‘Sam’s not in,’ Katie said that evening when she opened the back door to find Stephen Collier standing there. ‘He’s having a night out with his old mates in Leeds.’
‘Can’t I come in, anyway?’ Stephen asked. ‘Just for a cup of tea?’
‘All right,’ Katie said, and led him through to the spotless kitchen. ‘Just five minutes, mind you. I’ve work to be doing.’ She turned away from him and busied herself with the kettle and teapot. She felt her face burning. It wasn’t right being alone in the house with a man other than her husband, even if it was someone as pleasant as Stephen. He had a reputation as a womanizer. Everybody knew that. Someone might even have seen him coming in.
‘Nick tells me the police were around today,’ Stephen said.
Katie glanced at him over her shoulder. ‘It’s to be expected, isn’t it? One of our guests did find a dead body.’
‘He still here?’
‘No. He left this afternoon.’
‘Well,’ Stephen said. ‘I just thought I’d drop by to see if you were all right. I mean, it can be a bit of a shock to the system, something like that happening right on your doorstep, so to speak. Did the police ask a lot of questions?’
‘Not to me, no. Why should they?’
‘Just wondering,’ Stephen said. ‘How are things, anyway?’
‘All right, I suppose,’ Katie answered. Though she had known him for over five years and certainly preferred him to his brother, Katie hadn’t really spent much time alone with Stephen Collier before. Mostly, they had met socially at summer garden parties the Colliers liked to throw, in the pub and at occasional dinners. She liked Stephen. He seemed kind and thoughtful. Often at social functions she had caught him looking at her in an odd way. Not that way, not like Nicholas. It was a look she didn’t quite understand, and she had never been able to return his gaze for long without lowering her eyes. Now she was alone with him she felt shy and awkward; she didn’t really know how to behave. She brought the tea to the table and opened a packet of Fox’s Custard Creams.
‘Come on, Katie,’ Stephen said. ‘You’re not very convincing. You don’t sound all right to me.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yes, you do. I can tell. I’ve felt some sort of bond with you right from the start. I’ve been worried about you these past few months.’
‘Worried? Why?’
‘Because you’re not happy.’
‘Of course I’m happy. That’s silly.’
Stephen sighed. ‘I can’t make you open up, can I? But you can talk to me if you want, if you need to. Everybody needs somebody to talk to now and then.’
Katie bit her lower lip and said nothing. She couldn’t talk to him. She couldn’t tell anyone the things that went on in her mind, the sins she dreamed of, the desperation she felt. She couldn’t tell him about her one chance of escaping from her miserable life, and what it had already cost her.
‘Anyway,’ Stephen went on, taking a biscuit, ‘I might not be around here for much longer.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve had enough of it, Katie. The plant, the house, the village. Lord, I’m nearly thirty. It’s about time I got out and about, saw a bit of the world before I get too old.’
‘B-but you can’t,’ Katie said, shocked. ‘Surely you can’t just up and go like that? What about—’
Stephen slapped the table. ‘Oh, responsibilities be hanged,’ he said. ‘There’s plenty of others willing and able to run Collier Foods. I’ll take a long holiday, then maybe try something else.’
‘Why are you telling me all this?’ Katie asked.
Stephen looked at her, and she noticed that he suddenly looked old, much older than his twenty-eight years.
He ran his hand through his short brown hair. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I told you, we’re kindred spirits. You’re the only person I’ve told. There’s nobody else, really.’
‘But your brother…’
‘Nicky? He wouldn’t understand. He’s too wrapped up in his own world. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way he looks at you, Katie, even if Sam hasn’t. I’d stay away from him if I were you.’
‘Of course I will,’ Katie said, blushing. ‘Why shouldn’t I?’
‘Oh, he can be very persuasive, Nicky can.’
‘What about John?’ Katie asked. ‘Or Sam? Can’t you talk to them?’
Stephen laughed. ‘Look, Katie,’ he said, ‘Nicky, Sam and the rest, they’re all good drinking friends, but there are things I can’t talk to them about.’
‘But why me?’
‘Because I think it’s the same for you. I think you’re unhappy with your life and you’ve nobody to talk to about it. Why are you so afraid of talking to me? You’ve got all your problems bottled up inside you. Don’t you like me?’
Katie traced rings on the table with her forefinger. ‘It’s not that,’ she said. ‘I’m fine, really I am.’
Stephen leaned forward. ‘Why don’t you open up, show some feeling?’ he urged her.
‘I do.’
‘Not for me.’
‘It’s not right.’
‘Oh, Katie, you’re such a moralist.’ Stephen stood up to leave. ‘Would that I had your moral fibre. No, it’s all right, there’s no need to show me out.’
Katie wanted to call after him, but she couldn’t. Deep inside, she felt a thick darkness swirling and building in power, trying to force its way out. But it was evil and she had to keep it locked in. She had to accept her lot, her place in life. She was Sam’s wife. That was her duty. There was no point talking about problems. What could she say to Stephen Collier? Or he to her? Why had he come? What did he want from her? ‘The thing that all men want,’ said a strong harsh voice inside her. ‘The same thing his brother wants. Don’t be fooled by talk of companionship. Satan has a sweet tongue.’
‘But he was reaching out to you,’ another, quieter voice said, ‘reaching out in friendship, and you turned him away.’
Katie’s chest tightened and her hands shook as she tried to bring the teacup to her mouth. ‘I’m lost,’ she thought. ‘I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s right any more. Help me, someone, please help me!’ And the cup rolled to the floor and smashed as Katie laid her head on the table and wept.
4
Two days later, on 31 May, forensic information started trickling in. During that time, Richmond and Hatchley had tracked down all but two wandering Canadians who had left local hotels or guest houses between ten and thirteen days ago.
Events were moving too slowly for Banks. Most leads appear during the first twenty-four hours after a murder has taken place, but this body was about two hundred and forty hours old by the time it was found. Still they had very little to go on.
Therefore, when the first report from the forensic lab landed on his desk at ten thirty that morning, Banks drank in the information like a man stranded in a desert without water for three days.
Dr Glendenning had established that death was due to a stab wound from a single-edged blade, probably a sheath knife about six inches long. One upward thrust had penetrated the heart from beneath the ribs. After that, the face had been slashed and then beaten with a rock until it was unrecognizable. The victim was white, in his early thirties, five feet eleven inches tall, ten and a half stone in weight, and in good physical condition. That last part always irritated Banks: how could a corpse ever be in good physical condition? This one, certainly, had been about as far from it as one could get.