Strange Affair

“Of course not,” said Banks, though the thought had crossed his mind. Rejection and jealousy, coupled with the emotional trauma of abortion, could be a lethal mix. She hadn’t done it herself, Banks knew, but maybe she had enough money to hire someone, and maybe she even knew how to find someone to hire. After all, she was an accountant to the entertainment world, and that was full of villains, or celebrities who liked to rub shoulders with them. But Banks had dismissed the idea as quickly as it had come into his head. Wronged lovers usually go for a more direct method, as any cop who has responded to a domestic will tell you. “Roy was chatting up his new girlfriend while you were in the doctor’s office,” Banks said. “How does that make you feel?”

Tears brimmed in her eyes. “How do you think it makes me feel?” she said. “He always was a bastard. I knew that. But I loved him.”

And this time there was no stopping her. The dam burst and the flood was unloosed. Banks went over and sat beside Cori

Cori

“I’m glad,” said Banks, “and I’m sorry if I sounded abrupt or rude.”

“It must be very frustrating for you,” Cori

“This might sound an odd question,” said Banks, “but did Roy ever tell you he’d witnessed the attacks on the World Trade Center?”

“Yes,” said Cori

“Did he ever talk to you about religion, about spiritual matters?”

“Not really, no. I mean, I knew he went to church on Sundays, and he said he liked his local vicar, but it didn’t really interfere with our life.”

“You’re not interested in spiritual matters yourself?”

“Spiritual matters, as far as I can understand them, yes. But not in organized religion. Look at the misery and bloodshed it’s caused throughout history. Still causes.”

“Did the two of you ever argue about this?”

“Yes, but we always reached an impasse, the way you do when you talk about such things. He said that was just an excuse and that it was mankind who caused the bloodshed and misery, and I said his must be a pretty rotten God if he was so all-powerful and he let it all happen anyway. We learned to stay away from the subject in the end. I mean, where do you go from there?”

Where, indeed? wondered Banks, who had been involved in one or two similar arguments himself over the years.

“He didn’t push religion on me, or on anyone else, for that matter, if that’s what you’re getting at. It was a very private thing with him. And he obviously didn’t use it to try to talk me out of having an abortion.”

“I just wondered how big a role it played in his life, that’s all.”

“Like I said, he went to church on Sunday and had a philosophical chat with the vicar every now and then.”

“Okay. Fair enough. Did he ever mention someone called Gareth Lambert, an old friend?”

“Yes, I remember him mentioning the name.”

“Did you ever meet him?”

She pulled out a tissue and blew her nose. It looked raw when she’d finished. “No,” she said. “But I heard his name.”

“Do you remember the context?”

“Roy was just talking about an old friend of his who was back in the country. They hadn’t seen each other in a long time.”

“When was this?”

“A couple of months ago. Around the time of the abortion. He said he was going to meet him for a drink at some club or other they belonged to on The Strand, talk about old times and see if there were any business opportunities. He was always on the lookout for a new angle. I’m afraid I suspected something else. I asked him who he was going out with and that’s what he told me. I didn’t believe him, though.”

“Did Roy go for that drink?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember the name of the club?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Well, it it’s any consolation, he was probably telling the truth. Did he say anything about it afterward?”

“No, not really. He was vague, as usual, and a little tipsy. He just said that he’d had an interesting time. He seemed excited about more business possibilities.”

“Did he say what?”

“No,” she said. “He was very vague.”

Something dodgy, then, Banks thought. Not arms, in all likelihood, but something crooked if Lambert was involved. He had nothing more to ask Cori

As if she were reading his mind, Cori

Banks realized that he had completely forgotten about finding somewhere to stay. He had driven to London without making any arrangements and the incident on the motorway had pushed all such practical thoughts from his mind. There was always Roy’s – he still had a key – but there was a chance the police hadn’t finished there yet.

“Don’t know,” he said. “I thought I’d just check into a hotel.”

She looked away and reddened a little. “You can stay here if you like. I mean, there’s a spare room, all made up and everything.”

The idea made Banks nervous. He knew the offer was entirely i

What really made up his mind, though, was that right at the moment he was so weary he could hardly lift himself out of the armchair, let alone hit the wet streets looking for a cheap hotel, so he said, “Thanks, that’s very good of you. That’ll be great. And I prefer red, if that’s okay?”