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

Annie’s face was starting to ache when she went to interview Liz Palmer. She’d taken a couple of paracetamol earlier, but the effect was wearing off. She took another two and probed a loose tooth with her tongue. Wonderful. The last thing she needed was a trip to the dentist’s. That bastard Armitage. His high-priced lawyer had been down the station like a shot, and as soon as the custody officer had drawn up the papers charging Armitage with criminal assault, he’d been bound over to appear in front of the magistrate the following day and sent off home. Annie would have liked to see him cooling his heels in the custody suite at least overnight, but no such luck. He’d probably walk on the charges, too. People like him usually did.

Because the Luke Armitage murder was a high-profile case, Gristhorpe and DC Winsome Jackman were interviewing Ryan Milne at the same time next door. So far, since they had picked him up at the college, Milne had been about as forthcoming as Liz.

Annie took DC Kevin Templeton with her into interview room 2, made sure Liz was clear about her rights and started the tape recorders. As yet, Annie explained, no charges had been brought and nobody was under arrest. She simply wanted an explanation as to how Luke Armitage’s shoulder bag had got into Liz’s hall cupboard. The bag and its contents were already with forensics.

“You told me you last saw Luke at band practice in the church basement about a week before he disappeared, right?” Annie began.

Liz nodded. She slumped in her chair and worked at a fingernail, looking a lot younger than her twenty-one years.

“Did he have the shoulder bag with him?”

“He always had it with him.”

“Then what was it doing in your cupboard?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“How long has it been there?”

“Must’ve been since band practice.”

“He came to the flat first?”

“Yes.”

Annie glanced at Kevin Templeton and sighed. “Problem is, Liz,” she went on, “that the market square CCTV cameras caught Luke before he disappeared a week ago last Monday, and he had the bag with him then.”

“It must’ve been a new one.”

“No,” Annie said. “It was the same one.” She couldn’t be certain of that, of course – perhaps Luke had left his bag at Liz’s and bought a new one – but she thought it unlikely Luke would have left all his things there, too. After all, it wasn’t the bag itself that counted, but the possessions it contained: his notebook, his laptop computer, portable CD player, tapes and CDs.

Liz frowned. “Well, I don’t see how…”

“Me, neither. Unless you’re not telling us the truth.”

“Why would I lie?”

“Oh, come off it,” Kevin Templeton butted in. “Luke’s dead. I’d say that’s a pretty good reason to lie, wouldn’t you?”

Liz jerked forward. “ I didn’t kill him! You can’t think I killed him.”

“I don’t know what we’re supposed to think,” said Annie, spreading her hands. “But I’m sure you can see our problem. Luke and his bag go missing, then Luke turns up dead, and we find his bag in your cupboard. Bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“I’ve told you, I don’t know when he put it there.”

“Where were you that afternoon?”

“What afternoon?”

“The Monday Luke disappeared.”

“I don’t know. Home, I suppose.”

“Are you sure he didn’t call at the flat, then perhaps forget his bag when he went off somewhere else?” Annie knew she was giving Liz an out, but it seemed the only way to get her talking.

“I didn’t see him.”

“Did he have a key?”

“No.”

“So you couldn’t have gone out for a minute and he let himself in?”

“I don’t see how.”

So much for that line of questioning. “Liz, you’re not making our job any easier. I’ll ask you again: How did Luke’s bag find its way into your hall cupboard?”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, that’s your problem.”

“No, Liz. It’s your problem. And it’s going to be a very big one if you don’t tell us the truth soon.”

“Maybe it was Ryan,” Kevin Templeton suggested.

Liz looked confused. “Ryan? What do you mean?”

“Well,” Templeton went on, “let me tell you what I think happened.” Annie gave him the nod. “I think Luke went to your flat after he’d been in the market square-”

“No. I told you. He didn’t come that day.”

“Let me finish.”

“But it’s not true! You’re making it up.”

“Be quiet,” Annie said. “Listen to what DC Templeton has to say.”

Liz flopped back in her chair. “Whatever.”

“Luke came to your place after he’d been in the market square. It was late afternoon. Ryan was out and the two of you thought you had time for a roll on the bed. He was a good-looking kid, fit, looked older than his age-”

“No! That didn’t happen. It wasn’t like that!”

“But Ryan came home and caught you at it. The two of them got in a scuffle and one way or another Luke ended up dead. I’m sure Ryan didn’t mean to kill him, but you had a body on your hands. What could you do? You waited until dark and then you loaded Luke’s body into the car and took it to Hallam Tarn, where Ryan hoisted him up the wall and dropped him over. He should have sunk the way dead bodies do, at least for a while, until they start to decompose and the gases build up and carry them to the surface, but he didn’t. His T-shirt snagged on an old tree root. Bad luck. Ryan wasn’t to know that. And nobody should have been in a position to find Luke because the whole area was quarantined due to foot-and-mouth restrictions. But a man from the Ministry had to take water samples. Bad luck, again. Ryan wasn’t to know that, either.” Templeton smiled, showing his white teeth, and folded his arms. “How am I doing so far, Liz?”

“It’s all lies. Nothing like that happened. You’re just making it up to get us in trouble. I’ve heard about the police doing things like this before.”

“You’re already in trouble,” Annie said. “We’re trying to help you out, find an explanation for what happened. Maybe it did happen the way DC Templeton suggested. Maybe it was an accident? If it was, we can help. But you have to tell us the truth .”

“Look, I don’t know how that bag got there,” Liz said. “We hadn’t seen Luke since the last band practice.”

“You’re not making it easy for us,” Annie said.

“I can’t help it! What do you want me to do? Make something up just to satisfy you?”

“I want the truth.”

“I’ve told you the truth.”

“You’ve told us nothing, Liz.”

“Look,” said Templeton, “we can check, you know. Our forensics people are very good.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean they’ll go through your flat with the proverbial fine-tooth comb, and if there’s any evidence of wrongdoing, even a drop of Luke’s blood, they’ll find it.”

“He’s right,” Annie said. “There’s the poker, for a start. I noticed it when we were talking to you. You don’t see them very often these days. If there’s any trace of Luke’s blood or hair on it, we’ll find it. And if there are any traces on the carpet, between the floorboards, down the sink, we’ll find them.”

Liz crossed her arms and bit her lip. Annie could tell she’d touched a nerve. What was it? The mention of blood? Did Liz know they’d find traces of Luke’s blood in the flat? “What is it, Liz?” she asked. “Something to tell me?”

Liz shook her head.

“Ryan’s being interviewed just next door,” Templeton said. “I’ll bet he’s telling them it was all your fault, that you killed Luke and he had to get rid of the body for you.”