Peter Robinson - The Hanging Valley

‘Let’s call in at the station first,’ Banks said. ‘Something might have turned up.’ They were approaching the turn-off on to a minor road that would take them over the moors to Helmthorpe and the main valley road. ‘We can always drive to Swainshead later if there’s nothing new.’ He looked at his watch. ‘It’s not late, only nineish.’

Hatchley nodded and Banks drove past the exit ramp and on to the Eastvale road.

The station was quiet. There had been no serious crimes while Banks and Hatchley had been gone. There was, however, a message from John Fletcher timed at five o’clock that evening asking if they would call and see him as soon as possible. He said it was important — something to do with Stephen Collier’s death — and he would be at home all evening.

There was also a copy of Dr Glendenning’s preliminary post-mortem report on Stephen Collier. The doctor had found the equivalent of about five capsules of Nembutal in Collier’s system — not enough in itself to cause death but potentially lethal when mixed with alcohol. And his alcohol level had been far higher than the amount five or six pints would account for. It looked as if Banks was right and Collier had been slipped vodka in the pub and more drinks back at the house.

‘Should we go to see Fletcher tonight?’ Banks asked Hatchley. ‘Or leave it until tomorrow?’

Under normal circumstances he would have expected Hatchley to take any opportunity to get off work for a pint or a session on the sofa with Carol Ellis, but this time the sergeant was angry.

‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘Maybe Fletcher’s got the answer. I wouldn’t want to leave it till he went and got himself killed, too. And I wouldn’t mind paying a call on Nicholas bloody Collier either.’

‘Go away!’ Katie said, rushing forward and trying to close the door.

But Nicholas had his foot wedged in. ‘Let me in, Katie,’ he said. ‘I want to talk to you about Stephen. He was very fond of you, you know.’

‘He’s dead,’ Katie said, still pushing at the door with her shoulder. But Nicholas was too strong for her and the door knocked her backwards against the kitchen table as he entered. He shut the door behind him and walked towards her.

‘I won’t hurt you,’ he said. ‘I know you were talking to Stephen the day before he died. I just wondered if he’d been saying anything silly. He wasn’t well, you know.’ He reached out and grabbed Katie’s arm as she tried to slip away. ‘There’s no need to be afraid of me,’ he said, relaxing his grip a little. ‘No need to run away. I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk to you.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Katie said. ‘There was nothing wrong with Stephen.’

‘He was upset. He might have said things he didn’t mean.’

‘What things?’

‘I don’t know. That’s what I’m asking you, you stupid bitch,’ Nicholas shouted, then lowered his voice again. ‘Just tell me what you talked about. Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?’

‘I don’t have anything.’

‘Liar.’ Nicholas opened Sam’s drinks cabinet and poured himself a large gin. ‘I’ve been here before, remember? With Sam.’ He held out the glass. ‘Go on, have some. You like gin, don’t you?’

Katie shook her head. Nicholas hooked the back of her neck with one hand, put the glass to her closed lips and tipped it forward. The vile-smelling spirit spilled down Katie’s chin and on to the front of her dress. It burned her throat and made her gag.

‘Stop it!’ she cried, spluttering and pushing him away.

Nicholas laughed, showing his yellowed teeth, and put the glass down. He went back to the cabinet and poured himself some Scotch.

‘What did Stephen tell you?’ he asked.

‘Nothing.’ Katie coughed and rubbed at her lips with the back of her hand.

‘He must have said something. He was quite a one for confiding in the wrong people, Stephen was, especially women. And I saw you talking to that policeman. Where is he now? What’s he doing?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.’

‘What did he ask you? What did you say to him?’

‘Nothing. He doesn’t know anything.’

‘Stop lying, Katie. Did you do it with him too, just like you do with all the others?’

Katie turned pale. ‘What do you mean?’

Nicholas grinned. The dark comma of hair had flopped over his brow and his cheeks were flushed. ‘You know what I mean. Just like you did with Stephen and everyone else. Did you let him do it to you, Katie, that policeman?’

‘No!’

‘Oh, don’t be shy. You do it with everyone, don’t you? You know you’re nothing but a slut. A filthy whore. Tell me you’re a filthy whore, Katie, say it.’

‘I’m not.’

Katie rushed desperately for the connecting door, but Nicholas got there before her.

‘There’s no way out,’ he said. ‘All your guests are in the White Rose; I saw them. And Sam’s off with his fancy women as usual.’

‘He’s what?’

‘Didn’t you know? Oh, don’t tell me you didn’t know. All those times he goes off to see his friends in Leeds or Eastvale. It’s women, Katie. Loose women. Can’t you smell them on his skin when he comes home? Or do you like it when he comes straight from another woman and takes you? Do you like to smell other women on your husband’s skin?’

Katie put her hands to her ears. ‘Stop it! Stop it!’ she screamed. ‘You’re evil!’

Nicholas applauded quietly. ‘Oh, Katie, what an act.’

Katie dropped her hands to her sides. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Do? Why, I’m going to take you away from here. I don’t trust you, Katie. There’s no telling what you know and what you might say.’

‘I don’t know anything.’

‘I think you do. Stephen told you, didn’t he?’

‘Told me what?’

‘About Oxford.’

Katie could think of nothing to say.

‘Look at you blushing,’ Nicholas said, pointing at her. ‘You know, don’t you? I can tell. Be sure your sins will find you out.’

Suddenly, Katie realized what he meant and a terrible thought dawned on her.

‘You killed him,’ she said quietly. ‘You killed Stephen.’

Nicholas shrugged and spoke in a cold passionless voice. ‘I couldn’t trust him any more. He was falling apart on me.’

Katie stiffened. She felt like a trapped animal. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to take you away, far away. What did he tell you about Oxford?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Did he tell you about that girl, that stupid slut?’

Katie shook her head.

‘He did, didn’t he?’

‘No! He told me nothing.’

Nicholas leaned against the table. His bright eyes glittered and his breath came in short sharp gasps. He looked like a madman to Katie. A wild, terrifying madman.

‘She was nothing but a prostitute, Katie,’ he said. ‘A fallen woman. She sold herself to men. And when I… when I took her, she didn’t… She told me I was too rough and she tried to make me stop. Me! Nicholas Collier. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I knew that was the way she really wanted it. A common tart like her. Like you.’

‘No!’ Katie said. ‘I’m not.’

‘Yes, you are. I’ve had my eye on you. You do it with everyone. Do they pay you, Katie, or do you do it for nothing? I know you like to struggle. I’ll pay you if you want.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I want you to say it for me. Say you’re a filthy whore.’

‘I’m not.’

‘What’s wrong? Why won’t you say it? I bet you even let that policeman do it. I’m better than the lot of them, Katie. Say it.’

‘No! I won’t.’