“Tell me,” said Jenny, “why did none of you tell the authorities what was going on?”

Keith and Laura looked at each other in that intense way again. “We didn’t dare,” Keith said. “They said they’d kill us if we ever told a soul.”

“And they were… they were family,” Laura added. “I mean, you wanted your mummy and daddy to love you, didn’t you, so you had to do, you know, what they wanted, you had to do what the grown-ups said or your d-d-daddy wouldn’t love you anymore.”

Jenny sipped some tea to cover her face for a moment. She wasn’t sure whether anger or pity had brought the tears to her eyes but she didn’t want Laura to see them.

“Besides,” Keith went on, “we didn’t know any different. How could we know life was different for other kids?”

“What about at school? You must have kept yourselves apart, been aware that you were different?”

“We kept apart, yes. We were told not to talk about what happened. It was family, and nobody else’s business.”

“What were you doing in Alderthorpe?”

“I’m writing a book,” Keith said. “A book about what happened. It’s partly therapeutic and partly because I think people should know what goes on, so maybe it can be prevented from happening again.”

“Why did you follow me?”

“I thought you might be a reporter or something, poking about the place like that.”

“You’d better get used to that idea, Keith. It won’t take them long to find out about Alderthorpe. I’m surprised they’re not swarming around already.”

“I know.”

“So you thought I was a reporter. What were you going to do about me?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see where you were going, make sure you were gone.”

“And what if I’d come back?”

Keith spread his hands, palms up. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Did you realize it was Linda as soon as the news about the Paynes broke?”

“I did, yes,” said Laura. “It wasn’t a good photo, but I knew she’d married Terry. I knew where she lived.”

“Did you ever get together, keep in touch?”

“Not often. We did, until Susan committed suicide and Tom went to Australia. And Keith and I visit Dianne as often as we can. But as I said, Linda was always distant, older. I mean, we met up sometimes, for birthdays, that sort of thing, but I thought she was weird.”

“In what way?”

“I don’t know. It was an evil thought. I mean, she’d suffered the same as we had.”

“But it seemed to have affected her in a different way,” Keith added.

“What way?”

“I didn’t see her nearly as often as Laura did,” he went on, “but she always gave me the impression that she was up to something bad, something deliciously evil. It was just the way she spoke, the hint of sin. She was secretive, so she never told us exactly what she was doing, but…”

“She was into some pretty weird stuff,” Laura said, blushing. “S and M. That sort of thing.”

“She told you?”

“Once. Yes. She only did it to embarrass me. I’m not comfortable talking about sex.” She hugged herself and avoided Jenny’s eyes.

“And Linda liked to embarrass you?”

“Yes. Tease me, I suppose.”

“Wasn’t it a shock to you, what Terry had done, with Linda so close by, especially after the events of your childhood?”

“Of course it was,” said Keith. “It still is. We’re still trying to come to terms with it.”

“That’s partly why I’m here,” said Laura. “I needed to be with Keith. To talk. To decide what to do.”

“What do you mean, what to do?”

“But we didn’t want to be rushed,” said Keith.

Jenny leaned forward “What is it?” she asked. “What is it you need to do?”

They looked at each other again, and Jenny waited what seemed like ages before Keith spoke. “We’d better tell her, don’t you think?” he said.

“I suppose so.”

“Tell me what?”

“About what happened. That’s what we’ve been trying to decide, you see. Whether we should tell.”

“But I’m sure you can understand,” Keith said, “that we don’t want the limelight anymore. We don’t want it all raked up again.”

“Your book will do that,” Jenny said.

“I’ll deal with that when and if it happens.” He leaned forward. “Anyway, you’ve sort of forced our hand, haven’t you? We would probably have told someone soon, anyway, so it might as well be you, now.”

“I’m still not sure what you want to tell me,” she said.

Laura looked at her, tears in her eyes. “It’s about Kathleen. Our parents didn’t kill her, Tom didn’t kill her. Linda killed her. Linda killed Kathleen.”

Mick Blair was surly when Banks and Winsome entered the interview room at three thirty-five that afternoon. As well he might be, Banks thought. He had been dragged away from his job as a clerk in the Tandy shop in the Swainsdale Centre by two uniformed police officers and left waiting in the dingy room for over an hour. It was a wonder he wasn’t screaming for his brief. Banks would have been.

“Just another little chat, Mick,” said Banks, smiling as he turned on the tape recorders. “But we’ll get it on record this time. That way you can be certain there’s no funny business from us.”

“Very grateful, I’m sure,” said Blair. “And why the hell did you have to keep me waiting so long?”

“Important police business,” said Banks. “The bad guys just never stop.”

“What’s Sarah doing here?”

“Sarah?”

“You know who I mean. Sarah Francis. Ian’s girlfriend. I saw her in the corridor. What’s she doing here?”

“Just answering our questions, Mick, the way I hope you will.”

“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time on me. I can’t tell you anything you don’t know already.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Mick.”

“What’s it about this time, then?” He eyed Winsome suspiciously.

“It’s about the night Leanne Wray disappeared.”

“Again? But we’ve been over and over all that.”

“Yes, I know, but we haven’t got to the truth yet. See, it’s like peeling off the layers of an onion, Mick. All we’ve got so far is layer after layer of lies.”

“It’s the truth. She left us outside the Old Ship and we went our separate ways. We didn’t see her again. What else can I tell you?”

“The truth. Where the four of you went.”

“I’ve told you all I know.”

“You see, Mick,” Banks went on, “Leanne was upset that day. She’d just heard some bad news. Her stepmother was going to have a baby. You might not understand why, but believe me, that upset her. So I should think that night she was in a rebellious mood, ready to say to hell with the curfew, and let’s have some fun. Make her parents suffer a bit at the same time. I don’t know whose suggestion it was, maybe yours, but you decided to steal a car-”

“Now, wait a minute-”

“A car belonging to Mr. Samuel Gardner, a blue Fiat Brava, to be exact, which was parked just around the corner from the pub.”

“That’s ridiculous! We never stole no car. You can’t pin that on us.”

“Shut up and listen, Mick,” said Winsome. Blair looked at her, then swallowed and shut up. Winsome’s expression was hard and unflinching, her eyes full of scorn and disgust.

“Where did you go on your little joyride, Mick?” Banks asked. “What happened? What happened to Leanne? Was she giving you the come-on? Did you think it was going to be your lucky night? Did you try it on with her and she changed her mind? Did you get a bit rough? Were you on drugs, Mick?”

“No! It’s not true. None of it’s true. She left us outside the pub.”

“You sound like a drowning man clinging to a bit of wood, Mick. Pretty soon you’ll have to let go.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then prove it.”

“Listen, Mick,” said Winsome, standing up and pacing the small room. “We’ve got Mr. Gardner’s car in the police garage right now and our forensics people are going over it inch by inch. Are you trying to tell us that they won’t find anything?”