The Stone Wife

28

‘He’s scarpered.’

‘Already?’ Diamond said, his voice rising in annoyance. ‘But I particularly asked you to keep an eye on him.’

‘I did,’ Leaman said in the obstinate tone he used when he felt he was in the right. ‘If I’d followed him, you wouldn’t have known where either of us was.’

‘I carry a phone these days.’

‘But is it switched on?’

The team were taking his old habits for granted. In fact, in the last twenty-four hours the damn thing had not only been switched on, it had been used so much that it would soon need recharging. He ignored the last question. ‘Are you sure he’s left the pub?’

‘As soon as the vice chancellor went, so did Poke.’

‘I can’t have that. How long ago?’

‘Three or four minutes.’

‘He’s probably still in the car park saying goodbye to people. You don’t rush away from funerals.’

But when they looked outside it was clear that Dr. Poke wasn’t the lingering sort. The vice chancellor and his party were still in conversation beside the chauffeur-driven Mercedes, but no one else was in sight.

‘He’s not giving me the slip.’ Diamond strode over to the vice chancellor and introduced himself. ‘I’m investigating the shooting of John Gildersleeve and it’s of some importance that I speak to his close colleague, Dr. Poke, who seems to have left in the last few minutes. Would your office have his mobile number?’

It was swiftly arranged that Poke would receive a call from the vice chancellor’s office asking him to be available for an interview with the police in his own office on the campus at three.

‘That should guarantee it,’ Diamond said when he rejoined Leaman. ‘He’s so desperate to become professor that if the vice chancellor asked him to strip to the buff and jump off Caversham bridge he’d do it without a second’s hesitation.’

‘I expect he’d prefer that to meeting us,’ Leaman said.

‘I got on well enough last time. But he bobs and weaves. I’ll be glad of your help to get some straight answers.’

They drove across town to the Whiteknights campus, one of the few partially green areas left in Reading’s urban sprawl. Poke was waiting for them in the corridor outside the Old English suite, arms folded, ready for a confrontation. ‘Why did you have to involve the vice chancellor?’ he asked before he opened his office door.

‘He was the obvious person to ask. He’s a human being, not a tin god,’ Diamond said.

‘Did he recognise my name?’

‘Straight away.’

The start of a smile appeared as he allowed them inside.

Diamond added, ‘I don’t suppose there are too many Pokes in the senior common room.’

After they were waved towards chairs, Diamond introduced Leaman.

‘I saw you both at the funeral,’ Poke said. ‘I can’t imagine why you need to speak to me again.’

‘You were helpful last time,’ Diamond said. ‘But there are one or two matters we didn’t touch on.’

‘Such as?’

‘The Diphthongs.’

The face looked suddenly as if it was coated in chilli powder. ‘You’ve been talking to Monica.’

‘Her ex-husband, in fact.’

‘Him?’ he said with contempt. ‘I should have guessed. Only a philistine like Wefers would stoop to parading such a private matter before the police. This has no conceivable bearing on your investigation. Our short-lived liaison ended at least a year before Monica started up with Gildersleeve.’

‘But how did it begin?’

‘When she joined my university extension course.’

‘Extending to the pub afterwards and your bed.’

He caught his breath in annoyance and the fine red hair danced in sympathy. ‘That is so unnecessary. It’s all in the past.’

‘You had a visit from Mr. Wefers after he found out.’

He dismissed Bernie with a flap of the hand. ‘He came here with all guns blazing, and I treated him with the utmost civility and it spiked his guns, so to speak. Perhaps it was ungallant, but I left him in no doubt that Monica made the first approach — which is true. She felt neglected, and rightly so. He devotes far too much time to his business.’

The emphasis was different, but the facts agreed with Bernie’s own account.

‘Were you in love with her?’

‘Certainly not. I was a shoulder to cry on.’

‘You provided more than just a shoulder.’

‘Nothing that wasn’t welcomed at the time. Do we have to dissect everything like this?’

Diamond ignored the last remark. ‘And did it stop after Wefers complained to you?’

‘It did. She didn’t appear at my classes again.’

‘When did you learn that John Gildersleeve was having an affair with her?’

