“If 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?”

“Something 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.”

“I 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.”

“You’ll do, then.”

“Thanks 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.”

“OK,” 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?”

“That’s right. Nothing except excuses, at any rate.”

“Did you make inquiries?”

“My mother did.”

“And what happened?”

“At 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.”

“So it was your word against his, and they believed him?”

“I 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.”

“How did you feel about it?”

“How do you think I felt?”

“I can’t imagine. Disappointed?”