Showstopper

22

“Put up your window,” Diamond warned Ingeborg.

The dog was bounding towards the car.

Cool under threat, Ingeborg had reversed a short distance and pulled into a passing place. “We can’t ignore them, guv.”

“I don’t intend to. I want that dog under control first.”

Caesar reached them, made a leap, landed on the bonnet, was unable to get a grip on the shiny surface, slid off, hit the ground, became more enraged and attacked the side. It became a rerun of the experience in Keith Halliwell’s car, the barking and the pawing of the windows, steaming them up and spattering foam and saliva over them.

Inside the car, Diamond said, “This is an arrestable offence.”

“Tell that to the dog,” Ingeborg said.

As if he’d overheard, Will Legat put two fingers to his mouth and produced a whistle so piercing that they heard it inside with all the windows up. Caesar stopped trying to eat the Ka and its occupants, meekly disengaged, trotted back along the lane and allowed himself to have a rope looped through his collar.

“Useful trick,” Ingeborg said.

“Are you okay?” Diamond asked.

“I’m fine.”

“If your bodywork is damaged, we’ll send him the repair bill.”

“Haha. You crease me up, guv.”

“Safe to get out now, I think.”

After a moment more, they emerged and waited for the others to approach, Natalie ahead on her scooter, Legat and the dog at a safe distance behind. The tramp was still in the same shabby clothes he’d worn at the airfield, but he had the air of a man about town.

More barking started and some straining on the leash before Caesar seemed to sense that they were not a serious threat and calmed down.

Diamond’s brain was working like a search engine to make the connection between Natalie and Legat. No result came up.

Natalie halted the scooter. She looked pale, but composed, wearing a thick black shawl over a grey trouser suit. “Do you have some news?” she asked Diamond, eyes wide in expectation.

He wasn’t going to answer that. This wasn’t the time, nor the place, to discuss the violent attack the dashboard camera had picked up. “We were on our way to visit you, ma’am. You remember Ingeborg?”

Natalie didn’t even give Ingeborg a glance. “What is it? You can tell me.”

“You must have heard something already, I think, or you wouldn’t be out.”

“That’s why we’re going to the field. It’s no distance. As soon as I was awake, I phoned the police in Bath and they told me about the car being found. What could have possessed him, driving off the road when he was so close to home? Why hasn’t he called me?”

It was obvious that whoever had spoken to her from Bath Police hadn’t revealed the full facts.

“There isn’t much to see in the field except policemen making a search, ma’am. The car has been taken away for forensic examination. We’re hoping they can give some indications of what happened.”

“I want to see where it was found.”

He understood why. He remembered in vivid detail going to Victoria Park on the worst day of his life all those years ago. Visiting the scene of his own wife’s murder had been heartrending, but in a strange way had helped him process his unimaginable loss.

“Where’s Greg?” she said. “That’s all I want to know.”

“We’re doing all we can to find him.”

“He was definitely on his way here. He phoned me from Trowbridge when he was about to leave.”

“You told me this already. If you remember, I called at the pottery yesterday after we first heard he was missing.”

“So you did,” she said. “The last two days are a blur. I’ve lost track of what I said to people.” She fixed her eyes on him. “There’s something you haven’t told me.”

“Let’s walk to the field together,” he said, realising as he spoke that it was a crass remark to make to someone confined to a wheelchair. Without pause, he went on to say, “Ingeborg will have to move her car. She can meet us there.”

Legat, unusually for him, had stood at a distance and remained silent apart from a few muttered words controlling the dog. He spoke to Ingeborg. “You’ll need to drive up to the pottery to find a turning point.”

She thanked him and returned to the Ka.

Natalie’s scooter was already in motion again. She was on a mission. The two men had to step out sharply to keep her in sight, with Diamond almost at a run to keep up with the big man’s strides.

Diamond said to Legat, “I’m struggling to understand what you’re doing here.”

