‘I’d say, hypothetically, that it makes you a thief.’
‘Words, Alan, just words.’
‘Actually, no. Legal concepts.’
‘Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?’
‘Here’s another one to try on for size. Murder.’
Salisbury blinked and stared at him. ‘What?’
‘You heard me, Geoff. Oh, you might have a more fancy name for it, something high-sounding and moral, such as mercy killing, but in my eyes it’s murder plain and simple.’
Salisbury sat back in his chair. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh, I think you do. There was your own mother for a start. Don’t tell me a woman who’s been a diabetic for a good part of her life doesn’t know to keep some sugar on hand in case she goes hypoglycaemic.’
Salisbury banged his fist on the chair arm. ‘That’s over and done with,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t there. Nobody ever proved anything against me!’
‘I’m not saying you haven’t been clever, Geoff. You never were there, were you? Mr Green’s faulty valve, for example. Wouldn’t be difficult for a car mechanic, would it? And what about Mrs Summerville, Geoff, gentle pillow over the face as she slept, was it? Nobody would ask too many questions. Or perhaps a little too much morphine? She was alone. You had a key. They always give you a key, don’t they? And what about the hundred quid you drew out with her bank card the day she died. Mistake, that. She couldn’t get it herself, remember – she was bedridden – and her daughter could find no sign of the money.’
Salisbury got to his feet. ‘You can’t prove a damn thing. Get out of here! Go on, get out!’
Banks didn’t move. ‘You don’t get away with it that easily, Geoff, especially not when it’s my parents you’re playing with now. I saw the piece of silver paper you folded and dropped in the bin at Mrs Summerville’s house. I’ll bet it has your prints on it.’
‘So I went there. I helped her. Like I helped the others. So what? That doesn’t prove anything.’
‘I’ll bet if we exhumed the body, though, we’d find some evidence of tampering, some evidence of what you did. She hasn’t been dead as long as the others, Geoff. There’ll be forensic evidence. In the house, too.’
For the first time, Banks saw Salisbury falter and sit down again. He knew he had been guessing, taking a stab in the dark, but it seemed to have touched a nerve. ‘She had cancer and a weak heart,’ Banks went on. ‘All it took was a little pressure. She didn’t even have the strength to fight back, did she?’
‘What do you mean forensic evidence?’ Geoff asked. ‘They’d never dig her up.’
‘Oh yes, they would. On my say-so. And you know exactly what they’d find, don’t you?’
‘But the doctor signed the death certificates. There wasn’t even an inquest, nothing suspicious at all.’
‘Why would there be, Geoff? Don’t you know how it goes? All your victims were medically attended during their illnesses, they’d all been seen by their doctors within fourteen days of death, and they were all terminally ill, likely to die at any time. There were no grounds for a coroner’s inquest. And remember: none of them was alone with family members when they died. Not even your mother. You made sure you were out of the house that night, didn’t you?’
‘This is absurd. They’ll never open up her coffin.’
‘Yes, they will. We’d just better thank the Lord that she was buried and not cremated, don’t you think? What will they find? Tell me.’
Salisbury licked his lips, staring at Banks, and said nothing for a long time. ‘You think you’re clever, don’t you?’ he said at last. ‘You don’t know nothing about it.’
‘About what?’
‘Suffering.’
‘Tell me about it, Geoff. I want to know.’
‘Why should I? You wouldn’t understand.’
‘Believe me, I’ll try. And it’ll go better for you if you do. If we don’t have to exhume the body. That’s a lot of work. And messy. Nobody wants to do it. I think we’d be able to prove a case against you, Geoff, I really do, but if you help us, if you tell me about it, it’ll go a lot easier for you.’
‘Why do you think they let me cheat them, take their money?’
Banks frowned. ‘Come again?’
‘You don’t think they didn’t know what I was doing, do you? They knew all right and they let it go on. Payment. That’s what it was. They just couldn’t come right out and say it. What they really wanted me to do. But it was their way of paying me, of letting me know what they wanted me to do.’
‘Hang on a minute, Geoff,’ said Banks. ‘Let me get this straight. Did you kill Mr Green and Mrs Summerville?’
‘Yes. No. I put them to sleep. I ended their suffering.’
‘And your mother?’
‘It was what she wanted. It was what they all wanted. It was beautiful.’
‘What was?’
Salisbury’s eyes shone. ‘The transformation. From pain to peace. Suffering to grace. It was like being God.’
‘Did either Mrs Green or anyone from the Summerville family suggest that you do what you did?’
‘Not in so many words, no.’
‘But that was how you interpreted their actions in letting you get away with stealing money?’
‘Like I said, they knew. It was their way of paying for what they wanted done. Close family couldn’t do it, could they? They’d soon be suspects, or they didn’t care enough and were never around, like you and that Summerville girl. You don’t see their suffering. I do. Day in, day out. I was their saviour. Somebody had to be.’
Banks got up.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m going to ring the local police now, and I want you to tell them what you’ve just told me. Tell them everything. Maybe you’re sick. Maybe you need help. I don’t know.’ All I do know, Banks thought as he took out his mobile, is that I want you off this estate and as far away from my parents as possible.
21
It was about an hour later when two uniformed constables and one detective sergeant, grumpy at being dragged out of the Sunday night pub darts match, arrived at Geoff Salisbury’s house.
‘You know, with all due respect to your rank and all, sir, we don’t particularly appreciate North Yorkshire CID poking around on our patch, doing our job for us,’ said the surly DS, whose name was Les Kelly and who was going prematurely bald. Luckily, Banks hadn’t encountered DS Kelly on his last trip to Peterborough.
Banks smiled to himself. It would probably have been his reaction, too, had Kelly come up north. At least it would have been if he had been a DS and ten years younger.
‘Believe me, DS Kelly, it wasn’t my intention,’ he said. ‘I just came for the party.’
‘You what?’
Banks sighed. ‘I was brought up around here. Down the street. I came home for my parents’ golden wedding and this is what I found going on.’ He gestured towards Salisbury, who was giving his statement to the uniformed officers.
‘How about we go outside for a minute?’ said Kelly. ‘The uniforms can deal with his statement, and I fancy a smoke.’
Banks and Kelly stood on the path. Kelly lit a cigarette and Banks craved one. A few locals had noted the arrival of the police and a small crowd had gathered just beyond the patrol car. Not that police cars were a novelty on the estate, but it was nearly bedtime on a Sunday.