Riddle moved over to her and touched her shoulder hesitantly, without much warmth, it seemed. In response, Rosalind’s body stiffened, and she turned away. Banks thought he glimpsed something in her eyes as she turned – fear or confusion, perhaps. Did she suspect her husband of being involved in Emily’s death? Or was he protecting her? Whatever it was, there was something desperately out of kilter with the Riddle family.
“Did Emily speak to you of her plans for the future, Mrs. Riddle?” Banks asked, switching the direction of the interview to something he thought might be a little easier for her to deal with.
“Only that she wanted to do her A-Levels and go to university,” said Rosalind, still dabbing her eyes with the tissue. “Preferably in America. I think she wanted to get as far away from here and from us as she could.”
Out of sight, out of mind, thought Banks. And less likely to damage Riddle’s fledgling political career, if that wasn’t already damaged beyond repair. He remembered on his first visit, when the Riddles asked him to go to London and find Emily, how he had got the impression that Rosalind hadn’t particularly wanted her to come back home. He got the same impression now. “And you approved?”
“Of course I did. It’s better than her running off to London and living with some… I don’t know… some drug dealer.”
“We don’t know that he was a drug dealer,” said Banks. “In fact, Emily swore he wasn’t, and I’m inclined to believe her.”
“Well, Emily always could twist men around her little finger.”
“Not Clough. She met her match there.”
“Do you really think he could be responsible?” asked Riddle.
“Oh, yes. The impression I got is that he’s a dangerous man and he doesn’t like to be crossed.”
“But why would he want to harm her? He had no real motive.”
“I don’t know,” said Banks. “All I can say is that I’ve met him and I’m convinced he’s into something. Perhaps he did it out of sheer maliciousness, because he didn’t like to be crossed. Or perhaps he thought she knew too much about his business interests. Did she ever talk about him to you?”
“No. What are you doing about him?” Riddle asked.
“I’m going to London first thing tomorrow. Before that, I just want to find out if there are any more leads I should be following up here.” Banks paused. “Look, I had lunch with Emily the day she died and-”
“You did what?”
“She phoned and asked me to lunch, said she’d be in Eastvale. She wanted to thank me.”
“She never told us,” said Riddle, looking at Rosalind, who frowned.
“Well, your wife did say she was secretive. And given that, my next question is probably a waste of time, but when she left, she said she was going to meet someone else. Did she say anything to either of you about meeting someone in Eastvale that afternoon?”
They both shook their heads. “What did she say to you?” Rosalind asked. “Did she tell you anything?”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Anything that might help explain what happened.”
“Only that she thought she’d seen one of Clough’s men in Eastvale. I gather she didn’t mention that to you?”
“No,” said Rosalind.
“When did you last see her yesterday?”
“We didn’t,” Riddle answered. “Both Ros and I had gone to work long before she got up that morning, and when we got back she was out.”
“So the last time you saw her was Wednesday?”
“Yes.”
“Did she phone anyone or get any phone calls?”
“Not that I know of,” said Riddle. “Ros?”
Rosalind shook her head.
“Did she spend much time on the telephone while she was up here?”
“Not a lot, no.”
“Do I have your permission to ask British Telecom for a record of your telephone calls since Emily came home?”
“Of course,” said Riddle. “I’ll see to it myself.”
“That’s all right, sir. I’ll put DC Templeton on it. Did she have any visitors from London, make any trips back down there?”
“Not that we know of, no,” said Riddle.
“Are you both sure there’s no one else you can think of who I should be looking closely at for this?”
“No,” said Riddle, after a moment’s pause for thought. “Not up here. As Ros said, she hung around with a group. They were probably with her at the club. You can talk to them and ascertain whether you think any of them had anything to do with it.”
“We’ve already talked to them, but we’ll follow up on that. I must say, on first impressions I don’t think any of them are responsible. Do you know where she got her drugs?”
It was Rosalind who answered. “I told you that I don’t think she was taking drugs since she came back.”
“Are you certain?”
“Not completely. But… I…” She glanced at her husband and blushed before she went on. “I searched her room once. And once or twice, I looked in her handbag. I found nothing.”
“Well, she was definitely taking cocaine the night she died,” said Banks.
“Maybe it was her first time since London?”
“When you searched her handbag, Mrs. Riddle, did you come across a driving license and an age-verification card?”
Rosalind looked puzzled. “A driving license? Good Lord, no. Emily was too young to drive. Besides, I didn’t look in her purse.”
“I’m not saying she did actually drive a car, but when she was found, the officer at the scene found a driving license in her handbag and thought it was hers. He also found one of those cards the clubs issue as proof of age, though they’re nothing of the kind. That’s why there was some confusion over the identity at first.”
“It doesn’t mean anything to me,” said Rosalind. “I don’t understand.”
“What about the name Ruth Walker?”
Banks saw a strange look flash in across Rosalind’s eyes, perhaps the surprise of recognition, but it was gone so fast that he didn’t trust his own judgment. She pressed her lips tight together. “No.”
“She was another friend of Emily’s in London. Apparently this Ruth met her in the street and took her in when she first arrived. You didn’t know about that?”
“No.”
“What about Craig Newton? Ring any bells?”
“Who was he?”
“Her first boyfriend in London. There was a bit of trouble between him and Clough. He seemed a decent enough lad when I talked to him, but he might have been jealous, and he might have held a grudge against Emily for ditching him. She told me he’d been following her around and pestering her.” Banks stood up. “Clearly I’m going to find more answers down there. For the moment, though, are you certain neither of you can think of anyone who would want to harm Emily?”
They both shook their heads.
Banks looked at Riddle. “You’re a policeman, sir,” he said. “Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge against you?”
“Oh, come on, Banks. You know I’ve hardly been fighting in the trenches for years. That’s not a chief constable’s job.”
“Even so…?”
“No, I can’t think of anyone offhand.”
“Would you check through your previous arrests, no matter how old? Just for form’s sake.”
“Of course.” Riddle saw Banks to the door. “You’ll keep in touch, won’t you?” he said, grasping Banks’s arm tightly. “I’ve been advised to stay away from the office for the time being, so I’m taking a leave of absence. But I’m sure I could be more effective there. Anyway, the moment you know, I want to know. Understand? The
