Owen said nothing. Susan pushed the other package forward. “Now this,” Banks said, “contains hair samples taken from Deborah Harrison’s school blazer. Oddly enough, some of these hairs have been positively identified as yours, again matched with the samples you freely allowed us to take the other day.” Banks sat back and folded his arms. “I think you’ve got quite a bit of explaining to do, haven’t you, Owen?”
“You’re trying to set me up. Those hairs aren’t mine. They can’t be. You’re lying to get me to confess, aren’t you?”
“Confess to what, Owen?”
Owen smiled. “You’re not going to catch me out as easily as that.”
Banks leaned forward and rested his palm on the desk. “Read my lips, Owen,” he said. “We’re not lying. The hairs are yours.”
Owen ran his hand through his hair. “Wait a minute. There must be some simple explanation for this. There’s got to be.”
“I hope so,” said Banks. “I’d really like to hear it.”
Owen bit his lip and concentrated. “The only thing I can think of,” he said after a few moments, “is that when I was on the bridge, someone bumped into me. It all happened so fast. I was turning from looking over the river, and she knocked the wind out of me. I didn’t get a really good look because she disappeared into the fog and I only saw her from behind, but I think she had long fair hair and wore a maroon blazer and skirt. It could have been her, couldn’t it? That could have been how it happened, couldn’t it?”
Banks frowned and looked through the notes in front of him. “I don’t understand, Owen. When you talked to DI Stott and DS Hatchley you didn’t say anything about this.”
“I know.” Owen looked away. “At first I just forgot, then, well…when I remembered, when I’d seen the paper and knew why they’d been questioning me…Well, I’d already not said anything, so I suppose I was worried it would look bad if I spoke up then.”
“Look bad? But how could it, Owen? How could it look bad if you simply said the girl might have bumped into you? What were you afraid of?”
“Yes, but I mean, if it really had been Deborah Harrison…I don’t know. Besides, I couldn’t be sure it was her. It just seemed like the best thing to do at the time. Keep quiet. It didn’t seem important. I’m sorry if it caused you any problems.”
“Caused us any problems? Not really, Owen. But it has caused you quite a few. It’s funny you should mention it now, though, isn’t it, now we’ve matched the hair samples?”
“Yes, well…I told you. Look, you can check, can’t you? Didn’t her friend see me? I could just see her through the fog.”
Banks tapped the two envelopes. “What if she did see you? That doesn’t help your case at all, does it? In fact, it makes things worse.”
“But I never denied being on the bridge.”
“No. But you led us to believe you didn’t see Deborah Harrison. Now you’re changing your story. I’d like to know why.”
“I was confused, that’s all.”
“I understand that, Owen. But why didn’t you tell the detectives who first interviewed you that you’d seen Deborah that night?”
“I told you. It slipped my mind. After all, I had no idea why the detectives were talking to me. Then later, when I knew…well, I was worried that this was exactly the kind of thing that would happen if I did tell you, that you would misconstrue it.”
“Misconstrue?”
“Yes. Misinterpret, distort, misunderstand.”
“I know what the word means, Owen,” said Banks. “I don’t need a bloody thesaurus, thank you very much. I just don’t see how it applies in your case.”
“I’m sorry. Just put it down to an English teacher’s pedantry. What I mean is, I thought you’d read more into it, that’s all. When you get right down to it, it’s not very much in the way of evidence, is it? You have to admit.” Owen attempted a smile, but it came out crooked. “I mean, a couple of hairs. Hardly enough to stand up in court, is it?”
“Don’t get clever with me, sonny.”
“I…I wasn’t. I was just pointing out, that’s all.”
“But we don’t know how the hairs got where they did, do we?”
“That’s what I’m saying. Maybe it happened when she bumped into me.”
“If it was her who bumped into you.”
“I can’t think of any other explanation.”
“But I can. See, you’ve lied to us before, Owen. To DI Stott and DS Hatchley. Why should we believe you now?”
Owen swallowed. His Adam’s apple bumped up and down. “Lied?”
“Well, you never told us about seeing Deborah, or about bumping into her for that matter. That’s a lie of a kind, isn’t it? You might call it a lie of omission. And you also said you didn’t know the girl in the photo, but you do know her, don’t you?”
“No. I-”
Banks sighed. “Look, Owen, I’m giving you a chance to dig yourself out of this hole before it’s too late. We’ve talked to the landlord of the Nag’s Head again, showed him the picture of this ‘model.’ He says you’ve been in the pub with her on a number of occasions. He’s seen you together. What do you have to say about that?”
Banks noticed the sweat start beading on Owen’s forehead. “All right, I know her. Knew her. But I don’t see how it’s relevant in any way. She was my girlfriend. We lived together. Does that satisfy you?”
“Who is she? Where is she now? What happened to her?”
Owen put his hands over his ears. “I don’t believe I’m hearing this. Surely you can’t think that I’ve killed Michelle, too?”
“Too? As well as who?”
“For Christ’s sake. It’s a figure of speech.”
“I’d have thought a pedantic English teacher like yourself would be more careful with his figures of speech.”
“Yes, well, I’m upset.”
“This Michelle, what happened?”
“We lived together for nearly five years, then we split up over the summer. Simple as that.”
“And where is she now?”
“She lives in London. In Swiss Cottage.”
“Why did you split up?”
“Why does anyone split up?”
“Irreconcilable differences?” Banks suggested.
Owen laughed harshly. “Yes. That’ll do. Irreconcilable differences. You could call it that.”
“What would you call it?”
“It’s none of your business. But there is something else. It’s got nothing to do with this at all, but if it’ll help…”
“Yes?”
“Well, it’s the reason I was out walking. It was the anniversary. The anniversary of the day we met. I was a little down, a bit sad. We used to go for walks by the river, as far as St. Mary’s, or even further, and we’d sometimes drop in at the Nag’s Head to wet our whistles. So I just went for that long walk to get it out of my system.”
“You were upset?”
“Of course I was upset. I loved her.”
“And did you get it out of your system?”
“To a certain extent.”
“How did you get it out of your system?”
“Oh, this is absurd. You’ve got a one-track mind. There’s no point talking to you any more.”
“Maybe not, Owen. But you’ve got to admit things are looking pretty bleak. You lied to us four times.” He counted them off on his fingers. “Once about why you were out walking, once about never meeting Deborah Harrison, once about not knowing the girl in the photo and once again about never having lived with anyone. All lies, Owen. You see what a position it puts me in?”
“But they were all so…such small lies. Yes, all right, I lied. I admit it. But that’s all. I haven’t harmed anyone.”
At that point came the soft knock at the door that Banks had arranged earlier. He turned off the tape recorders and told the person to come in. DI Stott entered, nodded quickly at Owen Pierce and apologized for disturbing them. Then he handed a report to Banks and stood by the door.