“Did you tell Clough what her real name was?”

Ruth jerked forward. “Give me a break! Why would I do something like that?”

“Only asking. So you didn’t?”

“No fucking way.”

“Has he been in touch with you at all, asking about her?”

“No. I haven’t seen anything of him at all.”

“What about Craig? Did you tell him?”

“No, but he might have known. She might have told him herself.”

“But you didn’t?”

“I didn’t tell anyone. I can keep a secret.”

Banks lit a cigarette and leaned back in the armchair. “How have you been, Ruth?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Just a simple question. Healthy? Happy?”

“I’m doing all right. As well as can be expected. Why do you want to know?”

“How’s work?”

“Fine.”

“What exactly is it that you do?”

“Computers. It’s pretty boring stuff.”

“But steady? Well-paid?”

“It’s steady. That’s about the best you can say.”

“Do you own a car?”

Ruth got up and Banks followed her to the window. “There,” she said pointing, “that clapped-out cream Fiesta down there.”

Banks smiled. “I had one like that a few years back,” he said. “Cortina, actually. Nobody believed I could possibly be driving such a thing. They’d stopped making them years ago. But it was a good car, while it lasted.”

“Well,” said Ruth, folding her arms at the window. “It’ll have to last me a few years longer, that’s for sure.”

They sat down again. “Been on any trips lately?” Banks asked.

“Nope.”

“Seeing anyone?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Just being friendly.”

“Well, you don’t have to be. Remember, you’re a copper and I’m a suspect.”

“Suspect? What makes you think that?”

A nasty smile twisted Ruth’s features. “Because I know you coppers. You wouldn’t be here otherwise, asking all sorts of questions. No matter. I didn’t do it. You can’t blame me.”

“I’m not trying to. How do you know coppers, Ruth? Ever been arrested?”

“No. I read the papers, though, watch the news. I know what racist, sexist bastards you are.”

Banks laughed. “You must be thinking of Dirty Dick.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Seeing as how you think you’re a suspect, though, you might as well tell me where you were on Thursday.”

“I was here. At home.”

“Not at work?”

“I had a cold. Still have. I was off Thursday and Friday. Does that mean I’ve got no alibi?”

“You haven’t been on any trips recently?”

“No. I told you. I haven’t been anywhere. And for your information, no, I’m not screwing anyone, either. You’ve got to be careful these days. It’s a lot different from when you were young, you know. We’ve got AIDS to think about. The worst you had to worry about was crabs or a dose of clap. Either way, it wasn’t going to kill you.”

Banks smiled. “I suppose you’re right. Did you ever go up to visit Emily in Yorkshire over the past month?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Too busy at work. Besides, she never asked me.” Ruth snorted. “I can see why now.”

“Why?”

“It said in the paper that her father’s a chief constable and her mother’s a solicitor. They don’t sound exactly the sort of people she’d want to introduce someone like me to.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Banks. “You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself.”

Ruth flushed. “I know what I am.”

“Do you know Emily’s mother at all? Rosalind?”

“No. Why should I?”

“Just wondering.”

“Like I said, she’d hardly take me home to meet her mum and dad.”

“I suppose not. So you never spoke with her?”

“She answered the phone a couple of times when I called.”

“So the two of you have spoken?”

“Only to say hello, like, and ask for Emily.”

“Rosalind didn’t ask you any questions?”

“No. Just my name, that’s all.”

“And you told her?”

“Why wouldn’t I? What is this? Are you trying to make out her mother killed her now?”

“I hardly think so. Just trying to get things clear, that’s all. Have you seen anything of Craig?”

Ruth made herself more comfortable in the armchair, sitting with her legs curled under. “As a matter of fact, he phoned me after he heard about Emily on the news yesterday morning. We had lunch together. He had to come into town.”

“What for? To pay a call at GlamourPuss?”

“How would I know? He didn’t say.”

“How did he seem?”

“Fine, I guess. I mean, we were both upset. Emily breezed in and out of both our lives. But if you’ve met her, then you’d know she certainly leaves an impression. The thought of somebody doing that to her… it’s too much to bear. You are certain it wasn’t just an accident, aren’t you? An overdose?”

“We’re certain.”

“Like I said, we were… you know, we couldn’t believe it. What about her father?”

“What about him?”

“Do you think he might have done it? I mean, she used to go on about how horrible he was, and if anyone can get hold of drugs and poisons, it’s the police.”

“Remember, he’s the one who wanted her back.”

“Yes,” said Ruth, leaning forward and lowering her voice to a whisper. “You told me that. But why did he want her back? Have you ever thought about that?”

Though it was Saturday, there was no time off for Eastvale CID that weekend. It would cost a fortune in overtime, but ACC McLaughlin and Superintendent Gristhorpe would hardly hesitate to approve the budget; there would be no stinting on this case. If Annie hadn’t seen the body for herself, she might have felt a little uncomfortable about the favoritism of it all, but having seen it, she knew that even if the victim had been a pox-ridden whore she would have been working on the case today, and working for nothing if she had to.

And Banks, the SIO, was down in London. Which left Annie in charge. She understood that he had to go and follow the leads he already knew about, but it left her with an unbearably heavy load, especially after so little sleep, and she couldn’t help but still feel irritated with him. After their little talk the previous day, she had softened toward him, but she still felt that he was holding something back. She didn’t know why or what it was about – something to do with Emily’s sojourn in London, she suspected – but it gave her the feeling that he knew something she didn’t. And she didn’t like that.

Already that morning she had called in at the incident room and found it the usual hive of activity. Winsome was sitting at the computer looking flustered as the pile of green sheets for entry into HOLMES rose quickly beside her, and Gavin Rickerd looked as if he had found his true calling in life making sure every scrap of information was neatly logged and numbered. He also looked as if he hadn’t slept since the murder.

After that, Annie had organized the investigation into Emily’s whereabouts between three and seven. She had ordered the posters the previous day and they were waiting when she got in. Banks had given her the photo he wanted used, and Annie thought it made Emily look a bit slutty. He said that was how people would remember her, and there was no point asking her parents for the sort of sanitized school photo or studio portrait they were likely to have. He also insisted that her description stressed that she looked older than her sixteen years.

The photo came above the question, “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?” and that in turn was followed by the description, the hours they were interested in, and a telephone number to contact. She had sent out half a dozen uniformed officers to fix them to hoardings and telegraph poles along all the main streets and in as many shop windows as they could manage. After that, the officers were engaged in conducting a house-to-house in central Eastvale and the area around the Black Bull. Despite the stolen driving license, Emily didn’t drive or have access to a car, as far as anyone knew, so the odds were that she had stayed in town. She could have taken a bus or a train, of course, so both stations were being thoroughly covered. There was every chance that a bus driver, fellow passenger, or ticket vendor would remember her if she had traveled anywhere in the missing four hours.