on a narrow bed.
“Megan’s fine, nurse says,” Dr. Green whispered. “But she’s had a terrible shock and she’s been given a mild tranquillizer, so please go slowly.”
Banks nodded. There clearly wasn’t room for all of them in the cubicle, yet Dr. Green seemed to want to stay.
“It’s all right,” Banks said, ushering Susan to Megan’s bedside chair. “We’ll find our own way out when we’ve finished.”
Dr. Green stood for a moment and frowned, then she nodded, turned on her heel and clicked away down the corridor.
When Banks found a chair for himself, Susan was already talking to Megan, reassuring her that everything would be all right. From what Banks could see of the head poking above the gray blanket, Megan was a slight, thin girl of about Deborah Harrison’s age, with dark curly hair and a tanned complexion.
But Megan’s features lacked whatever cohesion or symmetry it took to make her conventionally pretty, unlike her friend Deborah, who had been beautiful in that lissom, blonde, athletic sort of way. Megan’s nose was a little too big, and slightly crooked; her lips were too thin, and her mouth was too small for her teeth. But her big, serious earthbrown eyes were striking; they seemed to capture you at first glance and draw you to her.
Banks introduced himself, noting that Megan seemed comfortable enough in the presence of a male policeman, and said he wanted to ask her a few questions about Deborah. Megan nodded, eyes turning a little glassy at the mention of her friend’s name.
“Were you very close friends?” he began.
She nodded. “We’re both day-girls and we’ve known each other for years. We both live in the same area.”
“I thought you must be boarding,” said Banks. “Why aren’t you at home?”
“I had a dizzy spell at assembly, then I…I got all upset. Nurse says I should rest here for a while, then I can go home at lunch-time. There’ll be nobody there, anyway. Mummy’s away in America and Daddy’s at work.”
“I see. Now can you tell me what happened yesterday after the chess club. Go as slowly as you want, there’s no hurry.”
Megan chewed her lower lip, then began. “Well, when we’d put all the boards and pieces away in the cupboard and made sure the room was tidy, we left the school-”
“Was this the main building?”
“Yes. We hold the chess club in one of the upstairs classrooms.”
“What time?”
“Just before six o’clock.”
“How many attended last night?”
“Only eight. Lesley and Carol are doing a play with the theatre department, so they had rehearsals. The others are all boarders.”
“I see. Was there anyone else around?”
“A few people, coming and going, as usual. The school is always well lit and there are always people around.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“Well, we walked down the drive to Kendal Road. There’s only one main gate, you see. The school’s surrounded by woods, and there’s the river on the west side. It was so foggy we could hardly see the trees around us. I must admit I was getting a bit scared, but Debs seemed to be enjoying herself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, she liked things like that. Spooky things. She liked to tell ghost stories in graveyards, just for fun.”
“Do you know if she ever went inside the Inchcliffe Mausoleum?”
“She never said anything to me about it if she did.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“We crossed the road. I live on St. Mary’s Hill, behind the shops, so Debs and I always said goodbye at the bridge.” She put her hand over her eyes.
“Take it easy,” Susan said. “Take your time.” When Banks looked down, he noticed that Megan was gripping Susan’s hand at the side of the bed.
Megan took a deep breath and went on. “That’s all,” she said. “We said goodbye. Debs was running backwards, just showing off, like, then she disappeared into the fog.” She frowned.
“Was there something else?” Banks asked. “Did you notice anyone else around?”
“Well, like I said, it was so foggy you couldn’t really see more than a few feet, but I saw a shape behind her. I remember thinking at the time there was something odd about it, but I put it down to the way Debs had been scaring me with her stories of ghosts taking shape from the fog.”
“You mean you thought you were imagining it?”
“Yes. Seeing things. But I know I wasn’t, if that makes any sense.”
“You’re doing fine, Megan. What kind of shape was it?”
“It was a man’s shape. A tall man.”
“What was he doing?”
“Nothing. He was just standing on the bridge looking down the river towards the town.” She paused and her eyes lit up. “That’s it. That’s what was strange. He was looking over the bridge towards the town, but he couldn’t possibly see anything, could he, because of the fog. So why was he standing there?”
“Did you think that at the time?”
“No. It just came to me.”
“Did you see what he looked like?”
“Not really, because of the fog. I mean, he was like a silhouette, a dark figure. His features weren’t clear, and he was in profile. He did have a bit of a big nose, though.”
“Could you see what he was wearing?”
“An anorak, I think. A bright color. Orange or red, maybe.”
“Did you see him approach Deborah?”
“No. He was just behind her. I don’t think she’d seen him because she was still running backwards and waving goodbye. I remember thinking if she wasn’t careful she’d bump into him and that would give her a shock, but I really didn’t think much of it. I mean, it wasn’t the only person we’d seen.”
“Who else did you see?”
“Just ordinary people, you know, crossing the road and such. I mean, life goes on, doesn’t it? Just because it’s foggy you can’t stop doing everything, can you?”
“That’s true,” said Banks. “Can you remember anything else?”
Megan squeezed her eyes shut. “I think he had dark hair,” she said. “Then I turned away and went home. I never thought anything of it. Until…until this morning, when I heard…I should have known something was going to happen, shouldn’t I?”
“How could you?”
“I just should. Poor Debs. It could have been me. It should have been me.”
“Don’t be silly, Megan.”
“But it’s true! Debs was so good, so wonderful and pretty and talented. And just look at me. I’m nothing. I’m not pretty. She should have lived. I’m the one who should have died. It’s not fair. Why does God always take the best?”
“I don’t know the answer to that,” Banks replied softly. “But I do know that every life is important, every life has its value, and nobody has the right to decide who lives and who dies.”
“Only God.”
“Only God,” Banks repeated, and blew his nose in the ensuing silence.
Megan took a tissue from the box on the table beside her and wiped her eyes. “I must look a sight,” she said.
Banks smiled. “Just like me first thing in the morning,” he said. “Now, when we found Deborah, she had about six pounds in her purse. Did she ever have a lot of money to flash around?”
“Money? No. None of us ever carried more than a few pounds.”
“Do you know if she kept anything valuable in her satchel?”
