The Secret Hangman pd-9

by Peter Lovesey

  ‘Nobody told me about a photograph,’ Diamond said.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure I told Miss Assisi. We definitely need some shots. It was made very clear.’

  ‘I don’t know a Miss Assisi.’

  ‘If I were you, I’d make a point of getting to know her,’ Fetherington-Steel said. ‘She makes the decisions at the police station. Ah, here he is, camera at the ready. It’s quite painless, officer. Relax and give him a smile.’

  Diamond stiffened and gave him a scowl. ‘Sorry about this,’ he said to Paloma. ‘I’m not sure what it’s about, but I think I’ve been set up.’

  ‘Let me fix your tie. It’s coming loose.’ As she stepped close she said in an undertone, ‘A smile doesn’t cost anything, Pete.’

  If she had not been there, they wouldn’t have seen him for dust. He didn’t want another blighted evening, so he stood beside a pillar and submitted to the camera, even managing a twisted grin.

  ‘Much better. All done,’ Fetherington-Steel said, beckoning to the usher. ‘There’s champagne for you both in the interval. The patrons’ room.’

  Their seats were the best in the house, in the centre of the front row of the lower circle. No time to talk. The curtain went up at once, as if the entire production had been waiting for them. Pity the poor players because Diamond took in very little of what was happening on stage. His mind was on what had just happened and might yet happen.

  ‘Isn’t it gripping?’ Paloma said when the interval lights came up. ‘I’m hooked. Is he behaving like a real inspector?’

  ‘Shall we skip the champagne with the patrons and have our own later?’ he said. ‘If we move out in the other direction we can give the tall man the slip.’

  ‘You’re wicked.’

  They went downstairs and bought drinks in the crush bar and took in some fresh air by one of the exit doors. ‘What was that all about when we arrived?’ he said.

  ‘The photography? It’s just a publicity stunt, I imagine,’ Paloma said. ‘They want to get something in the Chronicle about a real inspector calling. No harm in it, is there?’

  ‘Someone at the nick should have warned me.’

  ‘That would have spoilt their fun.’

  She was right. He remembered showing the tickets to Leaman. The bastard hadn’t let on. They were all in on it, no doubt.

  ‘I’m trying to think who Miss Assisi is,’ he said. ‘I can’t place her. She’s the one he spoke to.’

  ‘I’d leave it if I were you. Think what you’re going to say about the play.’

  He swallowed hard. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They’ve got your picture. They’ll want a decent quote to go under it.’

  ‘The newspaper?’

  ‘There’s sure to be a reporter waiting for you when we come out and I don’t think we should turn our backs on them. Don’t upset the press. You never know when you might need them.’

  Wise words, but now he had a moment of panic. ‘I haven’t been giving a lot of thought to the play.’

  ‘It’s still unfolding, isn’t it? This inspector is investigating a poor girl’s suicide, or so it appears, and nearly all the characters seemed to contribute in some way. You might want to say that real crimes have to pin the blame on one individual, but here the guilt is spread more widely.’

  ‘That sounds good. Could you write it down?’

  ‘Better if you put it in your own words. Mind, I have a feeling that the whole play could swing around in the second half.’

  ‘I’m not sure if I’m up to this.’

  ‘You are. Think of your workmates in the police opening their papers and finding you carried it off like a professional critic. A couple of sentences will do it. You’ll have the last laugh.’

  He watched the second half as if his career depended on it, paying close attention to Inspector Goole and his domineering presence. There were procedural details that grated, but of course the play was written more than sixty years ago and referred back to a much earlier period, before the first world war. Who knows whether detectives worked alone or in pairs in those days? Anyway, as the tension built and the inspector’s questioning increasingly took a moral tone it became clear that Paloma’s ‘or so it appears’ was a crucial insight. Everything was not as it appeared. This inspector was acting more like a judge than a policeman.

  The last line of the play confirmed that something very weird had been going on. The Bath police theatre critic wasn’t sure how to take it, or if it could be explained, or needed to be. Probably not. The story was satisfying in a bigger sense.

  ‘Clever,’ he said to Paloma over the applause.

  ‘Terrific,’ she said. ‘Have you thought of what to say?’

  ‘I’m trying.’

  ‘That inspector’s an enigma.’

  ‘I can use that.’

