Banks, who had been thinking that now the peeper had escalated to more serious crimes, was surprised by Thelma's description.

"Criminals?" he asked. "You mean there was more than one?"

"There were two of them. Kids, I think. They were wearing balaclavas. Only one of them raped me. The other said he didn't fancy 'sloppy seconds.' That's the way he put it, Inspector, his exact words-'sloppy seconds.' " She pointed to her bruise. "He's the one that kicked me."

Banks didn't know what to say, and into the uneasy silence Thelma dropped what turned out to be the best lead of all.

"There's another thing," she said, looking away from him toward the wall as if she were examining the idyllic autumn scene on the calendar. "I've got VD."

II

Over the next half-hour, Banks listened to the details of Thelma Pitt's story as PC Susan Gay transcribed them.

Every Monday night Thelma went to the bar of the Eastvale Golf Club, where she kept up her association with some of the people she had got to know in earlier, better days. There was one man in particular, a Lewis Micklethwaite, with whom she had been going out for several weeks.

During a long weekend in London with a female friend a couple of weeks ago, Thelma had, while not entirely sober, allowed herself to be picked up by a younger man in a pub and had subsequently spent the night with him. She didn't remember much about the experience, but the following morning she felt terrible: physically and emotionally hungover. The young man lived in a small flat off the Brixton Road, and Thelma rushed outside as fast as she could and, unable to find a taxi, took the first bus into central London, returning to her friend at the hotel.

"To cut a long story short," she said, "I found out just over a week later that the bastard had kindly passed on his disease to me-gonorrhea."

That was why she had left the Golf Club early. She didn't want to tell Lewis, nor did she want to infect him. They argued. He seemed unusually perturbed about her going, but she ran off anyway. And as a result of that, she had disturbed the burglars and got herself raped.

"Can you describe them at all?" Banks asked. "You said they were wearing balaclavas?"

"Yes."

"What color?"

"Gray. Both gray."

"Any idea how old they were?"

"By the way they spoke and acted, I'd say they were both in their teens."

"How can you be sure?"

"The one who raped me was inexperienced. It was all over mercifully fast. I'd say it was his first time. A woman can tell these things, you know, Inspector."

"What about the other?"

"I think he was scared. He talked tough, but I don't think he dared do anything. He was smaller, more squat, and he had a very ugly voice. Raspy. And piggy eyes. He was edgy. I think he might have been on drugs. The one who raped me was leaner and taller. He didn't say an awful lot. I noticed nothing peculiar about his voice. His eyes were blue, and his breath didn't smell too good."

"Did they call each other by name?"

"No. They were careful not to do that."

"What about the rest of their clothing? Anything distinctive?"

Thelma Pitt shook her head. "Just what lots of kids wear these days. Bomber jackets, jeans…"

"There's nothing else you can remember?"

"Oh, I remember it all quite vividly, Inspector. I've replayed it over in my mind a hundred times since Monday. But that's all there is that's likely to help you.

Unless it's of any use to know that the boy who raped me was wearing white Y-fronts. Marks and Sparks, I think," she added bitterly. Then she put her head in her hands and started to weep. Susan Gay comforted her, and after a few moments, Thelma Pitt again made the effort to control her feelings.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "That was uncalled for."

Banks shrugged. "It must have been a terrifying experience," he said, feeling completely inadequate. "Would you recognize them again?"

"Yes, I think so. In the same circumstances. But that wouldn't help you because I can't identify their faces."

"That might not be necessary.'"

"I'd recognize the squat one's voice and eyes any time. As for the other… I do remember that he had a bit of decay between one of his front teeth and the one next to it, as if a filling had come out, But I couldn't give you a positive identification. I couldn't swear to anything in court."

She was remarkably calm as she relived it, Banks thought, trying to imagine the inner strength and courage it took to deal with such horror.

Finally, she described the jewelry that had been stolen, along with a valuable camera, then Banks let her leave, promising to get in touch as soon as anything happened. He also suggested, though it was much too late, that she see a doctor and have him look for and record any signs of assault for the purposes of evidence.

As soon as PC Gay had escorted Thelma Pitt from his office, Banks phoned Dr. Glendenning. He was with a patient, so his receptionist said, but would call back in about ten minutes.

"What is it?" the old doctor asked brusquely about twenty minutes later.

"VD," Banks said. "Gonorrhea, to be specific. What do you know about it?"

"Ah, gonorrhea," Glendenning said, wanning to the subject like a general admiring a brave opponent. "More commonly known as the clap, Cupid's revenge."

"What are the symptoms?"

"Discharge, a burning sensation while urinating. Inspector Banks, I hope you're not trying to tell me that you-"

"It's not me," Banks snapped, adding "you silly old sod" under his breath. "How soon do the symptoms appear?"

"It varies," Glendenning went on, unruffled. "Three to ten days is about usual."

"Treatment?"

"Penicillin. There have to be tests first, of course, just to make sure it isn't something else-particularly syphilis. The early symptoms can be similar."

"Where would a person find treatment?"

"Well, in the old days, of course, he'd go to his GP or perhaps to the infirmary. But nowadays, what with all the sexual promiscuity and what not, there are specialized VD clinics all over the place. Confidential treatment, naturally."

Banks had, indeed, heard of such places. "There's one here in Eastvale, right?" he asked. "Attached to the hospital?"

"Yes. And one in York."

"None nearer?"

"Not unless you count Darlington or Leeds."

"Thank you, doctor," Banks said hurriedly. "Thank you very much."

As soon as he'd hung up, he called in Hatchley and Richmond, and after explaining the situation, had them phone all the clinics within a fifty-mile radius and ask about a lean, tall teenager with decay between his front teeth, who would probably be very vague about where he had contracted the disease.

Fifteen minutes later, he was informed that nobody fitting that description had been into any of the clinics, which meant either that the suspect had not experienced the symptoms yet or that he was still worrying about what to do. Hatchley and Richmond had also requested that the staff of each clinic be on the lookout, and that they call their nearest police station if they became suspicious about anyone looking for treatment. After that, Hatchley phoned the local police in each area and asked them to detain the boy if he appeared at the clinic and to call Banks immediately.

Later, Banks talked to Jenny Fuller at her York University office and told her about Thelma Pitt. It wasn't part of the peeper case, but it was a sexual crime and he needed a woman's advice.

"Have you sent her for any help?" Jenny asked.

"I suggested she see a doctor. Mostly for our own official purposes, I have to admit."

"That won't do her a lot of good, Alan. There's a Rape Crisis Center in York, a place where people can talk about their problems. I'm surprised you don't know about it. A lot of women find it hard to get on with their lives after an experience like that. Some never recover. Anyway, these people can help. They're not just doctors-a lot of them have been rape victims themselves. Just a minute and I'll get you the number."