And will you introduce me to Brian?”
Banks looked back at her. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said.
12
BY LATE THURSDAY AFTERNOON, ANNIE HAD HAD
quite enough of Eastvale Comprehensive and the East Side Estate’s problems. She didn’t want a drink, but she did want a bit of peace and quiet, so she bought a Britvic Orange and hid herself away in the back room of the Horse and Hounds. As usual, there was no one else around but she. It was dim and cool, the perfect place to collect her thoughts and perhaps have another quiet chat with Banks on her mobile.
Though she still wasn’t convinced by Banks’s wild theories, she was beginning to believe that there was something odd about Derek Wyman and his whole relationship with Mark Hardcastle. What had he got out of it? Was it really just a matter of two film and theater buffs having a drink and a chat every now and then? A couple of anoraks together? Or was there something more ominous behind it? If Wyman really was concerned about Hardcastle’s plan for a professional acting group, then why did he act as if they were the best of friends?
It might be worth having a word with Carol Wyman alone, Annie thought. Better not get caught, though. Superintendent Gervaise wouldn’t take kindly to her moonlighting for Banks. They’d be tarred by the same brush, if they weren’t already. And for what? A half-baked theory based on a Shakespeare play that, even if it was true, couldn’t lead to any criminal charges that she was aware of. Still, Annie had to 2 1 8
P E T E R R O B I N S O N
admit that she was intrigued by the whole business, and there were enough niggling doubts in her mind to make her willing to take the occasional risk.
The first item on the agenda, though, was to phone Banks, if he was available. Annie found his last call in the log and pressed the call button. It rang. When Banks answered, she could hear traffic in the background.
“Where are you?” she asked. “Are you driving? Can you talk?”
“I can talk,” said Banks. “I’m just entering Soho Square. Hang on a minute. I’ll sit on the grass.” There was a short pause, then he came back on the line. “That’s better. Okay, what is it?”
“I just thought we should get up to date, that’s all. I talked to Derek Wyman in the school staff room. We were asking him about Nicky Haskell and the stabbing, but on the way out I let him know he’d been seen with Mark Hardcastle in the Red Rooster.”
“And?”
“He got very stroppy indeed. Told me I should mind my own business and he had a right to drink anywhere and with anyone he wanted.
Well, words to that effect.”
“The strain’s showing?”
“I’d say that, yes. Assuming you’re right about this, the Iago business and all that—and I’m not saying you
“I’m still with you. I think.”
“Well, have you thought how it changes things?”
“In what way?”
“If Derek Wyman did poison Mark Hardcastle against Laurence Silbert—”
“There’s no ‘if ’ about it, Annie. He did. I just found the private detective he hired to follow Silbert and take the photos.”
Annie practically dropped her phone. “He did what?”
“He hired a private detective. Which is quite a luxury on his part, because he wasn’t exactly rolling in money. You should have seen the B-and-B he stayed at in Victoria. Definitely cheap and cheerful. But I imagine he had no choice. With school duties and everything, he couldn’t get down to London as often as he would have liked. And I’ll A L L T H E C O L O R S O F D A R K N E S S
2 1 9
bet he didn’t want to be recognized, either. Remember, he
“So what happened?”
“This woman followed Silbert from the Bloomsbury pied-a-terre to Regent’s Park, where he met a bloke on a bench, then the two of them carried on to the house in Saint John’s Wood. Wyman wasn’t interested in what they were doing together, apparently, or in anything other than the photos. That’s all he wanted, Annie. Photos of Silbert with another man. Evidence.”
“So it could have been completely innocent?”
“I doubt it. The pictures are ambiguous, to say the least. They meet on a park bench, walk and go into a house. There’s no hand holding or anything. The only time they touch is when Silbert precedes the other man into the house. But I’d say with Iago’s powers of persuasion they made pretty good icing on the cake.”
“So what were Silbert and his pal up to?”
“My guess is that they were probably working on something together. Some intelligence service project or other. I’ve been to that house and the old couple who own it are definitely dodgy. The sweet little old lady lied to me through her teeth, which leads me to believe she’s one of them, too, rather than the madam of a posh shag pad.”
“So he was still spying? He hadn’t retired?”
“Something like that. Or he was working for the other side, whoever that is. But imagine what it would seem like to Hardcastle, Annie, especially with the help of Wyman’s sly innuendos and graphic images.”
