And that was as sensational as it got.

They went out with Sharon and Tina twice more, once to the pictures to see Help! and once to the amusement arcades, Graham as usual supplying most of the cash, and their evenings ended the same way. No matter how much Banks tried and hinted, Sharon wouldn’t relinquish her treasure. She always stopped him at the threshold. It was a tease balanced only later with the delicious ritual of self-administered relief.

When it was time to leave, they exchanged names and addresses and said they’d write, but Banks never heard from Sharon again. As far as he knew, Graham hadn’t heard from Tina either before he disappeared. Now, looking back, Banks hoped she really had let him go all the way with her.

Remembering their holiday had made him also remember other things, and some of them started to ring alarm bells in his policeman’s mind. Quiet at first, then getting louder and louder.

But soon, it wasn’t an inner alarm bell, it was the telephone that was ringing. Banks picked it up.

“DCI Banks?” A woman’s voice, familiar, strained.

“Yes.”

“It’s DI Hart. Michelle.”

“I haven’t forgotten your name yet,” Banks said. “What can I do for you? Any news?”

“Are you busy?”

“Just after you left me in Starbucks, a missing persons case turned into a murder, so yes, I am.”

“Look, I’m sorry about that. I mean…This is so difficult.”

“Just tell me.”

Michelle paused for so long that Banks was beginning to think she would just hang up. She seemed to be good at putting an abrupt end to conversations. But she didn’t. After an eternity, she said, “Today I discovered that Ben Shaw’s notebooks and the Graham Marshall actions allocations are missing.”

“Missing?”

“I looked all over the files. I couldn’t find them. I got the records clerk to help, too, but even she couldn’t find them. There’s a gap in the notebooks from the fifteenth of August to the sixth of October, 1965.”

Banks whistled between his teeth. “And the actions?”

“Just for that case. Gone. I don’t know…I mean, I’ve never…There’s something else, too. Something that happened over the weekend. But I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I suppose I’m asking you for advice. I don’t know what to do.”

“You should tell someone.”

“I’m telling you.”

“I mean someone in your station.”

“That’s the problem,” she said. “I just don’t know who I can trust down here. That’s why I thought of you. I know you have a personal interest in the case, and it would be helpful for me to have another professional around. One I know I can trust.”

Banks thought it over for a moment. Michelle was right; he did have an interest in the case. And the way it sounded, she was out on a limb by herself down there. “I’m not sure what I can do to help,” he said, “but I’ll see if I can get away.” As he spoke the words, an image of himself charging down to Peterborough on a white steed, wearing armor and carrying a lance, mocked him. “Any news on the funeral service?”