Free The Hanging Valley by Peter Robinson

quite a few Canadians staying locally,” Hatchley said. “It’s easy enough to call the B and Bs and make a list from their records, but it’s damned hard to trace people’s movements after they’ve left. They don’t usually leave forwarding addresses, and it’s only once in a while a landlady has been able to tell us where they said they were going next.”
    “There can’t be that many men from Toronto travelling alone,” Banks said. “I’m sure if he was a member of a group or a family somebody would have reported him missing by now. Better stick at it. At least you’ve narrowed the field considerably. Heard anything from Dr Glendenning?”
    “The super called him a while ago. Still killing off those bloody maggots in disinfectant. Says he won’t be able to make a start till tomorrow morning at the earliest.”
    Banks sighed. “All right. You’d better go help Richmond now. And thanks, Sergeant, you did a good job.”
    Hatchley nodded and left the office. They’d been working together for almost two years now, Banks realized, and he still couldn’t bring himself to call the sergeant Jim. Maybe one day he would, when it came naturally to his lips. He lit another cigarette and went back to the window, where he watched the people wander about in the square, and drummed a tattoo on the sill.
    V
    “Sam’s not in,” Katie said that evening when she opened the back door to find Stephen Collier standing there. “He’s having a night out with his old mates in Leeds.”
    “Can’t I come in, anyway?” Stephen asked. “Just for a cup of tea?”
    “All right,” Katie said, and led him through to the spotless kitchen. “Just five minutes, mind you. I’ve work to be doing.” She turned away from him and busied herself with the kettle and teapot. She felt her face burning. It wasn’t right being alone in the house with a man other than her husband, even if it was someone as pleasant as Stephen. He had a reputation as a womanizer. Everybody knew that. Someone might even have seen him coming in.
    “Nick tells me the police were around today,” Stephen said. Katie glanced at him over her shoulder. “It’s to be expected, isn’t it? One of our guests did find a dead body.”
    “He still here?”
    “No. He left this afternoon.”
    “Well,” Stephen said, “I just thought I’d drop by to see if you were all right. I mean, it can be a bit of a shock to the system, something like that happening right on your doorstep, so to speak. Did the police ask a lot of questions?”
    “Not to me, no. Why should they?”
    “Just wondering,” Stephen said. “How are things, anyway?”
    “All right, I suppose,” Katie answered. Though she had known him for over five years, and she certainly preferred him to his brother, Katie hadn’t really spent much time alone with Stephen Collier before. Mostly, they had met socially at summer garden parties the Colliers liked to throw, in the pub and at occasional dinners. She liked Stephen. He seemed kind and thoughtful. Often at social functions she had caught him looking at her in an odd way. Not that way, not like Nicholas. It was a look she didn’t quite understand, and she had never been able to return his gaze for long without lowering her eyes. Now she was alone with him she felt shy and awkward; she didn’t really know how to behave. She brought the tea to the table and opened a box of Fox’s Custard Creams.
    “Come on, Katie,” Stephen said. “You’re not very convincing. You don’t sound all right to me.”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Yes, you do. I can tell. I’ve felt some sort of bond with you right from the start. I’ve been worried about you these past few months.”
    “Worried? Why?”
    “Because you’re not happy.”
    “Of course I’m happy. That’s silly.”
    Stephen sighed. “I can’t make you open up, can I? But you can talk to me if you want, if you need to. Everybody needs somebody to talk to now and then.”
    Katie bit