A Dedicated Man by Peter Robinson Read Free Book Online

course.’ Ramsden got up and made a drink for himself.
    ‘You said it had happened before, that he hadn’t turned up?’
    ‘Yes. It wasn’t a formal arrangement. More casual, really.’
    ‘Why didn’t he come?’
    ‘Once when Emma wasn’t too well he couldn’t make it. And one time he had a stomach upset. Things like that. We were very close, Chief Inspector. There was always a bed made up
for him, and he had a key in case I had to go out.’
    ‘Didn’t it cross your mind to phone and ask what was wrong?’
    ‘Not at all. I’ve already told you our arrangement was casual. I don’t have a phone. I spend enough time on the blasted thing at work. The nearest public call box is on the
main road.’ He shook his head. ‘I just can’t believe this is happening. It’s like a bad dream. Harry, dead?’
    ‘Did you go out last night?’
    Ramsden looked at him blankly.
    ‘You said Mr Steadman had a key in case you were out,’ Banks pressed on. ‘Were you out last night?’
    ‘No, I wasn’t. Actually, when Harry hadn’t arrived by eleven o’clock, I was rather – I mean, don’t get me wrong – a little relieved. You see, I’m
working on a book of my own. A historical novel. And I was glad of the opportunity to get some writing done.’ He looked embarrassed about it.
    ‘Didn’t you like working with Mr Steadman?’
    ‘Oh, of course I did. But it was his baby, really. I was just the editor, the research assistant.’
    ‘Where were you planning to go today?’
    ‘We were going to visit an old lead mine in Swaledale. Quite a distance really, so we wanted to get an early start. Emma!’ he exclaimed suddenly. ‘Emma must be in a terrible
state.’
    ‘She’s upset, of course,’ Banks said. ‘Mrs Stanton, the neighbour, is looking after her.’
    ‘Should I go?’
    ‘That’s up to you, Mr Ramsden, but I’d say best leave her for today at least. She’s in good hands.’
    Ramsden nodded. ‘Of course, of course . . .’
    ‘What about you? Will you be all right?’
    ‘Yes, I’ll be fine. It’s just the shock. I’ve known Harry for more than ten years.’
    ‘Would it be possible to talk to you again about this? Just to get some background, that kind of thing?’
    ‘Yes, I suppose so. When?’
    ‘The sooner the better, really. Tuesday morning, perhaps? We might know a bit more by then.’
    ‘I’ll be at work. Fisher and Faulkner. We’re not terrifically busy at the moment. If you want to drop by . . .’
    ‘Yes, that’ll be fine.’
    Banks asked directions to the publishers, then left Ramsden and returned to Eastvale by the quickest route. At the station, an invitation to call at Superintendent Gristhorpe’s for tea
awaited him. He phoned Sandra, who wasn’t at all surprised at his absence, checked that no important news had come in while he had been at Ramsden’s, and set off for Helmthorpe for the
second time that day. It was only three o’clock, and, as he wasn’t expected at Gristhorpe’s until five, he would have plenty of time to see how the locals were coping.
    The Helmthorpe police station was a converted cottage on a narrow cobbled road that forked from the eastern end of the High Street towards the river. There, Weaver, who was running off more
copies of the request for information, told him that three constables were still making door-to-door enquiries along Hill Road and another had been dispatched to the campsite.
    That was the biggest headache, Banks realized. They would have to try and find out who had been staying at the campsite on Saturday night. Most of the campers would have moved on by now and it
would be damn near impossible to get comprehensive or reliable information.
    There was also the press to deal with. Besides Reg Summers of the local weekly, two other reporters were still hanging around outside the station, as Hatchley had warned, thrusting their
notebooks at everyone who entered or left. Banks certainly liked to maintain good relations with the