Watching the Dark (Inspector Banks Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

two pieces of furniture in the shadows. A hotel room, Banks guessed.
    ‘What do you think?’ he asked Winsome, who was perching on the arm of the chair, beside him peering at the photos.
    ‘Escort,’ she said, without missing a beat.
    ‘Perhaps it was more than just a sexual transaction?’ Banks suggested. ‘She’s not dressed like a hooker. Those are more like student clothes, not slutty or expensively stylish at all. Could she have been a lover, maybe? He seems a bit out of it in the room, doesn’t he? What do you think?’
    ‘She could be a high-priced escort,’ Winsome said. ‘I imagine you can order them dressed any way you wish. Maybe he had a thing about student chic. And you’re right, guv. There’s definitely something odd about that picture in the hotel room. His position. He’s sort of inert, when you wouldn’t expect him to be.’
    Banks raised his eyebrows. ‘Winsome, you surprise me. What should he be doing, do you think?’
    ‘He just seems too passive, that’s all,’ she said. ‘I’d say that if a man his age was lucky enough to be in bed with a girl her age, a girl as beautiful as her, then he should probably be enjoying himself.’
    Banks laughed. ‘Good point, Winsome. Thanks for sharing that.’ He stood up. ‘Lots of questions that need answers. Whichever way you look at it, it seems as if our DI Quinn has been a naughty boy. Bit of a dark horse. OK, let’s get these photos over to Photographic Services and have some copies made before they get to work on them. It would be interesting to find out when they were taken and who the girl is. Perhaps we can isolate her face so we can show it around without giving away what Quinn was up to. Will you seal off this room, Winsome, and make sure no one enters? I especially don’t want any of the media getting a scent of this. They’re bound to find out eventually – they always do – but let’s keep it under wraps for as long as we can.’
    ‘Yes, guv.’ Banks glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better be getting back to the station. I’m sure the boss will be chomping at the bit, wanting to know what’s going on, and I need a few favours from her.’

Chapter 2
    Since the reorganisation, which meant more meetings, recently promoted Area Commander Catherine Gervaise had added a low round table and four tubular chairs to her office. There was plenty of room for them, and they allowed for a more informal meeting space than the boardroom, where the full team briefings were carried out.
    Banks felt the tubes holding up his chair give gently as he sat and leaned back, carefully placing his coffee mug on a rose-patterned coaster on the glass table. The coffee was from Gervaise’s personal filter machine, and it was good and strong. There was no doubt that Gervaise had brought a feminine touch to what used to be Superintendent Gristhorpe’s very masculine office, though she would never thank anyone for telling her so.
    Photographs of her husband and children adorned her desk and the top of the filing cabinet; the walls were painted in muted pastel shades of blue, complemented by a couple of well-framed water lily prints. The whole place seemed somehow more airy and light, with everything neat and in its place.
    Most of the books were legal or forensic texts, rather than the rows of leather-bound literary classics Gristhorpe had kept on the shelves, though there was the tell-tale Stella Rimington autobiography that Gervaise had clearly forgotten to hide. The books were in neat groups, separated by the occasional cup or plaque for archery, dressage or fencing, which had been Gervaise’s passions when she had had more time to indulge in such pursuits.
    The window was open about three inches, and Banks could hear sounds from Eastvale’s cobbled market square – delivery vans, children’s squeals, shouted greetings – and the smell of fresh-baked bread from Bob’s Bakery made his mouth water. It was going on for nine o’clock. He had been