“Did you trust her?”
“For the most part. Emily wasn’t malicious, though she could be unpredictable. You know, at her age, I wasn’t much different. If we’d been contemporaries, who knows, we might have been friends.”
“I can only imagine the havoc the two of you might have wreaked.”
Rosalind smiled her Emily smile again. “Yes.”
“Did she know about the blackmail?”
“Good Lord, no. At least, she never said anything about it. And I doubt that’s something Ruth would have admitted to her half-sister. Emily was very headstrong and irresponsible, but she was honest at the bottom of it all. I can’t see her condoning what Ruth was doing if she knew about it.”
That made sense. But what if Emily had found out on her own? “Why tell me all this now?” he asked.
Rosalind shrugged. “A lot of reasons. Jerry’s death. Your finding him. Your bringing Emily back. You know, for better or for worse, you’ve become part of our lives this last while. I had to tell someone and I couldn’t think of anyone else. Isn’t that pathetic? Ever since Emily came home, I’ve been going crazy keeping it to myself, but I couldn’t risk telling you then. Not while Jerry was alive. I know you didn’t like him, but I know that you policemen stick together. And anything you discover often makes its way into the papers. I’m not saying you would have said anything, but…”
“The walls have ears?”
“Something like that.”
“And now?”
“It doesn’t matter now, does it? Nothing matters now. Apart from my anger, I just feel empty.” She put her glass aside and stood up. “Now I really must go. I’ve said what I came to say. Thank you for listening.”
As Annie was about to turn left into Banks’s drive just before Gratly Bridge, a car shot out backward and swung toward her so fast she had to floor the brake pedal to avoid a collision. The other car then set off down the hill toward Helmthorpe.
Heart beating fast, Annie turned left and drove slowly up to Banks’s cottage. She could see him silhouetted in the open door, wearing only a shirt and jeans despite the cold.
Annie pulled up in front and got out.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Banks said.
“That’s a nice welcome. Can I come in?”
He stood aside. “You might as well. Everyone else does.”
Annie had come prepared to launch right into him, having pumped herself up on the drive, but the adrenaline surge of her near accident and Banks’s offhand manner took some of the wind out of her sails. Inside the cottage, she sat down in the armchair. It was still warm from whoever had just left it.
“And what can I do for you?” Banks said, shutting the door and going over to put more peat on the fire.
“First you can get me a drink.” Annie nodded toward the low table. “That wine will do just fine.”
Banks went into the kitchen, got another glass and poured her some wine.
“Who was that?” she asked, taking the glass.
“Who?”
“The person who just left like a bat out of hell. The person who damn near backed right into me.”
“Oh, that person. Rosalind Riddle.”
“Friend of yours?”
“Work.”
“Work? Oh, well, I can see why you wouldn’t want to tell me anything about it, then. After all, I’m only your DIO, aren’t I?”
“Knock off the sarcasm, Annie. It doesn’t suit you. Of course I was going to tell you.”
“Like you tell me everything?”
“Come again?”
“Oh, you know what I mean.”
“Humor me.”
“Rosalind Riddle is work like her daughter was work, right?”
“I don’t get it. What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything.” Annie told him about leafing through the green sheets and finding the reference to the Hotel Fifty-Five. “No further action, or so Winsome told me. So I wondered why I hadn’t heard anything about it. I phoned the hotel and, lo and behold, who spent most of a night there together a month ago?”
Banks said nothing; he just gazed sheepishly into the fire.
“What’s the matter?” Annie went on. “Cat got your tongue?”
“I don’t see why I should have to explain myself to you.”
“Oh, you don’t, don’t you? I’ll tell you why. Murder. That’s why. Emily Riddle was murdered last week, or have you forgotten that?” As she spoke, Annie felt the embers of her anger start to rekindle again. “Now, after the things I’ve discovered, I don’t think you’re fit to be working the case, but I’m your DIO and you owe me at least the fucking courtesy of telling me the truth about your relationship with the victim.”
“There was no relationship.”
“Liar.”
“Annie, there-”
“Liar.”
“Will you let me talk?”
“If you tell the truth.”
“I am telling the truth.”
“Liar.”
“All right. So I liked Emily. So what? I don’t know why. She was a pain in the arse. But I liked her. That’s all. More like a daughter than anything. That’s as far as it went. It was my job to find her in London. She got herself into a bit of bother at a party and the only place she knew to come was to the hotel. I’d given her a card with the name written on, so she could contact me if she decided to come home. She was scared and alone and she came there. It’s as simple as that.”
“What bother?”
Banks told her about the incident with Andy Pandy at the party.
“And you didn’t see fit to share this tidbit of information with me, your DIO?” Annie shook her head. “I can’t believe it. What else have you been keeping me in the dark about?”
“Nothing, Annie. Look, I know it was wrong of me, but surely you can see why I was worried how it might appear?”
“How it might appear? Emily Riddle turns up at your room at three o’clock in the morning and stays there the rest of the night, and you’re worried about how it might appear. Oh, yes, I think I can see why.”
“Surely you can’t think…?”
“What else am I supposed to think? You tell me. You spend the night in a hotel room with a randy sixteen-year-old slut, and you want me to believe nothing happened? Do you think I was born yesterday?”
“Emily Riddle wasn’t a slut.”
“Oh, pardon me! Isn’t that grand? Coming to the defense of your poor damsel in distress.”
“Annie, the girl’s dead. At least you could show-”
“Show what? Respect?”
“Yes.”
“Were you showing her respect when you slept with her in that hotel room?”
“Annie, I’ve told you. I didn’t sleep with her.”
“And I don’t believe you. Oh, maybe you only intended to comfort her, give her a little cuddle, tell her everything was all right now, but from what I’ve heard of her, and from what I know about men, I very much doubt it ended there.”
“I never touched her.”
“You should have got her a room of her own.”
“I was going to, but she fell asleep on the bed.”
“Oh, come on.”
“She did. She was stoned. That’s exactly what happened.”
“And you? Where were you? I remember those rooms. They’re not very big.”
“In the armchair by the window. I sat up for a while listening to some music on the Walkman, then I spent the rest of the night listening to her snoring while I was trying to get to sleep, if you must know.”
Annie said nothing. She was trying to work out whether he was telling the truth or not. She suspected that he probably was, but she was determined not to let him off the hook that easily. However much it hurt or upset Annie, whether Banks had slept with Emily Riddle or not wasn’t the real issue, she told herself. He could sleep with whomever he damn well pleased, even if it happened to be a sixteen-year-old girl. Annie had no hold over him. What really mattered was that he had kept important information from her, as he had done before in this investigation, and she was beginning to find it harder and harder to trust him.