Stagestruck

20

South-east of Bath in the thick of the Friday afternoon commute along the A36, Diamond drove at his usual steady forty, heading a procession increasingly desperate to overtake. At his side was a detective sergeant almost his own age who had transferred from Chipping Sodbury a couple of months back, a soft-speaking, dependable type. Lew Rogers had merged into the CID room almost unnoticed. This was a chance to get to know him better. About all Diamond had discovered was that he cycled to work from Batheaston. Either a fitness freak or a green, he had decided.

‘I’ll be relying on you to guide me to the street where this woman lives,’ Diamond said. ‘I generally steer clear of Warminster.’

‘Why is that? All the sightings of UFOs?’

‘No. The bypass.’

They both smiled. Back in the sixties and seventies there had been persistent reports of flying saucers over Warminster and the nearby downs. There were claims that some local residents had been abducted. Books had been written about extra-terrestrial visitors.

‘Have you thought about getting a sat-nav?’ Rogers asked in his innocence.

‘Got one.’

‘Where is it?’

‘It’s you, sat here and navving for me. More reliable, I hope, and with extras, like hands. If you look in the glove compartment you’ll find some Softmints. Have one yourself.’

‘Thanks, but I won’t.’ Rogers said. He passed a mint to Diamond. ‘Does Kate live alone?’

‘As far as I know, yes.’

‘Are you going to nick her?’

‘If necessary.’

‘Is she on the run?’

‘Would I be driving at this speed if she was?’

‘I was told you don’t do more than forty in any situation.’

Diamond looked ahead without even the suggestion of a smile. ‘You’re well informed. There’s a stretch of dual carriageway coming up. They can all overtake if they want. We’ll get there soon enough. We’re not far off now.’

Two minutes later, all the brake lights started going on. Both lanes of the carriageway were blocked as far ahead as he could see.

‘Shouldn’t have spoken. What’s this about?’ he said. ‘One of those idiots who just overtook us, I wouldn’t wonder.’

Everything came to a complete halt.

‘Could be road works,’ Rogers said.

‘I don’t think so.’ He’d heard the two-tone wail of an emergency vehicle from behind. ‘Can they get by?’

An ambulance snaked a route through the stationary traffic.

Diamond switched off the engine and took out his phone. After speaking to traffic division he informed Rogers that the problem was half a mile ahead, almost in the town. ‘Some idiot managed to turn his car over and the fire service are using their cutting equipment. Fancy a game of I Spy?’

‘Perhaps I will have one of your mints, guv.’

‘Live dangerously.’ Fitness was Rogers’ thing, Diamond decided.

He dialled CID for an update and was pleased when Ingeborg answered. She was better than any of the team at summing up what was happening, and was just back from interviewing the chairman of the board at Melmot Hall.

‘Learn anything new?’ he asked.

‘Yes, and I would have called you if you’d kept your phone on.’

‘You’re in danger of nagging the boss, Inge. I was driving.’

‘You’ve got someone with you who could take a call, guv. Anyway, this will make you sit up. Melmot told me Kate is working her notice. He sacked her a week ago.’

‘Melmot sacked Kate?’ he said more to himself than Ingeborg, to gain a couple of seconds while the implications sank in.

‘He said there had been problems with her before, not doing the job properly.’

‘Now he tells us.’

‘She’d clung on because of her relationship with Shearman, who always backs her and says the criticism is unfair. But when Mel mot was approached about the state of the wardrobe room he went to see it for himself and was so appalled that he fired her.’

‘It was a dog’s breakfast when I saw it,’ he said, ‘but I’ve no experience of these places.’

‘You can’t run a theatre wardrobe in such a mess. Everything has to be in place and organised.’ That was one of Ingeborg’s favourite refrains. She was right, of course, whether it was a theatre wardrobe or a CID office.

‘Shearman was silent about this when I questioned him.’

‘He would be.’

‘He did say at one point that her heart isn’t in it any more. That should have alerted me. He doesn’t give much away.’

‘Do you want to know who the whistle-blower was?’

‘Go on.’

‘Denise Pearsall.’

He gave a whistle of his own. ‘That could be the clincher. Melmot told you this?’

