Peter Robinson - Friend of the Devil

“I agree,” said Julia Ford. “I simply wanted to lay my cards on the table and let you know who you’re really dealing with. The events took place six years ago, when Lucy was just twenty-two. When faced with arrest, Lucy jumped out of a window, Maggie Forrest’s window. Lucy was in hospital after hospital for a long, long time, and the firm took care of her affairs. She had a number of serious operations, none of which was entirely successful, but they managed to keep her alive, after a fashion. In the end, we found her a place at Mapston Hall. Given the publicity surrounding the Payne case, once she had managed to disappear from the public view, and from the media, we thought it best that she assumed a new identity for the rest of her days. It was all perfectly legal. I have the papers.”

“And what about the car accident they told us about at Mapston Hall? Drunk driving?”

“Another necessary fiction.”

“I’m sure it was,” said Annie, “and I’m not really here to contest any of that. I thought I was looking for the killer of Karen Drew, but now I find out that I’m looking for who killed Lucy Payne. That changes things.”

“I hope knowing that won’t stop you from putting just as much effort into it.”

Annie glared at her. “I won’t even dignify that with a reply,” she said.

“There were plenty at the time who said Lucy got exactly what she deserved when she ended up in a wheelchair. Perhaps you were one of them.”

“No.” Annie felt herself turn red. She had never said that, but she had thought it. Like Banks, she believed that Lucy Payne had been as guilty as her husband, and spending the rest of her days paralyzed was fitting enough punishment for what the two of them had done to those girls in their cellar, whether Lucy had actually delivered the killing blows or not. The videos showed that she knew all about what was going on and had been a willing participant in her husband’s sick, elaborate sexual games with his victims. No, Lucy Payne’s fate elicited no sympathy from Annie. And now someone had put her out of her misery. It could almost be viewed as an act of kindness. But she wouldn’t let any of that cloud her judgment. She wouldn’t give Julia Ford the satisfaction of being right. She would work this case as hard as any other, harder perhaps, until she had discovered who killed Lucy Payne and why.

“How does it change things?” Julia Ford asked.

“Well, it brings two important questions to mind,” said Annie.

“Oh?”

“First: Did the killer know she was killing Lucy Payne?”

“And the second?”

“Who knew that Karen Drew was Lucy Payne?”

“Well, Stuart,” said Banks. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do, don’t you?”

Stuart Kinsey sat opposite Banks in the interview room that evening pouting, picking at a fingernail, glancing at Winsome out of the corner of his eye. It had been a long two days; everyone was tired and wanted to go home. Kinsey wore the typical student uniform of denim and a T-shirt proclaiming The Who’s triumphant return to Leeds University the previous June. His hair was shaggy, but not especially long, and Banks supposed he might be attractive to women in that surly, moody sort of way some of them liked. Whether he had been attractive to Hayley Daniels was another matter.

“Am I under arrest?” he asked.

Banks looked at Winsome. “Why does everyone ask us that?” he said.

“Don’t know, sir,” said Winsome. “Maybe they think it makes a difference.”

“Doesn’t it?” said Kinsey.

“Not really,” said Banks. “See, we could arrest you. Nothing easier. A mere formality. I’d say, ‘Stuart Kinsey, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Hayley Daniels. You don’t have to say anything… blah blah blah.’ The standard caution. Something along those lines. Then—”

“Wait a minute!” said Kinsey. “Murder? Now hold on. I had nothing to do with that.”

“Then you’d ask for a solicitor, as is your right, and we’d have to bring one in for you. He or she would probably encourage you to answer most of our questions, so long as they didn’t incriminate you. Which they wouldn’t if you didn’t do anything wrong. We could go that route. After the arrest comes the charge, which is a lot more serious. That’s when we take you down to the custody suite, divest you of your belt, shoelaces and possessions and lock you in a cell for as long as we feel like.” Banks tapped the side of his head. “Oh, no, what was I thinking about? That was the good old days. Sorry. It’s twenty-four hours, unless our boss authorizes further periods. And she’s very upset about what happened to Hayley. Got kids of her own.” Banks could sense Winsome rolling her eyes. But it worked. Kinsey had lost his cool and sullen demeanor, and he now appeared like a very frightened young man in a lot of trouble, which was exactly what Banks wanted.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

Banks nodded to Winsome, who turned on the small television monitor they had set up. The first clip showed Hayley walking away from her friends, Kinsey included, and disappearing into Taylor’s Yard. The time, 12:20 A.M., appeared along the bottom, along with the date and other technical details to prevent tampering. The second excerpt showed Stuart Kinsey dashing out of the arcade onto Castle Road. The time was 12:40. After the videos had finished, Banks paused to let the images sink in, then he said, “Whichever way you look at it, Stuart, you’re in a lot of trouble. What were you doing running out of the Maze at twelve-forty on Saturday night?”

“All right, I’d been looking for Hayley. But I didn’t kill her.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“It was like you saw in the other tape. We all said good-bye outside the Fountain. Hayley was… well, she’d had a few, if you must know.”

“I think we were aware of that,” said Banks. “It looks as if you were arguing. Why was she going into the Maze alone?”

“You know.”

“Tell me, Stuart.”

“Look, she was going for a piss, all right? The bogs in the Fountain were out of order. She’d had a skinful and she was going for a piss. That’s all. If it looks like we were arguing, it’s because we were trying to persuade her not to be so daft. But you can’t tell Hayley anything when she’s made her mind up, especially if she’s had a few.”

“She never said anything about meeting anyone?”

“No.”

“Wasn’t she afraid?”

“What had she to be afraid of? She didn’t know there was a murderer lurking there, did she?”

“Okay,” said Banks. “Why didn’t she wait until she got to the Bar None?”

“She just did things like that. She liked to be outrageous. She didn’t care what people thought. Besides, she wasn’t coming with us to the Bar None. Said she didn’t like the music.”

“Where was she going?”

“Dunno.”

“Okay, Stuart. You went into the Maze through the back exit of the Bar None shortly after you got there. Why?”

“I went to see if Hayley was okay.”

“You were worried about her? But you just told me you didn’t think she was in any danger, or had any reason to be.”

“Yeah, well, it just struck me that it’s dark down there and, you know, she might get lost or something.”

“And you wouldn’t? You know your way around the Maze, do you?”

“I didn’t really stop to think.”

“No. You just dashed out back to go and watch Hayley Daniels have a piss. Are you a pervert or something, Stuart?”

“No! I told you, it wasn’t like that at all. I wanted to… I wanted to see where she went.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? After she’d finished… you know… I wanted to see where she went. I didn’t do anything. Please. You have to believe me. I wouldn’t have hurt Hayley. Not for anything.”