‘I knew something serious was up when we had those two murders here,’ Fletcher went on, refilling their beer glasses. ‘That detective and young Bernard Allen. I knew it, but I didn’t know what. Whenever I asked, Stephen clammed up, told me to leave it be and I’d be better off not knowing.’ He took a sip of beer. ‘Maybe I should’ve pushed a bit harder. Maybe Stephen would still be alive… But I don’t think he killed himself. That’s what I wanted to tell you. As I said, I saw Nicholas putting something into his drink, and he was in a hell of a state at closing time, worse than if he’d just had a few jars. And the next thing I hear, he’s dead. An overdose, they said. I knew he took sleeping tablets, but an overdose…?’
‘Yes, barbiturates,’ Banks said. ‘Usually fatal, mixed with as much alcohol as Stephen Collier had in his system.’
‘So it’s murder, isn’t it? That bastard brother of his murdered him.’
‘It looks like it, Mr Fletcher, but we’ve got to tread carefully. We’ve got no evidence, no proof.’
‘I’ll testify to what I saw. I’ll help put him away, as God’s my witness.’
Banks shook his head. ‘It’ll help, but it’s not enough. What if Nicholas was putting vodka in his brother’s beer? As you said, it could have been a simple prank, and that’s exactly what he’ll say. It’s all circumstantial and theoretical. We need more solid evidence or a confession.’
‘Then I’ll bloody well beat it out of him,’ Fletcher said, grasping the table and rising to his feet.
‘Sit down,’ said Banks. ‘That’s not going to help at all.’
‘Then what are you going to do?’
‘I honestly don’t know yet,’ Banks said. ‘We might just be able to put together a case, especially if we bring in Anne Ralston, but I don’t want to risk it. Even if we could convince the court it’s worth a risk, I don’t want to take the chance of him getting off, which he might well do on what we’ve got so far.’
‘I know I should’ve spoken up earlier,’ Fletcher said. ‘I knew there was something wrong. If I’d told you before you went to Toronto, you might have had something to push at Stephen with, and he just might have told you the truth. He was on the edge, Mr Banks. That’s why Nicholas had to get rid of him, I suppose.’
‘I think you’re right,’ Banks said. ‘But we still can’t prove it. You shouldn’t blame yourself though. You might have thought you were going to get Stephen in trouble. I imagine you were protecting him?’
Fletcher nodded. ‘I suppose I was. Him and his father’s memory.’
‘To get Nicholas, you’d have had to betray Stephen. He was protecting his brother, or his father, like you were.’
‘What’ll happen to me? Will you prosecute?’
‘For what?’
‘Withholding evidence? Accessory after the fact?’
Banks laughed. ‘You have a very thin grasp of the law, Mr Fletcher. Sure, you could have spoken earlier, as could a number of other people around Stephen Collier. But he kept everyone just enough in the dark so there was nothing, really, to say — nothing but vague fears and suspicions. Believe me, few people come to us with those; they don’t want to look silly.’
‘So nothing’s going to happen to me?’
Banks stood up and gestured to Hatchley that it was time to leave. ‘No. You’ve helped us. It’s up to us now to put a case together, or set a trap.’
‘I’ll do anything to help,’ Fletcher said. ‘Tell the bastard I know something and let him come and try to bump me off.’
‘I hope it doesn’t come to that,’ Banks said, ‘but thanks for the offer.’
They sat in the car for a few minutes and lit cigarettes. It was pitch-black, and far down in the valley below the lights of Swainshead glittered like an alley of stars.
‘How hard should we push Collier?’ Hatchley asked.
‘We don’t push,’ Banks said. ‘At least not the first time. I told you, he’s clever. He’ll see we’re desperate.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘We confront him with what we’ve got and try to trip him up. If he’s too clever to fall for that, and I suspect he is, then we try again and keep trying.’ He started the engine and broke the silence.
‘You can’t help admiring the bastard’s nerve though, can you,’ Hatchley said. ‘What if Freddie Metcalfe and Richmond had remembered seeing him order vodka and pour it in Stephen’s pints?’
‘Then all he’d have had to say was that he played a practical joke, like Fletcher said. There’s nothing illegal about chasers. As things stand, it’s only Fletcher’s word against his, and a good defence lawyer would soon prove that John Fletcher had more than just cause to want to incriminate Collier. They’d bring up the incident at the party, for a start. Could you imagine Katie Greenock on the stand?’
Hatchley shook his head. ‘That lass never seems to know whether she’s coming or going.’
For some reason, Banks began to feel uneasy at the thought of Katie. What if she really did know more than she was telling? And what if Nicholas Collier suspected she knew? He might easily have seen her talking to Stephen. And Katie was exactly the kind of woman to set off his violent sexual behaviour.
He turned on to the road and headed south for Swainshead. There was still no light on in Collier’s house. Hatchley hammered at the door but got no answer.
‘Let’s try the pub,’ Banks suggested.
Hatchley brightened up at that. He hadn’t completely forgotten his priorities in a burst of professional zeal.
‘Well, if it isn’t Chief Inspector Banks,’ Freddie Metcalfe greeted them. ‘And Sergeant Hatchley, isn’t it? What can I do for you?’
Banks ordered two pints of Pedigree and lit a Silk Cut. Maybe a pint would calm down his jangling nerves. The hairs at the back of his neck were bristling.
‘Seen Nicholas Collier tonight?’ he asked.
‘No, he’s not been in,’ Freddie said. ‘Has tha got any further wi’ t’ murder?’
‘We’re getting there, we’re getting there,’ Banks said.
‘Aye, and pigs can fly,’ Freddie said, passing their drinks.
‘None of the usual lot been in tonight?’
‘Nope. It’s been as quiet as this since opening time,’ Freddie answered miserably, and loped off to serve a youth in hiking boots.
‘You know,’ Banks said, ‘I’ve been thinking about what to do next, and there’s someone else we might profit from leaning on in this case.’
‘Sam Greenock?’ Hatchley said.
‘Yes. Threaten him with arrest as an accessory, and we might just get him to open up. He’s cocky, but I don’t think he’s as cool as Nicholas. Stephen Collier’s dead now. If we can convince Sam that Nicholas will fall from grace with or without his help, we might be able to strike a bargain. After all, without gentry to suck up to, what’s Sam going to get out of it? Nicholas might well have sawn off the branch he was sitting on by killing Stephen.’
‘It’s an idea,’ Hatchley said.
‘And Greenock’s a bully,’ Banks said. ‘Bullies are the easiest of the lot to lean on, especially men who beat up their wives.’
‘I think I might be able to work up a bit of enthusiasm,’ Hatchley said, grinning.
‘Good. Let’s go.’
‘What? Now? But we haven’t finished our drinks.’
‘I’ve just got a feeling, that’s all. We can come back to them. Let’s see if Sam’s in.’
They left the White Rose and crossed the bridge. There were no lights on in the front lower or upper rooms of the Greenock Guest House.
‘He’s not in,’ Hatchley said. ‘Let’s go back to the pub and call again later.’
‘It looks like there’s nobody in at all,’ Banks said. ‘That’s odd.’ He couldn’t explain why he felt disturbed by the dark silent house, but he couldn’t ignore the feeling. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m going in.’