'Well, Trevor,' Banks greeted him. 'I see you've lost a filling since we last talked.'
Trevor said nothing, but got sullenly to his feet and followed the two men out to their car. The drive back to Eastvale in the dark passed in silence.
The law stated that a juvenile could not be charged unless his parents were present, and as a charge was likely, Banks had to call Graham Sharp in as soon as the trio arrived back at the Eastvale station.
Nobody said a word to Trevor until his father arrived.
When Graham Sharp was shown into the already crowded office by PC Gay, Banks was just finishing his call to Sandra, letting her know that he would be late home again that evening.
Finally, with both Trevor and his father sitting opposite him at the desk and Sergeant Hatchley standing by the window with his notebook, gazing down on the quiet, darkening market square, Banks was ready to begin. He tidied the files on his desk, arranged the pencils in front of him, and caught Trevor's eye.
'What were you doing at that clinic?' he opened.
'What do you think?' Trevor mumbled scornfully.
'Well, you weren't having your filling replaced, that's for certain.'
'What's all this?' Graham Sharp butted in. 'What clinic? What are you talking about?'
'Mr. Sharp,' Banks said patiently, 'according to the law, you have to be present if charges are likely to be laid, but I'm the one who's asking the questions, all right?'
'I've got a right to protect my son.'
'Yes, you have. You're perfectly at liberty to advise him not to answer if you wish. But please bear in mind that he hasn't been charged with anything yet' Graham Sharp settled back in his chair, looking angry and confused.
'Why didn't you go to the Eastvale Clinic?' Banks asked Trevor.
'Didn't know there was one.'
'How did you find out about York?'
'A schoolmate told me.'
'Who did you get the clap from?'
'Now, wait a minute!' Sharp interrupted again. 'This is going too far. What clap? Who's got VD?'
'Your son has gonorrhea, Mr. Sharp. Haven't you, lad?'
Trevor said nothing.
'There's no point denying it,' Banks pressed. 'The doctor did the tests. We can easily call him and have him talk to your dad.'
Trevor turned away from his father and nodded. Graham Sharp put his head in his hands.
'Let's get back to my original question,' Banks continued. 'Where did you get this disease? You don't catch it from toilet seats, you know.'
'It was like I told the doctor,' Trevor answered.
'Ah yes,' Banks said, speaking up so that Graham Sharp could hear him clearly. 'You had a prostitute against a wall down a back alley in York. Is that right?'
Trevor nodded, pale.
'When was this?'
'About a week ago. Last Monday.'
'You were in York last Monday?'
'Yes.'
'What time did he get home, Mr. Sharp?' Sharp snapped to attention at the sound of his name. 'What?'
'What time did your son get home last Monday night?' Banks repeated.
'About eleven. He always has to be in by eleven. It's his bedtime, see.'
'Did you know where he was?'
'He said he was going to York, yes,' Sharp said.
'Who did he go with?'
'I don't know. A friend. He didn't say.'
'A friend?'
'I suppose so.'
'Not friends?'
'For God's sake, I don't know.'
'You see, the thing is, Mr. Sharp, he told the doctor he went with a group of friends to celebrate his birthday, and that his friends got together and bought him, so to speak, a prostitute as a present. Was it your son's birthday last Monday, Mr. Sharp?'
'Yes. Yes, it was, as a matter of fact.'
'You realize,' Banks said, 'that we can always check the records?'
'Well, it wasn't officially his birthday, no. But it was his mother's birthday. He always used to celebrate his mother's birthday. He was very attached to her.'
'Is that really what happened, Trevor?' Banks asked. 'To celebrate your mother's birthday you had a prostitute up against a wall in a back alley in York? She said her name was Jane and you've no idea where she lives?' Trevor nodded.
'Do you know, Trevor, that we can question every prostitute in York if we have to? It's not as big as Leeds or Bradford, and there aren't very many of them. The police know them all. They're on good terms-you know, you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours, that kind of thing? It wouldn't take us long to find out whether your story's true or not.'
'All right,' Trevor said defiantly. 'Ask them. Bloody well ask them for all I care.'
'Mind your language, Trevor,' his father said.
Sergeant Hatchley, who had remained as impassive as a Buddha throughout the interrogation, suddenly moved away from the window and began pacing around the small office, making the floor creak. Trevor shot nervous glances at him and seemed to tense up when Hatchley walked behind him.
'Care to tell us the names of your friends, Trevor? Just so we can corroborate your story,' Banks asked.
'No.' Trevor glanced sideways at Hatchley, who leaned against the wall for a moment and cracked his knuckles before turning another page in his notebook.
'Where were you a week last Thursday evening?'
'He was at home with me,' Graham Sharp answered quickly.
'I asked Trevor.'
'Like he says.' Trevor looked at his father.
'Doing what?'
'Watched a bit of telly, read a bit, did some homework.'
'What about Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday?'
'Same thing.'
'Don't have much of a social life, do you Trevor? When I was a lad I was all over the place. My mother and father couldn't keep track of me.'
Trevor shrugged.
'Look,' Graham Sharp cut in, eyeing Hatchley, who moved casually away from the wall and back over to the window, 'this has gone far enough. What's it all about? What's my Trevor supposed to have done?'
'When?'
'What do you mean, 'when'?'
'I mean that we think Trevor's done a lot of things. I was asking you which night you meant.'
'Don't be ridiculous. Trevor's a good kid. He's doing well at school and he'll be going on to university. He's going to make something out of his life.' Banks shook his head. 'He's not doing so well at school, you know. I've checked.' Sharp's mouth dropped open, then he pulled himself together. 'All right, so he's having one or two problems at the moment. We all go through difficult phases, Inspector, you must know that?'
'Yes, I know that,' Banks replied evenly. 'But I'm afraid that in your Trevor's case it's something more serious.'