This gentleman of the road had bluffed his way through more situations than the miles he’d tramped through Britain. “What else would you expect? I couldn’t allow poor Natalie to make this sorry pilgrimage on her own. She needs support at this time. And apart from that, it’s bloody dangerous driving a scooter up a narrow lane. You never know what nuisances are coming the other way, as we discovered.”

Diamond ignored the slur. “How is it that you know her?”

“She’s one of my guardian angels. Has been for years.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m always assured of bed and a good breakfast at the pottery. I have a barn to myself — Caesar and myself, I should say. A ground sheet, an inflatable bed and we’re in clover. But you know about this. I remember telling you I stay with a kind lady at Combe Hay.”

A faint memory stirred from his first interview. “I thought you were down in Bath.”

“On the streets? I don’t make a practice of sleeping rough. After you inhospitably instructed the Keynsham custody sergeant to give me my marching orders next time I needed a night in the cells, I had to look to other resources.”

“You’ve been here some days, then? You were here the other night when Greg Deans failed to come home.”

“Do you mind? You make it sound positively culpable. I was in the barn all evening. I first heard he was late when I called at the farmhouse for my evening drink and found Natalie beside herself with worry.”

“You know Greg, obviously?”

“Isn’t ‘knew’ the operative word? I can guess why you’re here, superintendent. I saw it in your eyes and I think she did, although she doesn’t want to face the truth. You’ll have to break it to her soon. Have you found the body?”

The gall of the man. Diamond was hard pressed to keep this civil. “I asked if you know Greg.”

“The precious Greg? A bit. I’ve seen him here from time to time, but Natalie owns the farmhouse and all the outbuildings, so she’s my main point of contact. Greg was an adjunct.”

“A what?”

“Something extra she took on one year when I was away on my travels. I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did.”

“You knew her before he moved in?”

“Years before.”

“I gather you don’t get on with him.”

“No reason to. He went his way — into the farmhouse — and I went mine — into the small barn. He was something important in television, but it never washed with me. I judge people as I find them and one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but I can’t say I’m sorry he’s gone. He didn’t care for me or Caesar. More importantly, I don’t think he cared much for Natalie.”

“He helped her run the pottery after she got ill. She told me that herself.”

“Yes, turning into chief cook and bottle washer must have come as a shock to a high-flier like Greg. Living here and using the pottery as a hotel suited him nicely when she was in good health.” He hesitated, stroking his beard, trying to appear in command of these exchanges, yet keen for more information. “I asked you a moment ago if you’ve found the body.”

“Not yet,” Diamond said, “but there’s strong evidence he was murdered and forensics ought to confirm it soon. I think she’d prefer to be told in her own home.”

“If I may say so, your record at failing to find corpses is second to none, superintendent. Is this the third, or the fourth?”

Diamond wasn’t taking that without a riposte. “I can tell when a major crime has been committed and you’ll have questions to answer, my friend.”

Natalie had already reached the gateway to the field and was talking to the policeman on duty.

“Oh my hat. If she tries to drive in she could tip over,” Legat told Diamond with genuine alarm. He was acting like a guardian — or a spouse.

Legat legged it. And Caesar went, too.

Diamond followed at a brisk walk while asking himself how serious this relationship was and what it meant to the investigation. Legat had put himself firmly back in the frame. He’d been present at the scene of Jake Nicol’s disappearance and now he’d placed himself suspiciously close to another and with an obvious motive for murder.

In the field, white-clad figures in a long row were progressing slowly towards the other side, a surreal spectacle. Within the cordoned area near the gate, the scene-of-crime team were at work, bent like fruit pickers. A curved spine must be a hazard of the job.

By the time Diamond reached the gateway, Natalie had explained who she was and was being helped over a protective tarpaulin and into the field. She didn’t get far, even with Legat pushing the scooter. She was forced to watch the search from behind some DO NOT ENTER tape. The sight of so much activity could only increase her suspicion that this was being treated as a murder scene.

