“I see.” Gristhorpe eased back in his chair. “And what made you stop in such a godforsaken place?”
“I needed to … you know, call of nature.”
“Were you by yourself?”
“Yes.”
Gristhorpe sniffed a lie, but he left it al .ie.
“Why did you wait so long before coming here? You must have known what you’d found. It’s been in all the papers.”
“I know. I just thought … It was very late. And I didn’t want to get involved.” He leaned forward. “And I was right, wasn’t I? I decide to help, and here I am being interrogated like a suspect.”
“Mr Hudson,” said Gristhorpe, “in the first place, you’re not being interrogated, you’re simply being questioned, and in the second place, a child is missing, perhaps dead. How would you treat someone who walks in here, drops a bundle of what looks like the child’s clothes and then tries to scarper?”
“I didn’t try to scarper. I just wanted you to have the clothes, in case there was a clue. As I said, I didn’t want to get involved. I thought of putting them in the post, but I knew that would take too long. I know how important time is in things like this, so I finally decided to come forward.”
“Well, thank you very much, Mr Hudson.”
“Look, if I really had done anything to that child, I’d hardly have come in here at all, would I?”
Gristhorpe fixed Hudson with his baby-blue eyes. “Psychopaths are unpredictable, Mark,” he said. “We never know what they’ll do next, or why they do it.”
“For God’s sake!”
“Where’s the girl, Mark?”
Hudson hesitated, looked away. “What girl?”
“Come on, Mark. You know who 1 mean. The girl who was with you. Your accomplice.”
“Accomplice?”
“Miss Peterson. Where is she?”
“I’ve never heard of anyone called Peterson.”
Gristhorpe gave that one a “maybe.” “Where’s Gemma Scupham?”
“Please, you’ve got to believe me. I don’t know anything. I had nothing to do with it. I’m just trying to do my civic duty.”
Gristhorpe let the staring match continue until Hudson looked down at the stained metal desk, then he asked, “Can you remember exactly where you found the bundle of clothing?”
Hudson rubbed his damp forehead. “I was thinking about that on my way here,” he said. “That you might want to know.”
“It could be useful. We still haven’t found the girl’s body.”
“Yes, well … I could try. I mean, I think I might remember if I saw the spot again. But it was dark and it’s pretty bleak up there. I must admit after I found the clothes I didn’t want to hang around.”
“And you were no doubt under the influence of Bacchus?”
“What?”
“You’d been drinking.”
“I’d had a little wine, yes. But I wasn’t over the limit, if that’s what you mean.”
“I don’t care how much you had to drink,” said Gristhorpe, standing up. “Although judging by your eyes this morning I’d say you’re a bloody liar. It’s your memory I’m concerned about. What I want you to do is to take me to the spot where you found the clothes. I’ll go with you in your car and DS Richmond here will follow. All right?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“No,” said Gristhorpe. “No, you don’t.”
II
Gristhorpe said nothing during the journey. They crawled
up Sutton Bank into the Hambleton Hills, passed through
Helmsley, then turned off the main road into Hutton-le Hole. On the broad village green, split by Button Beck,
the sides connected by a small white bridge, tourists ate
picnics. Several sheep also picnicked from the grass itself,
keeping their distance from the humans. It was a
marvel of work-saving, Gristhorpe thought, letting the
sheep wander the village and keep the green well
cropped.
Beyond Button, they turned north onto a narrow, unfenced road over the desolate moors.
“I’d have more chance if we were going the other way,” Hudson said. “I mean, that was the way I was driving, and it was very dark.”
“Don’t worry,” said Gristhorpe, “you’ll get your chance.”
