Peter Robinson - Close To Home (aka The Summer That Never Was)

“What kind of music do you play?”

“What does it matter?”

“Let’s just say I’m interested. Humor me.”

“It’s hard to describe,” Liz answered.

“Try.”

She looked at him, as if trying to size up his musical knowledge. “Well, it’s all about the songs, really. We’re not trendy and we don’t go in for long solos and stuff. It’s more… have you heard of David Gray?”

“Yes.”

“Beth Orton?”

“Yes.”

If Liz was surprised by Banks’s familiarity with contemporary music, she didn’t show it. “Well, we’re not like them, but that’s sort of what we’re interested in. Having something to say, and maybe a bit jazzy and bluesy. I play quite a bit of flute as well as organ.”

“Did you know that Luke was taking violin lessons?”

“Yes. That would have been wonderful. We were looking to expand, bring in more musicians, but we were being very careful about it.” She looked Banks in the eye. “We were serious about making a real go of this, you know,” she said. “But without selling out or being commercial. We’re absolutely gutted by what’s happened. Not just as a band, I mean, but personally, too.”

“I understand, and I appreciate that,” said Banks. “Did you have any other sort of relationship with Luke? Other than musical?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“With Luke?”

“Why not? He was a good-looking kid.”

“But that’s all he was. A kid.”

“You said he was wise beyond his years.”

“I know that, but I’m not a bloody cradle-snatcher. Besides, I’m perfectly happy with Ryan, thank you very much.” Liz’s face was red.

“So you were never Luke’s girlfriend?”

“No way. I told you. I was with Ryan when we met. It was all about the music.”

“So there’s no chance that Ryan caught the two of you in bed together and ended up killing Luke, then deciding he might as well cash in on it?”

“I don’t know how you can even suggest something as horrible as that.” Liz seemed close to tears and Banks was starting to feel like a shit. She seemed a good kid. But seemed wasn’t good enough. He remembered Rose Barlow’s visit, as well as her angry exit. Liz was younger than Lauren Anderson, and a far more likely candidate for Luke’s bedfellow, in Banks’s opinion. He didn’t know how strong Liz’s relationship with Ryan was, or how open.

“It happens,” Banks said. “You’d be surprised. Maybe it was an accident, you just couldn’t see any other way out.”

“I told you. Nothing like that happened. Luke was in the band, that’s all.”

“Did Luke ever confide in you at all,” Annie asked, easing off the pressure a little. “You know, tell you what was on his mind, what was worrying him?”

Liz paused, regaining her composure. She seemed to be looking at Annie’s swollen red lips but she didn’t ask about them. “He complained about school a lot,” she said finally.

“Ever say anything about his stepfather?”

“The rugby player?”

“Ex-footballer.”

“Whatever. No, not much. I don’t think Luke liked him very much.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Nothing in particular. Just the way he talked.”

“Did you ever meet Luke’s parents?”

“No. I don’t think he even told them about us, about the band.”

“How do you know?”

“Just my impression.”

It was probably true, Banks realized. According to Annie and to his own observations, the Armitages didn’t seem to have a clue what Luke was up to half the time. “Did he seem worried about anything?”

“Like what?”

“Anything at all,” Annie went on. “Did he mention if any threats had been made against him, for example, or if he thought someone was following him? Anything unusual, out of the ordinary?”

“No, nothing like that. Like I said, he didn’t like school and couldn’t wait to leave home. I’d say that’s pretty normal, wouldn’t you?”

Banks smiled. He’d been the same at that age. Later, too. And he had also left home at the first opportunity.

“When did you last see Luke?” Annie asked.

“About a week before he disappeared. Band practice.”

Annie looked around the small room and struggled to her feet. “Where do you practice?”

“Church basement, down the street. The vicar’s pretty broad-minded, a young bloke, and he lets us use their space if we don’t make too much noise.”

“And you haven’t seen Luke since?”

“No.”

“Has he ever been here?” Banks asked. “In this flat?”

“Sure. Plenty of times.” Liz stood up, as if she sensed they were leaving.

“Did he ever leave anything here?”

“Like what?”

“Any of his stuff. You know – notebooks, poems, stories, clothes, that sort of thing. We’re looking for anything that might help us understand what happened to him.”

“He never left any clothes here,” Liz said coldly, “but he sometimes left tapes of songs for us, if that’s what you mean. And some lyrics, maybe. But…”

“Could you collect them all together for us?”

“I suppose so. I mean, I don’t know what’s here or where everything is. Do you mean right now? Can’t you come back later?”

“Now would be best,” said Banks. “We’ll help you look, if you like.”

“No! I mean, no. It’s all right. I’ll find them.”

“Is there something here you don’t want us to see, Liz?”

“No, nothing. There’s only a few tapes and some poems, notes for songs. I don’t see how they can help you. Look… will I get these tapes and things back?”

“Why would you get them back?” Annie asked. “They were Luke’s property, weren’t they?”

“Technically, I suppose. But he brought them for us. The band. To share.”

“They’ll still most likely go to the family,” Banks told her.

“Luke’s family! But they don’t care. They can’t…”

“Can’t what, Liz?”

“I was going to say they can’t appreciate his talent. They’ll just throw them away. How could you let something like that happen?”

“Can’t be helped. It’s the law.”

Liz shifted from foot to foot, arms folded, as if she needed to go to the toilet. “Look, couldn’t you go away and come back, just for a while, give me just a bit of time to get everything together?”

“We can’t do that, Liz. I’m sorry.”

“So you’ll just take everything and give it to Luke’s parents, just like that? You won’t even give me time to make copies.”

“This is a murder investigation,” Annie reminded her.

“But still…” Liz sat down, close to tears again. “It doesn’t seem fair. It seems such a waste… I don’t know. His parents don’t care. We were so close.”

“So close to what?”

“To making something of ourselves.”

Banks felt sorry for her. He suspected that she wanted to hang on to Luke’s tapes and writings for selfish reasons, so that the band could one day ride on Luke’s and his father’s coattails to success. If they couldn’t do it with Luke’s voice and talent, at least they could try to do it with some of his material. That Luke had been murdered would also, no doubt, help boost the public interest. Banks didn’t think particularly ill of Liz for this. He’d probably have wanted the same if he were in her situation and felt passionate about a career in music. He didn’t think it lessened her genuine feelings for Luke. But there was something else that bothered him – the way she had reacted when he had offered to help look around. He glanced at Annie. It was one of those rare moments when each knew what the other was thinking.