Peter Robinson - Cold Is The Grave

“No. Why would I?”

“You tell me.”

“No.”

“Did she ever indicate that she did? Did she ask you for money, for example?”

“You mean blackmail?”

“Did she?”

“Emily? No. I told you, she was just some young bimbo I used to fuck, that’s all.”

“And now she’s dead.”

“And now she’s dead. Sad, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Banks, reining in his rising temper. “It is.”

Clough got to his feet. “Is that it, then? Can we go now?”

“Sit down, Barry. You’ll go when I tell you to go.”

Clough looked at Gallagher, who nodded again.

“Did you see Emily at all after she left London?”

“No. Easy come, easy go.”

“Were you at Scarlea House between December the fifth and December the tenth this year?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Oh, come on, Barry. You were there for the grouse shooting. You had your minder Jamie Gilbert with you and a young woman in tow. Amanda Khan. The pop singer.”

“Oh, yes. I remember now.”

“Last time I asked you, you said you were in Spain at that time.”

I get confused. I do a lot of travelling. What can I say? But I remember now.”

“You didn’t see Emily while you were staying in the area?”

“Why would I? Amanda gives far better head.”

“For old time’s sake?”

“Let go and move on. That’s my motto.”

“Perhaps to give her a glassine envelope of cocaine laced with strychnine?”

“Chief Inspector,” said Gallagher, “you’re treading in dangerous territory here. Be careful.”

“Did you?” Banks asked Clough.

“Now where would I get hold of strychnine?”

“I daresay you’d have your sources. Cocaine wasn’t much trouble, was it?”

“You know as well as I do, Chief Inspector, that there’s probably enough of that stuff around at any given moment to pay off the national debt. If you like that sort of thing. Not for me, of course. But strychnine… I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“While you were at Scarlea, did you have dinner with Chief Constable Jeremiah Riddle?”

“What if I did?”

“How did you know him?”

“Mutual acquaintance.”

“Bollocks, Barry. When Emily left, with the information you’d overheard from our conversation, you found out who she really was, where she lived. And when you found that her father was a senior-ranking policeman, you tried to move in and blackmail him.”

“Chief Inspector,” Simon Gallagher broke in, “I’m going to have to ask you to stop these absurd insinuations. If you want to question my client, go ahead and question him in the prescribed manner.”

“I apologize,” said Banks. “Why did you have dinner with Chief Constable Riddle?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I already have.”

Clough seemed surprised at that, but he soon regained his composure. “We talked about his daughter. And if he told you anything different, then he’s a liar.”

“How did you feel when Emily left you?”

“Come again?”

“You heard what I said.”

“Feel? I didn’t feel anything, really. Why would I? I mean she was only-”

“Some bimbo you used to fuck? Yes, yes, so you said before. No need to keep on repeating yourself. But you don’t like your bimbos to run out on you, do you? You prefer to give them the boot yourself.”

“That’s exactly what happened. She’d served her purpose. It was time to move on. She didn’t get the message, so I had to help her along a bit.”

“By trying to toss her into bed with Andrew Handley?”

“Andy Pandy? What’s he got to do with this?”

“You do admit to knowing him, then?”

“He works for me from time to time.”

“Not anymore, Barry. He’s dead.”

“What? Andy? Dead? I don’t believe it.”

“He was found shot to death near Exmoor. Know anything about that?”

“Of course I don’t. It’s…”

“Sad?”

“Yeah. Andy was all right.”

“Is that why you pushed Emily into a room with him?”

“I did no such thing. I’ve told you before. If she went into a room with Andy, she went on her own accord.”

“Sure he didn’t get tired of taking your leftovers and decide to strike out for himself?”

“Look, Chief Inspector, my client has answered all these questions before. Unless there’s anything new-”

“Gregory Manners,” said Banks.

“Who?” said Clough.

“Gregory Manners. He ran the PKF operation for you at Daleview. Remember, I told you. Their van got hijacked on the way to a new location, and the night watchman at Daleview was murdered. Oddly enough, it was the same MO as the Andrew Handley murder.”

“I vaguely remember you going on about that when you came to the house with that other copper. I didn’t understand why then, and I don’t now.”

“Right. So what about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Barry. We found Gregory Manners’s fingerprints on a whole stack of bootlegged games and software. That’s what you were doing at PKF. A big operation. you had multidisc copying machines, and they were in that van. Andy Pandy wanted to break away, didn’t he, go into business by himself? So he hatched a plot with the night watchman at Daleview. Charlie Courage had already figured out there was something dodgy going on at PKF – Charlie had a nose for that sort of thing – and you were paying him off. Then Andy comes along with a better offer. They arrange it to look like a hijack, but your lads pick up Gregory Manners first, and he tells you he thought there was something fishy going on between Charlie and Andy Pandy. Then you pick up Charlie, and he tells all. So they kill Charlie, and then they kill Andy Pandy. Isn’t that how it went?”

Clough turned his head slowly to Gallagher and raised his eyebrows. “Am I missing something, Simon?” he said. “I am Barry Clough, aren’t I? Mr. Banks here seems to have me confused with some criminal named Gregory Manners.”

Gallagher stood up. “Chief Inspector, you’ve got an active imagination, I’ll say that. But you can’t corroborate any of this. You haven’t a single shred of evidence connecting my client to either of these men.”

“Mr. Manners is still helping us with our inquiries,” Banks lied. “We have every reason to believe he’ll tell us what he knows when he realizes the full extent of the charges that might be brought against him.”

Clough gave Banks a stony gaze. “So what?” he said.

“What about Andrew Handley?” Banks said to Gallagher. “Your client has already admitted to knowing him.”

“But that doesn’t mean he had anything to do with Mr. Handley’s unfortunate demise.”

“‘Unfortunate demise?’” Banks repeated. “Andrew Handley’s upper body was shredded by a close-range shotgun wound. I’d hardly call that an unfortunate fucking demise.”

“Unfortunate turn of phrase,” muttered Gallagher. “And there’s no need to swear at me.”

“We’re all adults here, aren’t we? And I’m hardly the first.”

“There’s a lady present,” said Clough, grinning at Annie.

“Fuck you,” said Annie.

Gallagher waved his hands in the air. “All right, all right, ladies and gentlemen. Can we all just calm down a minute and get back on track? If there is a track.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gallagher,” said Banks. “I believe we were talking about Andrew Handley.”

“All right,” said Clough. “Yes. I knew him. He worked for me sometimes.”

“Doing what?”

“Managing things. I delegate a lot.”

Banks laughed out loud.

“Chief Inspector!”

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it. Delegate. Right. Would you say the two of you were friends?”