Piranesi(58)

Askill’s theory has the advantage of accounting for the reappearance of Matthew Rose Sorensen at the same time – give or take a day or two – that Ketterley disappeared, which is otherwise an odd coincidence. Where the theory falls down is that neither Arne-Sayles nor Ketterley ever used the disappearances as evidence of anything. In fact, for many years Ketterley had been loud in his denunciation of Arne-Sayles.

Undeterred, Askill has questioned me twice. He is a young man with a pleasant, good-natured face, little brown curls all over his head and an intelligent expression. He wears a dark blue suit and a grey shirt and speaks with a Yorkshire accent.

‘Did you know Valentine Ketterley?’ he asks.

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I visited him in mid-November 2012.’

He looks pleased with this answer. ‘That’s just before you disappeared,’ he points out.

‘Yes,’ I say.

‘And where were you?’ he asks. ‘While you were gone?’

‘I was in a house with many rooms. The sea sweeps through the house. Sometimes it swept over me, but always I was saved.’

Askill pauses and frowns. ‘That’s not … You’re not …’ he begins. He thinks for a moment. ‘What I mean is that you’ve had problems. A breakdown of sorts. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. Are you getting treatment for that?’

‘My family have arranged for me to see a psychotherapist. To which I have no objection. But I have refused medication and so far, no one has insisted.’

‘Well, I hope it helps,’ he says, kindly.

‘Thank you.’

‘What I’m trying to get at,’ he says, ‘is whether Dr Ketterley persuaded you to go anywhere. Whether he kept you anywhere against your will. Whether you were free to come and go.’

‘Yes. I was free. I came and went. I did not remain in one place. I walked for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of kilometres.’

‘Oh … Oh, OK. And Dr Ketterley wasn’t with you when you walked?’

‘No.’

‘Was anyone with you?’

‘No, I was quite alone.’

‘Oh. Oh, well.’ Jamie Askill is slightly disappointed. I am disappointed too, in a way: disappointed that I have disappointed him. ‘Well,’ he says. ‘I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I know you’ve already talked to DS Raphael.’

‘Yes.’

‘She’s amazing, isn’t she? Raphael?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m not surprised that she found you. I mean if anyone was going to find you, it was probably always going to be her.’ He pauses. ‘Of course, she can be a little … I mean she doesn’t really …’ He fishes in the air with his fingers to catch at the elusive words. ‘I mean she’s not necessarily the easiest person in the world to work with. And time management? Definitely not her thing. But honestly, we all think the world of her.’

‘It is right to think the world of Raphael,’ I tell him. ‘She is an extraordinary person.’

‘Exactly. Did anyone ever tell you about Pinny Wheeller?’

‘No,’ I say. ‘Who or what is Pinny Wheeller?’

‘A guy in some city in the Midlands – where Raphael started out. He was an upset sort of person, a troubled person, the sort of person that ends up having a lot to do with us.’

‘That’s not good.’

‘No, it’s not. There was this one time something happened to set him off and he climbed up inside the cathedral tower. He got onto a sort of gallery and was shouting abuse at the people inside the cathedral. He had some bales of old, dirty newspaper that he used to take everywhere, and he started setting it on fire and throwing it down onto people.’

‘How terrible.’

‘I know. Frightening, isn’t it? When we – I mean the police – got there, it was evening – all dim and dark with flaming sheets of newspaper floating about and people dashing everywhere with fire extinguishers and buckets of sand. Raphael and another guy tried to get to Pinny Wheeller, but when they were in the stairwell – which was a really tight, confined space – Pinny threw a load more burning newspaper down and some of it wrapped itself around the other guy’s face. So he had to go back.’

‘But Raphael did not go back,’ I say, with great certainty.

‘No, she didn’t. Technically speaking she probably should have, but she didn’t. When she came out onto the gallery her hair was on fire. But, you know, she’s Raphael. I doubt she even noticed. The people down below had to shout at her to put the fire out. She sat down with Pinny Wheeller and she got him to stop throwing flaming newspaper everywhere and she got him to come down. Pretty brave, don’t you think?’

‘Braver than you think. She doesn’t like heights.’

‘She doesn’t?’

‘They make her uncomfortable.’

‘That wouldn’t stop her,’ he says.

‘No.’

‘Thank God, she didn’t have to do any of that with you. I mean she didn’t have to walk through fire or whatever. She just went to the seaside. That’s what I heard anyway – that she found you at the seaside.’

‘Yes. I was at the side of the sea.’