‘A long time after. I’m generally the last to hear of any gossip from the senior common room.’

‘Bit of a shock,’ Diamond said.

‘Now I see what this is about. You think I was jealous.’

‘Weren’t you?’

‘Absolutely not. I knew from my own entanglement with Monica that he was playing with fire. He was welcome to her.’

‘This wasn’t the reason why you and he had difficulty working together?’

Poke rebutted the suggestion with a sniff. ‘Not at all. That went back years. It may seem churlish of me to say so after that toe-curling eulogy we sat through this morning, but the truth is that Gildersleeve was a pathetic figure, unpopular with his students, delivering dull lectures and writing dull books. There, I’ve done it, speaking ill of the dead, but I want to make clear that sexual jealousy didn’t motivate me. The man was a pain in every way.’

‘When you say it went back years, was there some incident that caused the falling out?’

‘I wouldn’t say we were ever friends. We tolerated each other rather better in the early years than recently. He had this personal crisis you and I discussed before.’

‘The dig that didn’t deliver?’

‘Yes. The experience soured him. He was never the same after that ridiculous misadventure. You wouldn’t get me under canvas with a bunch of disaffected undergraduates for a single day, let alone a whole summer. Is it any surprise that when nothing was found after weeks of scraping, they took to sitting around smoking weed? He took it personally, stupid fellow.’

‘Monica told me one of them was sent down.’

‘For a later offence on the university premises, yes. The last straw, as far as Gildersleeve was concerned.’

‘The final spliff.’ Dr. Poke’s high-handed manner was bringing out the jester in Diamond.

‘Do you remember the name?’ Leaman asked.

‘Of the student? It’s difficult enough to hold in one’s head the names of all one’s present intake.’

Becoming more flippant by the minute, Diamond couldn’t resist saying, ‘Jack Flash?’

Poke looked out of his depth, and was.

‘Rhyming slang for hash.’

‘Oliver Reed,’ Leaman said, taking up the theme.

‘Not now, John.’ Two jokers on the team was too much. ‘You said the professor was a pain in every way, as if there were other defects we haven’t covered.’

‘How much time have you got? Personal habits, lack of professionalism, dangerous driving.’

‘Let’s do the driving.’

‘The man was a menace on the roads. He drove as if he was drunk, frequently having minor collisions. I don’t think he was capable of giving proper attention to the task.’

‘Did he injure anyone?’

‘He wouldn’t have told me if he had, and I’m certain he wouldn’t have informed your lot. But I saw him once attempting to park in Redlands Road, shunting back and forth. He owned a thing like a tank, known as the Defender.’

‘Land Rover,’ Leaman murmured.

‘He dented the cars either side of the space and then got out and walked away as if nothing had happened.’

‘Wouldn’t it have been obvious to the other owners?’

‘They would have noticed the damage to their own cars, but the Defender was already a mass of dents. He’d deny any memory of it.’

‘Did he drink?’

‘Not to excess. He drove badly because his head was filled with more important matters.’

‘Such as Monica?’

A shake of the head. ‘Some trivial point from The Canterbury Tales, more likely.’

‘With the damage he did to other cars, he must have had a reputation around the university.’

‘And in the town. Whenever he was caught, he paid up. He preferred to cover the damage himself. No insurance company would have done business with him if he’d claimed every time.’

All this was new information, to be followed up. ‘I wonder if he had a record,’ Diamond said to Leaman.

‘For his driving? I doubt it,’ Poke said. ‘He didn’t speed. He poodled along, but with his mind on other things.’

Leaman had his phone out and was checking the police computer. ‘He poodled over a pedestrian crossing with people about to step on it, three penalty points, and a set of traffic lights, three more points.’

‘Didn’t I tell you?’ Poke said, hands outstretched.

Diamond prised himself out of the chair. ‘I need another look at his office.’

‘There’s nothing in there,’ Poke said. ‘It was emptied, ready for the new professor — whenever he may be appointed.’

‘Emptied?’ Riled, Diamond asked, ‘On whose authority?’

‘Mine. Nobody said we should preserve the room as a morbid shrine. You took away the items you were interested in, the computer and some of the books. I had the rest boxed and put in storage for Monica, when she gets back from her sister’s.’