Diamond had a new concern. Wolfgang would surely be one of the stooped figures in polypropylene gear and would spot him and start sounding off about bloodstain patterns, so he took the initiative and called out, “We’re not here to interrupt you, Wolfgang. This lady is the missing man’s partner.”

One of them straightened, gave a kind of wave, and continued his work.

Natalie turned to face Diamond. “Now will you tell me the truth about Greg?”

“Shall we return to the pottery?”

The care nurse had left and Will Legat had clearly taken over her duties. He lifted Natalie off the scooter and into her wheelchair as if handling her was as natural as whistling to Caesar. The effort showed considerable strength. And the way the so-called down-and-out moved about the farmhouse kitchen making coffee and knowing where to find everything showed he was no longer confined to the barn.

“I’ll take my coffee through and watch television,” he said in a lordly tone. “I sense that you folk need privacy. Come, Caesar.”

The dog heaved itself up from the warm spot in front of the Aga and padded out to the living room.

“That’s what I call tact,” Diamond said after the door was closed, “and the man showed some as well.”

“He’s a good man,” Natalie said.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

She clicked her tongue. This was off to a bad start. “Well — what have you been keeping from me?”

Diamond took a seat on the opposite side of the large, square kitchen table, with Ingeborg to his right, closer to Natalie. Keeping his account low-key and unemotional, he told her about the dashboard camera and the violence it had captured.

She listened in silence, shut her eyes when he spoke of the large bloodstain on the ground, but otherwise stayed in control.

“To be totally sure, we must wait for the test results,” Diamond thought it right to add.

“Is this why the woman in the forensic suit went up to Greg’s room yesterday?”

“For samples of his DNA. If we get a match, we’ll know.”

“Know that Greg is dead, you mean?” She wasn’t letting him gloss over the obvious.

“I’m afraid you should prepare yourself for that. Can you think of anyone with a grudge against him?”

“I told you before. He doesn’t discuss the people at work. He likes to leave all that behind.”

“Any enemies out here at Combe Hay, then?”

“Sometimes buyers of my work find their way here, but they’re friendly. They wouldn’t have any reason to harm Greg. They’re the only visitors. We don’t see anyone else except delivery people.”

“Aren’t you forgetting someone? Your friend in the next room doesn’t deliver things. He expects to be given them.”

“Will is the exception. He turned up out of the blue a long time ago, before I met Greg. He asked to use one of the outbuildings for an overnight stop. I could tell he was a genuine traveller and not a threat.”

“And he became a regular?”

“If once a year is regular.”

“Is he jealous?”

“Of Greg? I can’t think why.” But the colour returned to her cheeks, betraying some duplicity in her answer.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said. “What must Will Legat have felt the first time he turned up for his annual visit and found Greg installed here, having moved in permanently with you?”

“That shows how little you know Will.”

“I see a different side of him, ma’am.”

“Negative emotions like jealousy are no good to him. He left them behind when he quit the business world and became independent. He had to be mentally strong. He expects nothing but rejection from anyone. He’ll take what’s offered, but you can’t hurt him. Big changes in our lives call for a rethink, as I well know.”

Sharp observations that rang true. She wasn’t naive. She had Legat summed up. His strength of personality fitted him well for the alternative life he had chosen. In that last remark, she was talking about her own situation. She’d adjusted to a crippling illness and now she faced another huge reversal, the loss of the man who had enabled her to continue as a potter.

Diamond found himself thinking about the drastic life changes this woman had endured. Beside them, his own current crisis was small beer. What was an enforced retirement compared to Natalie’s problems? He should be drawing strength from her bravery.

Ingeborg must have sensed his thoughts going off track. “We’re looking at a bigger picture, Natalie,” she said. “What seems to have happened to Greg is similar to what happened to two other men connected to the Swift show. Did he ever speak about people going missing?”

“Not to me.”

“I’m sure it must have preyed on his mind. There’s been a lot in the press. He could have suspected someone he knew was behind the bad things going on.”

