‘I shouldn’t worry too much,’ Banks offered. ‘People pay much less attention to the gutter press during the Christmas season. Do you know if Caroline had any affairs while she was living with you? With men or women?’
Veronica fingered the neckline of her sweatshirt. ‘You’re very forthright, aren’t you?’
‘I sometimes have to be. Can you answer the question?’
Veronica paused, then said, ‘As far as I know she didn’t. And I think I would have known. Of course, she was attractive to men, and she knew it. She dealt with it as best she could.’
‘What were her feelings about men?’
‘Fear, contempt.’
‘Why?’
Veronica looked down into her glass and almost whispered. ‘Who can say where something like that starts? I don’t know.’
‘What about you?’
‘My feelings toward men?’
‘Yes.’
‘I can’t see how that’s relevant, Chief Inspector, but I certainly don’t hate men. I suppose I fear them somewhat, like Caroline, but perhaps not as much. They threaten me, in a way, but I have no trouble dealing with them in the course of business. Mostly they confuse me. I certainly have no desire ever to live with one again.’ She had finished her sherry and put the glass down on the low table as though announcing the end of the interview.
‘Are you sure she wasn’t involved with any members of the cast? Things like that do happen, you know, when people work together.’
Veronica shook her head. ‘All I can say is that she never came home late or stayed out all night.’
‘Did Caroline’s brother ever visit you here?’ Susan asked.
‘Gary? He hardly left the house as far as I know.’
‘You never met him?’
‘No.’
‘Did he know where the two of you lived?’
‘Of course he did. Caroline told me she gave him the address in case of emergency. She’d drop by every once in a while to see how things were with her father.’
‘You never went with her?’
‘No. She didn’t want me to.’
Banks could understand why. ‘Did anyone know you were going shopping after your therapy session the other evening?’ he asked.
‘Nobody. At least, I… I mean, Caroline knew.’
‘Apart from Caroline.’
‘She might have told someone, though I can’t think why. I certainly don’t announce such domestic trivia to the world at large.’
‘Of course not. But you might have mentioned it to someone?’
‘I might have. In passing.’
‘But you can’t remember to whom?’
‘I can’t even remember mentioning it to anyone other than Ursula, my therapist. Why is it important?’
‘Did your husband know?’
She uncrossed her legs and shifted in her chair. Claude? Why would he?’
‘I don’t know. You tell me.’
Veronica shook her head. ‘I told you, I’ve not seen him for a while. He phoned me yesterday to offer his condolences, but I don’t think it would be a good time tor us to meet again. Not for a while.’
‘Tell me, is there any chance that your husband knew Caroline Hartley before you introduced them?’
‘What a strange question. No, of course he didn’t. How could he, without my knowing?’
Banks shook his head and gestured to Susan that they were about to leave. They stood up.
‘Thanks for your time,’ Banks said at the door. ‘I hope it wasn’t too painful for you.’
‘Not too much, no. Incomprehensible, perhaps, but the pain was bearable.’
Banks smiled. ‘I told you, it’s best to leave the sorting out to us.’
She looked away. ‘Yes.’
As he turned, she suddenly touched his arm and he swung around to face her again. ‘Chief Inspector,’ she said. ‘This woman, Ruth. If you do find her, would you tell me? I know it’s foolish, but I’d really like to meet her. From what Caroline told me, Ruth had quite an influence on her, on the kind of life she’d begun to make for herself. I’m being honest with you. I know nothing more about her than that.’
Banks nodded. ‘All right, I’ll see what I can do. And if you remember anything else, please call me.’
She started to say something, but it turned into a quick ‘Goodbye’ and a hastily closed door.
The chill hit them as soon as they walked out into Oakwood Mews. Banks shivered and slipped on his black leather gloves, a Christmas present from Sandra. The sky looked like iron and the pavement was slick with ice.
‘Well,’ Susan said, as they walked carefully down the street, ‘she didn’t have much to tell us, did she?’
‘She’s holding back. I think she’s telling the truth about not knowing the woman in the photograph, but she’s holding back about almost everything else. Maybe you could pick up the key from the station and drop in at the community centre. Caroline may have left some of her things there, in a locker, maybe, or a dressing-table drawer.’
Susan nodded. ‘Do you think we should bring her in to the station and press her a bit harder? I’m sure she knows something. Maybe if we kept her for a while, wore down her resistance…?’
Banks looked at Susan and saw a smart young woman with earnest blue eyes, tight blonde curls and a slightly snub nose gazing back at him. Good as she is, he thought, she’s got a long way to go yet.
‘No,’ he said. ‘It won’t do any good. She’s not holding back for reasons of guilt. It’s a matter of pride and privacy with her. You might break her, given time, but you’d have to strip her of her dignity to do so, and she doesn’t deserve that.’
Whether Susan understood or not, Banks didn’t really know. She nodded slowly, a puzzled look clouded her eyes, then she shoved her hands deep in the pockets of her navy-blue coat and marched up King Street beside him. The crusted ice crackled and creaked under their winter boots.
THREE
There were certainly no dressing rooms at the community centre, not even for the lead players; nor were there any lockers. Susan wondered how they would manage when the play opened and they had to wear costumes and make-up. As she nosed around idly, she reflected on her Christmas.
On Christmas morning she had weakened and considered going to Sheffield, but in the end she had phoned and said she couldn’t make it because of an important murder investigation. ‘A murder?’ her mother had echoed. ‘How lurid. Well, dear, if you insist.’ And that was that. She had spent the day studying and watching the old musicals on television. But at least, she remembered with a smile, she had been on time on Christmas Eve to buy a small tree and a few decorations. At least she had made the flat look a bit more like a home, even if there were still a few things missing.
There was not much else they could do about identifying the three visitors Caroline Hartley had received on the evening of her death until they had more information about the record and the woman in the photograph. They wouldn’t get that until the shops and businesses were back into the swing of things again in a day or two. Banks had suggested a second visit to Harrogate for the following day, and though Susan was hardly looking forward to that, she was interested in what Banks would make of the set-up there.
Susan wasn’t sure about Veronica Shildon at all, especially now that she had met her. The woman was too stiff and thin-lipped – the kind one could imagine teaching in an exclusive girls’ school – and her posh accent and prissy mannerisms stuck in her craw. The idea of the two women in bed together made Susan’s flesh crawl.
As she poked around, looking for anything that might have been connected with Caroline, she thought she heard a noise down the hallway. It could have come from anywhere. The backstage area, she had quickly discovered, was a warren of store rooms and cubby-holes. Slowly, she walked towards the stage entrance and peeked through a fire door. The lights were on in the auditorium, which seemed odd, but it was silent and she saw no one. Puzzled, she went to the props room.
Marcia had scrubbed the graffiti from the walls, Susan noticed, leaving only garish smears in places. The trunk of tattered costumes had gone. It was a shame about the vandals, she thought, but there was nothing, really, she could do. As she had told Conran and Marcia, the police had a good idea who the culprits were, but they didn’t have the manpower to put a round the clock watch on them and could hardly arrest them with no evidence at all. PCs Tolliver and Bradley had had a word with the suspected ringleaders, but the kids were so cool and arrogant they had given nothing away.