  As they came down the steps to the foyer, Fetherington-Steel was at the side, waving. He had a young woman beside him, notebook at the ready. As soon as the introductions were over and she was about to start on her questions, Diamond said, ‘I’ll have to be brief because we have a table booked at Woods, but you don’t need much, do you? A fascinating play, brilliantly done. Inspector Goole wouldn’t last long in the modern police, but then he isn’t modern and he isn’t a policeman. He’s an inspector in a different sense.’

  ‘What?’ the reporter said. ‘Inspecting the corruption of a society that puts profit and self-interest at the top of its priorities?’

  ‘You took the words out of my mouth. He’s a wily old fox, but if he was in my squad, I’d keep him in the back room. Will that do?’

  ‘Couldn’t be better,’ she said. ‘I’ll just get your name and make sure I spell it right.’

  In Woods, Paloma said, ‘You socked it to them. You were great.’

  ‘I forgot to mention the enigma bit.’

  ‘You didn’t need to. You said it in your own words.’

  They ordered and the champagne was brought to the table and uncorked.

  ‘To the drama critic,’ Paloma said.

  ‘For one night only.’ They sipped, and he said, ‘It’s odd. Just now I’m investigating suicides in my real job. I go about it rather differently, though. A lot of background stuff, pathologists’ reports and so on.’

  ‘I expect you talk to the families like he did.’

  ‘Not exactly like he did, but yes. It’s part of the job. And the relatives aren’t always as you expect them to be. That’s one good thing about my life. I meet all sorts.’

  ‘I didn’t think suicides needed investigating.’

  ‘We have to make sure they weren’t homicides.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Sorry. Not the best topic for an evening out.’

  ‘I don’t mind that,’ she said. ‘I’m not squeamish. Police work interests me. I watch a lot of police series on television. It’s more exciting than historic costumes, though I do get excited when I find some illustrations I didn’t know existed.’

  ‘Where do you find them?’

  ‘In auctions sometimes. And second-hand bookshops. The ones I like are the really disorganised smelly old shops with cartons filled with stuff they haven’t even bothered to unpack and put a price on. We don’t have any left like that in Bath.’

  ‘No treasures, then?’

  ‘Hardly ever. But let’s not talk about work. Are you going to spend the night with me?’

  He wasn’t sure how he reacted except that his answer was slow in coming. He hoped he hadn’t gone slack-jawed or turned white.

  She’d surprised him totally. The possibility of sex was somewhere in his mind, but after the debacle in her garden he’d not been able to imagine how it would happen. Certainly he hadn’t expected it as a question over dinner. Finally all he could manage was, ‘Wow.’

  She smiled. ‘Can I take that as a yes?’

  ‘A strong yes.’

  ‘That’s all right, then. We can enjoy our meal without all the stress of wondering what will happen after we leave
the restaurant. Now let’s talk about something else. What’s the tie you’re wearing? It looks as if it represents something.’

  You had to be mentally agile to keep up with Paloma. He told her about his rugby playing until the starters were served. They talked sport for a while, and over the main course covered holidays abroad (she’d travelled widely) and motoring in Britain. They chose to miss the dessert. He settled the bill and the waiter phoned for their taxi.

  During the drive back, Paloma leaned towards him and nestled her head against his shoulder. ‘Did you bring your toothbrush?’

  ‘I wasn’t that confident,’ he said.

  She laughed. ‘I bought you one in Boots this morning.’

  In the house when the door was closed, she reached for him and they kissed, tentatively at first, and then as if they meant it.

  She picked up a remote control and there was music and they held each other like dancers, swaying rather than taking steps. They kissed again, several times. Then she made coffee and poured liqueurs, hers a creme de menthe, his a brandy.

  ‘A suggestion,’ she told him. ‘We’re not all that young and let’s face it, we’re not the perfect shape, either of us. Showering together might not be the turn-on we’d like it to be. I’m going upstairs presently. My bedroom is the last door on the left. There’s a shower for you in the room opposite if you want. Let’s meet in my bed with the light turned really low.’

  ‘You’ve twisted my arm,’ he said.

  22

  T here was no ‘How was it for you?’ The joy they both experienced was obvious. After the setbacks in their dating, it was a mercy that the sex went so well. For Diamond, nerves could have spoilt the occasion after three years of self-imposed celibacy. Paloma appeared to sense what was in his mind and coaxed him through with tact, affection and even a little humour. Afterwards they said nothing, held hands, murmured a little and slept.

  He woke to the sound of a phone.

