spent a lot more time with my husband than you think. I did accompany them sometimes, especially if they went by car. But I’m very susceptible to the sun, so I never ventured far on sunny days unless I could find some shade. I still fail to see why you find all this so fascinating.’
‘Sometimes present events have their roots in the past. Did you enjoy your visits?’
‘They made a nice break. Leeds isn’t the cleanest city in the world, I enjoyed the fresh air, the landscape.’
‘One more thing. I’ve been given to believe that your husband was universally liked. Even Teddy Hackett, who had good reason to disagree with him, thought of him as a friend. Since I’ve been looking into his death though, I’ve found at least two people who didn’t feel the same way – Major Cartwright and Robert Kirk. We might regard them as cranks, but I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anyone else. Someone I don’t know about. You were a close group all those years ago, and your husband was still close to Michael Ramsden and Penny Cartwright when he died. Was there anybody else around? Anybody who might have held a grudge?’
Emma Steadman pursed her lips and shook her head slowly.
‘Think about it.’
‘I am. Of course there were other people around, but I can’t imagine any of them had a reason to harm Harold.’
‘The point is, Mrs Steadman, that somebody did. And if none of you can help me find out who it was, I don’t know who can. Is there any reason why he was killed at this particular time rather than, say, a year ago, or five years ago?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘You must know something about his affairs. Was he planning to do anything with his money? Write a will, leave it to the National Trust or something? Was there any other land he was after, anyone else’s toes he was treading on?’
‘No. No to all those questions. And I think I would have known, yes.’
‘Well, that doesn’t leave much, does it?’
‘You think one of us did it, don’t you?’
Banks kept silent.
‘Do you think I did it? For his money?’
‘You couldn’t have, could you?’
‘Maybe you think Mrs Stanton was lying to give me an alibi?’
‘No.’
‘Then why keep bothering me? I only buried my husband a few days ago.’
As Banks could think of no answer to that question, he sighed and got up to leave. Before Emma closed the door on him, he turned and spoke again: ‘Just consider what I said, will you? Try to remember any enemies your husband might have made, however insignificant they might have seemed at the time. Think about it. I’ll be back.’
Penny Cartwright was listening to music, and when she grudgingly let Banks in, flashing him a ‘you again’ look, she didn’t bother to turn it down.
‘I won’t keep you,’ Banks said, sitting on a hard-backed chair by the window and lighting a cigarette. ‘It’s just about the other night.’
‘What night? There’s been a lot lately,’ Penny said, pouring herself a drink.
‘Friday night.’
‘What about it?’
‘You were singing at the Dog and Gun, remember?’
Penny scowled at him. ‘Of course I remember. You were there too. What is this?’
‘Just refreshing your memory. Between sets you went off with Jack Barker. You were gone for about an hour. Where were you?’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Look, it’s about time you got this right. I ask the questions; you answer. Understand?’
‘Oh, poor Inspector Banks,’ Penny cooed, ‘have I been undermining your authority?’ Her eyes challenged him. ‘What was the question again?’
‘Friday night, between sets. Where were you?’
‘We went for a walk.’
‘Where?’
‘Oh, hither and thither.’
‘Can you be more specific?’
‘Not really. I go for a lot of walks. There’s a lot of places to walk around Helmthorpe. That’s why so many tourists come here in summer.’
‘Stop the games and tell me where you went.’
‘Or else?’
After a thirty-second staring match, Penny looked away and reached for a cigarette.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘We came here.’
‘What for?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Sex?’
‘That’s not the kind of question a lady answers. And it’s nothing to do with your investigation.’
Banks leaned forward and spoke quietly. ‘Would it interest you to know that I’ve got a damned good idea why you came here? And I’ve got some colleagues back in Eastvale who’d be more than happy to come out here and prove it for me. Help me and you help yourself.’
‘I’m not admitting anything.’
‘Where were you at four o’clock on Friday afternoon?’
‘I was here practising. Why?’
‘Anybody with you?’
‘No. There usually isn’t when I practise.’
‘Did you receive any telephone calls?’
Penny looked confused. ‘Telephone calls? No. What are you getting at?’
‘And you refuse to tell me what you did during the interval on Friday evening?’
‘Wait a minute. Sally. Sally Lumb. She disappeared on Friday, didn’t she? Christ, you bastard!’ She glared at Banks. Angry tears made her eyes glitter. ‘Are you implying that I had something to do with that?’
‘What did you do?’
‘If you already know, why do you want me to tell you?’
‘I need to hear it from you.’
Penny sagged in her chair and looked away. ‘All right. So we came back here and smoked a couple of joints. Big deal. Is that what you wanted to hear? What are you going to do now, bring in the dogs and tear the place apart?’
Banks stood up to leave. ‘I’m not going to do anything. I remember the difference between the last set and the first, how you seemed more remote, detached. If it’s any consolation to you,’ he said, opening the door, ‘I believe you, and I’m glad I was right.’
But Penny didn’t move or say anything to make his exit easier.
FOUR
Later, as Penny lay in bed that night unable to sleep, the images came again, just as they had been coming ever since Harold Steadman’s death: those summers so long ago – innocent, idyllic. Or so they had seemed.
It was a time she had had neither reason nor inclination to think about over the past ten years – the kind of period, like an idealized childhood, that one looks back on when one gets older and life loses its edge. Life had been too busy, too exciting, and when she finally had crashed, she had been as far in her mind from idyllic
