“Not that I know of.”
“Do you?”
“No. I can just about manage a basic point-and-shoot camera.”
“Did you go to his house often?”
“Once in a while.”
“Ever go down in the cellar?”
“No. Why?”
“Are you sure about that, Geoff?”
“Damn it, yes. Surely you can’t think…?”
“You do realize we’re carrying out a complete forensic examination of the Paynes’ cellar, don’t you?”
“So?”
“So the first rule of a crime scene is that anyone who’s been there leaves something and takes something away. If you were there, we’ll find out, that’s all. I wouldn’t want you looking guilty simply for not telling me you were there on some innocent mission, like watching a porn video together.”
“I never went down there.”
“Okay. Just so long as you know. Did the two of you ever pick up any women together?”
Brighouse’s eyes shifted toward the Bunsen burner, and he fiddled with the test tube rack in front of him.
“Mr. Brighouse? Geoff? It could be important.”
“I don’t see how.”
“Let me be the judge of that. And if you’re worried about splitting on a mate, you shouldn’t be. Your mate’s in hospital in a coma. His wife’s in the same hospital with a few cuts and bruises he inflicted on her. And we found the body of Kimberley Myers in the cellar of his house. Remember Kimberley? You probably taught her, didn’t you? I’ve just been to the postmortem of one of his previous victims and I’m still feeling a bit off-color. You don’t need to know anymore, and believe me, you don’t
Brighouse took a deep breath. Some of the bright red coloring seemed to have leached from his cheeks and brow. “Well, okay, yeah, we did. Once.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Nothing. You know…”
“No, I don’t know. Tell me,”
“Look, this is…”
“I don’t care how embarrassing it is. I want to know how he behaved with this woman you picked up. Carry on. Think of it as confiding in your doctor over a dose of clap.”
Brighouse swallowed and went on. “It was at a conference in Blackpool. In April, just over a year ago.”
“Before he got married?”
“Yeah. He was seeing Lucy, but they weren’t married then. Not till May.”
“Go on.”
“Not much to tell. There was this cracking young teacher from Aberdeen, and one night, you know, we’d all had a few drinks at the bar and got to flirting and all. Anyway, she seemed game enough after a few gins, so we went up to the room.”
“The three of you?”
“Yes. Terry and I were sharing a room. I mean, I’d have stayed away if it was his score, like, but she made it clear she didn’t mind. It was her idea. She said she’d always fancied a threesome.”
“And you?”
“It had been a fantasy of mine, yes.”
“What happened?”
“What do you think? We had sex.”
“Did she enjoy it?”
“Well, like I said, it had been mostly her idea in the first place. She was a bit drunk. We all were. She didn’t object. Really, she was keen. It was only later…”
“What was only later?”
“Look, you know what it’s like.”
“No, I don’t know what it’s like.”
“Well, Terry, he suggested a Greek sandwich. I don’t know if you-”
“I know what a Greek sandwich is. Go on.”
“But she didn’t fancy it.”
“What happened?”
“Terry can be very persuasive.”
“How? Violence?”
“No. He just doesn’t give up. He keeps on coming back to what he wants and it just wears down people’s resistance in the end.”
“So you had your Greek sandwich?”
Brighouse looked down and rubbed his fingertips on the rough, scratched lab bench. “Yeah.”
“And she was willing?”
“Sort of. I mean, yes. Nobody forced her. Not physically. We’d had a couple more drinks and Terry was at her, you know, just verbally, about how great it would be, so in the end…”
“What happened afterward?”
“Nothing, really. I mean she didn’t kick up a fuss. But it soured the mood. She cried a bit, seemed down, you know, as if she felt betrayed, used. And I could tell she didn’t like it much, when it was happening.”
“But you didn’t stop?”
“No.”
“Did she scream or tell you to stop?”
“No. I mean, she was making noises but… well, she was a real screamer to start with. I was even worried about the people next door telling us to keep the noise down.”
“What happened next?”
“She went back to her own room. We had a few more drinks, then I passed out. I assume Terry did the same.”
Banks paused and made a jotting in his notebook. “I don’t know if you realize this, Geoff, but what you’ve just told me constitutes accessory to rape.”
“Nobody raped her! I told you. She was willing enough.”
“Doesn’t sound like it to me. Two men. Her by herself. What choice did she have? She made it clear that she didn’t want to do what Terence Payne was asking for, but he went ahead and did it anyway.”
“He brought her around to his way of thinking.”
“Bollocks, Geoff. He wore down her resistance and resolve. You said so yourself. And I’ll also bet she was worried what might happen if she didn’t go along with him.”
“Nobody threatened her with violence.”
“Maybe not in so many words.”
“Look, maybe things went just a little too far…”
“Got out of hand?”
“Maybe a little.”
Banks sighed. The number of times he’d heard that excuse for male violence against women. It was what Annie Cabbot’s assailants had claimed, too. He felt disgusted with Geoffrey Brighouse, but there wasn’t much he could do. The incident had taken place over a year ago, the woman hadn’t filed a complaint as far as he knew, and Terence Payne was fighting for his life in the infirmary anyway. Still, it was one worth noting down for future reference.
“I’m sorry,” said Brighouse. “But you must understand. She never told us to stop.”
“Didn’t seem as if she had much chance to do that, sandwiched between two strapping lads like you and Terry.”
“Well, she’d enjoyed everything else.”
Move on, Banks told himself, before you hit him. “Any other incidents like that?”
