“Excellent,” said Banks. “You’re lucky,” he said to Mallory. “She doesn’t usually do tea.” He followed Mallory into the hall and up the stairs. “Nice house you’ve got here.”
“Thanks.”
“How much did you pay for it?”
“Too much.”
“No, come on. Quarter? Half? A mill?”
“Four hundred K. A bargain at the time.”
Banks whistled. He followed Mallory into a nondescript white bedroom with an en suite bathroom and walk-in cupboards and waited while he undressed and threw his clothes in a laundry basket, then rubbed himself down with a green fluffy towel, which joined his clothes, and pulled on a navy blue tracksuit. When Mallory was ready, Banks gestured for him to head back downstairs.
Winsome was waiting on the sofa, a pot of tea, milk, sugar and three mugs on the table in front of her. “I’ll play mother, then, shall I?” she said, pouring.
“Victor,” Banks said, settling down opposite Mallory, who sat in the winged armchair by the fireplace. “Tell us what happened?”
“Two men came,” Victor said. “They…they trussed me up, the way you saw, with sticky tape, then they just left me. I could have starved or choked to death if you hadn’t come.”
“We’ll cheerfully accept the praise for saving your life,” Banks said, “but I’d say you’re exaggerating just a wee bit. How long have you been like that?”
“I don’t know. I lost track of time. They came just after lunch.”
“Maybe five or six hours, then,” said Banks, with a glance at Winsome, who had started to take notes.
“Something like that. I tried to struggle free, but all I succeeded in doing was making the tape tighter. Then I rocked the chair so hard trying to pull away, it fell over. I was helpless, like a tortoise flipped on its back.”
“So we saw.”
“Look, do you mind if I get myself a drop of brandy. This tea’s very nice and all, but I’ve really had quite a shock, you know.”
“Not at all.”
“Can I get…I mean, would either of you like anything?”
“No, thank you,” said Banks, holding up his mug. “Tea will do fine for me.”
Winsome nodded in agreement.
“Okay.” Mallory went to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a generous measure of Remy into a crystal glass. “That’s better,” he said after the first sip.
“I suppose you already know that we’ll probably want the same information your previous visitors wanted.”
“I’d guessed that already. But you’re not going to tie me up and threaten me with surgical instruments, are you?”
“Is that what they did?”
Mallory gave a theatrical shudder. On second thought, Banks realized, perhaps it wasn’t so theatrical. “One of them did. A real psychopath.”
“Ciaran. One of his persuasion techniques.”
Mallory almost choked on his Remy. “You know who they are?”
“I can make a pretty good guess,” said Banks. “Winsome?”
Winsome took Rose’s sketches from her briefcase and passed them to Mallory. “Good God,” he said. “Yes. That’s them.” He passed them back to Winsome.
“Then you’re a lucky man,” said Banks. “You still have all your organs intact.” He put his mug down on the table, leaned forward and cracked his knuckles. “The thing is, Victor, we don’t have a lot of time to beat about the bush. They’ve already got five hours or more start on us, and there’s a lot at stake. A lot more than you can imagine.”
“But who are they? Why me? Are you going to arrest them?”
“That’s a lot of questions, and I’m the one supposed to be doing the asking. Did you know that your friend Jaff McCready works for a man called Fanthorpe, better known as The Farmer?”
“Fanthorpe? No. Who’s he?”
“All you need to know is that he’s also the employer of Ciaran and Darren, the men who just paid you a visit. And they may have sup-planted Jaff in Fanthorpe’s favor in recent days.”
Mallory swallowed. Banks could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “They wanted to know where Jaff is. That’s all.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“No, I don’t. Honest, I don’t.”
“But you must have some idea. The Ciaran and Darren I know wouldn’t believe that at face value. They’d have cut at least a little finger off, or sharpened it like a pencil, just to make sure, and they don’t really seem to have harmed a hair on your head. All the damage that was done, you did to yourself.”
“They terrorized me! Tortured me. In my own home.”
“My guess is,” Banks went on, “that you talked, and that you talked very quickly indeed. So we’d like you to do the same with us. You owe us that courtesy, at least. I mean, they only tied you up and threatened you with mutilation. We set you free, let you change your wet clothes, gave you a cup of tea and a glass of brandy. You owe us something, Victor. You must see that.”
“You sound just like them.”
“Don’t be silly. Where’s Jaff McCready?”
Victor turned away. “I don’t know.”
“That’s better. Now I know for certain you’re lying. I like to know where I stand.” Banks read out the number of the car that had been found hidden off the moorland road. “That mean anything to you?”
“Yeah. It’s my car.”
“Good. I’m glad you didn’t try to deny that. Now we’re getting somewhere. What was it doing on the moors above Gratly?”
“I don’t even know where Gratly is.”
“That wasn’t my question. How did it get there? And don’t try to tell me it was stolen.”
“Okay, so I lent it to Jaff. I assume you already know that or you wouldn’t be here. So what? He’s a mate of mine. I didn’t know what sort of trouble he was in.”
“But you must have known he was in some trouble?”
“Well, sure. But like I said, he’s a mate. You help out a mate in trouble, don’t you?”
Banks thought of Juliet Doyle, who had turned her daughter in to the police when she found a handgun in her possession. Who was going to help them out of their trouble? “Let’s not get too philosophical about it, Victor. We don’t have time. What else did you ‘lend’ Jaff?”
“Nothing. I don’t know what you mean.”
“Was he with anyone?”
“There was a girl. She stayed outside in his car. I only saw her when they swapped cars and got into mine. He said her name was Francesca.”
“She just stayed outside in the car of her own accord?” Mallory frowned. “Of course. Why not?”
“She didn’t appear under duress or anything?”
“No, not that I could tell.”
Banks could feel Winsome’s gaze on him. He had to tread carefully, he knew, show no emotion. If he used Tracy’s true identity to browbeat Mallory, it could all backfire on him if it came to court. Gervaise had warned him he was on thin ice, and he was already beginning to feel it splintering under his feet. “Did Jaff tell you why he needed to borrow your car?”
“Not specifically, no. He just said he was in a spot of bother and he had to get away. It was only later, when I watched the news…heard about Erin…”
“You know Erin?”
“Met her a couple of times. Crazy bitch. I told him she was trouble.”
“And what did he say to that?”
