“Maybe it was Ryan,” Kevin Templeton suggested.
Liz looked confused. “Ryan? What do you mean?”
“Well,” Templeton went on, “let me tell you what I think happened.” Annie gave him the nod. “I think Luke went to your flat after he’d been in the market square-”
“No. I told you. He didn’t come that day.”
“Let me finish.”
“But it’s not true! You’re making it up.”
“Be quiet,” Annie said. “Listen to what DC Templeton has to say.”
Liz flopped back in her chair. “Whatever.”
“Luke came to your place after he’d been in the market square. It was late afternoon. Ryan was out and the two of you thought you had time for a roll on the bed. He was a good-looking kid, fit, looked older than his age-”
“No! That didn’t happen. It wasn’t like that!”
“But Ryan came home and caught you at it. The two of them got in a scuffle and one way or another Luke ended up dead. I’m sure Ryan didn’t mean to kill him, but you had a body on your hands. What could you do? You waited until dark and then you loaded Luke’s body into the car and took it to Hallam Tarn, where Ryan hoisted him up the wall and dropped him over. He should have sunk the way dead bodies do, at least for a while, until they start to decompose and the gases build up and carry them to the surface, but he didn’t. His T-shirt snagged on an old tree root. Bad luck. Ryan wasn’t to know that. And nobody should have been in a position to find Luke because the whole area was quarantined due to foot-and-mouth restrictions. But a man from the Ministry had to take water samples. Bad luck, again. Ryan wasn’t to know that, either.” Templeton smiled, showing his white teeth, and folded his arms. “How am I doing so far, Liz?”
“It’s all lies. Nothing like that happened. You’re just making it up to get us in trouble. I’ve heard about the police doing things like this before.”
“You’re already in trouble,” Annie said. “We’re trying to help you out, find an explanation for what happened. Maybe it did happen the way DC Templeton suggested. Maybe it was an accident? If it was, we can help. But you have to tell us the truth.”
“Look, I don’t know how that bag got there,” Liz said. “We hadn’t seen Luke since the last band practice.”
“You’re not making it easy for us,” Annie said.
“I can’t help it! What do you want me to do? Make something up just to satisfy you?”
“I want the truth.”
“I’ve told you the truth.”
“You’ve told us nothing, Liz.”
“Look,” said Templeton, “we can check, you know. Our forensics people are very good.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean they’ll go through your flat with the proverbial fine-tooth comb, and if there’s any evidence of wrongdoing, even a drop of Luke’s blood, they’ll find it.”
“He’s right,” Annie said. “There’s the poker, for a start. I noticed it when we were talking to you. You don’t see them very often these days. If there’s any trace of Luke’s blood or hair on it, we’ll find it. And if there are any traces on the carpet, between the floorboards, down the sink, we’ll find them.”
Liz crossed her arms and bit her lip. Annie could tell she’d touched a nerve. What was it? The mention of blood? Did Liz know they’d find traces of Luke’s blood in the flat? “What is it, Liz?” she asked. “Something to tell me?”
Liz shook her head.
“Ryan’s being interviewed just next door,” Templeton said. “I’ll bet he’s telling them it was all your fault, that you killed Luke and he had to get rid of the body for you.”
“Ryan wouldn’t do that.”
“Even if it were true?” Annie asked.
“But it’s not true. We didn’t kill anyone. How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Until we believe you,” Annie said. “And until you come up with a satisfactory explanation of how Luke’s bag got into your cupboard.”
“I don’t know.”
“What about the ransom demands?”
“What about them?”
“Whose idea was that? Was it Ryan’s? Did he see it as an easy opportunity to make some money now that Luke was dead anyway? Or did he do it to confuse us?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Annie stood up and Templeton followed suit. “Right,” Annie said, switching off the tapes. “I’m fed up of this. Have her taken to the custody suite, Kev, and arrange for the taking of intimate samples. Maybe we’ll be lucky and get a DNA match with the blood on the wall. And get a search warrant. We’ll have forensics in her flat within an hour. Then we’ll talk to the super and find out what Ryan had to say for himself.”
“Right, ma’m,” said Templeton.
“And don’t bloody call me ma’m,” Annie added under her breath.
Liz stood up. “You can’t do this! You can’t keep me here.”
“Just watch us,” said Annie.
Banks tapped on his parents’ front door and walked in. It was early evening, and he had plenty of time to spare before his nine o’clock meeting with Michelle. His parents had finished washing the dishes and were settling down to watch Coronation Street, just as they had all those years ago, the night the police came to call about Graham, the night Joey flew away.
“It’s all right, don’t get up,” Banks said to his mother. “I’m not stopping long. I have to go out. I just came by to drop off my overnight bag first.”
“You’ll have a cup of tea, though, won’t you, dear?” his mother insisted.
“Maybe he wants something stronger,” his father suggested.
“No, thanks, Dad,” said Banks. “Tea will be fine.”
“Up to you,” said Arthur Banks. “The sun’s well over the yardarm. I’ll have that bottle of ale while you’re up, love.”
Ida Banks disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Banks and his father to their uneasy silence.
“Any progress?” Banks senior finally asked.
“On what?”
“Your old pal. Graham Marshall.”
“Not much,” said Banks.
“That why you’re here again?”
“No,” Banks lied. “It’s not my case. It’s the funeral tomorrow.”
Arthur Banks nodded.
Banks’s mother popped her head around the kitchen door. “I knew I had something to tell you, Alan. I’ve got a head like a sieve these days. I was talking to Elsie Grenfell yesterday, and she said her David’s coming down for the service tomorrow. And that Major lad’s supposed to be here as well. Won’t it be exciting, seeing all your old pals again?”
“Yes,” said Banks, smiling to himself. Some things, like the Coronation Street ritual – and thank the Lord there was still ten minutes to go before the program started – never changed. Paul Major had always been “that Major lad” to Ida Banks, even though she knew full well that his name was Paul. It was meant to indicate that she didn’t quite approve of him. Banks couldn’t imagine why. Of all of them, Paul Major had been the most goody-goody, the one most likely to become a chartered accountant or a banker.
“What about Steve?” Banks asked. “Steve Hill?”
“I haven’t heard anything about him for years,” Ida Banks said, then disappeared back into the kitchen.
It wasn’t surprising. The Hills had moved off the estate many years ago, when Steve’s dad got transferred to Northumberland. Banks had lost track of them and didn’t know where they lived now. He wondered if Steve had even heard about the finding of Graham’s bones.
“I don’t suppose it came to anything, what we were talking about in the Coach last time you were here?” Arthur Banks said.
“About the Krays and Mr. Marshall? Probably not. But it was useful background.”
Arthur Banks coughed. “Had over half the Metropolitan Police in their pockets, the Krays did, in their time.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Mrs. Banks came through with the tea and her husband’s beer on a rose-patterned tray. “Our Roy phoned this afternoon,” she said, beaming. “He said to say hello.”