The Secret Hangman

27

P olice headquarters was twenty miles off, at Portishead, ridiculously inconvenient whenever Diamond was summoned there, ideally placed whenever Georgina attended and was gone for the day. But she could still use a phone and did this afternoon after Diamond forgot to call about Operation Fleece. She gave his ear a blasting for ten minutes, after which he decided she’d had her say. It was a fine judgement when to cut Georgina off. He reckoned at four fifteen in the afternoon she would be thinking about the tailbacks on the approach to Bristol and not wanting to dial the CID room a second time.

She would have no luck if she did, because he was making another call. He reached Jim Middleton at home, and knew from the tone of voice that Jim’s home was Jim’s castle. The retired pathologist had pulled up the drawbridge and was ready on the battlements with boiling oil. Appealing to his better nature wasn’t going to work this time.

Diamond went for the weakest point. He said this was going to sound like a bad joke, but someone had lodged an official complaint about the Melksham tea dances. It seemed they were against the law, or at least against a by-law governing the use of the Melksham assembly hall, a carry-over from Victorian times, when public dances were thought to encourage immorality and maybe did. All was not yet lost, however. Fortunately he knew one of the Wiltshire magistrates and she had the power to issue a special licence making the dances into private functions.

Jim was relieved to hear this. He was quite disarmed. Diamond said there was no need for Jim to do anything or speak to anyone about the threat. But as a quid pro quo, would he give an opinion on two more autopsy reports? Jim swore at him and called him a conman, but there was just enough in the story to cause him doubt. He was hooked.

Diamond arranged to have them delivered to Jim within the hour.

After that, an early getaway beckoned. The big man emerged from his office into the open-plan area.

‘Are you leaving, guv?’ Paul Gilbert said. The lad had so much to learn.

‘What if I am?’

‘No problem. It can wait till tomorrow.’

This time it was Diamond who was hooked. ‘What can wait?’

‘Probably nothing. A burnt-out vehicle up at the racecourse. Kids, I expect.’

‘Who is this from?’

‘Uniform checked it out this afternoon. Call from someone out walking his dog. It’s all right, there was no corpse inside. I just thought you might be interested because we know the ram-raiders burn cars, and this was a four-by-four.’

‘Do we know the make?’

‘Nissan Pathfinder.’ Gilbert had a sudden thought. ‘Isn’t that the make you were interested in?’

Interested? It was sod’s law that this would be Paloma’s son’s car. ‘Registration?’

‘The plates were removed.’

‘I might as well take a look at it. Not far off my route.’

He drove up to Lansdown with the evening traffic and soon spotted the burnt-out wreck in the first car park you can see from the road. He swung off and drew in alongside. When there is no race meeting the only people who park up there are those wanting a walk.

The Pathfinder was gutted. No doubt they’d used some kind of accelerant. He didn’t want to mess his hands wiping away soot, but he could just make out that the original colour had been blue, like Jerry’s. He walked around the wreck thinking how he would handle this.

Paloma came to the door in a white bathrobe. ‘You!’ she said. ‘Well, at least it isn’t the Jehovah’s Witnesses.’

‘It’s obviously not a good time,’ he said. ‘I should have phoned ahead, but I was on the road.’

‘I was showering after a long day in the office, that’s all,’ she said. ‘No, in point of fact I was out of the shower and cutting my toenails if that makes you feel any better. Come in, Peter, it’s good to see you any time.’

He hesitated. ‘This is semi-official.’

‘And I’m semi-dressed. Do I have to stand on my doorstep?’

He stepped inside and she closed the door. In her large sitting room she said, ‘Now tell me what’s up.’

He told her about the burnt car on Lansdown. ‘We don’t know for sure that this was Jerry’s.’

‘But it’s the same make and colour?’ She had her hand to her throat. ‘He’s going to be inconsolable. He was so proud of that thing.’

‘Obviously we haven’t informed him. It was only found this afternoon. When we check the chassis number, if it’s still visible, we’ll know.’

‘He’s with clients all afternoon and doing the rounds of the wards with the library trolley this evening. Do you think I should call him, or leave it till tomorrow?’

‘If it were me, I’d like to know the worst as soon as possible.’

The worry was creasing her face. ‘I wish I could think of some way of softening the blow.’

‘If his insurance company is any good, he’ll get a replacement. They usually cover theft and fire.’

‘That’s a thought.’ She released a nervous breath. ‘I’ll break it to him now. Do you mind if I phone from the next room? Mothers say the silliest things to sons.’

‘Can I get a drink ready?’

‘What a good idea. A whopping great vodka and tonic. The cupboard in the corner.’

Left alone, with the drinks poured — his own more tonic than vodka — he looked at the art on the walls. No cheap reproductions, these. Abstract, large, in muted colours, they may not have been his choice, but they testified to the success of Once in Vogue. If he’d dabbled in shares he would have been asking if her company was open to investment.

She returned and said, ‘Whew! That was tough. Give me a hug.’

He didn’t just hug her, he kissed her as well.

‘Now where’s that drink?’ she said.

He handed it to her. ‘How did he take it?’

‘Pretty badly, poor old lad. It wasn’t his first car, but the first he’d really treated like a pet. He said he’ll drive up to Lansdown after he’s finished at the hospital.’

‘He’d do better tomorrow in some daylight.’

‘Try telling him. That was his baby.’ She’d emptied her glass. ‘I need more vodka in this, I think.’

He took the bottle across to her. She’d sat on the sofa. ‘Is this your favourite tipple?’

