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A
Under her clothes, and the jacket protecting the back of her neck, A
The kidnapper might turn up, but would A
In the end, A
It was a plan, and it beat lying around up here melting in the sun.
Now that it was time to confess, Banks was finding it more difficult than he had imagined. He knew he was stalling, playing for time, when what he should do was just come right out with it, but his mouth felt dry, and the words stuck in his throat. He sipped some beer. It didn’t help much. Sweat tickled the back of his neck and ran down his spine.
“We were playing down by the river,” he said, “not far from the city center. It wasn’t developed quite as much as it is today, so it was a pretty desolate stretch of water.”
“Who was playing with you?”
“Just Paul and Steve.”
“Go on.”
“It was nothing, really,” Banks said, embarrassed at how slight the events that had haunted him for years now seemed on this bright afternoon sitting under a beech tree with an attractive woman. But there was no backing out now. “We were throwing stones in the water, skimming, that sort of thing. Then we moved down the riverbank a bit and found some bigger stones and bricks. We started chucking those in to make a big splash. At least I did. Steve and Paul were a bit farther down. Anyway, I was holding this big rock to my chest with both hands – it took all my strength – when I noticed this tall, scruffy sort of bloke walking along the riverbank toward me.”
“What did you do?”
“Held on to it,” said Banks. “So I didn’t splash him. Always the polite little bugger, I was. I remember smiling as he got nearer, you know, showing him I was holding off dropping the rock until he was out of range.” Banks paused and drew on his cigarette. “Next thing I knew,” he went on, “he’d grabbed hold of me from behind and I’d dropped the rock and splashed us both.”
“What happened? What did he do?”
“We struggled. I thought he was trying to push me in, but I managed to dig in my heels. I might not have been very big, but I was wiry and strong. I think my resistance surprised him. I remember smelling his sweat and I think he’d been drinking. Beer. I remembered smelling it on my father’s breath when he came back from the pub sometimes.”
Michelle took her notebook out. “Can you give me a description?”
“He had a ragged dark beard. His hair was greasy and long, longer than usual back then. It was black. Like Rasputin. And he wore one of those army greatcoats. I remember thinking when I saw him coming that he must be hot in such a heavy overcoat.”
“When was this?”
“Late June. It was a nice day, sort of like today.”
“So what happened?”
“He tried to drag me away, toward the bushes, but I managed to squirm out of his grasp, one arm at any rate, and he swung me around, swore at me and punched me in the face. The momentum broke me loose, so I ran.”
“Where were your friends?”
“Back up by the road by then. A good hundred yards away. Watching.”
“Didn’t they help you?”
“They were scared.”
“They didn’t call the police?”
“It all happened so fast. When I got free, I ran off and joined them and we never looked back. We decided not to say anything to our parents because we weren’t supposed to be playing down by the river in the first place, and we were supposed to be at school. We thought we’d get into trouble.”
“I can imagine you did. What did your parents say about your face?”
“They weren’t too pleased. I told them I’d got into a bit of a scrap at school. All in all, I suppose it was a lucky escape. I tried to put it out of my mind, but…”
“You couldn’t?”
“Off and on. There’s been lengthy periods of my life when I haven’t thought of it at all.”
“Why do you see a co
“It seemed too much of a coincidence, that’s all,” said Banks. “First this pervert trying to push me in the river, dragging me into the bushes, then Graham disappearing like that.”
“Well,” said Michelle, finishing her drink and closing her notebook, “I’d better go and see if I can find any trace of your mystery man, hadn’t I?”
Chapter 6
Showered and dressed in crisp, clean clothes, A
“Right,” said Gristhorpe after he had asked her to sit down. “Now, tell me what the hell’s going on out Mortsett way.”
A
Gristhorpe waved his large hairy hand. “I’m not questioning your judgment. I want to know what you think is happening.”
A
“But you didn’t?”
“No, sir. Something wasn’t right. In my opinion, Luke Armitage wasn’t to be considered ‘found’ until I’d seen him with my own eyes and talked to him.”
“Fair enough. What happened next?”
“As you know, sir, I went out to see the family again this morning. I got the distinct impression they didn’t want me there, that something was going on.” A
“Do you think he saw you? The kidnapper.”
“It’s possible,” A
“And risk leaving the money out there all day?”
“It’s off the beaten track. And most people follow the government regulations.”
“What else?”
“Pardon, sir.”
“You said ‘either.’ To me, that implies an ‘or.’ I interrupted you. Go on. What else do you think might have happened?”
“Maybe something has gone wrong, something we don’t know about.”