Clayton cleared a stack of computer magazines from a hard-backed chair. Banks almost asked him what the diagrams on the screens were, but he knew that either Clayton wouldn’t tell him or he wouldn’t understand anyway. Best not start off looking like an ignoramus.
Sheets of paper hissed as they slid out of a laser printer. One of the computers started to emit a loud, pulsating beep. Clayton excused himself while he went over and hit a few keys.
“Diagnostic programs,” he said when he got back.
Well, that was clear enough, Banks thought. Even he knew what diagnostic programs were. Though what they were supposed to diagnose was another matter entirely.
“Computers,” Clayton went on. “They’ve changed the world, Chief Inspector. Nothing is the same as when you and I were children. And they’re still changing it. Believe me, in the not-too-distant future, nothing will be the same as it is now. But I don’t suppose you came here to talk technology with me, did you? Are you coming to apologize?”
“What for?”
“For letting the bastard who killed Deborah slip through the cracks. I was there, you know, in court with Geoff and Sylvie. They’re devastated. And I’ve hardly been able to concentrate on my work since then. How could you let it happen?”
Banks shrugged. “I’ve seen it happen more often than you have. We’re not living in a perfect world.”
“You can say that again. I don’t know what the procedure is now, but if I can help in any way…” Clayton scratched his smooth chin. “Look, I’ve heard one or two disturbing rumors about this Pierce fellow beating up young girls and raping them. Is that true?”
“I can’t comment on that,” said Banks.
“But there is some evidence that wasn’t admissible, isn’t there? Something that might have got him convicted if it had been heard in the trial?”
“The judge rules on matters of law,” Banks said. “So there might be a strong basis for the appeal. That’s really all I can tell you at the moment.”
Clayton paused and glanced quickly around at the computer screens. “Well, Chief Inspector, thank you for bringing me up to date. Can I help in any way?”
Banks leaned forward. “As a matter of fact, there is something. One of the results of the court’s decision is that we have decided to reopen the case and examine some of the other angles again.”
Clayton frowned. “I don’t understand. Did you get the right man or didn’t you?”
“The jury thinks we didn’t.”
“But what about you. You know more about him than you’re ever allowed to tell the jury. What do you think?”
Banks was getting sick of that question. Now he knew what defense barristers felt when people kept asking them how they could possibly defend people they knew must be guilty. “I didn’t see him do it,” he said, “so there’s always room for doubt.”
Clayton snorted. “So just because the justice system fouls up yet again, you’re going to run around reopening old wounds.”
“I hoped you might look at it as co-operation,” Banks said.
“About what?”
“John Spinks, for a start.”
“That moron who caused all the trouble last summer?”
“That’s the one.”
“Sylvie told you about him?”
“Yes. And I talked to him again yesterday.”
“You surely don’t think he could have done it?”
“It’s possible,” Banks said.
“He doesn’t have either the guts or the brains.”
“Since when did it take brains to murder someone? Outside a detective novel, that is.”
“It takes brains to do it and get away with it.”
“Brains or luck.”
Clayton shrugged. “No point in arguing. Look at it that way and anything’s possible. He was certainly angry at her about what happened. I imagine anger is a familiar enough part of his limited emotional range. I suppose he could have laid in wait for her and lost his temper.”
“Did he know she attended the chess club?”
“How should I know?”
“Somehow, I doubt it,” said Banks. “Not if he hadn’t been seeing her after term started. Anyway, that’s beside the point. As you say, he would know the route she took and he could have simply lain in wait in the foggy graveyard ever since school came out. Now, as I understand it, Spinks came to Sir Geoffrey’s house to extort money from Lady Sylvie Harrison, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And you hit him.”
“No more than a little cuff. You’re not going to arrest me for assault and battery are you?”
Banks smiled. “No. Believe me, sir, I’ve felt like doing the same thing myself on more than one occasion.”
“Then you understand my feelings about him.”
“Entirely. You hit him, and later you paid him off?”
“Yes. It seemed the easiest way.”
“How much did you give him?”
“A hundred pounds.”
“That was all?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t come back for more?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Clayton leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees. “Because I told him that if he did, I would certainly inform Sir Geoffrey, who would at the very least have him horsewhipped, no matter what vile threats he made.” Clayton frowned and sat back. “You say you talked to Spinks again? Why? Was this in connection with reopening the case?”
“Not really. No, it was coincidence. He stole a car and crashed it.”
“Pity he didn’t break his neck. Serves the little bastard right.”
“I suppose so,” Banks said. He paused, feeling his heartbeat speed up. “What were you doing here when Spinks came?”
“What do you mean?”
“I got the impression that you’re here an awful lot. Especially when Sir Geoffrey is out and his wife is at home.”
Clayton’s mouth dropped open and he started shaking his head very slowly. “My God, you’ve got a mind like a sewer,” he said. “I don’t believe it. On the basis of that you’re suggesting…” He put his fingertips to his temple. “Let me get this clear…Your theory is that Sylvie and I were having a torrid affair and Deborah found out and threatened to tell her father. Instead of allowing that to happen, I waited for Deborah, my own goddaughter, in the graveyard after her school chess club one day and strangled her. Is that your theory?”
“I hadn’t thought it out that far,” Banks said. “I was just trying to get the lie of the land, that’s all. But I must admit you’ve got a way of reducing things to their essentials. Thank you for putting it so succinctly.”
Clayton stood up. His face was red. “This is insane, Banks. You’re clutching at straws. I think you’d better leave now.”
“I was just on my way. But I do have one more question.”
Clayton gritted his teeth. “Very well.”
“About the kind of work HarClay Industries does. Some of it is highly secret, isn’t it, MoD stuff?”
“Yes. So?”
“Is there any chance that Deborah might have stumbled across something she shouldn’t have, say in her
