“Uh, sorry,” said the boy, making to sidle past them and go into the kitchen.

Banks stood up. “You must be Christopher Myers?”

Chris shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Uh, yeah, that’s right.”

Banks introduced himself and Annie. “Why don’t you join us for a minute?” he said. “There’s a free chair.”

“Er, I think I’d better . . . you know . . .”

“Please, sit down,” said Banks, a steelier edge to his voice. “This won’t take long.”

Chris eased himself onto the chair, which was far too small for him. He stretched his long legs out to one side.

“We were just talking about the park,” Banks went on. “You might have noticed some activity down there today?”

“Yeah. I wondered what was going on.”

“We’ve got new information,” said Banks. “We’ve got the CSIs and forensic officers going through the place with fine-tooth combs.”

“Oh, right.”

“Ever been down there, Christopher?”

“Chris. Everyone calls me Chris. The park? Well, sure. I mean, I grew up here. We used to go and play on the swings and stuff.”

“I mean more recently.”

“I’ve passed through it, you know, but it’s not somewhere I’d hang out.”

“Why’s that?”

Chris shrugged. “Dunno. Just isn’t, that’s all.”

“Do you pass through it on your way to number twenty-six Hollyfield Lane to buy your drugs?”

“My what?”

“Don’t listen to him, son,” said Myers.

“Are you sure you don’t sneak down to the park for the occasional spliff?”

“Mr. Banks!” It was Granville Myers again, half-standing. “That’s a bit much, isn’t it? First you accuse me, and now you accuse my son.”

“I wasn’t aware I was accusing him of anything except smoking an occasional joint,” said Banks. “That’s illegal, but we tend to overlook it most of the time.”

“You’re insinuating that Chris was in the park on Sunday. That he killed this Arab boy.”

Chris looked confused. “What’s going on, Dad?” he asked. “Who’s accusing who of what?”

“Were you?” Banks asked. “In the park when Samir was killed?”

“Of course not,” Chris said.

“No harm in asking,” said Banks. “Anyway, we’ve come up with a lot of interesting new trace evidence from the park, so we’ll know the truth soon enough.”

“Evidence of what?” Chris asked.

“I’m afraid I can’t say at the moment. Just that it puts a whole new complexion on things, and it may well send the investigation spinning off in a whole different direction.”

“Well, that’s great,” said Chris, but he didn’t sound as if he meant it. He was twitchy now, eager to leave his chair. “I’ve got an exam tomorrow morning. I’d better . . . you know . . .”

“Right. Sorry to have kept you,” said Banks.

Chris got up and walked toward the kitchen door. “Good luck,” Banks called after him.

Chris half-turned. “What with?”

“The exam.”