Past Reason Hated

FIVE

Banks switched off Milhaud’s ‘Creation’ as he pulled up outside Faith Green’s block of flats. It was a small unit, only three stories high, with six flats on each floor. He looked at his watch: 8.50. Plenty of time for Faith to have come home from the Crooked Billet, if she hadn’t gone out on a date.

Luckily, she was in. When he knocked, he heard someone cross the room and saw the tiny peephole in the door darken.

‘Inspector Banks!’ Faith said as she pulled the door open with a dramatic flourish. ‘What a surprise. Do come in. Let me take your coat.’ She hung up his coat, then took his arm and led him into the spacious living room. A number of framed posters from old movies hung on the pastel-green walls: Bogart in Casablanca, Garbo in Camille, John Garfield and Lana Turner in The Postman Always Rings Twice. Faith gestured towards the modular sofa that covered almost two walls, and Banks sat down.

‘Drink?’

‘Maybe just a small Scotch, if you have it.’

‘Of course.’ Faith opened up a glass-fronted cocktail cabinet and poured them both drinks. Banks’s was about two fingers taller than he would have liked.

‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ Faith asked in her husky voice. ‘If only you’d told me you were coming, I could have at least put my face on. I must look terrible.’

She didn’t. With her beautiful eyes and silvery, pageboy hair, it would have been difficult for Faith Green to look terrible. She wore no make-up, but that didn’t matter. Her high cheekbones needed no highlights, her full, pink lips no colouring. In skin-tight black slacks and a dark-green silk blouse, her figure, slim at the waist, nicely curved at the hips and well-rounded at the bust, looked terrific. The perfume she wore was the same one Banks remembered from their brief chat at the Crooked Billet – very subtle, with a hint of jasmine.

She settled close to Banks on the sofa and cradled a glass of white wine in her hands. ‘You should have phoned first,’ she said. ‘I gave you my number.’

‘Maybe you didn’t know I was married.’

She laughed. ‘I’ve never known that to make very much difference to men.’ Given the way she was sitting and looking at him, he could well believe her. He fiddled for his cigarettes.

‘Oh, you’re not going to smoke, are you?’ She pouted. ‘Please don’t. It’s not that I’m so anti, but I just can’t bear my flat smelling of smoke. Please?’

Banks removed his hand from his jacket pocket and took a long swig of Scotch. He waited until the pleasant burning sensation had subsided, then said, ‘Remember the last time we talked? About how things were going between the people in the play?’

‘Of course I do.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘I told you I liked my men dark and handsome, and not necessarily tall.’

If Banks had been wearing a tie, he would have loosened it at this point. ‘Miss Green-’

‘Faith, please. It’s not such a bad name, is it? There are three of us, sisters, but my parents never were that well up on the Bible. The youngest’s called Chastity.’

Banks laughed. ‘Faith it is, then. You told me you had no idea that Caroline Hartley was a lesbian. Are you sure you didn’t?’

Faith frowned. ‘Of course not. What an odd question. She didn’t walk around with it written on her forehead. Besides, it’s not as obvious in a woman as it sometimes is in a man, is it? I mean, I’ve known a few homosexuals, and most of them don’t mince around and lisp, but you have to admit that some conform to the stereotype. How could you possibly tell with a woman unless she went about dressed like a man or something?’

‘Perhaps you would just sense it?’

‘Well, I didn’t. Not with Caroline. And she certainly didn’t walk around dressed like a man.’

‘So she told no one?’

‘Not as far as I know, she didn’t. She certainly didn’t tell me. I can’t vouch for the others. Another drink?’

Banks looked at his glass, amazed to find it empty so soon. ‘No thanks.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Faith said, and took it from him. She brought it back only slightly fuller than the last time and sat about six inches closer. Banks held his ground.

‘There’s something missing,’ he said. ‘Some factor, maybe just a little thing, and I’m trying to find out what it is. I get the feeling that people – you especially – are holding something back, hiding something.’

‘Little me? Hiding something? Like what?’ She spread her hands and looked down as if to indicate that all she had was on display. She wasn’t far from the truth.

‘I don’t know. Do you think there might be a chance that Caroline Hartley was having an affair with someone other than the woman she was living with, perhaps someone in the theatre company?’

Faith stared at him, then backed away a few inches, burst out laughing and pointed at her chest. ‘Me? You think I’m a lesbian?’

Given the situation, her physical closeness and the heady aura of sex that seemed to emanate from her, it did seem rather a silly thing to think.

‘Not you specifically,’ Banks said. ‘Anyone.’

When Faith had stopped laughing, she moved closer again and said, ‘Well, I can assure you I’m not.’ She shifted her legs. The material swished as her thighs brushed together. ‘In fact, if you let me, I can even prove to you I’m not.’

Banks held her gaze. ‘It’s quite possible for a person to be bisexual,’ he said. ‘Especially if he or she is over-sexed to start with.’

Faith seemed to recede several feet into the distance, though she hadn’t moved at all. ‘I ought to be insulted,’ she said with a pout, ‘but I’m not. Disappointed in you, yes, but not insulted. Do you really think I’m over-sexed?’

Banks put his thumb and forefinger close together and smiled. ‘Maybe just a little bit.’

All the seductiveness, the heat and smell of sexuality, had gone from her ma

‘I didn’t mean it as an insult,’ Banks went on. ‘It just seemed the best way to cut the games and get down to business. I really do need information. That’s why I’m here.’

Faith nodded, then smiled. ‘All right, I’ll play fair. But I’m not just all talk, you know.’ Just for a moment she upped the voltage again and Banks felt the current.

‘Could Caroline have been seeing someone?’ he asked quickly.

‘She could have been, yes. But I can’t help you there. Caroline kept herself to herself. Nobody knew anything about her private life, I’m certain. After a couple of drinks, she’d go off home-’

‘By herself?’

‘Usually. If it was an especially nasty night James would give her a lift. And before you make too much out of that, he would take Teresa too, and drop her off last.’ She paused for effect, then added huskily. ‘At his place, sometimes.’

‘Teresa told me she didn’t care about James’s attraction to Caroline. What would you say about that?’

Faith put a slender finger to her lips, then said. ‘Well, I wouldn’t quite put it that way. I don’t like to tell tales out of school, but…’

‘But what? It could be important.’

‘Teresa’s very emotional.’

‘You mean she fought with Caroline?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘With James Conran?’

Faith swirled her drink and nodded slowly. ‘I heard them talking once or twice,’ she said. ‘Caroline’s name came up.’

‘In what way?’

Faith lowered her voice and leaned closer to Banks. ‘Usually as that “prick-teasing little bitch.” Teresa’s a good friend,’ she added, settling back, ‘but you did say it was important.’

So Teresa Pedmore had more of a grudge against Caroline Hartley than she had cared to admit. She could have been the woman who visited Caroline’s house after Patsy Janowski. On the other hand, so could Faith Green, who was being much more circumspect about her own involvement in the thespian intrigues, if she had any. Both were a little taller than Caroline Hartley. Banks would have to have a word with Teresa later and see what she, in turn, had to say about her friend.