‘Someone must have told him.’
‘Was that someone you?’ Winsome asked.
Lisa pointed her thumb at her chest. ‘Me?’
‘That’s what I said. You seem to be unusually involved in the whole business, and when I ask myself why, I find myself thinking it was because you started it. You tipped Gavin Miller off about Kyle McClusky’s illegal activities in the first place, so when you saw him in trouble, and you found out it was related to what he did to Kyle, you felt responsible. That’s fair enough. Am I right?’
There was a long pause. Lisa blew on the surface of her tea and took a sip. The scent of camomile drifted towards Winsome. Immediately it reminded her of home, though camomile didn’t grow there. Perhaps all exotic scents reminded her of home. She liked camomile tea, wished she’d said yes when it was on offer. ‘What if I did?’ Lisa said, lifting her eyes from the mug to look directly at Winsome, rather than Annie.
‘Did you?’ Winsome asked.
Lisa held her gaze for several seconds. It felt like minutes to Winsome. ‘Yes,’ she said finally. ‘I’d seen what Kyle was doing, what was going on. One or two people had told me about the effects of the stuff he sold. A friend of mine nearly OD’d, and one girl thought she’d been raped, but she couldn’t remember anything. I didn’t like to do it, but it was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Tell on him?’
‘It was a brave decision,’ said Winsome. ‘But why did you tell Gavin Miller?’
‘Because he was the only adult who took me seriously about anything. The only person in authority I trusted. And he knew Kyle from one of his classes. He could have a private word with him.’
‘Why not go to the college authorities, or to us?’ Annie asked. ‘I mean, here’s someone who’s selling drugs — very nasty drugs, not that nice hippy-trippy stuff you got for Gavin Miller — and you know about it, you see the results for yourself. Why not go to the police instead of some ineffectual lecturer?’
‘Gavin wasn’t ineffectual. I... I just couldn’t.’
‘Why not, Lisa?’ Winsome asked gently to offset what she thought of as Annie’s aggression. Not that it couldn’t be effective — she could be hard on interviewees herself — but she felt unusually protective of Lisa, perhaps because she seemed so vulnerable. But there was something she wasn’t telling them.
Lisa chewed on her lip. ‘They’d never have believed me. I just wasn’t in great shape. I couldn’t have handled all the questions, the lawyers, court.’
‘What was wrong with you?’ Winsome pressed.
‘Nothing, for fuck’s sake. I just couldn’t do it. All right?’
‘So you went to Gavin Miller?’
‘Yes. He dealt with the problem, didn’t he?’
‘But he didn’t put Kyle McClusky in jail, where he belonged,’ said Annie.
‘Jail’s not the answer to everything.’
‘No, but it’s a bloody good start for some people.’
‘He’d only have become more of a criminal in there, learn more tricks, let his hatred of society curdle.’
‘Very poetic,’ Annie said, ‘but not our business. We’re in the business of putting away villains, not babysitting them or making excuses for them. You don’t get rid of rats by catching them in a cage then taking them next door and letting them out. Thanks to you, Kyle McClusky’s stayed out there, on the streets, helping more boys dose girls with roofies so they could have their evil way. And I’ve got news for you. He’s in jail now learning more tricks and letting his hatred curdle. Pity it’s too late for some.’
Lisa stared down into her lap. Winsome could tell she was crying. She gave Annie a warning glance. Her harsh approach wasn’t helping matters; it was making Lisa clam up. Annie slid her finger across her lips in a sealing gesture.
‘So Gavin Miller told Kyle to get out of Dodge?’ Winsome said, trying to break the tension.
Lisa paused for a while, sniffed, then she looked up. ‘Something like that. An ultimatum. Drugs dealing or college.’
‘So because you initiated this, when Gavin was later charged with sexually intimidating Kayleigh, then Beth came forward, you wanted to help him, right?’
‘I didn’t realise the connection then. I just wanted to help him because he was good to me, but there was nothing I could do at first. Then when I heard them talking about it in the toilets later, boasting and laughing, I went to Mr Lomax. He was the head of department, after all, and he was supposed to be Mr Miller’s fucking friend.’
‘How much later?’ Annie asked.
‘I told you, I don’t know exactly. A few weeks. Three weeks, a month, maybe, at the most. Before the end of term, anyway.’
‘So why would Beth and Kayleigh be crowing over what they’d done to Gavin Miller in the ladies’ toilets a month after they’d done it?’ Annie butted in. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’
Lisa turned to Winsome, as if expecting her to leap to her defence. She didn’t. ‘I don’t know, do I? All I know is what I heard.’
‘Why didn’t you tell the committee the truth at the time?’ Annie went on.
‘What do you mean? How could I know the truth then? I’ve told you. It was only later when I heard them.’
‘But you knew that Beth and Kayleigh were friends with Kyle.’
‘No, I didn’t. Not from the start, I didn’t. I didn’t see any connection between Mr Miller’s problems and Kyle’s activities until later, when I overheard Beth and Kayleigh in the ladies’. They said something about what he’d done to their friend Kyle. It was only then that I found out and realised what it meant. Besides, what difference would it have made?’
‘Oh, come on, Lisa,’ said Annie, ‘you can’t have known what the committee did and didn’t know. And isn’t it funny that all of a sudden you remember a very important part of their conversation you neglected to mention earlier? You’re making it up as you go along, aren’t you? You can’t expect us to believe you were so out of it you couldn’t even get them to put two and two together, to have another go at the girls. They probably couldn’t have stood up to a proper interrogation. Beth Gallagher came clean pretty quickly when we talked to her.’
‘Only because it happened so long ago. Only because she knows there’s nothing you can do to her. Only because Mr Miller is dead. Only because it doesn’t fucking matter any more. And because you’re... you’re... you bullied her.’
Winsome saw the tears form in Lisa’s eyes again and start to make tracks down her cheeks. ‘But it does matter, Lisa,’ she said. ‘It matters precisely because he’s dead.’
‘But surely you can’t think I had anything to do with that?’ Lisa pleaded. ‘Why won’t you just leave me alone?’ The tough streetwise chick Winsome had met only days ago was gone now, replaced by a confused and frightened young girl.
‘But it may all be connected,’ Winsome said. ‘And there may be something you can tell us that might not seem important or relevant to you but that will help us. Can’t you see that? We don’t always travel by direct routes.’
‘I still don’t see how I can help you.’
Winsome had a definite sensation that the channels of communication were closing down.
‘This is getting us nowhere,’ Annie said, standing to leave. ‘We’re going round in circles.’
Sadly, Winsome agreed. When she looked at Lisa, she still felt for her, and she also still felt that she was missing something. Lisa was stubborn and secretive and private. It would take more than what they had right now to prise the truth out of her.
Banks had got to Leeds early, parked the car near the Merrion Centre and walked down to Browns, on the corner of the Headrow and Cookridge Street, where he was supposed to meet Ken Blackstone. Ken was usually a curry man, but he pleaded a dodgy stomach and suggested something a bit less spicy this time. It was an overcast evening, but warm enough. Banks was standing outside talking to Annie on his mobile, and as he talked, his eyes scanned the crowds of city workers going home, mingled in with legal types from the nearby courts and law chambers on Park Square, most carrying rolled-up umbrellas and briefcases, waiting for buses that came in clusters of two and three, in all colours — cream, purple, maroon, green — double-deckers or long bendy buses, bound for the suburbs and beyond, to such exotic destinations as Huddersfield, Halifax, Bradford, Cleckheaton and Heckmondwike.