"The bastards smashed up the toilets, didn't they? Ladies and gents. I think it was the Lyndgarth mob, but I can't prove it. Toilet rolls shoved down the bowl, light bulbs broken, glass all over the floor, piss"

"I get the picture," said Templeton.

"Aye, well, I was here until nearly half past two in the morning cleaning it up."

"Half past two, you say?"

"That's right. Why?"

"We saw you leaving on the CCTV, that's all."

"You could have said."

Templeton grinned. "Look at it from my point of view. If you'd said you went home at half past twelve we'd have had a discrepancy, wouldn't we?"

"But I didn't. I left at half past two. Like you said, it's on candid camera."

"Anybody vouch for you?"

"I told you, I was here alone."

"So you could have nipped out into the Maze, raped and killed the girl, then got back to cleaning up the bog?"

"I suppose I could have, but I didn't. You already said you saw me leave on the CCTV."

"But you could have sneaked out earlier and come back."

"Look around you. There's only two ways out of this place on account of its location. There's not even a window opens on Taylor's Yard. We take all our brewery deliveries down the chute at the front. The only ways out of the place are the front, which leads to the market square, and the other side, the passageway between the toilets and the kitchen, which leads to Castle Road. I assume you've got CCTV there, too?"

"We have," said Templeton.

"There you go, then. You tell me how I'm supposed to get out, rape and murder a girl, and come back without being seen."

"Mind if I have a look around?"

"Not at all. I'll show you." Murdoch put the glass down, called to one of the regulars to keep his eye on the place and first took Templeton upstairs, where there was an office, a toilet, a storeroom full of cases of wine and spirits piled against the wall, and a sitting room with a TV set, fading wallpaper and a let-down sofa.

Next, Murdoch showed him the pool room and the toilets downstairs, which weren't in such bad shape, then the kitchen near the back, which was clean as it should be, and the side exit onto Castle Road. They went into the cellar next, a dank place with damp stone walls and barrels of beer in a row and crates of ale piled up. It stank of yeast and hops. The walls were solid everywhere, probably about three feet thick. Templeton couldn't see any possible way out, and he didn't particularly fancy staying down there a moment more than he needed, so he headed back up the worn stone steps.

"Seen enough?" asked Murdoch when they got back to the bar.

"For now," said Templeton. "This incident with the toilets. When did it happen?"

"Don't know for certain," said Murdoch. "The Lyndgarth yobs had been gone maybe about ten minutes or so when one of the students came and told me. Not that there was anything I could do about it right there and then, like, when I had drinks to serve. It was about that time the girl and her friends came in."

"Pretty near closing time, then?"

"Aye, not far off. I'd have shut up early except I had paying customers. I reckoned I'd see the punters off the premises at the usual time and get it cleaned up. Never imagined it would take so bloody long."

"This Lyndgarth lot, did they stick around the square?"

"I didn't see them again, but then I didn't get out till late."

"Any names?"

"Why? Are you going to prosecute them?"

"For what?"

"Vandalizing the pub."

"No, dickhead. They might be suspects in a murder investigation. Why, are you going to bring charges?"

"No way. I value my life."

"I'd still like to talk to them. Names?"

"You must be joking. Maybe one of them called his mate Steve, and there was another called Mick."

"Wonderful. Thanks a lot."

"I told you. Anyway, it shouldn't be too difficult for you to find them if you want. Just ask around. Lyndgarth's not a big place and the yobs are probably pretty well known there."

"And you'd recognize them again?"

"Aye, I'd recognize them."

"Had you seen the girl and her friends before?"

"They'd been in once or twice, yes."

"Regulars?"

"I wouldn't call them regulars, but I'd seen them occasionally in here on a Saturday night. Never caused any trouble."

"Did you hear anything from Taylor's Yard while you were cleaning up the toilets?"

"No."

"Did you see anyone go by the front?"

"No, but I wouldn't have, anyway. See, I was in the toilets, at the Castle Road side, as you've seen. Besides, I wasn't really paying attention. Cleaning up vandalized toilets sort of demands all your attention, if you know what I mean." Murdoch worked at a glass, then narrowed his eyes. "I can hardly believe it, you know."

"Believe what?"

He gestured over towards the toilets. "While I was busy cleaning up in there, what was happening in the Maze. That poor girl. I can hardly get my head around it."

