Peter Robinson - Friend of the Devil

“That’s a laugh,” said Annie, turning away and twirling her hair with her fingers.

Winsome had never liked working with Templeton. It wasn’t because he beat her to sergeant, though that did rankle, but she didn’t like his methods, his callous disregard of people’s feelings, or the way he kept ogling her. If she was going to take a boyfriend, which she wasn’t, Templeton would be the last on her list. But in the meantime they had to work together, so she tried to keep her feelings in check as he prattled on about clubs and DJs she’d never heard of, and hinted at a sexual prowess she wasn’t interested in, as he sneaked glances at her thighs and breasts. She knew she could probably report him for sexual harassment, but that sort of thing had a way of coming back on you, especially if you were a woman. You didn’t run to the boss and tell tales; you dealt with it yourself.

Winsome had told Banks that she thought he was taking a big risk in sending Templeton to talk to Hayley Daniels’s parents. Banks said he knew that, but they were short-staffed, and it would help to have a different perspective. Sometimes, he added cryptically, Templeton’s unsavory and idiosyncratic methods could result in a breakthrough. Winsome remained unconvinced; she’d seen the bastard in action in ways that Banks hadn’t. Annie Cabbot would understand, but she wasn’t around.

Winsome pulled up outside the Daniels house in Swainshead, once again drawing curious stares from the old men on the bridge.

“What’s up with them?” said Templeton. “They act like they’ve never seen a black woman before.”

“They probably hadn’t before I came along,” Winsome said.

The reporters had gone and the house looked abandoned. It had only been two days since the news of Hayley’s death, and already the place seemed shabbier somehow. When Winsome knocked, Geoff Daniels answered. He averted his eyes and appeared embarrassed to see her, as well he might, but he stood aside and let her and Templeton enter. Donna McCarthy was in the living room sitting on an armchair. She looked as if she hadn’t slept since Sunday. There was a strained atmosphere, Winsome sensed, though she couldn’t tell whether Templeton felt it. Even if he did, in her experience, he would simply ignore it and do what he wanted anyway.

“Any news?” asked Donna, as her husband slumped down in another armchair by the window. Winsome and Templeton took the sofa, and Winsome automatically pulled her skirt down over her knees. If she’d known she was going to be riding out with Templeton this morning, she would have worn trousers. As it was, she’d gone and put on a business-style pinstripe skirt and matching jacket. Already, she could see him eyeing up Donna McCarthy, assessing his chances there.

“Perhaps,” said Templeton. “But we’ve got a few more questions to ask you.”

“Oh?” said Donna.

“You told DC Jackman here that you didn’t know of any particular boyfriends Hayley had, but that you thought she was sexually active. Am I right?”

Donna twisted her wedding ring. “Well… I…”

“Is that true, Donna?” Daniels butted in, face red with anger. “You told the police my daughter was some sort of slut?”

“I never said any such thing,” said Donna.

“You’ve got some room to talk,” said Templeton to Daniels, “tied to a bed while some young tart bounced up and down on your jollies.”

“What’s this?” Donna asked, looking at her husband. “What’s he talking about?”

“You mean you don’t know?” Templeton said, a smirk of disbelief on his face. “He didn’t tell you?”

“I didn’t think it was—” Winsome began.

“No,” Templeton went on, waving her down. “I think she should know.”

“Know what?” said Donna. “What are you talking about?”

“When we found your husband, he wasn’t at a convention, unless it was a convention of perverts. He was tied to a hotel bed while a naked young lady had her way with him. Our Winsome here got a front-row seat, didn’t you, love?”

“You bastard!” said Daniels. “I’ll bloody have you for that.”

“Is this true, Geoff? Who was she? That little bitch from the office, the one who can’t keep her legs closed?”

Winsome rolled her eyes. “Calm down, everyone,” she said. “I’m sorry, you’ll just have to deal with this between yourselves later. We have more important things to talk about. And no one implied that your daughter was promiscuous, Mr. Daniels.”

“She was innocent,” Daniels said. “Innocent. A victim. Do you both get that?”

Winsome nodded, but she could see that Templeton was rallying for another attack. Not a good sign. “Of course,” Templeton began. “And I’m sorry if I implied in any way that your late daughter was the town bicycle. That wasn’t my intention. The point is that it has come to our attention that she might have had a secret boyfriend. We were wondering if you could shed any light on this.”

“What boyfriend? Who said that?” said Daniels.

“It doesn’t matter who said it,” Templeton replied. “Is it true?”

“How would we know?” said Donna, still glaring at her husband. “If she kept it secret.”

“What do you think?” Templeton asked. “Were there any signs, any unexplained absences, any occasions she wouldn’t say where she was going, any nights she didn’t come home?”

“She sometimes stayed with friends from college if she went into Eastvale for a night out.”

“I know,” said Templeton. “She didn’t want to drive because she set out to get paralytic. Do you know that people can lose all sense of judgment when they’re that pissed?”

“I don’t think Hayley drank that much,” said Donna. “She was just having fun with her mates.”

“Come off it,” said Templeton. “She was so bladdered on Saturday she went off into the Maze alone for a piss. You can’t tell me that’s using good judgment.”

Donna started sobbing and Daniels lurched forward to make a grab for Templeton’s jacket collar, shouting, “How can you talk about our daughter like that, you filthy heartless bastard?”

“Gerroff!” said Templeton, pushing him away and straightening his jacket.

Wonderful, thought Winsome, regretting that Daniels hadn’t managed to land a good punch, another shambles of a Templeton interview. How on earth did such an insensitive pillock make sergeant in this day and age? She stepped into the breach. “Let’s all calm down. DS Templeton might not always be diplomatic in his approach, but he has raised some serious questions, and any answers you give may help us catch Hayley’s killer. Does either of you know anything about a boyfriend?”

They both shook their heads, Daniels glaring at Templeton the whole time and Donna looking as if she were ready to kill both of them.

“Well, somebody must know something,” Templeton said. “Surely you didn’t just let her run wild and do whatever she wanted?”

“She was nineteen, Mr. Templeton,” said Donna. “You can’t control a nineteen-year-old.”

Only with handcuffs in a bed, Winsome bet, making herself blush at the thought. “Did she never let anything slip?” she asked. “Or didn’t you notice any signs, woman-to-woman?”

“You’re making me feel guilty now,” Donna said, reaching for a tissue. “You’re saying I should have paid more attention and it might not have happened.”

“That’s not true,” Winsome said. “You shouldn’t blame yourself. There’s only one person responsible for what happened to Hayley, and that’s the killer.”

“But maybe if I’d just… I don’t know… been there…”

“Did you know she carried condoms in her handbag?” Templeton asked.