“If you say so.”

“Anything you can think of, however trivial, may help us bring them to justice.”

Natalie shook her head. “There’s nothing. You talk about things preying on Greg’s mind, but he doesn’t let that happen. He deals with problems when they come along. My illness came as a massive shock to me. Greg didn’t agonise over it. He thought of practical solutions like finding the right aids for me, an adjustable chair and the power-driven wheel and loading the kiln himself. He runs the house as well, the cooking, the cleaning, everything.”

“That’s true devotion.”

She seemed to play the words over before saying, “I wouldn’t call it that. We had sex for a time that we both enjoyed, but we weren’t romantically attached in the way most couples are. This will make me sound a selfish bitch, but the reason I’ll miss him is that I can’t run the pottery without him.”

A piece of candour so unexpected that Diamond felt the need to chip in again, this time speaking to Ingeborg. “The help wasn’t all one way. Greg owed his career to Natalie. He got the Swift job through one of her pottery patrons. Before that, he was delivering the pots for her.”

“And before that?” Ingeborg said.

Another shake of the head from Natalie. “He doesn’t talk about his past.”

“Ever? And you didn’t ask?”

“Once or twice and then he said something like it was a closed book. He must have had an unhappy time because he’d talk in his sleep and it was obvious he was really distressed.”

“What did he say?”

She shrugged. “No idea. It was in his own language.”

Diamond sat forward. “What do you mean by that? What language?”

“He’s Romanian.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I only found out because he renewed his passport and it arrived in the post addressed to Grigore Dinescu. He dismissed it as unimportant and told me he anglicised the name because he wants to be accepted here without having to go over the story each time he meets someone.”

Diamond was so unprepared for this that he slipped into Natalie’s way of speaking about the man as if he was still alive. “There isn’t a hint of anything foreign in his speech. I thought only a Brit could do that over-the-top theatre-speak he does.”

“He got in the way of talking like that within days of starting at Bottle Yard studios. He’s a born mimic. Before that, he spoke a kind of estuary English. The contrast made me laugh. Made us both laugh.”

“Have you asked him about his life in Romania?”

“Of course, but each time a certain look comes over his face and I know it’s not for discussion. I’ve learned since — but not from Greg — that people suffered terribly there forty years ago when he was growing up.”

Ingeborg had her phone out. “Would you spell that Romanian name?”

Inge’s efficiency prompted Diamond to find a way through his own scrambled thoughts. After Natalie had spelt the name he said, “I wonder if the passport is in his room.”

“You’re welcome to look, but it won’t be,” Natalie said. “He carries it with him at all times. People who’ve lived in police states get used to being asked for their ID.”

“We’ll check, even so,” he said. The previous room search had been made by the crime scene investigator looking for DNA, not a passport. He asked Ingeborg to see to it.

Left alone with Natalie, he said, “I think you sensed it was bad news about Greg.”

She said with an air of resignation, “When two police officers come calling, it isn’t to talk about the weather.”

“Is Will going to stay the night?”

“He said he would.” Her voice became warmer. “I’m so fortunate he was here when this happened. He’s a hero, better than the caretaker.”

“He speaks well of you.”

“It’s more than just words. Right now he could be in Bath making money from the tourists instead of looking after me.”

“I think Caesar earns the money.”

“I’m getting to appreciate him, too.”

Diamond’s brain was in overdrive, deciding whether Natalie’s so-called hero could be Greg Deans’s killer. Having walked the lane many times, Legat knew how little used it was, ideal for an ambush. He must have been well aware of the gateway to the field where the car was found. He possessed a hi-vis jacket and a knife. He would have known when Deans was expected home. He had the means of murder and the opportunity.

The motive?

A permanent home. Replace Greg. Simple as that.

When Ingeborg returned from searching the room, she spread her hands in disappointment. “No passport. Nothing personal in there except his clothes.”

Diamond turned to Natalie. “Where was Will on the evening Greg didn’t come home?”