"Don't even try," said Templeton, heading towards the door. "It'll only give you grief." And he left, rather pleased with himself for his piece of sage advice. He paused at the door and turned back. "And don't run away," he said, pointing his finger at Murdoch. "I might be back."

As befitting that of a senior partner, Julia Ford's office was both larger and better appointed than Constance Wells's. She had the same fine view of the square, but from higher up, and the room was fitted with a thick pile carpet and a solid teak desk. What looked to Annie like an original David Hockney Yorkshire landscape hung on one wall.

Julia Ford herself was elegance personified. Annie had no idea where her simple dark blue business suit and plain white blouse had come from, but it definitely wasn't Next or Primark. She bet there was a designer's name on it somewhere, and it probably came from Harvey Nicks. Her straight chestnut brown hair fell to her shoulders and was imbued with the kind of lustre Annie had seen only on television adverts. Julia Ford stood up, leaned across the table and shook hands with both Annie and Ginger, then bade them sit. Her chairs were padded and far more comfortable than Constance Wells's. She regarded them both with watchful brown eyes, then turned to Constance, who lingered in the doorway. "That's all right, Constance, thank you very much," she said. "You can go now." Constance shut the door behind her.

Julia Ford continued to regard Annie and Ginger with those serious hazel eyes and made a steeple of her hands on the table. No rings, Annie noticed. "I understand that Karen Drew has been murdered?" she said finally.

"That's right," said Annie. "We're trying"

Julia Ford waved her hand dismissively. "I should imagine you are," she said, a definite smile now playing around the edges of her thin lips. "And I should also imagine you're not getting very far."

"It's like squeezing the proverbial blood out of the proverbial stone," Annie said. "We were wondering if Ms. Wells might be able to help, but she seemed to think we should talk to you."

"I thought you should talk to me. Constance has very specific instructions regarding Karen."

"And can you help?"

"Oh, I think you'll find I'll be able to help you a great deal," said Julia Ford.

"But will you?"

"Will I?" She spread her hands. "Of course I will. I've never hindered a police investigation."

Annie swallowed. Julia Ford had a reputation as a tough solicitor who would do anything she possibly could to discredit the police and get her client off.

"Can you tell us about her background, then?" Annie asked.

"I could, but I don't think that's really the main issue right now. You'll find out soon enough, anyway."

"Ms. Ford," said Annie, "with all due respect, aren't we supposed to be the ones who decide what questions we should ask?"

"Yes, yes, of course. I'm sorry. I wasn't meaning to be rude, and I'm not trying to do your job for you. What I'm trying to tell you is that there is something more important you need to know first."

"And what's that?"

"Karen Drew wasn't her real name."

"I see...May I ask what her real name was?"

"You may."

"And...?"

Julia Ford paused and played with her Mont Blanc on the desk in front of her. Annie knew she was indulging in typical courtroom tactics for dramatic effect, but there was nothing she could do but wait out the theatrics. Finally, the solicitor tired of playing with her pen and leaned forward across the oak. "Her real name was Lucy Payne," she said.

"Jesus Christ," whispered Annie. "Lucy Payne. The Friend of the Devil. That changes everything."

"So what do you think of Jamie Murdoch?" Banks asked. He was sitting in his office comparing notes with Kevin Templeton and Winsome Jackman. Templeton, he noticed, kept sneaking a glance at Winsome's thighs under the tight black material of her trousers.

"He's got an attitude," Templeton said, "and he's a bit of a plonker. But that hardly qualifies him as a murderer. No more than being a Geordie does. I don't know. I'm sure we'll be able to verify his story about the vandalized bogs when we talk to Hayley's friends and the yobbos from Lyndgarth. We've got film of him leaving on his bike at half past two, and no sign of him before that. Like he says, there's no access to the Maze from the pub without using the front or side exits, and they were both covered by CCTV."

"Okay," said Banks. "Now, what do we make of this new angle Winsome's come up with?"

Winsome had been watching the rest of the CCTV footage and noticed someone coming out of the Maze from the narrow shopping arcade that led off Castle Road at 12:40, which was twenty minutes after Hayley had gone in. There was no CCTV record of the person's having entered. The images were indistinct, but Winsome thought he resembled one of the people Hayley Daniels had been talking to earlier in the square, just before she went off down Taylor's Yard by herself.

