Killing with Confetti

33

‘Peter, have you eaten?’ George Brace asked Diamond when he returned to Concorde House. For the second time in recent weeks they’d met in the staff car park. Diamond was beginning to wonder if the DCC lurked there because he was uncomfortable inside the building. There wasn’t much sympathy among the staff for his new family situation.

‘Been quite busy.’

‘The Folly does excellent lunches, I’m told. You must let me treat you. The least I can do after all your efforts.’

‘I’ve got a murder case now, George.’

‘No promises, but I may be able to help with that.’

‘Really?’

‘A quiet chat away from the coalface. Two heads better than one. What do you say?’

They did the short drive in George’s Volvo, ordered their food and took their drinks to a table outside. After going through his pipe-lighting ritual, George said, ‘Down to business. I know you’re keen to get back and hear the latest from your team. What’s your thinking on Joe Irving? Did he shoot his stalker?’

‘That’s our belief,’ Diamond said. ‘In the last hour we’ve identified the victim as Jack Peace, an ex-convict who served time with Irving in the same prison, same wing.’ He reported on his meeting with Magda Lyle. ‘So we have a motive for the gunman, a long-standing grudge, and more importantly we have an even stronger motive for Irving.’

‘Needing to stop this fellow who was sure to stalk him until he made the kill?’

‘Right. If it wasn’t achieved at the wedding, Peace was never going to give up.’

‘Joe shot him and faked the suicide?’

Diamond swayed to his left to avoid a gust of pipe smoke. ‘The thousand-dollar question is how he managed it.’

‘Thousand-dollar question or three-pipe problem?’ George said with a smile, tapping the stem of his briar. ‘Let me see if I can assist. What are your best guesses so far?’

Diamond didn’t care for that word ‘guesses.’ First, he listed the yardsticks: the location, the timing and the need for the killer to get close enough to fake a suicide. Then he went through the various theories, starting with the con trick with the payment and ending with the taser, and explained the difficulty with each. He omitted Magda Lyle’s suggestion of hypnosis as too far-fetched.

‘What time did you say the fatal shot was fired?’

‘We don’t know for sure, except it was before ten-twenty. The best estimate is between six and seven-thirty, after the baths closed and before the reception.’

‘Didn’t anyone hear the gun go off?’

‘Apparently not. Most people were some distance away. The hypocaust is more than six metres below ground level. The closest to it were the photographer and his assistant beside the Great Bath, but they were separated by several solid stone walls.’

‘Could the shooting have happened after seven-thirty, when the party was in full swing?’

‘In theory, yes, but I personally watched Joe all evening.’

‘Have you considered whether he had an accomplice?’

‘Somebody else who fired the shot?’

George nodded. ‘Joe doesn’t put himself in danger much, from all I’ve heard. He’s more of a delegator.’

Good one, George. It was a fresh angle, and a persuasive one that fitted most of the facts. No question Irving had the clout to call on some assistance. He could have sat through the long hours at the reception knowing someone else was doing his dirty work. ‘He’d have needed to issue the order at short notice.’

‘Unless he always had his own back-up waiting in the wings,’ George said. ‘I remember you half expected it. You couldn’t understand him relying on you alone.’

‘Couldn’t understand him relying on me at all if I’m honest,’ Diamond said. ‘He was always more likely to trust one of his own. I was there to make sure the wedding went off peacefully, not to kill his enemy.’

‘Does the proxy killer answer your problem, Peter?’

‘It might well — if there was any evidence of this extra gunman — a sighting, or some traces.’

‘Forensics may help there.’

‘We can hope so. And we still haven’t explained how it was done.’

‘The shot through the head at close quarters? Let me think about that.’

Their rib-eye steaks and chips arrived and were consumed before George Brace had anything useful to add. Then he said, ‘Perhaps we should be thinking outside the box.’

‘How exactly?’

‘Well...’ George had lit up again. He exhaled a plume of smoke that made sure the thinking outside the box wasn’t blue-sky thinking. ‘Let’s go back to the one thing we’ve been avoiding: the possibility that Jack Peace really did kill himself.’