‘He said she took some photographs of the wardrobe room with her phone and went to see him with them.’

‘She was asking for trouble, shopping her boss.’ The facts were slotting in like the last pieces of a jigsaw. ‘Kate must have known who dropped her in it. You can’t keep stuff like that to yourself. This is dynamite, Inge. It means she had a red-hot motive for revenge on Denise. And if she thought Denise had mentioned any of this to Clarion, she had a strong reason to kill Clarion as well.’

Ingeborg sounded a note of caution. ‘Before we get carried away, guv, let’s not forget Shearman. He’s Kate’s lover. He could have killed Denise. In his case, there was a personal element because Denise ignored him, went over his head and complained to Melmot.’

‘Point taken. And he was the best placed of everyone to murder Clarion.’ He pressed back against the headrest and released some of the tension with a huge sigh. ‘Whoever it is, we’re onto them. When I get to see Kate, I’ll know. The one small problem is that I’m stuck in a bloody traffic jam. Nothing is moving.’

A further ten minutes went by. The hold-up had reached the stage when people were out of their cars discussing what was going on. Diamond remained seated, thinking of other things, using the time to revisit each stage of the murders, down to such detail as the placing of the butterfly in dressing room one and the secreting of the suicide note in the stove. Nothing conflicted with either Kate or Shearman committing both murders.

‘When we finally get moving again and find the house,’ he said to Lew Rogers, ‘we’ll make sure she doesn’t see us coming and escape through the back. I’ve had that happen before. I’ll park some distance up the street and you can make the first approach. She knows me. I don’t think she’s met you.’

‘I was in the theatre last night with the others.’

‘But you didn’t speak to her. Anyway, you’re lower profile than I am.’

Ahead there was the sound of doors being slammed and engines starting.

‘Thank God for that.’

Progress was still slow, but at least there was movement. It went from a crawl to a sedate ten-mile-an-hour cruise as far as the roundabout and then slowed again on the two-way approach road to Warminster. Rogers looked up from the street atlas. ‘There’s another way into the town, but it may be just as congested.’

‘We’ll settle for this.’

Ahead was a police car with its blues flashing and a uniformed cop guiding the line of traffic past the scene of the accident.

‘Nasty,’ Diamond said as they came alongside a mangled blue saloon being lifted onto a breakdown truck. ‘Must have hit that tree. I wonder if it was fatal.’ Then he realised he was rubbernecking and gave his attention to the road ahead.

Lew Rogers was good with the map. Away from the town centre, Warminster is a maze of side streets and dead ends. He directed them unerringly off the High Street and over a railway bridge to the estate where Kate lived. The houses there must have been built as army quarters to support the nearby barracks, functional brick buildings without much to distinguish them. Some boys were kicking a football in the road.

Diamond succeeded in reaching the end without running over a child and parked at the curbside. ‘Did you spot the house?’

‘I did. It’s the one with the yellow door about halfway along.’

The way the houses were sited, an escape route from the back looked unlikely. Tall fences enclosed the back gardens.

‘Shall I see if she’s in, guv?’ Rogers asked.

‘Why not? Give me a wave if she is.’

Rogers started the walk back, watched covertly in the rearview mirror by Diamond and openly by the young footballers.

Rogers went through the gate and rang the bell on the yellow door.

Diamond watched and waited. The footballers had suspended play.

No one came to the door.

Presently Rogers returned to the car. ‘Nothing doing. The kids say they know when she’s home because she parks her car outside, a blue Vauxhall Astra.’

A disquieting thought popped into Diamond’s mind, but he dismissed it.

‘What do we do now?’ Rogers said.

‘We can at least see if she comes along in the next half-hour. She could have been caught in the traffic jam, like us.’

The evening light was still good although the shadows were lengthening. Behind the houses, the downs were turning pink. A fertile imagination wouldn’t have had much difficulty in seeing flying saucers.

‘Will we wrap this up tonight?’ Rogers asked.

‘I hope so. Why – do you have plans for the weekend?’

‘Not really.’

‘Married, are you?’

‘Second time around.’

‘She’ll have plans, then.’

