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“I doubt if the motive was robbery, either.” A
“And the timing is interesting,” Banks added.
“What do you mean?”
“Was he killed before or after the power cut? All the doc can tell us is that it probably happened between six and eight. One bloke left the pub at seven and came back around quarter past. The others bear this out, but nobody saw him in Lyndgarth. Banks consulted his notes. Name of Calvin Soames.”
“Soames?” said A
“That’s right,” said Banks.
“She said he’s always in the pub when she’s working. I know she was terrified of him finding out about her and Nick.”
“I’ll have a talk with him tomorrow.”
“Go carefully, Alan. He didn’t know about her and Nick Barber. Apparently he’s a very strict father.”
“That’s not such a terrible thing, is it? Anyway, I’ll do my best. But if he really did know…”
“I understand,” said A
“And don’t forget Jack Ta
“It’s being done,” said A
“Good. Now the tourist couple, the Browns, say they arrived at about a quarter to eight and thought they saw a car heading up the hill, right?”
A
“Did she get any details?”
“No. It was dark, and she doesn’t know a Honda from a Fiat.”
“Doesn’t help us much, does it?”
“It’s all we’ve got. They questioned everyone in the hostel and Vanessa’s the only one who saw anything.”
“She’s not another one been shagging our Nick, too, has she?”
A
“Hmm,” Banks said. “There seem to have been more comings and goings between half past seven and eight than there were earlier.”
“Yorkshire Electricity confirms the power went out at seven twenty-eight p.m.”
“The problem is,” Banks went on, “that if the killer came from some distance away and timed his arrival for half seven or a quarter to eight, he can’t have known there would be a power cut, so it’s not a factor.”
“Maybe it gave him an opportunity,” A
“Possibly,” said Banks. “Though the darkness would have made it a bit harder for him to search the cottage and be certain he took away everything he needed to. Also, your eyes need time to adjust. Look at the timing. Mrs. Ta
“He might have had a torch in his own vehicle.”
“He’d still have had to go and get it. There would’ve been no reason for him to be carrying one if he arrived before the power cut.”
“Does the electricity failure really matter, then?”
“I think we can assume that the killer would have done what he came to do anyway, and if the lights went out, that just gave him a better opportunity.”
“What about the Browns? Their timing is interesting.”
“Yes,” said Banks. “But do they strike you as the types to kill someone and then drop by the local pub for a pint?”
“It was dark. There was no electricity. Maybe the local was as good a place to hide as any.”
“What about blood?”
“Winsome checked after the lights came back on,” A
“True,” said Banks. “Look, we’ve still got a long way to go. You mentioned that Nick Barber was a writer?”
“That’s what Kelly said he told her.”
“Who’d want to kill a writer?”
“There were plenty I wanted to kill when I was at school doing English,” said A
Banks laughed. “But seriously.”
“Well, it depends what kind of writer he was, doesn’t it?” A
“But what was he doing up here?”
“There are plenty of cupboards full of skeletons in North Yorkshire,” countered A
“Yes, but where to begin? That’s the problem.”
“Google?” suggested A
“That’s a start.”
“And shouldn’t we be going to London?”
“Monday morning,” said Banks. “Then we’ll be able to talk to his employer, if we can find out who it is. You know how useless Sundays are for finding anything out. I’ve asked the locals to keep an eye on the place until then to make sure no one tries to get in.”
“What about next of kin?”
“Winsome sorted that, too. They live just outside Sheffield. They’ve already been informed. I thought you and Winsome could go and talk to them tomorrow.”
“Fine,” said A
“Yes?”
“It looks as if he might have bought it just over the road here. Kelly said she met him coming out of the secondhand bookshop.”
Banks consulted his watch. “Damn, it’ll be closed now.”
“Is it important?”
“Could be. It didn’t look as if the figures were written in the same hand as the price, but you never know.”
“We can ring the owner at home, I suppose.”
“Good idea,” said Banks.
“From the way you’re still sitting there, I assume you’re expecting me to do it?”
“If you would. Look, I’m sick of this bloody bitter lemon. As far as I’m concerned, we’re off duty, working on our own time, and if Lady Gervaise wants to make something of it, then good luck to her. I’m having a pint. You?”
A
Banks had to wait until a party of six tourists, who couldn’t make up their minds what they wanted to drink, had been served, and when he got back with two foaming pints of Black Sheep, A
“Interesting,” said Banks. “Very interesting indeed. We’ll just have to wait and see what young Gavin makes of it, won’t we?”
Saturday, 13th September, 1969
Yvo
It had happened the previous evening, when her father came home late from work, as usual. He’d been taking something out of his briefcase when a photograph had slipped to the floor. He’d put it back quickly and obviously thought she hadn’t seen it, but she had. It was a picture of the dead girl, the one who had been stabbed on Sunday at the Brimleigh Festival, and with a shock, Yvo