‘We haven’t avoided it. We have a duty to examine the alternative,’ Diamond said.

‘And quite rightly,’ George said, picking up on the note of irritation. ‘But we ought to apply the same rigorous standards to the chance of it being suicide, don’t you think?’

Diamond wanted to yell in the DCC’s face that suicide was out of the question because the dead man had been right-handed, but he restrained himself and said a tame, ‘All right.’

‘The method, means and opportunity are obvious. The timing fits the same parameters, between six and nine-twenty P.M.’

‘Agreed.’

‘The hard part is the motive. Why would he have shot himself when he was there to shoot Joe?’

‘Because he knew he’d failed,’ Diamond said. ‘That’s the only explanation I can think of.’

‘Come now, Peter.’

‘If you can suggest something else...’

‘Try this for size,’ George said as archly as if he was about to reveal that there is life on Mars. ‘He’d always intended to shoot himself after taking out Joe. That’s not so far-fetched. A good proportion of people who murder others by shooting will turn the gun on themselves. Am I right?’

Diamond nodded. ‘But he hadn’t taken out Joe.’

‘He changed his mind. The bottled-up anger dissipated when he saw the wedding going on, the joy of the bride and groom on their special day.’

‘You’re saying he had a road to Damascus moment?’

‘You’ve got it. He saw how destructive killing Joe would be to everyone concerned and it made him look into his own embittered heart. In self-disgust, he put the gun to his own head.’

Diamond was thinking you wouldn’t put this into a 1950s B movie, but he had enough tact to say, ‘Thanks, George. I’m keeping all options open in the expectation that forensics will report back soon.’

‘Very wise. We need more evidence. In the end, it may be the coroner who settles the matter.’

Back in the CID office, Halliwell said, ‘Have you been hiding, guv? We were expecting you two hours ago.’

‘I was waylaid by the DCC.’

‘Anything we should know about?’

‘Relax, our jobs are safe for this week, anyway. Why did you need me? Something in from forensics?’

‘Still waiting.’

‘Idle bastards.’

‘But there is something. I don’t know if it will amuse you. It made me smile. I got it from Bristol CID. You know Sid Felix hasn’t been seen for a while? Well, his mob have been keeping this under wraps. Felix has been suffering from stress.’

‘Sid Felix? Stress?’

‘Early in August, he went into a retreat somewhere in Dorset and he’s been there ever since trying to get his mojo back.’

‘Since before Irving was released?’

‘Right. He’s not in contact with any of his gang. He can’t have ordered anyone to kill Joe Irving.’

‘And we’ve been in a mucksweat about him for nothing. Felix is out of the equation. I bet bloody Irving knew about this. His jungle telegraph is better than ours. It explains a lot. Do I want to laugh or jump off a bridge? I wish to God we’d known from the beginning.’

But at least it clarified his thinking.

He told Halliwell about his meeting with Magda Lyle, the governor. ‘I’m in no doubt now that this all goes back to the riot at Bream and Peace being named as the ringleader. He served three more years as a result.’

‘Stitched up?’

‘Well and truly. Apparently four of the inmates named him. The governor was still in hospital when the investigation took place and didn’t know he was being held responsible until after the report was published. She would have spoken up for him. She’s convinced Joe Irving was behind the whole thing. He ruled the wing and was expecting to be sprung by his friends, but it went wrong. When the investigation followed, Joe and his cronies made Jack the scapegoat.’

‘No wonder he was bitter, poor sod.’

‘When I visited Irving yesterday, I showed him the picture of Peace and he denied even knowing the guy. He’s lying, Keith. They were on the same wing. I want him nicked and brought in for questioning. A dawn raid.’

‘Tomorrow? Why not right away?’

‘Do you want another long night on duty?’

Halliwell grinned. ‘Not really.’

‘So we start the fun and games with the six o’clock knock. Tonight I must do my homework.’