The Summer That Never Was

The Summer That Never Was by Peter Robinson Page B

Book: The Summer That Never Was by Peter Robinson Read Free Book Online
Authors: Peter Robinson
Tags: Fiction, Mystery
Ads: Link
tell me from the start you were a DCI instead of playing games and stringing me along, making me feel like a complete fool?”
    “Because I didn’t want to give the impression I was trying to interfere. I’m simply here as someone who knew Graham. Besides, why did you have to come on soheavy-handed? I came here to volunteer information. There was no need to put me in an interview room and use the same tactics you use on a suspect. I’m surprised you didn’t leave me here alone to stew for an hour.”
    “You’re making me wish I had.”
    They glared at one another in silence for a few moments, then Banks said, “Look, I’m sorry. I had no intention of making you feel foolish. And you don’t need to. Why should you? It’s true that I knew Graham. We were close friends at school. We lived on the same street. But this isn’t my case, and I don’t want you to think I’m pushing my nose in or anything. That’s why I didn’t announce myself at first. I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have told you I was on the Job right from the start. Okay?”
    Michelle gazed at him through narrowed eyes for a while, then twitched the corners of her lips in a brief smile and nodded. “Your name came up when I was talking to his parents. I would have got in touch eventually.”
    “The powers that be not exactly overwhelming you with assistance on this one, then?”
    Michelle snorted. “You could say that. One DC. It’s not a high-priority case, and I’m the new kid on the block. New girl .”
    “I know what you mean,” Banks said. He remembered first meeting Annie Cabbot when she was put out to pasture at Harkside and he was in outer Siberia back in Eastvale. That hadn’t been a high-priority case to start with, either, but it had turned into one. He could sympathize with DI Hart.
    “Anyway,” she went on, “I didn’t know you were a copper. I suppose I should call you ‘sir’? Rank and all?”
    “Not necessary. I’m not one to stand on ceremony. Besides, I’m on your patch here. You’re the boss. I do have a suggestion, though.”
    “Oh?”
    Banks looked at his watch. “It’s one o’clock. I drove down from Eastvale this morning without stopping and I haven’thad a thing to eat. Why don’t we get out of this depressing room and talk about Graham over lunch? I’ll pay.”
    Michelle raised on eyebrow. “You asking me out to lunch?”
    “To discuss the case. Over lunch. Yes. Dammit, I’m hungry. Know any decent pubs around here?”
    She gazed at him again, apparently appraising him for any imminent risk he might pose to her. When she couldn’t seem to think of anything, she said, “Okay. I know a place. Come on. But I’m paying my own way.”
     
    What a stupid bloody decision it had been to take to the high ground, Annie Cabbot thought as she trudged illegally up the footpath, trying to avoid the little clusters of sheep droppings that seemed to be everywhere, and failing, as often as not. Her legs ached and she was panting with effort, even though she thought of herself as pretty fit.
    She wasn’t dressed for a walk in the country, either. Knowing she was visiting the Armitages again that morning, she had dressed in a skirt and blouse. She was even wearing tights. Not to mention the navy pumps that were crippling her. It was a hot day, and she could feel the sweat trickling along every available channel. Stray tresses of hair stuck to her cheeks and forehead.
    As she climbed, she kept glancing behind at the shepherd’s shelter, but nobody approached it. She could only hope that she hadn’t been spotted, that the kidnapper, if that was what this was all about, wasn’t watching her through binoculars from a comfortable distance.
    She found a spot she thought would do. It was a gentle dip in the daleside a few yards off the footpath. From there she could lie on her stomach and keep a close eye on the shelter without being seen from below.
    Annie felt the warm, damp grass against her body, smelled

Similar Books

Morgan's Wife

Lindsay McKenna

DoubleDown V

John R. Little and Mark Allan Gunnells

Purity

Jonathan Franzen

The Christmas Quilt

Patricia Davids