“So what did you do?”
“After we’d finished with the car we went back to my house. My mum was out, as usual, and I was feeling a bit randy by then, after a nice fast drive. I fancied a bit of the other, but she went all funny, like she did sometimes, and after a while I didn’t even want it any more. She had a way like that, you know. She could be really off-putting, really cold.”
“The computer, John?”
“Yeah, well once Deb got it going I couldn’t drag her away from it.”
“What about the password?”
“Whatever it was, if there was one, it didn’t take her very long. I will say this, though, she seemed a bit surprised at how easy it was.”
“The password?”
“Whatever it took to get the bloody thing going.”
“What did she say?”
“‘Well, bugger me!’ Not exactly those words, mind you, but that was the feeling. She didn’t like to swear didn’t Deb. More like gosh or golly or something.”
“And then?”
Spinks shrugged. “Then she just played around with it for a while. I got bored and went upstairs for a lie-down.”
“Was she still playing with it when you went back down?”
“Just finishing. It looked like she was taking something out of it. One of those little square things, what do you call them?”
“A diskette?”
“That’s right.”
“Where did she get it from?”
“I don’t know. The computer was in a carrying case and there were a whole bunch of them there, in little pockets, like. I suppose that’s where she got it from.”
“What did she do with it?”
“Put it in her pocket.”
“Any idea what was on it?”
“No. I asked her what she was up to but she told me to mind my own business.”
“Did she do anything else with computer?”
“Yeah. She tapped a few keys, watched the screen for a while, smiled to herself, funny like, then turned it off.”
“And then?”
“She told me I could sell it if I wanted and keep the money.” He looked towards Gristhorpe. “I mean, she practically gave it to me, right? And it was in the family. Well, he was her godfather, anyway. That has to count, doesn’t it.”
“It’s all right,” Gristhorpe assured him. “You’re doing fine. Just keep on answering the questions as fully and as honestly as you can.”
Spinks nodded.
“Did she tell you at any time what she’d found on the computer?”
“No. I mean, I didn’t pester her about it. I could tell she didn’t want to say anything. If you ask me she found out he’d been fiddling the books or something.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Stands to reason, doesn’t it?”
“Did she ever refer to the incident again?”
“No. Well, it wasn’t much more than a week or so later when her mother caught us in bed. Then it was cards for me. On your bike, mate.”
“Do you know if Michael Clayton ever found out that you took it, or that Deborah used it?”
“I certainly didn’t tell him. Maybe Deb did, but neither of them ever said anything to me about it.”
“And you got your seventy-five quid?”
“Right.”
“Is there anything else?”
“No, that’s everything. I’ve told you everything.” He looked at Gristhorpe. “Can I go now?”
“Alan?”
Banks nodded.
“Aye, lad,” said Gristhorpe. “Off you go.”
“You won’t forget our deal, will you?”
Gristhorpe shook his head. Spinks cast a triumphant grin at Banks and left.
“Christ,” said Banks. “I need a drink to get the taste of shit out of my mouth after that.”
Gristhorpe laughed. “Worth it, though, wasn’t it. Come on, I’ll buy. We’ve got a bit of thinking to do before we decide on our next move.”
But they hadn’t got further than the Starrs when Banks heard his telephone ring. He looked at his watch. Almost ten-thirty.
“I’d better take it,” he said. “Why don’t you go ahead. I’ll meet you over there.”
“I’ll wait,” said Gristhorpe. “It might be important.” They went into the office and Banks picked up the phone.
“Chief Inspector Banks?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Vjeko. Vjeko Batorac.” The voice sounded a little muffled and hoarse.
“Vjeko. What is it? Is something wrong?”
“I thought I should tell you that Ive Jelačić was just here. We fought. He hit me.”
“What happened, Vjeko? Start from the beginning.”
Vjeko took a deep breath. “Ive came here about a half an hour ago and he was a carrying a book of some kind. A notebook, I thought. It was a diary, bound in good leather, written in English. He said he thought it would make him rich. He couldn’t read English so he brought it to me to tell him what it said. He said he would give me money.” Vjeko paused. “That girl, the one who was killed, her name was Deborah Harrison, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Banks felt his grip tighten on the receiver. “Go on, Vjeko.”
“It was her diary. I asked him where he got it, but he wouldn’t tell me. He wanted me to translate for him.”
“Did you?”
“I looked at it. Then I told him it was nothing important, not worth anything, and he should leave it with me. I’d throw it away.”
“What happened then?”
“He became suspicious. He thought I’d found out something and wanted to cheat him out of his money. I think he was hoping to find someone he could blackmail. He said he’d take it to Mile. Mile can read some English, too. I said it was worthless and there was no point. He tried to snatch it from my hand. I held on and we struggled. He is stronger than me, Chief Inspector. He hit me. Dragica was screaming and little Jelena started crying. It was terrible.”
“What happened?”
“Ive ran away with the diary.”
“You said you read it?”
“Some of it.”
“What did it say?”
“If I am right, Chief Inspector, that girl was in terrible trouble. I think you should send someone to get it right away before Ive does something crazy with it.”
“Thanks, Vjeko,” Banks said, already reaching out to cut the call off. “Stay where you are. I’m calling West Yorkshire CID right now. Jelačić was heading for Mile Pavelič’s house, you said?”
VI
Owen walked up the carpeted stairs in the dark to the first-floor landing. There, he found a timer-switch on the wall and turned the light on. He knocked on the door of Flat 4, noticing it didn’t have a peep-hole, and held his breath. The odds were that, if she had friends in the building, especially friends who were in the habit of dropping by to borrow a carton of milk or to have a chat, she would open it. After all, nobody had buzzed her, and not just anyone could walk in from the street.
He heard the floor creak behind the door and saw the knob begin to turn. What if it was on a chain? What if she were living with someone? His heart beat fast. Slowly the door opened.
“Yes?” Michelle said.
No chain.
Owen pushed. Michelle fell back into the room and the door swung fully open. He shut it behind him and leaned back on it. Michelle had stumbled into her sofa. She was wearing a dark-blue robe, silky in texture, and it had come open at the front. Quickly, she wrapped it around herself and looked at him.
“You. What the hell do you want?” There was more anger than fear in her voice.
“That’s a good question, that is, after what you’ve done to me.”
“You’ve been drinking. You’re drunk.”
“So what?”
“I’m going to call the police.”
Michelle lunged for the telephone but Owen got there first and knocked it off its stand. This wasn’t going the way he had hoped. He had just wanted to talk, find out why she had it in for him, but she was making it difficult.