When the Music's Over by Peter Robinson Read Free Book Online Page B

nice enough, but I’m not sure he believed me.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œJust his tone. It was difficult, him being a man, like it would have been for my father. Hard to talk about what happened. He seemed more embarrassed than anything else. And that office. It was like the headmaster’s study where you went for the cane.”
    Banks smiled. He could imagine it had been difficult. These days, if something like that had just happened to her, she would have been talking to a sympathetic woman in a special room with Muzak and subdued lighting. Candles, probably. Maybe even the Pastoral Symphony. “I doubt you were down for the cane all that often.”
    She arched an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised.”
    â€œIf you’d be more comfortable talking to a female investigator,” said Banks, “that can be easily arranged. I know you told DI MacDonald you weren’t bothered, but DS Jackman here can take over.”
    Linda Palmer smiled at Winsome. “It’s all right. No offense, but I’m OK. Really.” Then she turned to Banks again. “You’re the one they sent. It’s your case, isn’t it?”
    â€œSomething like that. But, as I say, that can be changed. We can accommodate whatever you want. Both DS Jackman here and DI MacDonald are excellent officers.”
    â€œI assume you were chosen because you’re good at your job. Are you good?”
    Winsome glanced at Banks as he shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. He could see the faint outline of a grin on her face. Enjoying his discomfort. “I’m not one to blow my own trumpet,” he said. “But I’ve had my fair share of success.”
    â€œYou’ll do, then.”
    â€œThanks very much.”
    Linda glanced at Winsome again, and they both laughed. “I’m sorry,” said Linda. “It wasn’t meant to sound like that. The thing is, I really don’t care who I speak to. It was a long time ago, and I’m a big girl now. It was different then, when I was only fourteen, but a lot of water’s gone down the river since. Even my gynecologist is a man these days.”
    â€œOK,” Banks said. Burgess was right; this was no damaged witness. Linda Palmer could function better than most. Might that make her story seem less credible to a judge and jury? Banks wondered. Would people demand more wailing and gnashing of teeth, a history of drug and alcohol abuse? “I just wanted to make sure. I understand you heard nothing more of this original complaint?”
    â€œThat’s right. Nothing except excuses, at any rate.”
    â€œDid you make inquiries?”
    â€œMy mother did.”
    â€œAnd what happened?”
    â€œAt first she was told that the investigation was ongoing and that it might take a long time. In the end they told her that the matter had been dropped due to lack of evidence.”
    â€œSo it was your word against his, and they believed him?”
    â€œI doubt that they even talked to him. He was too high and mighty. But, yes, basically. That’s what I took it to mean. A fourteen-year-old girl. Everyone knows the kinds of hysterical fantasies we have with the onset of puberty.”
    â€œHow did you feel about it?”
    â€œHow do you think I felt?”
    â€œI can’t imagine. Disappointed?”
    â€œNot disappointed. You’d have to have expected something to feel that, and I suppose, deep down, I didn’t. Expect anything, I mean. And the whole thing was frightening for a young girl, talking to the police and all that. I couldn’t imagine being in a courtroom in front of all those serious old people in their wigs and gowns answering questions about what happened to me. I was shy. I had an overactive imagination, even then. But the main feeling was as if I didn’t count. As if what had happened to me didn’t matter. I was a nobody. You have to remember, I was just a kid from a working-class