Alison frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“No sounds of a struggle, or screaming?”
“No. It was all so quiet. That’s what I remember.”
“No talking?”
“I didn’t hear any.”
“And you don’t know how long they were out there before the explosion?”
“No. I was scared and I was worried. Mum was sitting facing me. I could see how frightened she was, but I couldn’t do anything. I just felt so powerless.”
“When it was all over, did you hear any sounds then?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Try to remember. Did you hear what direction they went off in?”
“No.”
“Any sounds of a car?”
She paused. “I think I heard a car door shut, but I can’t be sure. I mean, I didn’t hear it drive away, but I think I kept sort of drifting in and out. I think I heard a sound like the slam of a car door in the distance.”
“Do you know which direction it came from?”
“Further up the daleside, I think. Relton way.”
“Good. Now, can you remember anything else about the men?”
“One of them, the one who touched me. I’ve been thinking about it. He had big brown eyes, a sort of light hazel color, and watery. There’s a word for it. Like a dog.”
“Spaniel?”
“Yes. That’s it. Spaniel eyes. Or puppy dog. He had puppy-dog eyes. But they’re usually… you know, they usually make you feel sorry for the person, but these didn’t. They were cruel.”
“Did either of the men say anything else?”
“No.”
“Did they go anywhere else in the house? Any other rooms?”
“No.”
“Did you see them take anything at all?”
Alison shook her head.
“When your father saw them and later went outside with them, how did he seem?”
“What do you mean?”
“Was he surprised?”
“When he first came in and they grabbed him, yes.”
“But after?”
“I… I don’t know. He didn’t do anything or say anything. He just stood there.”
“Do you think he recognized the men?”
“How could he? They were all covered up.”
“Did he seem surprised after the immediate shock had worn off?”
“I don’t think he did, no. Just… resigned.”
“Was he expecting them?”
“I… I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Do you think he knew them, knew why they were there?”
“How could he?”
She spoke with such disbelief that Banks wondered if she had noticed that her father really
“Maybe. No. I don’t know. He couldn’t possibly, could he?” She screwed up her eyes. “I can’t see it that clearly. I don’t want to see it clearly.”
“All right, Alison. It’s all right. I’m sorry, but I have to ask.”
“I know. I don’t mean to be a cry-baby.” She rubbed her bare arm over her eyes.
“You’re being very brave. Just one more question about what happened and then we’ll move on. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Did your father go quietly or did they have to force him?”
“No, he just walked out with them. He didn’t say anything.”
“Did he look frightened?”
“He didn’t look anything.” She reddened. “And he didn’t
“All right, Alison, calm down. How did you get free from the chair after they’d gone?”
Alison sniffled and blew her nose. “It was a long time,” she said finally. “Hours maybe. Some of the time I just sat there, but not really there, if you know what I mean. I think Mum had fainted. They’d really tied us tight and I couldn’t feel my hands properly.”
As she spoke, she rubbed at her wrists, still ringed by the burn-marks. “In the end, I tipped my chair and crawled over near the table where my mother’s sewing basket was. I knew there were scissors in there. I had to rub my hands for a long time, so they could feel properly, and I don’t know how… but in the end I cut the rope, then I untied Mum.” She shifted her position. “I’m worried about Mum. She’s not herself. She doesn’t want to eat. What’s going to happen to her?”
“I’m all right, Alison, dear. There’s no need to worry.”
The voice came from the doorway, and Banks turned for his first glance of Mrs. Rothwell. She was a tall woman with short gray hair and fine-boned, angular features, the small nose perhaps just a little too sharply chiselled. There seemed an unusually wide space, Banks thought, between her nose and her thin upper lip, which gave her tilted head a haughty, imperious aspect. Banks could see where Alison got her small mouth from.
Her chestnut-brown eyes looked dull. Tranquilizers prescribed by Dr. Burns, Banks guessed. They would help to explain her listless movements, too. Her skin was pale, as if drained of blood, though Banks could tell she had put some make-up on. In fact, she had made a great effort to look her best. She wore black silk slacks over her thin, boyish hips, and a cable-knit jumper in a rainbow pattern, which looked to Banks’s untutored eye like an exclusive design. At least he had never seen one like it before. Even in her sedated grief, there was something controlled, commanding and attention-demanding about her, a kind of tightly reined-in power.
She sat down in the other armchair, crossed her legs and clasped her hands on her lap. Banks noticed the chunky rings on her fingers: diamond clusters, a large ruby and a broad gold wedding band.
Banks introduced himself and expressed his condolences. She inclined her head slightly in acceptance.
“I’m afraid I have some difficult questions for you, Mrs. Rothwell,” he said.
“Not about last night,” she said, one bejewelled hand going to her throat. “I can’t talk about it. I feel faint, my voice goes and I just can’t talk.”
“Mummy,” said Alison. “I’ve told him about… about that. Haven’t I?” And she looked at Banks as if daring him to disagree.
“Yes,” he said. “Actually, it wasn’t that I wanted to ask about specifically. It’s just that we need more information on your husband’s movements and activities. Can you help?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, Chief Inspector. I’m not usually such a mess.” She touched her hair. “I must look dreadful.”
Banks murmured a compliment. “Did your husband have any enemies that you knew of?” he asked.
“No. None at all. But then he didn’t bore me with the details of his business. I really had no idea what kind of people he dealt with.” Her accent, Banks noticed, was Eastvale filtered through elocution lessons.