“Will?” She spoke his name as if it hadn’t come up at all in their exchanges, but she was pink-faced again. “In the barn where he stays.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“Most of the time he was. Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s in the sitting room.”

“I’m asking you and you can’t be certain of his movements, can you?”

“I don’t know what you mean. He’s been staying here for days. He goes into Bath by day with Caesar, and they sleep here at nights.”

“Yes, but how much do you see of him?”

The blush turned even deeper. “Quite a bit more now that Greg can’t help me.”

“And before the attack?”

“He’s in here for breakfast, if that’s what you’re asking. He likes his cooked breakfast.” She added, as if in an afterthought, “And he makes himself a mug of cocoa about ten in the evening.”

“Here in the kitchen?”

“Yes. It’s a treat, he says. We have fresh milk.”

“So you saw him here the evening Greg didn’t return home? Think carefully, Natalie. Your answer is important.” Diamond didn’t speak the word “alibi” but each of them knew it was behind the question. If any of this made sense, Legat was a hard, hard man who didn’t think twice about killing people. He’d knifed Jake Nicol to death for nothing more than the belt. That and his bloodstained clothes were being held as evidence. He’d probably done for Dave Tudor for some equally trivial reason. And now Deans. All three had gone missing while he was visiting Bath. He might well have committed other unsolved murders around the country.

Natalie said in a calm, confident tone, “He was here, yes.”

“At his usual time, about ten?”

“I’m sure of it. I was waiting here with the oven on when he came in and I told him Greg was really late.”

“How did he seem — surprised?”

“He was sympathetic. He did his best to calm my nerves. I was already worried.”

“You’re sure of the time?”

“I remember looking at the clock and telling him Greg was three-quarters of an hour overdue. I was thinking he would get here by nine fifteen, so I’m sure it was ten o’clock.”

Diamond did some mental arithmetic. The time of the murder on the dashboard camera was 9:20. If Will Legat had been here in the kitchen by 10, straight from a bloody murder, cleaned up and ready for his cocoa, he wasn’t merely the coolest of killers. He was the quickest. A professional magician might have managed it. Trickery apart, it couldn’t be done — even allowing that the crime scene was only half a mile away.

Natalie had provided the alibi. But was she telling the truth, or covering for Legat?

“Did he stay here, to keep you company?”

“For a while, yes.”

“How long, Natalie?”

“I can’t tell you. I was too troubled by then to notice what the time was. He had Caesar to think about, so he went back to the barn.”

“Leaving you alone all night?”

She lowered her eyes and sighed. “He came back and persuaded me to get some sleep on the sofa in the sitting room. I can’t see how this has any bearing on what happened to Greg.”

“He seems to have taken over from Greg. You called him your hero a few minutes ago. I saw the way he lifted you off the mobility scooter.”

She nodded. “He’s been doing everything for me since I was left without Greg’s help. Intimate things I don’t like to speak about.”

“This is going to sound intrusive—”

She cut him off. “I know what you’re going to ask. Will can stay here as long as he likes. He treats me with absolute kindness and he’s a pleasure to be with.”

“You have no concerns about him at all?”

“Haven’t I made myself clear? He doesn’t do drugs, or get drunk, or steal from people. He chose his way of life. He’s a good man. I know it.”

“A gentleman of the road?”

“A gentleman through and through.”

As they moved off in the car, Ingeborg said, “That was quite some character reference.”

“Sincere?”

“I thought so. I found her persuasive, didn’t you?”

“Actually, I did,” Diamond said without sounding pleased about it. “He’s worked his charm on her and I doubt whether he’ll be sleeping in the barn much longer — if he hasn’t moved in already.”

“That’s unworthy of you, guv.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cynical.”

“Realistic, Inge.”

“I saw no sign of him when I was upstairs.”

He laughed. “Did you look in the other bedrooms? You’re no better than I am. She was reasonably honest, wasn’t she? I believed most of what she said. I think she’d have told us if they were sharing a bed. None of it sounded rehearsed.”