‘In times of stress. I was all of a tremble, seeing you and getting that unwelcome bit of news.’

‘A double shock?’

She gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I didn’t mean…’ She put the glass on the floor. ‘Oh, come over here and shag me to bits.’

She’d opened her bathrobe and was naked under it. She lay on the sofa in total confidence.

The speed of the invitation might have troubled many a man. It didn’t hamper Diamond. He did pretty much as asked.

They showered and Paloma found a bathrobe for him. Down in the kitchen she cooked a pasta dish with cream and chopped bacon and spinach. Fast food, but not from a packet. An Italian red wine came with it.

‘You’ll stay the night, won’t you?’ she said.

‘That wasn’t what I had in mind when I called.’

‘You simply planned to tell me about the wretched car and leave?’

‘It’s a mean man who takes advantage of a lady in distress.’

She said, ‘It was me who took advantage. I’m like that, I’m afraid. Don’t miss an opportunity.’

‘Likewise.’

‘Peter Diamond,’ she said. ‘You may be a red-hot detective, but you don’t know the half of it where I’m concerned. You can’t have any idea how much I wanted you.’

He smiled. ‘Detective work doesn’t apply here. You made your intention pretty clear.’

Now she was shaking her head and he could see she wanted to make a serious point. Her face had turned pale and she was twisting her fingers into knots. He wondered if he’d upset her. He wasn’t much of a hand at flirting.

‘Confession time,’ she said, and her voice shook a little. ‘I’ve been wanting to own up to this ever since that first evening. The bag of shopping you drove over at Sainsbury’s. I planted it there. It was a set-up. I wanted an excuse to meet you. Isn’t that appalling?’

He didn’t fully understand. ‘The child and the lost puppy? You made that up?’

‘I know. I’m shameless.’

He thought back to the incident. ‘Do you mean you saw me drive up in my car and decided you fancied me and planted your bag where I’d reverse over it?’

‘No, it’s worse than that.’

‘How?’

‘I was lying in wait.’

‘But we hadn’t met… had we?’

‘No.’ She sat back in her chair and studied her fingernails, avoiding eye contact. ‘Peter, I’m the woman who was pestering you. I wrote you a letter, and sent you the cake and spoke to you on the phone. You’re right. We hadn’t met, but not for want of trying.’

He was letting it sink in. ‘I must be so dim. I didn’t connect you with that letter at all.’

‘It’s scary, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I was stalking you.’

‘I wouldn’t call it stalking.’

‘I would. How else did I know you do your shopping in Sainsbury’s on Saturday evenings?’

‘Scary’ wasn’t the word for what had happened, but it made him uncomfortable. Up to now he’d thought he had some influence on how they’d met. He’d just found out how little it was.

‘You’ve gone awfully pale,’ she said.

‘Never could take a surprise.’

‘I wanted you to know the truth of it.’

‘Yes, and I appreciate that,’ he said. He wouldn’t let it damage the relationship, but in some ways he was wishing she hadn’t told him.

They were watching a DVD of The Third Man, Paloma’s head on his shoulder, when the doorbell chimed.

‘That’ll be Jerry,’ she said. ‘I thought he might show up.’

Jerry had the unlucky knack of showing up at inconvenient moments.

‘Peter’s with me,’ Paloma said, as she ushered him in.

Jerry said, ‘Hi, Peter.’ But his mind was on other things. ‘I’ve just come from Lansdown. I’m certain it’s my car.’

‘My poor darling,’ Paloma said, putting an arm around him. ‘Why did they have to set light to it? If they must steal a car, can’t they content themselves with driving it around and leaving it somewhere?’

‘They want to remove all traces of themselves,’ Diamond said. ‘Even the dimmest of joyriders have heard of DNA. We’ll have forensics look at it, anyway. Something may have survived the fire.’

‘Catching them won’t be much consolation,’ Jerry said.

‘You’ll be wanting to use the Porsche for some while longer,’ Paloma said.

‘Thanks, Mum, but no. It’s yours again. I’ve rented something bigger. The space is the problem. I’m on the move so much that I use the car as an office. I’ll call for a taxi in a minute and you can have your Porsche.’

‘Where do you live?’ Diamond said. ‘I can drive you home.’

‘What — and ruin your evening? You’re not even dressed. A taxi will do fine. But I could do with a bite to eat. Is there anything in the fridge, Mum?’

‘I expect so,’ Paloma said. ‘Have a look.’

When Jerry had left the room, Paloma gave Diamond a knowing smile and said, ‘Comfort food.’

‘Where does he live? I can easily run him back.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘That’s kind, but we can afford the taxi. Besides, I can see he’s a bit embarrassed. Nothing personal, but he doesn’t really approve of what I get up to.’

‘Is that the church bit?’

‘Probably. They’re all pro-marriage and anti-naughties from what I can gather. Wouldn’t suit me at all.’

‘Nor me,’ he said. ‘Where’s the fun in that?’

‘I’m told banging a tambourine is the height of ecstasy,’ Paloma said.

‘I’d be out of a job if it was.’

Jerry came back into the room spooning chocolate-chip ice cream from a tub. ‘Taxi’s on its way,’ he said. ‘I’m a bit low on bread, Mother, so I’ve helped myself to a loaf. And some slices from that chicken.’

‘Take the whole bird if you want,’ she said. ‘I don’t think I’m going to need it.’

‘You don’t know that,’ he said. ‘Peter might wake up feeling hungry.’