When the Music's Over by Peter Robinson Page A

trees.”
    â€œAnd it started up again?”
    â€œA few minutes later.”
    Bingo, thought Annie. That was long enough to beat the girl to death. The second car, coming from the same direction ten or fifteen minutes later, when she had managed to stagger half a mile or so back up the road after being thrown naked out of a van.
    â€œDid you hear anything during the time it was stopped?”
    â€œI heard a car door slam, then someone’s voice. It might have been a scream and some shouting. I thought it was just someone being noisy. A drunk stopping to be sick or something, and her friend shouting at her. I’m sorry.” She put her fist to her mouth and started sobbing. Toby put his arm around her.
    â€œYou weren’t to know,” Annie said. “It’s a wonder you could hear anything at all from so far away.”
    â€œMy hearing’s good, as a rule. And as I said, sounds carry in the country in the dark. Mostly I just heard the car engines and the music in the distance, and the music was so loud and unusual. That’s why it seemed odd . . . I . . . I’m sorry. Perhaps if I’d realized what was happening, called the police . . .”
    â€œThere was nothing you could have done,” Annie reassured her. There was no way Mandy could have heard a girl being beaten todeath almost a mile away, even if she had heard the music, the car engines and the whooping. And perhaps a scream. The victim would have stopped screaming soon after the first blow and the sounds of punching and kicking would have been muffled and wouldn’t have carried over the distance.
    â€œYou said ‘her friend’ a moment ago, when you mentioned someone being sick. Did you hear a woman’s voice?”
    â€œI must have done, I suppose.”
    â€œAnd a man’s? The friend shouting at her?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWas he angry?”
    â€œI don’t know. I could only hear sounds, not words or anything.”
    â€œBut he shouted?”
    â€œLoud enough for me to hear. Yes.”
    â€œIs there anything else you can tell us?”
    â€œWell, there is one thing. The second car turned and went back the way it came. The gears made a sort of crunching sound, like when you do a three-point turn in a hurry. And again I could see the direction from the glow of the lights. That seemed odd.”
    â€œIt didn’t drive on down the lane?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDid you hear anything, Mr. Ketteridge?”
    â€œI was fast asleep,” said Toby. He smiled. “Getting as much in as I can before the wee one comes along.” He patted his wife’s knee and stood up. “I think my wife should rest now, if you don’t mind. You can see she’s distraught.”
    Annie handed him her card. “If either of you thinks of anything else, please don’t hesitate to phone. And we may need to come back for a statement. We’ll be in touch.”
    As they walked toward the door, Mandy looked over at them and said, “We’re not in any danger, are we? I mean, a murder so close to our home. There isn’t some sort of maniac on the loose, is there? Are you sure my baby’s not in any danger?”
    â€œNo,” said Annie. “I can’t think of any reason why you would be.”
    Outside at the car she turned to Gerry. “I never knew you were a First Aid Kit fan.”
    â€œHidden depths,” said Gerry, with an enigmatic smile. “Hidden depths.”
    THE BOTTOM of the door slid easily over the few scattered bills and junk mail the postman had delivered after Banks left for work that morning. He didn’t even bother bending to pick them up. They could wait.
    His front door led directly into a small study where he kept his computer, a comfortable armchair, table lamp and couple of bookcases. It used to be his main living room, but that had changed after the fire, when the insurance had allowed him not only to have the