Read Online Playing with Fire by Peter Robinson - Free Book Online Page A

artist’s briefcase?”
    â€œI suppose that’s what you’d call it.”
    So if Tom was an artist, Banks thought, then this was probably his dealer or agent. Worth looking into. “When did you last see him?” he asked.
    â€œYesterday.”
    â€œYesterday when?”
    â€œJust after dark. I hadn’t been home from work long.”
    â€œHow long did he stay?”
    â€œI don’t know. I went back inside before he left. I was having a smoke and Tina doesn’t like me smoking indoors. It was cold.”
    â€œSo he could have still been there after you left for the pub?”
    â€œHe could’ve been, I suppose. I didn’t hear him leave. We did have the music on, though.”
    â€œWhat about the other visitor?”
    â€œI can’t really say. It was just the once, maybe two, three weeks ago. It was dark that time, too.”
    â€œCan you remember anything at all about him?”
    â€œOnly that he was shorter than the other bloke, and a bit fatter. I mean, not really fat, but not skinny, if you know what I mean.”
    â€œDid you see his face?”
    â€œOnly when Tom opened the door. I can tell you his nose was a bit big. And hooked, like an eagle. But I only saw it from the side.”
    â€œDid you ever see any cars parked in the lay-by through the woods?”
    â€œOnce or twice.”
    â€œWhat cars?”
    â€œI remember seeing one of those jeep things. Dark blue.”
    â€œJeep Cherokee? Range Rover?”
    â€œI don’t know. Just a dark blue jeep. Or black.”
    â€œAnything else?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œBut you never saw anyone getting in or out of it?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWas it there yesterday, when the man came?”
    â€œI didn’t see it, but I didn’t look. I mean, it was dark, I’d have had to have been walking that way. I’d seen it there before when he visited, though. The tall bloke.”
    â€œCan you remember anything else that happened before you went out yesterday?” Banks asked.
    â€œThat sad bastard from the lockkeeper’s cottage was round again on his bike.”
    â€œAndrew Hurst? What was he doing here?”
    â€œSame as always. Spying. He thinks I can’t see him in the woods, but I can see him all right.”
    Just like we saw you, Banks thought. “Who is he spying on?”
    â€œDunno. If you ask me, though, he’s after seeing Tina without her clothes on.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    â€œThe way he ogles her whenever he’s around. He just looks like a perv to me, that’s all, and he’s always lurking, spying. Why else would he do that?”
    Good question, Banks thought. And it was interesting that Andrew Hurst had specifically mentioned that he didn’t spy on the people on the boats. He also hadn’t told Banks and Annie about his earlier visit during their conversation that morning. Banks would have to have another chat with the self-styled lockkeeper.
    â€œWhat’s going to happen to Tina now?” Mark asked.
    Banks didn’t want to go into the gory details of the postmortem, so he just said, “We’ll be hanging on to her until we’ve got this sorted.”
    â€œAnd after? I mean, there’ll be a funeral, won’t there?”
    â€œOf course,” said Banks. “Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to abandon her.”
    â€œOnly once we were talking, like you do, and she said when she died she wanted ‘Stolen Car’ played at her funeral. Beth Orton. It was her favorite. She wanted to be a singer.”
    â€œI’m sure that can be arranged. But that’s a while off yet. What are you going to do in the meantime?”
    â€œFind somewhere to live, I suppose.”
    â€œThe social will help out. With your clothes and money and accommodation and all. Talking about that, have you got any money?”
    â€œI’ve got about ten quid in my wallet. There was