“When was this?”

“Late June. It was a nice day, sort of like today.”

“So what happened?”

“He tried to drag me away, toward the bushes, but I managed to squirm out of his grasp, one arm at any rate, and he swung me around, swore at me and punched me in the face. The momentum broke me loose, so I ran.”

“Where were your friends?”

“Back up by the road by then. A good hundred yards away. Watching.”

“Didn’t they help you?”

“They were scared.”

“They didn’t call the police?”

“It all happened so fast. When I got free, I ran off and joined them and we never looked back. We decided not to say anything to our parents because we weren’t supposed to be playing down by the river in the first place, and we were supposed to be at school. We thought we’d get into trouble.”

“I can imagine you did. What did your parents say about your face?”

“They weren’t too pleased. I told them I’d got into a bit of a scrap at school. All in all, I suppose it was a lucky escape. I tried to put it out of my mind, but…”

“You couldn’t?”

“Off and on. There’s been lengthy periods of my life when I haven’t thought of it at all.”

“Why do you see a connection with what happened to Graham?”

“It seemed too much of a coincidence, that’s all,” said Banks. “First this pervert trying to push me in the river, dragging me into the bushes, then Graham disappearing like that.”

“Well,” said Michelle, finishing her drink and closing her notebook, “I’d better go and see if I can find any trace of your mystery man, hadn’t I?”

Chapter 6

Showered and dressed in crisp, clean clothes, Annie presented herself at Detective Superintendent Gristhorpe’s office that afternoon, as requested. There was something austere and headmasterly about the room that always intimidated her. Partly, it had to do with the tall bookcases, mostly filled with legal and forensics texts, but dotted here and there with classics such as Bleak House and Anna Karenina, books Annie had never read, books that mocked her with their oft-mentioned titles and their thickness. And partly it was Gristhorpe’s appearance: big, bulky, red-faced, unruly-haired, hook-nosed, pockmarked. Today he wore gray flannel trousers and a tweed jacket with elbow patches. He looked as if he ought to be smoking a pipe, but Annie knew he didn’t smoke.

“Right,” said Gristhorpe after he had asked her to sit down. “Now, tell me what the hell’s going on out Mortsett way.”

Annie felt herself flush. “It was a judgment call, sir.”

Gristhorpe waved his large hairy hand. “I’m not questioning your judgment. I want to know what you think is happening.”

Annie relaxed a little and crossed her legs. “I think Luke Armitage has been kidnapped, sir. Someone communicated a ransom demand to the family last night, and Martin Armitage rang me to cancel the search for Luke.”

“But you didn’t?”