‘No doubt.’

Diamond took another look at the house. ‘Was that ground-floor window open when you went to the door?’

‘I’m sure it was.’

‘Careless of her. Anyone could get in.’

‘True.’

After a pause, Diamond said, ‘We shouldn’t leave it unsecured. In fact, we have a civic duty to investigate.’

Rogers clearly understood what the head of CID intended. He may have been shocked, but he had the good sense not to mention it. The two of them approached the house. The security risk in question was a small top window opened for ventilation.

‘Your arm is longer than mine,’ Diamond said. ‘If I give you a hand-up, see if you can reach in and unfasten the catch on the window below.’

The footballers came closer while Diamond was helping Rogers get a foot on the outer ledge. The smallest of them, prompted by the others, said, ‘What are you doing, mister? Are you breaking in?’

‘It’s all right,’ Diamond called back. ‘We’re the police, making sure it’s safe.’

‘How do we know you’re the police?’

‘A burglar wouldn’t do this in broad daylight with you lot watching, that’s why.’

Rogers lifted the catch on the lower window and they both climbed in. The place was appreciably tidier than Kate’s workplace. A black sofa covered with a purple throw. Afghan rug. Flat-screen TV.

‘Can you work a computer?’ Diamond asked.

‘Depends what sort.’

‘See if you can find hers and run a sheet of blank paper through the printer.’

‘It’s right here against the wall.’ Rogers checked that the paper in the feed was clean and then passed a couple of sheets through and handed them to Diamond. ‘I don’t know what you’re expecting to find, guv.’

‘It isn’t this,’ Diamond said. The sheets were still pristine. ‘Mind, she could have used another machine. I’ll have a look round.’

A swift tour of the small house revealed no second printer and nothing else in the way of evidence. Up in the bedroom he started in surprise when his own phone emitted its archaic ring-tone. He’d left it switched on after speaking to Ingeborg. The voice was hers again.

‘Where are you now, guv – still in Warminster?’

He avoided a specific answer. ‘Should I be somewhere else?’

‘You don’t need to wait there, anyway. Kate was in a car accident on her way home. She turned it right over, only a short way from the town.’

That disquieting thought resurfaced and chided him, gloating: I told you so.

‘Is she alive?’

‘So they’re saying. She was taken to A & E at Salisbury Hospital. I don’t know what condition she’s in.’

‘We’re halfway there. We’ll find out.’

Like all main hospitals, Salisbury has insufficient parking. Even detectives on police business have to search for a space. By the time Diamond found one, it was a fair walk to Accident & Emergency. They did, at least, get some priority at the enquiry desk and learned that Kate was not critically injured. She had some minor abrasions and was being assessed for concussion. They were told the way to the out-patients’ canteen.

‘You know what that means,’ Diamond said to Rogers. ‘This could take a long time.’

‘Shall I fetch some coffee?’

‘Good thinking. And a beef sandwich would go down well.’

He called Ingeborg again to update her. The mobile was getting more use in one day than it had in months. ‘Will you stay at the hospital?’ she asked.

‘One of us will, for sure.’

‘How did the accident happen?’

‘We don’t know yet.’

‘Is it possible more than one vehicle was involved?’

He sensed at once what she was thinking, that Kate may have been forced off the road in a cynical attempt to kill her. Kate as victim would mean a reversal of the way he was thinking. ‘Hard to tell until we get a chance to speak to her. We saw her car being lifted from the scene and there wasn’t another at that stage.’

‘They’d have driven on.’

‘I know what you’re getting at. She’s being assessed for concussion, so she may have no memory. It’ll be up to the accident investigation team to tell us, and they won’t be quick. What’s going on at your end?’

‘Not much, I’m afraid,’ Ingeborg said. ‘Paul is back from the theatre. He was checking all the printers there. He says he did a printout on every one, but there wasn’t a single match with the suicide note. That line of enquiry doesn’t look promising.’

‘He’d better not give up on it. I expect it was printed at home on a personal computer. He’ll just have to visit each of the suspects.’

‘He knows, guv. He’ll see the job through.’

‘Tell him he needn’t go out to Warminster for Kate’s machine.’

