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“Even so,” A
“Well, there’s no accounting for taste, is there? But no, I didn’t actually see any of them. The easel was empty when I paid my visit. Maybe he was some sort of eccentric. The tortured genius. Maybe he kept a fortune under his mattress and someone killed him for it?”
“What makes you think he was killed?” Banks asked.
“I don’t. I was just tossing out ideas, that’s all.”
“The area looks pretty inaccessible to me,” Banks said. “What would be the best approach?”
“From the towpath,” Hurst said. “But the nearest bridge is east of here, so anyone who came that way would have had to pass the cottage.”
“Did you see anyone that night? Anyone on the towpath heading toward the branch?”
“No, but I was watching television. I could easily have missed it if someone walked by.”
“What would be the next-best approach?”
Hurst frowned for a moment as he thought. “Well,” he said finally, “short of swimming across the canal, which no one in his right mind would want to do, especially at this time of year, I’d say from the lane through the woods directly to the west. There’s a lay-by, if my memory serves me well. And it’s only about a hundred yards from there to the boats, whereas it’s nearly half a mile up to where the lane meets the B-road at the top.”
The fire engines had parked where the lane turned sharply right to follow the canal, Banks remembered, and he and A
“In summer, plenty, but it’s generally quiet this time of year.”
“What about around the branch? Any strangers there?”
“I live a mile away. I don’t spy on them. I sometimes saw them when I cycled by on the towpath, that’s all.”
“But you saw the fire?”
“Could hardly miss it, could I?”
“How not?”
Hurst stood up. “Follow me.” He looked at A
A
Hurst turned and looked at Banks as if he were mad. “But that’s different, isn’t it?”
Banks and A
But Hurst was right. From his bedroom window, you could see clearly along the canal side, west, in the direction of the dead-end branch. It was impossible to see very far now, because of the fog, but last night had been clear until early morning. Hurst wouldn’t have been able to see the branch itself because of the trees, but Banks had no doubt at all that it would have been impossible for him to miss the flames as he went to draw the curtains at bedtime.
“What were you wearing?” Banks asked.
“Wearing?”
“Yes. Your clothes. When you cycled out to the fire.”
“Oh, I see. Jeans, shirt and a thick woolly jumper. And an anorak.”
“Are those the jeans you’re wearing now?”
“No. I changed.”
“Where are they?”
“My clothes?”
“Yes, Mr. Hurst. We’ll need them for testing.”
“But surely you can’t think…?”
“The clothes?”
“I had to wash them,” said Hurst. “They smelled so bad, with the smoke and all.”
Banks looked again at the pile of laundry waiting to be washed, then he looked back at Hurst. “You’re telling me you’ve already washed the clothes you were wearing last night?”
“Well, yes… When I got home. I know it might seem a bit strange, but how was I to know you’d want them for testing?”
“What about your anorak?”
“That, too.”
“You washed your anorak?”
Hurst swallowed. “The label said it was machine washable.”
Banks sighed. Traces of accelerant might well survive the firefighters’ hoses, but they used only cold water. He doubted that anything would survive washing powder and hot water. “We’ll take them anyway,” he said. “What about your shoes? I suppose you put them in the washing machine as well?”
“Don’t be absurd.”
“Let’s be thankful for small mercies, then,” Banks said as they set off downstairs. “What time do you usually go to bed?”
“Whenever I want. Another advantage of the bachelor life. Last night, I happened to be watching a rather good film.”
“What was it?”
“Ah, the old police trick to see if I’m lying, is it? Well, I don’t have an alibi, it’s true. I was by myself all evening. All day, in fact. But I did watch A Bridge Too Far on Sky Cinema. War films are another passion of mine.”
Hurst led them into the tiny kitchen, which smelled vaguely of sour milk. The anorak lay over the back of a chair, still a little damp, and the rest of his clothes were in the dryer. Hurst dug out a carrier bag and Banks bundled the lot inside, along with the shoes from a mat in the hallway.
“What time did the film finish?” he asked, as they returned to the living room.
“One o’clock. Or five past one, or something. They never seem to end quite on the hour, do they?”
“So when you looked out of your bedroom window around one o’clock-”
“It would have been perhaps one-fifteen by the time I’d locked up and done my ablutions.”
Ablutions. Banks hadn’t heard that word in years. “Okay,” he went on. “At one-fifteen, when you looked out of your bedroom window, what did you see?”
“Why, flames, of course.”
“And you knew where they were coming from?”
“Immediately. Those wooden boats are death traps. The wood above the water line’s as dry as tinder.”
“So you knew exactly what was happening?”
“Yes, of course.”
“What did you do?”
“I got on my bike and rode down the towpath.”
“How long did it take?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t timing myself.”
“Roughly? Five minutes? Ten minutes?”
“Well, I’m not that fast a cyclist. It’s not as if I was going in for the Tour de France or something.”
“Say ten minutes, then?”
“If you like.”
“What did you do next?”
“I rang the fire brigade, of course.”
“From where?”
He tapped his pocket. “My mobile. I always carry it with me. Just in case… well, the Waterways people like to know what’s going on.”
“Do you work for British Waterways?”
“Not technically. I mean, I’m not officially employed by them. I just try to be of use. If those narrow boats hadn’t been in such sorry shape, and if they hadn’t been moored in such an out-of-the-way place, I’m sure BW would have done something about them by now.”
“What time did you make the call?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Would it surprise you to know that your call was logged at one thirty-one A.M.?”
“If you say so.”
“I do. That’s fifteen minutes after you first saw the flames and cycled to the boats.”
Hurst blinked. “Yes.”
“And what did you do after you rang them?”
“I waited for them to come.”
“You didn’t try to do anything in the meantime?”
“Like what?”
“See if there was anyone still on the boats.”
“Do you think I’m insane? Even the firefighters couldn’t risk boarding either of the boats until they’d sprayed water on them, and they were wearing protective clothing.”