‘We should have sealed the place,’ Diamond said to Leaman as if it was his fault.

‘I wasn’t here, guv. This is my first visit.’

‘I’d still like to look at it,’ Diamond said, advancing on the connecting door.

‘As you wish,’ Poke said in a world-weary way, becoming used to Diamond’s cussedness.

Emptied it was. Not a stick of furniture remained. Even the carpet tiles had been taken up. The void seemed to affirm Poke’s triumph over his old adversary. Although the shape of the office was identical to his own, he planned to shift his things inside as soon as he got the go-ahead.

‘It’s in need of some redecoration,’ Diamond said.

‘That’s been arranged.’

‘I’m sure.’ He stepped closer to a cream-coloured oblong on the wall defined by the fading emulsion around it. ‘This was Chaucer on the stunted horse, the Ellesmere portrait.’

‘You have a good memory,’ Poke said.

‘I need it. When we talked before, you told me about another portrait, a drawing thought at first to be of Chaucer, but identified by Professor Gildersleeve as Thomas, the son.’

‘What of it?’

‘Quite a coup for Gildersleeve, I imagine, being consulted by the National Portrait Gallery.’

‘It’s not unusual to be asked for our professional opinion.’

‘He saved them some embarrassment, not to mention a vast amount of money.’

‘And naturally he basked in the publicity.’

‘Yes, you said it made the national press. Do you remember when?’

A little gasp of impatience. ‘I have more important things on my mind than Gildersleeve’s five minutes of fame.’

‘He’s a lot more famous now he’s dead. No matter. We can check the date.’

‘Why would you need to?’

‘Because it wasn’t only a triumph for Gildersleeve. It was clearly a disaster for the person who was selling the drawing.’

Poke shrugged, not interested in someone else’s misfortune.

‘What would a new portrait of Chaucer have fetched?’ Diamond went on. ‘A six-figure sum? More? I don’t suppose Thomas Chaucer rates more than a few hundred — and I doubt if the National Portrait Gallery would want to buy it. All of which leaves us with a pissed-off seller and a possible motive for murder.’

‘That’s stretching it.’

‘Not at all. People can hold grudges for a long time, particularly if they don’t seem to be getting the breaks themselves.’

You could have guillotined a man with the look Diamond got from Poke.

Untroubled, the big detective added, ‘I expect an art dealer was involved. Was the owner’s name made public?’

Leaman said, ‘We can easily check the report now.’

‘On Dr. Poke’s computer? What a good idea.’

Back in Poke’s office, with Diamond at his side and Poke with hands on hips looking like the kid whose toys are being played with, Leaman downloaded a newspaper report from April 2004 in a matter of seconds:

‘ “Understandably disappointed” was on the tip of my tongue when I said “pissed off,” ’ Diamond said. ‘Sorry about that. With my language I doubt if I’d get the job as Chief Butler of England. Can you print it?’

Leaman did so without even asking Poke. ‘I don’t see it, guv.’

‘Don’t see what?’

‘How the client could blame Gildersleeve, who was just doing his job.’

‘You’d feel like kicking someone, wouldn’t you? Gildersleeve’s name is the only one here.’

Leaman stayed unconvinced. ‘It’s like blaming an expert witness in court.’

‘Suppose a few years later you discovered the same Professor Gildersleeve was dead set on buying another piece of Chaucer memorabilia. Wouldn’t it be sweet to hijack it from under his nose?’

He nodded. ‘I can see the appeal of that.’

‘What do you say, Dr. Poke?’ Diamond asked.

The lecturer was saying nothing.

Diamond pressed for an answer. ‘I was thinking you’d have an opinion, as someone forced to work with a colleague who was a pain in every way.’

‘That’s unfair,’ Poke said. ‘You shouldn’t stigmatise me for being honest. Most of the people at the funeral this morning would have agreed with me if they had any integrity. Have you finished with my computer now?’

‘I’d like to know who the disappointed client was,’ Diamond said. ‘Won’t the all-powerful computer tell us?’

Leaman said, ‘I doubt it, if he chose to be anonymous.’

‘The dealers would know. Can you get their phone number?’

He worked the keys again.

And again.

