summers.’
Beth shook her head slowly in incomprehension. ‘I’ve heard of her, of course, read about her — isn’t she the one who writes bodice-rippers, whose husband produces those big Broadway spectaculars? — but just from the entertainment sections in the papers. Not from Professor Miller or anyone else.’
‘From Kyle or Kayleigh?’
‘No. Why?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Gerry.
‘Is there anything more you can tell us?’ Winsome asked, standing up to leave.
‘No,’ said Beth. ‘It was a stupid thing to do, I know, but it’s over. I’ve got my life to live now. There’s no point dwelling on the past, is there?’
When Banks and Annie returned to the station from Brierley House, after a brief stop for coffee and a post-mortem of the interview on their way, there was a message for Banks at reception, asking him to go up to Area Commander Gervaise’s office as soon as he was available. Annie raised her eyebrows, grinned and said, ‘Good luck,’ then hurried up to the squad room.
Banks took a deep breath and began following her up the stairs. When he reached Gervaise’s office door, he knocked and was immediately asked to come in. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see Assistant Chief Constable Ron McLaughlin sitting opposite AC Gervaise, but he was. Lady Chalmers must have been very quick off the mark indeed, he thought. Unless it was that smarmy lawyer, Ralph Nathan.
McLaughlin grunted a greeting, and Gervaise told Banks to sit down. There was no offer of coffee. ‘I assume you know what this is about?’ she began.
‘No idea,’ said Banks.
‘Cut the crap, Alan,’ McLaughlin cut in. ‘I’ve had the bloody chief constable bellowing fire in my ear for half an hour already this morning, and I’m in no mood for flippancy.’
‘Sir.’
‘As I understand it, you’ve paid two visits to Lady Veronica Chalmers in the last two days. Is that correct?’