Playing With Fire

“Yes, sir.”

“Any first impressions?”

“Only that this is all a terrible intrusion into his valuable time, and he needed reminding he even owned the boats.”

“Okay,” said Banks. “I don’t suppose we can expect much from him, then, but it’s got to be done.”

“And, sir?”

“Yes.”

“A woman called.”

“Which woman?”

“Maria Phillips, from the art gallery. Wants to talk to you again. Says she’ll be in the Queen’s Arms at half six. I think maybe she fancies you, sir.”

“I’ll deal with her. Anything else?”

“DS Nowak wants to see you as soon as you can make it.”

“Where is he?”

“Here, in his office.”

“Right. Tell him to hang on. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Will do, sir.”

Banks hung up and went back to Andrew Hurst, who was in the same chair, chewing on a fingernail. There was no point pursuing the peeping angle. If Hurst had been trying to get a peek at Tina naked, then he wasn’t going to admit it. And even if he did, what could Banks do about it? It wasn’t as if Tina were still around to press charges. But if she’d noticed and had threatened to tell on him…? No, there was scant enough evidence to link Hurst with the first fire, and none at all with the second. Besides, the fire had definitely been set on McMahon’s boat. Why risk tackling a grown, fit man when you could set fire to a junkie on the nod?

Banks thought Hurst was weird, and probably a peeper, but he was quickly coming to the realization that there was nothing he could do about it. The only obvious motive he might have had was revenge at McMahon’s treating him so badly when he paid his neighborly visit, but that didn’t seem a strong enough motive for murder unless Hurst had more than just one screw loose. Still, there were enough questions about him that needed answers to keep him on the list.

“Why did you wash your clothes, Andrew?” Banks asked. “Including the anorak. You must admit that looks suspicious.”

Hurst looked at him. “I know it does. It’s just…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight. I mean, yes, of course I knew you’d find out I’d been arrested in co

“You smelled turpentine?”

“Yes. It was in the air.”

“You didn’t tell us at the time.”

“I didn’t want to get involved.”

If Banks had a pe

Hurst nodded gloomily and put the card on the table.

“You can get back to your Helen Shapiro now,” Banks said, and left.

A

“What a pleasure to see you,” said Phil, closing the door behind her.

“It’s not exactly a social call,” said A

Phil raised his eyebrows. “Me? A consultation? Official?”

“Approved by the superintendent, no less,” said A

“But what can I possibly do to help you?”

A

“Well, well,” said Phil. “These are a surprise. Where did you find them?”

“In a fire-resistant safe in that caravan that burned down over the weekend. It belonged to a man by the name of Roland Gardiner.”

“The fire you had to leave di

“That’s right.”

Phil leaned over and studied the drawings closely. A

“Only some money. No more drawings, if that’s what you mean.”

“No documents, letters, auction catalogs, nothing like that?”

“No.”

“Pity.” Phil took a large magnifying glass from a box on the bookshelf and went back to the sketches, studying them more closely. “It certainly looks like authentic period paper,” he said. “I might get a better sense if I could touch it, too, though.”

“Sorry,” A

“Whose fingerprints would you expect to find?”

“You never know. We might find the victim’s. And Thomas McMahon’s, if there’s a link between them.”

“You think McMahon forged these?”

“I don’t know. That’s partly why I came to you.”

“But how would you know it was this McMahon’s finger-prints? I mean, I assume if he’d been badly burned – both of them, in fact – then their hands…”

“Well, that’s true,” said A

“How do you get fingerprints from paper? I mean, if they’re not immediately visible through a magnifying glass.”

“I leave it to the boffins,” said A

“Isn’t that a destructive process? Couldn’t it damage the works? If these are genuine Turners…”

“I’m sure that’s something they’ll take into consideration. They can probably use some sort of light source – laser or ultraviolet. I really don’t know, Phil. The technology keeps changing. It’s hard to keep up with. But don’t worry, our fingerprint expert knows what he’s doing. The last thing he’d want to do is to damage a work of art, especially if it’s a genuine one.”

“That’s good,” said Phil. “Then I assume you brought these to me because you want me to tell you if they’re fake or real?”

“That would be a great help,” said A

“It’s not as easy as all that, you know, especially when they’re covered in plastic. I mean, I can give an opinion off-the-cuff, mostly based on the style, but there are tests, other experts to be consulted, that sort of thing. And the provenance, of course. That would go a long way toward establishing whether it’s genuine or not.”

“I understand,” said A

“Well, they’re similar to other Turner sketches in the large sketchbook and pocketbook he used on his 1816 Yorkshire tour, so it might also be possible to do a bit of comparison work with some bona fide originals. Later, of course, when you’ve finished with them.”