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“So Payne was faithful to his wife from then on?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that the two of us didn’t pick up any more girls together. Sometimes he told me, you know, about picking up prostitutes and all.”
“What did he do with them?”
“What do you think?”
“He didn’t go into detail?”
“No.”
“Did he ever talk about his wife in a sexual way?”
“No. Never. He was very possessive about her, and very guarded. He hardly mentioned her at all when we were together. It was as if she were part of a different life altogether. Terry’s got a remarkable ability to compartmentalize things.”
“So it would seem. Did he ever suggest abducting young girls?”
“Do you seriously believe that I’d have anything to do with that sort of thing?”
“I don’t know, Geoff. You tell me. He talked to you about tying them up and fucking their brains out, and he certainly raped that teacher in Blackpool, no matter how willing she might have been to have regular sex with the two of you earlier. I don’t know what to think of your part in all this, Geoff, to be quite honest.”
Brighouse had lost all his color now, and he was trembling. “But you can’t think that I…? I mean…”
“Why not? There’s no reason you couldn’t have been in it with him. More convenient if there were two of you. Easier to abduct your victims. Any chloroform in the lab?”
“Chloroform? Yes. Why?”
“Under lock and key, is it?”
“Of course.”
“Who has a key?”
“I do. Terry. Keith Miller, the department head, Mr. Knight. I don’t know who else. Probably the caretaker and the cleaners, for all I know.”
“Whose prints do you think we’d find on the bottle?”
“I don’t know. I certainly can’t remember the last time I used the stuff.”
“What did you do last weekend?”
“Not much. Stayed home. Marked some projects. Went shopping in town.”
“Got a girlfriend at the moment, Geoff?”
“No.”
“See anyone else over the weekend?”
“Just neighbors – you know, people from the other flats, in the hall, on the stairs. Oh, and I went to the pictures Saturday night.”
“On your own?”
“Yes.”
“What did you go to see?”
“New James Bond, in the city center. And then I dropped in at my local.”
“Anyone see you?”
“A few of the regulars, yes. We had a game of darts.”
“How late were you there?”
“Closing time.”
Banks scratched his cheek. “I don’t know, Geoff. When you get right down to it, it’s not much of an alibi, is it?”
“I wasn’t aware I’d be needing one.”
The lab door opened and two boys poked their heads in. Geoff Brighouse seemed relieved. He looked at his watch, then at Banks, and gave a weak smile. “Time for class, I’m afraid.”
Banks stood up. “That’s all right, Geoff. I wouldn’t want to interfere in the education of the young.”
Brighouse beckoned the boys in, and more followed, swarming around the stools at the benches. He walked with Banks over to the door.
“I’d like you to come down to Millgarth and make a statement,” Banks said before leaving.
“A statement? Me? But why?”
“Just a formality. Tell the detective exactly what you just told me. And we’ll also need to know exactly where you were and what you were doing at the times those five girls were abducted. Details, witnesses, the lot. We’ll also need a fingerprint scan and a sample of DNA. It won’t be painful, just like brushing your teeth. This evening after school will do fine. Say five o’clock? Go to the front desk and ask for DC Younis. He’ll be expecting you.” Banks gave him a card and wrote down the name of the bright, if rather judgmental, young DC he had that very second chosen for the task of taking Brighouse’s formal statement. DC Younis was active in his local Methodist Chapel and a bit conservative, morally. “Cheers,” said Banks, leaving a stu
9
Pat Mitchell took a break when Je
Je
“How well do you know Lucy?” Je
“We’re pretty close. I mean, I’ve known her for about four years, ever since she started here at the bank. She had a little flat then, just off Tong Road. We’re about the same age. How is she? Have you seen her?” All the time she talked, Pat’s big brown eyes continued to glisten on the brink of tears.
“I saw her this morning,” Je
Pat smiled at the memory. “She was fun, a laugh. She liked a lark.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. She just wanted to enjoy herself, have a good time.”
“What was her idea of a good time?”
“Clubbing, going to pubs, parties, dancing, chatting up lads.”
“Just chatting them up?”
“Lucy was… well, she was just fu
“Why do you think that was?”
Pat swirled the grayish tea in her cup and looked into it as if she were seeking her fortune in the leaves. “I don’t know. It was as if she was waiting for someone.”
“Mr. Right?”
Pat laughed. “Something like that.” Je
“Did she ever tell you what her idea of Mr. Right was?”
“No. Just that none of the lads around here seemed to satisfy her in any way. She thought they were all stupid and all they had on their minds was football and sex. In that order.”
Je
“She wasn’t interested in money particularly. Dangerous? I don’t know. Maybe. She liked to live on the edge. Back then, like. She could be quite over-the-top.”
Je
“It’s nothing, really. I shouldn’t have spoken.”
“Go on. Tell me.”
Pat lowered her voice. “Look, you’re a psychiatrist, right?”
“Psychologist.”
“Whatever. Does that mean if I tell you something it goes no further? It stays between you and me and nobody can make you name your source? I mean, I wouldn’t want Lucy to think I’d been talking out of turn.”
While Je
Pat chewed on her lower lip and thought for a moment, then she leaned forward and gripped her teacup in both hands. “Well, once she wanted to go to some of those clubs in Chapeltown.”
“West Indian clubs?”
“Yes. I mean, most nice white girls wouldn’t go near places like that, but Lucy thought it would be exciting.”
“Did she go?”