Free Innocent Graves by Peter Robinson Page B

Harrison would probably have fewer practical causes for concern than his own daughter, Tracy, who, at one time anyway, had been constantly moaning about some new style of jacket or jeans she just had to have because everyone else was wearing it, and the Doc Martens that were just essential these days.
    Banks had been like that himself, and he gave Tracy the same answer his mother and father gave him when they bought him a pair of heavy workboots for school instead of the thin-soled winkle-pickers he had asked for. “We can’t afford it. You’ll just have to make do. These will last a lot longer.”
    But Deborah Harrison had wanted for nothing, at least nothing that had a monetary value.
    “What about boyfriends?” Banks asked.
    Megan blushed. “We don’t have time, not in the lower sixth. And Debs was always involved in some school event: equestrian, sports or quizzes or whatever.”
    “So she didn’t have a boyfriend?”
    “I’m not saying she never had one.”
    “When was the last one?”
    “In the summer.”
    “What was his name?”
    “She told me his name was John, that’s all. They didn’t go out together for long. She said he was really cool but too thick, so she chucked him.”
    “Did she tell you anything else about him?”
    Megan blushed. “No.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. That’s all I know. His name was John and he was a thickie.”
    “Where did she meet him?”
    “I don’t know. She didn’t say. I was away in America all summer with my parents, so I didn’t see her until school started. By then she’d already chucked him.”
    “Was he her first boyfriend?”
    “I don’t think so, but there was never anyone serious.”
    “How do you know?”
    “She would have told me.”
    “Does she tell you everything?”
    Megan considered the question seriously for a moment or so, then said, “No, I don’t think so. She can be secretive, can Debs. But she’d tell me if she had a boyfriend. Or I’d just know .”
    “Was she being secretive about anything recently?”
    Megan frowned. “Yes, she was. I was getting fed up of it.”
    “Did she tell you anything about it?”
    “No. It wouldn’t be a secret then, would it?”
    “Did she tell you who or what it concerned?”
    Megan shook her head. “No.”
    “Did she say anything about it?”
    “Just that she thought it was time to tell someone, and then to watch what happened when the sh—. Just to see what happened.”
    “When did she tell you this?”
    “Just as she was leaving, on the bridge.”
    “While she was running backwards?”
    “Yes. It’s … it was the last thing she said.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m tired.”
    “All right,” said Banks. “I’m sorry, Megan. You’re doing really well. I’ll try not to be much longer. But you must realize how important it is. If it was a secret about somebody who didn’t want it known … And if that somebody knew that Deborah knew … Do you see what I mean?”
    Megan nodded.
    “How long had she been talking about this secret?”
    “Since the beginning of term.”
    “That’s quite a long time.”
    “Yes. She’d let it drop for a week or two, then bring it up again.”
    “Would she have told anyone else?”
    “No. I’m her best friend.”
    “Is there anything else you can tell us, Megan? Anything at all.”
    Megan shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
    Banks and Susan stood up. “Get some rest now,” Banks said. “And believe me, we’ll be doing our best to find out who did this.”
    They said goodbye to the nurse, picked up their raincoats and headed out into the drizzle.
    “What did you think?” Banks asked Susan as they walked back to the car.
    “About Megan? I think she told us pretty much all she knew.”
    “Notice the way she blushed and turned her eyes away when I pushed her about the boyfriend? I’d say there’s more to that relationship than she’s told us.”
    “Well, sir,” said Susan, “from my experience I’d say Deborah