“Not even when she talked about the evening of the attack?”

“Especially that bit.”

“She said he came in at ten. He’d have needed to be supercharged to do the murder and get there for his cocoa in just over half an hour.”

“Agreed, she’s given him an alibi and it would have been watertight if she’d said she saw him at nine fifteen walking the dog across the yard. She didn’t. She gave this elaborate account of him appearing in the kitchen at his usual time and it came over as spontaneous, as if she was picturing it in her mind.”

“You don’t think she’s lying for him?”

“No. She’s on the level. She’s making a huge mistake letting him into her life, but the poor woman hasn’t much choice. Do we agree on that?”

“You still don’t trust him?”

“No, but I trust her and I’m now in two minds about him killing Greg Deans. I’m not forgetting we have his bloodstained clothes from the stabbing at Charmy Down and I’m keeping a mental note that he was present in Bath when Dave Tudor disappeared.”

“Not enough for a prosecution, guv.”

“More’s the pity, no. What did you make of Greg being Romanian?”

“Amazing. Who would have thought it? I can’t wait to look into his past. What was all the secrecy about? Was he an illegal immigrant?”

“Unlikely if he has a passport,” Diamond said. “Romania is in the European Union. And having worked here so long, he’ll have been given settled status.”

“Why hide it from everyone?”

“I’m willing to believe he wanted to identify with the TV people, and no questions asked, as Natalie told us. Like she said, the past was too painful to speak about. Tough times he wanted to forget. Under that dictator with the unpronounceable name—”

“Ceauşescu.”

“Thanks. The secret police were into every corner of society. People guarded their words. There was suffering, starvation and your neighbours ready to inform on you if you put a foot wrong. Who wouldn’t want to put that nightmare behind them?”

“Is it a red herring, then, his nationality?”

“It’s one more thing to check on. I don’t put it higher than that. However...”

Ingeborg waited. Diamond seemed to be lost in thoughts of his own.

He said, “I don’t like these narrow lanes. Slow down a bit.”

She eased her foot on the pedal. “I wasn’t even doing twenty, guv.”

He picked up his thread again. “One of the others who went missing had a foreign inflection in his voice.”

“David Tudor. They thought it was his Welsh accent.”

“But someone — Sabine, I believe — told me there was suspicion at one time that Tudor was here illegally. What if he was originally Romanian as well? What if all three missing men came from Romania? What did Greg’s room look like?”

“Soulless. You wouldn’t think he’s lived there for years. It could have been a hotel room.”

“Ready for the next guest.”

She laughed. “Or resident. Do you think Will Legat is ready to exchange his walking boots for carpet slippers?”

“He can hardly wait.”

“I’m worried for Natalie now.”

“He won’t attack her. He’s happy to play the part of her caretaker and have a roof over his head. We can let her enjoy being looked after until he gets on the road again.”

“I hope you’re right, guv. Too soon to hope for news from the lab, I suppose? Have you checked your phone lately?”

He pulled it out, pressed and waited.

“Not switched on?” she asked.

“It needs charging. I’m conserving the power for emergencies.”

“Got you.” But she didn’t sound impressed.

Nothing from the lab. Instead, he found a voice message from Earnshaw, the dive supervisor, asking him to call back. “I’m not looking forward to this one,” Diamond said. “He’ll tell me they finished at the marina and found nothing but scrap.”

He was wrong.

The words were heavy with recrimination. “I’ve been trying to reach you for the past hour and a half. Early this morning we hooked out an item that may be of interest to you. A large suitcase, strapped and heavy.”

He tensed. “Where was it?”

“Right where Deck the Halls is moored.”

With difficulty, he resisted the impulse to yell, What did I tell you?

Earnshaw added, “We haven’t opened it.”

“Don’t,” he said. “That’s a job for forensics and I need to be there. Where is it right now?”

“Here on the jetty. There’s something bulky inside.”