And again. ‘Looks like Matlock and Russell have gone out of business, guv. This is a directory of all the art dealers in the UK.’

‘I wonder if the National Portrait Gallery know the name.’

‘I can get a contact number for them.’

The speed of the computer gives the impression that information is always instantly on tap. Twenty minutes on the phone with various individuals at the gallery was a salutary corrective. Finally everyone was forced to conclude that anonymous meant anonymous and even if some trusted high-up had known the name at the time, no record or memory of it had survived.

‘I’ll think of a way of winkling it out,’ Diamond said.

‘He probably will,’ Leaman said to Poke. ‘That’s one of his strengths, winkling things out.’

Poke seemed unwilling to be impressed.

Before leaving the campus, Diamond wanted to winkle out something else. He called at the registrar’s office and asked if they kept records of students who were sent down. They referred him to the alumni office, who talked about data protection until he said who he was and that he was investigating the shooting of one of their own professors. They agreed to allow him access but said it would involve making a special search of files that hadn’t been computerised. The archives were stored in another part of the university known as the Old Red Building. He said he would make the check himself if someone would show him where the records were.

His persistence paid off. One of the staff was freed to help him make a physical search. They drove down to the Old Red Building, where he learned that no file existed of excluded students. The only way of finding the names was to compare the records of thousands of enrolled students with the lists — almost as many — of thousands who had gone on to complete their degrees. Anyone who didn’t feature in both lists could be assumed to have dropped out. However, the dropouts would include students who had left the university voluntarily, transferred to other universities, failed the first year exams, or became too ill to continue, or died.

‘This could take days,’ he said. ‘All I want is the name of one bad egg sent down by the dean for dealing in drugs.’

Leaman came to the rescue. ‘Can’t we narrow it down?’

‘Good thinking. They were studying English and History.’

‘In the session two-thousand to two-thousand and one,’ Leaman added.

The task was still daunting, but more manageable. The helpful admin officer said she thought she could compile a list of all the dropouts by next day.

Diamond told her she was a star.

Outside the Old Red Building, Leaman said, picking his words with tact, ‘Are you thinking someone held a grievance all these years and hired professional hitmen to kill Gildersleeve? To me, it doesn’t seem likely.’

‘Me neither,’ Diamond said. ‘It’s a loose end I wanted tidied up.’

‘Well. I hope that woman doesn’t lose much sleep over it.’

On the drive home through Reading at the rush hour, he kept making audible intakes of breath.

‘You all right, guv?’ Leaman asked.

‘I wish you wouldn’t drive so close to the car in front, that’s all,’ he said. ‘This isn’t the Defender, it’s a little old Honda with bodywork that buckles on impact.’

‘It’s my car.’

‘It’s my body you have in the passenger seat.’

‘We’re crawling.’

‘Try creeping.’

As they approached the motorway on the A33 everything came to a complete stop.

‘What’s up now?’ Diamond said.

‘Someone up there heard your prayer.’

‘That’s a first, then.’

‘Do you feel more comfortable now?’

‘Don’t get snarky with me.’ He took out his phone.

‘Are you going to check what’s happened?’

He nodded. But it wasn’t the traffic hold-up he was checking. He got through once more to Bristol and asked if there was news from the search in Leigh Woods. Nothing had been reported. Neither had there been a sighting of Nathan’s two limos.

‘Are we checking the CCTV footage at the suspension bridge?’ he said into the phone.

They were, and it was still going on.

‘I want to be informed as soon asБ’

The line went dead. He didn’t like to think they might have cut him off deliberately.

Leaman found the local radio station and learned that the westbound section between junctions 11 and 12 had been closed because of an accident and was unlikely to be opened again for two hours.

Ahead, cars were making U-turns. Leaman checked his mirror and started to do the same.

‘Where are we heading now?’ Diamond asked.

‘Back through the town to find the back way to the next junction.’

To keep his mind off the driving, he tried to think of the positives from the funeral. Basically, he’d got what he came for, the interviews with Monica Gildersleeve and Archie Poke. And there was an intriguing new lead to pursue. Who was the anonymous seller of the Chaucer portrait who had missed out on a fortune when John Gildersleeve gave his expert opinion?