‘I think I would have known about it if they had,’ said Sir Jeremy. ‘I’m not always out of the country and, contrary to what you think, my wife is not a duplicitous woman. Besides, from what Tony tells me, he was a college lecturer who got dismissed for sexual misconduct and let himself go to seed. He was desperate for money, and I think he tried to play on old times to trick my wife out of some.’
‘That’s one way of looking at it,’ Banks agreed.
‘You mean there’s another?’
‘Gavin Miller was unjustly accused by two female students and dismissed for something he didn’t do, in revenge for something he had done to a friend of one of the girls. Something that actually benefitted the community.’ He knew that this was going too far, giving out such information to Sir Jeremy, but he felt that a certain level of frankness was called for.
‘You’re saying he was some kind of saint? You know this for a fact?’
‘We think we know what happened and why, yes. But I’m not saying he was a saint. Yes, he had let himself go to seed, and yes, he was desperate for money. His personal hygiene sucked, too. He may even have tried to con your wife out of some money. But he was still a human being, and he was badly abused.’
Sir Jeremy took it all in and said, ‘He still doesn’t sound like the kind of person Ronnie would hang about with.’
‘I agree,’ said Banks. ‘So you’d say that she’s had nothing to do with him since her university days?’
‘I would. I can’t prove it beyond any shadow of a doubt — I haven’t been with her every minute of every day — but that’s what I believe. I can certainly swear to you that, if she did, I had no knowledge of it. We all have people from our pasts we leave by the wayside. Sometimes they come back to haunt us. That’s what happened with this man. He thought an old girlfriend might be a soft touch. That he got murdered around the same time he tried to con my wife out of a few quid is mere coincidence. Do you really think Ronnie would murder someone for such a paltry amount? Or that I would? She’s not a violent person, I assure you. Her nature is actually very kindly, and about the only thing that really surprises me is that she didn’t give him what he asked for. She’s a sucker for street people and the like, always handing out money.’
‘Maybe if he’d asked her nicely?’ Banks said.
Sir Jeremy trod out his cigarette. ‘Yes. Maybe.’
‘Well maybe he did. Maybe she gave him some money, then someone who knew he had it on him murdered him. But he couldn’t get it. He heard someone coming, so he ran off. But the problem with that theory is that nobody could have walked along that railway track and not seen Gavin Miller’s body, yet it wasn’t discovered or reported until the following morning. Someone else who didn’t want to get involved, perhaps? Someone up to no good who couldn’t afford to be associated with a recently deceased loser?’
‘Hm,’ said Sir Jeremy. ‘I can see you have a few more problems that need solving, but I honestly don’t think any of them are to do with Ronnie. She specifically says that she didn’t give Miller any money, and I believe her, just as I believe the three women spent the evening at Brierley as they say they did. The memories his telephone call triggered were probably not good ones for Ronnie, or they may have left her completely unmoved. He might have taken a hectoring tone, something I can tell you would be guaranteed to put her off, or maybe he said something she doesn’t want to tell me, or you, about. But I believe her.’
Banks was starting to get cold, wishing they could just get in the car again and drive away, but Sir Jeremy seemed especially communicative out here on the moors and he didn’t want to break the spell. ‘Did you ever meet Gavin Miller?’ Banks asked.
‘Me? No. I thought I’d already made that clear. I’d never even heard of him until Ronnie told me you’d been around asking about him, then I read about his death in the papers.’
‘So she didn’t tell you about his phone call at the time he made it?’
‘No. I don’t suppose she thought it was important.’ Sir Jeremy hesitated.
‘What is it?’ Banks asked.
Sir Jeremy pulled out another cigarette and lit it. After inhaling deeply and letting the plume of smoke disperse on the wind, he said, ‘It’s been a horrendously busy time for me. As you know, I’ve been over in New York trying to put this damn show together, then I had some difficult meetings in London about the UK production. Quite honestly, it’s all been a bit of a nightmare, and I’ve probably neglected Ronnie to some extent. Too much on my plate. I haven’t been there for her. She’s used to that, of course, but I might have missed a few signals this time.’
‘What do you mean?’ Banks asked.
‘Well, now I think about it, she seemed generally worried and distracted when I got back from New York. She never said why, and as she hadn’t told me about the phone call, I couldn’t make any sense of her behaviour. But I also had too much going on in my life to take the time and really talk to her, as I should have done, to try to find out what was happening. We do talk, you know. Ronnie isn’t secretive with me, and she does like to get things out in the open, problems and stuff. But I never asked her what was bothering her, and then I wasn’t around. The phone’s not the same, especially when you’re calling from thousands of miles away. To be honest, it was easier to blame you for all Ronnie’s distress, but when I think about it, I have to admit that it started before you first talked to her.’
Oriana had told Banks much the same thing, but he wasn’t going to rat her out to Sir Jeremy. ‘And since the murder?’
‘Well, obviously, she’s been even more upset. But again, I put that down to you and your persistent questions and insinuations. Perhaps she thought more of this Miller than I realised, or than she realised. The whole thing must have brought back some powerful memories. Perhaps she felt guilty. You know, maybe if she had given him money, he wouldn’t have died. That sort of thing. This was one time I really had no idea what was bothering her. Who knows how the human mind works, what torturous and labyrinthine paths we lead ourselves down?’
‘How was she before the phone call?’
‘Fine. As far as I know. Happy, healthy, productive. She’s always had problems with her nerves now and then. Just episodes. Nothing serious. It’s just her nature. Highly strung. She’s an idealist and a perfectionist, and that’s tough to keep up in this world. Easier perhaps when you’re young, but a damn sight harder as you get older. But she was fine. Since the phone call, it’s like the nerves have come back.’
He was being very open and forthright, Banks thought, wondering if there was a reason behind it. ‘And since the murder?’
Sir Jeremy gave Banks a direct look. ‘Again, I thought it was your fault. But I’ve found her crying for no reason, jumping at shadows. She’s been taking Valium again. I’m only grateful that Angelina and Oriana have been around to help keep her together. The strain is showing.’
‘What do you think it’s all about?’
‘I have absolutely no idea, but what bothers me most is that I think she’s scared of something. I’m worried that she might be in danger. I think we need your help, Mr Banks, and you can rely on me not to interfere at higher levels, if you take my meaning. But I don’t know what it is you’re supposed to do.’ Sir Jeremy checked his watch and pulled his jacket collar tight to keep out the chill. ‘Come on,’ he said, with a forced grin. ‘I’ve got a meeting in Edinburgh this evening. Let’s get back to that lovely Porsche of yours.’