“He’ll manage. And we’ll stick by him. We won’t let him down.”
“Admirable sentiments. But it might not be enough. Where did you live before you bought this place?”
Surprised, Seth had to think for a moment. “Hebden Bridge. Why?”
“Where did you get the money from, for the farm?”
“If it’s any of your business, I saved some and inherited a little from a dotty aunt. We … I also had a small business there, which I sold-a secondhand bookshop.”
“What kind of work did you do?”
“This kind.” Seth gestured around the workshop. “I was a jack-of-all-trades, showed the true Thatcherite entrepreneurial spirit. I made good money for good work. I still do.”
“Who ran the bookshop, then?”
“My wife.” Seth spoke between his teeth and turned back to his wood.
“There was some kind of accident, wasn’t there?” Banks said. “Your wife?” He knew some of the details but wanted to see how Seth reacted.
Seth took a deep breath. “Yes, there was. But it’s still none of your business.”
“What happened?”
“Like you said. I had a wife. There was an accident.”
“What kind?”
“She was hit by a car.”
“I’m sorry.”
Seth turned on him. “Why? Why the bloody hell should you be sorry? You didn’t even know Alison. Just get the fuck out and let me get on with my work. I’ve nothing more to say to you.”
Banks lingered at the doorway. “One more thing: Elizabeth Dale. Is that name familiar to you?”
“I know someone called Liz Dale, yes.”
“She’s the woman who ran off from the mental hospital and ended up here, isn’t she?”
“Why ask if you know already?”
204
“I wasn’t sure, but I thought so. Do you know anything about a complaint she made against PC Gill?”
“No. Why should I?”
“She used his number: 1139.”
“So?”
“Bit of a coincidence, that’s all: her complaint, his number in your notebook.
Could she have written it?”
“I suppose so. But so could anyone else. I really don’t know anything about it.”
Seth sounded tired.
“Have you seen her recently? Has she been up here in the past few weeks?”
“No.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“We’ve lost touch. It happens.”
Seth bent over the pine again and Banks left, avoiding the house by using the side gate. In the car, he contemplated going to the barn to talk to Rick and Zoe. But they could wait. He’d had enough of Maggie’s Farm for one day.
II
Burgess winked at Glenys, who smiled and blushed. Banks was the only one to notice Cyril’s expression darken. They carried their drinks and ploughman’s lunches back to the table.
“How’s Boyd?” Burgess asked.
“He’s all right. I didn’t know you cared.”
Burgess spat the remains of a pickled onion into his napkin: “Bloody awful stuff. Gives me heartburn.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re developing an ulcer,” Banks said, “the way you go at life.”
Burgess grinned. “You only live once.”
“Are you going to stick around and see what happens?”
“I’ll stay a few more days, yes.” He eyed Glenys again. “I’m not quite finished up here yet.”
“Don’t tell me you’re getting to like the north?”
“At least the bloody weather’s improved, even if the people haven’t.”