‘Why is that?’

‘It’s been cleared. No specks at all.’ He moved swiftly on. ‘Who else is around?’

‘John Leaman. He finished that search of the theatre and found I don’t know how many carrier bags. And Fred Dawkins has just left for that Sweeney Todd rehearsal. He’s done a solid job on Binns, checking with previous employers. We now have a complete career record. A few blemishes, but nothing of obvious interest. Binns doesn’t seem to have had any previous connection with Clarion or Denise or the Theatre Royal.’

‘Is Keith still with Shearman?’

‘No, he came back an hour ago, wanting to give the little fink enough rope to hang himself, he says.’

‘Not literally, I hope. And what’s your take on Francis Melmot?’

Her sigh could be heard down the phone. ‘I’m in two minds, guv. He’s far from silent, but he gives nothing away. I’m sure he’s an excellent chairman of the trustees because he’s so discreet. Personally I find him charming and affable and I think he truly cares about the theatre. But his decision to employ Clarion was a disaster. All of this mayhem was triggered by him and I suspect there’s more he hasn’t told us.’

‘Like sacking Kate? ’

‘Well, yes.’

‘How did you wheedle that out of him?’

‘I traded.’

‘Traded what?’

‘I made some suggestive remark about Shearman and Kate and he obviously didn’t know what they get up to in wardrobe. He was shocked into telling me she’d already been dismissed.’

‘Why hadn’t he told us before now?’

‘He didn’t want the theatre’s reputation damaged any more than it has been already.’

‘Shearman didn’t tell us anything about the sacking either.’

‘Well, he’s been exploiting it, hasn’t he?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Encouraging Kate to think that by cosying up to him she’ll get a reprieve. Small chance. Melmot runs the show and Shearman has hardly any influence with him at all.’

For Diamond, this was a new angle on the goings-on in wardrobe. ‘So you think Kate is pulling him to save her job?’

‘I’d put it another way. Shearman is cynically taking advantage.’

‘I thought it was straightforward sex.’

‘A typically male assumption, if I may say so.’

Sharp, he thought. He wouldn’t get into a debate with Ingeborg about that. ‘Nice work with Melmot, anyway. Things are making more sense. Are you working late?’

‘That’s what you asked us to do.’ There was a definite note of dissent, unusual for Ingeborg. He expected it from the likes of Leaman and even Halliwell on occasions, but not Inge.

‘I’ll get back as soon as I can.’ If Inge was unhappy, he could imagine there was serious murmuring in the ranks. He understood why. Most of the interviews had been got through and put on file by now. The team was marking time, waiting for fresh orders but knowing he was an hour’s drive away. No doubt they were thinking of what they were missing on a Friday evening. He needed to convey his own belief that this was the calm before the storm.

Difficult, down the phone from Salisbury. When he’d started on this trip he’d expected to question Kate in Warminster and be back in Bath by early evening.

He pocketed the mobile and stepped up to the desk again and reminded them who he was and asked if he could see Kate now. He was told firmly to wait with everyone else. He asked how long that was likely to be and they said they weren’t in a position to say.

More marking time. He wasn’t good at it. Not that Friday night clubbing held any appeal for a man his age; he just wanted to make better use of the time.

But an idea was coming to him. It wouldn’t be the ideal solution. Better than sitting around here for a couple of hours.

When Rogers returned with the coffee and sandwiches, Diamond said, ‘They’re busy here. I’ve seen a couple of serious cases brought in while you were getting these.’

‘It’s Friday evening, guv. It’s expected in casualty.’

‘Could be a long one, I’m thinking.’

‘Me, too.’

He took a sip of the coffee. ‘This is welcome.’

‘Good.’

‘There’s someone I wouldn’t mind seeing while I’m over here. Lives at Wilton. That isn’t far from Salisbury, is it?’

‘Not far at all.’ A twitch of Rogers’ lips showed his immediate assumption: that Diamond had a woman friend.

‘It’s not police business,’ Diamond said. ‘I’d be leaving you in charge for an hour or so. Would you mind? You could phone me if there’s a problem.’

‘I’ll still be here. I don’t have my bike with me.’