“It’s a rather delicate matter,” Banks said.
“Oh, I think I’m used to those, don’t you? As long as you don’t expect me to give away any secrets.”
“Wouldn’t think of it,” said Banks. “Actually, there are a couple of things. First of all, do you know a woman called Maggie, or Margaret, Forrest?”
“The name rings a bell. I believe we do some legal work for her, yes. Not, I hasten to add, criminal. That’s my area. The other members of the firm cover a wide range of legal services. I believe Ms.
Forrest is a client of Constance’s.”
“Have you spoken with her recently?”
“Not personally, no.”
“Perhaps I could talk to Constance?”
“I don’t think that would help,” said Julia. “My associates and partners are all just as discreet as I am.”
“Somebody hasn’t been,” Banks said.
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you implying?”
“Your office knew from the start that Karen Drew was Lucy Payne.
You arranged for the name change, the false reason for her quadriple-gia, the transfer to Mapston Hall. Whatever else Lucy Payne was, she was your client. You took care of all her affairs.”
“Of course. That was what we were engaged to do. I don’t see what your point is.”
“Someone found out and killed Lucy.”
“But surely other people knew? You’re not trying to blame the firm for what happened, are you?”
3 5 6 P E T E R
R O B I N S O N
“We’ve talked to everyone else.” Banks paused. “It comes back to you, Julia. You can help us out here.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“We think that Lucy Payne was killed either by Maggie Forrest or by the same woman who killed two men in the same area eighteen years ago. Her name is Kirsten Farrow, though it’s very unlikely she goes under that name now. A hair on Lucy’s blanket has been matched with hairs taken from Kirsten eighteen years ago. The hair from the blanket has also yielded DNA, which is currently being pro cessed. It would really help us a lot if we could find out who knew that Karen was Lucy, and where that information might have gone. Did you or someone else in your firm tell Maggie Forrest?”
“Well,
“Come on, Julia. This is important. People are dead.”
“They usually are when you turn up.”
“A policeman is dead.”
Julia touched her hair. “Yes. I was sorry to hear about that. I wish I could help.”
“Have you ever heard of Kirsten Farrow, the woman I just mentioned?”
“Never.”
“She’d be about forty now. About your age.”
“I already told you f lattery would get you nowhere.”
“Do you know Dr. Elizabeth Wallace?”
Julia seemed surprised. “Liz? Yes, of course. We go back years.
Why?”
“She’s our pathologist, that’s all.”
“I know. She always was a bright spark. I’m sure she’s very good at her job, especially if her golf game is anything to go by.”
“Do you also know a psychiatrist called Dr. Susan Simms?”
“I’ve met her. For crying out loud, her office is just across the square. We’ve had lunch together now and then, when our paths have crossed.”
“How have your paths crossed?”
F R I E N D O F T H E D E V I L
3 5 7
“In court, on occasion. I don’t think it’s any secret that she sometimes does forensic psychiatry.”
“Does she also know Dr. Wallace?”
“How would I know?”
“Maggie Forrest was one of her patients.”
“What can I say? It’s a small world. I really don’t know where you’re going with this, Alan, but I
can’t tell you anything.” She
