“A bit of both, really,” said Banks. “He can’t have had it done until after he was divorced, as his ex-wife had never seen it. Others must have, even though he always wore long sleeves, and he tried to keep it concealed. You saw it.” Banks didn’t tell her that it was when he asked to look at Caxton’s arm that he’d had his stroke. No point making her feel guilty. She’d done the right thing in noting it down, and he’d done the right thing in asking to see it. The rest was just bad timing. He didn’t really know what was going to happen to his career because of what happened in that interview room. Neither he nor Winsome had behaved in any way offensively or aggressively during the interview, but Danny Caxton had keeled over and would most likely die. Adrian Moss had a hell of a job on his hands with this one, and for once Banks appreciated that he might prove a useful ally. Not that ACC McLaughlin and AC Gervaise weren’t a hundred percent behind him. The chief constable and crime commissioner were waffling and waving this way and that in the prevailing winds, but that was only to be expected. The best Banks could do was tell the truth and try to protect Winsome from the shitstorm as best he could. Even if there were no professional consequences, there would be a big fuss in the media for a few days.

The music was so quiet now that Banks could hardly hear it above the birds and the wind in the leaves. Occasionally he would catch a slow, soft phrase, then silence came again. Linda swallowed and turned toward the river. He couldn’t see her expression or the look in her eyes. “It always makes me cry, the end,” she said. “You really have to hear it inside to get the full impact, but the quiet strings and silence alternate like a dying man’s breath for a while, and finally it just disappears into silence. More Shakespeare. ‘The rest is silence.’”

“Was it Mahler’s last work?” Banks asked.

“Not technically, no. He’d sketched out a tenth symphony before he died. But he was ill. He’d lost his favorite daughter and been diagnosed with heart problems. The ninth is often regarded as his farewell to the world, especially that adagio.” She paused a moment then said, “So Caxton won’t be going to trial?”

“The CPS will declare him unfit to stand,” said Banks. “Even if he lives that long.”

“So there’ll be no real closure?”

“I always thought closure was overrated,” said Banks. “What’s so special about an old man sitting in a prison cell for the rest of his natural life?”

“Well, if you put it that way . . .”