"Well," said Templeton, "he certainly hadn't been shopping at that time of night. Someone searching for her? A friend?"

"Could be," said Winsome. "Maybe he got worried when she didn't turn up at the Bar None. But why not use the Taylor's Yard entrance? It's nearer the club."

"Is there a back way from the Bar None to the Maze?" Banks asked.

"Yes, sir," said Templeton. "A fire exit."

"So he could have left that way," said Banks. "And I suppose it's possible that he knew about the market square CCTV, which is the set-up that gets all the publicity, but not about that on Castle Road. He didn't know he'd be seen coming out. Twenty minutes isn't very long, but it's probably long enough for what the killer did, and he seems in a bit of a hurry. This looks very promising. DC Wilson's at the college working on that list of names. It could take some time to get through them all. Do you think you can get technical support to come up with a still image from the video? Enhanced?"

"I can always try," said Winsome. "They're already working on that car number plate, but no luck so far."

"Ask them to do their best," said Banks. "It's another long shot, but it might save us time." Banks leaned back in his chair and ran his hand across his closely cropped hair. "Okay," he said, "let's review what we've got so far." He counted off on his fingers as he spoke. "Joseph Randall, who swears he was at home alone when Hayley was killed, but has no real alibi and also can't account for the eleven minutes between finding the body and reporting it. Oh, and he also eyed up the victim in the Duck and Drake earlier on the evening she was killed. After making a fuss, he volunteered a DNA sample and signed the waiver. The lab's working on it.

"Next we've got Jamie Murdoch, pub manager of the Fountain, who says he was fixing broken toilets during the time Hayley was raped and killed. He appears to have had no access to the murder scene, at least not without being spotted, and he doesn't show up on CCTV until he leaves on his bike at half past two. Finally, one of Hayley's friends is seen exiting the Maze by the Castle Road arcade at 12:40, but not seen going in. What had he been doing in there? How long had he been there? What was he hoping for? A quick grope in the ginnel?"

"Hayley's stepmother said she didn't have a steady boyfriend," Winsome said, "but she did think Hayley was sexually experienced."

Banks noticed Templeton give a little smile at Winsome's discomfort in talking about sex in front of them.

"We probably won't find out any more about that until we talk to the people she was with," said Banks.

"There's still the possibility that someone was lying in wait," Templeton said. He glanced at Banks. "A serial killer just starting out. Someone who knew how to come and go in the Maze without being seen, which probably means he's a local and knows the area."

"We won't forget that possibility, Kev," said Banks. "But so far we've had no luck with the local sex offenders." He turned back to Winsome. "What about the family? You talked to them."

"Yes, sir. I can't say I was very impressed by the father, but maybe it's hard to be impressed by a bloke you find tied naked to a bed in a hotel room."

"Oh, Winsome," said Templeton. "You disappoint me. Don't tell me it didn't turn you on."

"Shut up, Kev," said Banks.

Winsome glared at Templeton. "There's no way either of the parents could have done it," she went on. "Donna McCarthy was watching a DVD with Caroline Dexter, and Geoff Daniels and Martina Redfern have a watertight alibi. I found the taxi driver who drove them back from the nightclub to the hotel around half past two, and even he remembers them." She gave a nervous glance at Templeton, then looked back at Banks. "They were...you know...in the back of his taxi."

Even Banks had to smile at that. Templeton laughed out loud.

"Okay," said Banks. "So far our only suspects who don't seem to have an alibi are Randall and Hayley's friend on the Castle Road CCTV, and he should be easy enough to track down." Banks stood up. "Then there's the Lyndgarth yobs to sort out. They were angry at Jamie Murdoch. They could have hung around the Maze hoping to get a crack at him and found Hayley instead."

"The CCTV just shows them walking away," said Templeton.

"They still need looking into. Which is what we ought to be doing now instead of sitting around here. Thanks for bringing me up to date. Now let's get to work and see if we can close this one before the week's out."

A stunned silence followed Annie's response to the revelation of Karen Drew's real identity. Annie could hear other noises from the buildingphone conversations, the clacking of a computer keyboardmixed with the sounds of cars and birds from outside. She tried to digest what she'd just heard.

"You weren't involved in that case, were you?" Julia Ford asked.