“Then why did you run off and warn him?”
“Because I thought you’d pick on him if the knife had been 166
found here. Jack Crocker works these moors. I knew when I saw him he couldn’t have found it far away.”
“Plausible,” Banks said. “But I’m not convinced. You weren’t at the demo, were you?”
“No. It’s not that I don’t believe in the cause, but somebody had to stay home and look after the children.”
“You didn’t put them to bed early and sneak out?”
“Are you accusing me?”
“I’m asking you.”
“Well, I don’t know how you’d expect me to do that. The others had taken the van and it’s a good four miles’ walk across the moor to Eastvale.”
“So that leaves Paul, Zoe, Seth and Rick. Seth and Rick were arrested, but if Paul had picked up the knife at the demo, either one of them could have stabbed Gill, too.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Did Osmond or any of the others dislike you enough to want to put the blame on one of you?”
“I don’t think so. Nobody had reason to hate us that much.”
“If you really hadn’t noticed the knife for some time, someone else could have taken it earlier, couldn’t they? Did you have any visitors during the week?”
“I … I don’t remember.”
“Do you keep the place securely locked up?”
“You must be joking. We’ve nothing worth stealing.”
“Think about it. You see my problem, don’t you? How it becomes more complicated if we leave Boyd out of it. And if someone did take the knife, there’s premeditation involved. Do you know of anyone with a reason to murder PC Gill?”
“No.”
“Was he mentioned that afternoon up at the farm?”
“Not that I heard. But I was in and out. You know, making tea, clearing up.”
Banks drank some more Black Sheep bitter. “Does the number 1139 mean anything to you?”
Mara frowned. The lines curved down from each side of her forehead and converged at the bridge of her nose. “No,”
167
she said. “At least I don’t think so. Why? Where did you find it?”
“It’s not part of an address or a telephone number, for example?”
“I’ve told you, no. Not that I know of. It sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it.”
“Have you ever heard of the Rossghyll Guest House?”
“Yes, it’s up the dale. Why?”
Banks watched her expression closely and saw no sign that the place meant anything to her. “Never mind. Let me know if anything comes to you. It might be important.”
Mara finished her drink and shifted in her chair. “Is there anything else?”
“Just one thing. It looks bad for Paul, running off like this. I know I can’t ask you to turn him in, even if you do know where he is. But it really would be best for him if he gave himself up. Is there any chance of that?”
“It’s unlikely. He’s scared of the police, especially that bastard of a superintendent you’ve got.” She shook her head. “I don’t think he’ll turn himself in.”
“If you hear from him, tell him what I said. Tell him I promise he’ll get a fair deal.”
Mara nodded slowly. “I don’t think it’ll do much good, though,” she said. “He won’t believe me. He doesn’t trust us now any more than he trusts you.”
“Why not?”
“He knows I suspected him, just for a while. Paul’s had so little love in his life he finds it hard enough to trust people in the first place. If they let him down, even in the slightest, then that’s it.”
“Still,” Banks said, “if you get the chance, put in a word.”
“I’ll tell him. But I don’t think any of us are likely to hear from Paul again.
Can I go now?”
“Wait a moment and I’ll give you a lift.” Banks still had half a pint left and made to finish it off.
Mara stood up. “No, I’ll walk. The shop’s not far, and I could do with some fresh air.”
“Are you sure?”
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