  Assuming — as you do — that he was in his own bed, his first thought was that Georgina was on the line again and another hanging had been discovered. But when he reached for the phone it wasn’t there. The sound was coming from behind him and he realised where he was. Surely Bath nick hadn’t tracked him here?

  Paloma didn’t seem to have heard. Or maybe she hoped the caller would give up. Finally she said, ‘This early?’ and reached for it.

  Diamond lay still, unsure what to do, half expecting the call was for him.

  But she was listening with an intensity that told him this was someone whose voice she recognised at once. Difficult. You don’t listen to other people’s private calls. To have got out of bed and left the room didn’t seem appropriate either.

  Going by the concern in Paloma’s voice, it didn’t matter who was overhearing her. Someone was in trouble. ‘What’s up?’ she was saying. ‘There’s something wrong. I can hear it in your voice.’

  After a pause she said, ‘What — stolen, darling? Where was it?’

  The ‘darling’ confirmed that the call couldn’t be for him. But he didn’t relax. He sensed that this darling wasn’t a woman friend.

  ‘Have you reported it?’ she went on. ‘You’ve got to report it.’

  Now she was talking like a parent and he guessed she was speaking to her son, the fitness trainer.

  ‘Yes, of course, darling. You can’t manage without. Come and collect it. If I want one I can rent it… Yes… Oh, what a pain. Why do people do this kind of thing?… Yes, as soon as you like. I’m here.’ She put down the phone.

  ‘Your son?’ Diamond said.

  ‘Jerry, yes. Someone stole his car from Broad Street last night. Isn’t it appalling? He’s going to have to borrow mine. He can’t do his job without transport. He has to visit his clients in their homes.’

  ‘Do you want me to leave?’

  ‘Not at all. You’re better placed to advise him than I am.’

  He said, ‘I meant that you might not want Jerry to know I spent the night with you.’

  She laughed. ‘I’m not ashamed. Let him know his mother isn’t past all that.’

  So two lovers who could have been basking in the warmth of their intimacy were transformed into counsellors for a crime victim. They rose, showered and got ready. In the bathroom Diamond found not only the promised new toothbrush but a disposable razor and shaving cream.

  By the time Jerry arrived they were finishing breakfast — a light one of cereal, toast and coffee. Everyone tried to be cool.

  ‘You guys have met, of course,’ Paloma said.

  ‘Bad luck about the car,’ Diamond said.

  Jerry’s eyes had widened for one moment at the sight of Diamond at the breakfast table, but he responded warmly enough. ‘Thanks. I guess it’s a risk you run, parking on a city street at night — with a decent motor, anyway.’

  Diamond had never measured his success by the cars he owned, but he could sympathise with a young man who’d worked hard for his status symbol and still made time to do hospital work. ‘I noticed it on the drive when I was here before. A blue Nissan four-by-four, right?’

  ‘The Pathfinder. My pride and joy. Cost me thirty grand, with some generous help from mother, bless her.’ He sighed. ‘What a waste. I haven’t had it five minutes.’

  ‘What time did it go missing?’

  ‘Late evening. I was eating with friends. I came back round about midnight.’

  ‘You reported it?’

  ‘Right away. Your people said it could be kids joyriding and it might be found abandoned somewhere.’

  ‘That’s a possibility. Did you call the station again this morning?’

  ‘Yep. They’ve heard nothing.’ He ran a distracted hand through his hair and gripped the back of his neck. ‘What if it isn’t kids? People steal cars and sell them on, don’t they?’

  ‘That could happen, too,’ Diamond said, thinking something else. This wasn’t the moment to mention that four-by-fours are the chosen vehicles for ram raids. ‘Do you know the chassis number?’

  ‘Got a note of it somewhere.’

  ‘Look it up and let us know. Car thefts are handled by someone else at the nick, but when I get in I’ll see if there’s anything I can find out. Sometimes you get reports of bad driving on the motorway and that can be joyriders.’

  Paloma said, ‘It’s a damned shame it gets called joyriding. Sounds like something glamorous when in reality it’s a shabby little crime and bloody dangerous as well.’

  Jerry drank some coffee and said he’d better leave. Paloma handed him her car keys. In the hallway, he called out, ‘Are these Agatha Christies for me?’

  ‘No,’ Diamond called back. ‘They’re for people in hospital.’

  ‘Appreciate it.’

  The door slammed.

  ‘He does, too. He’s very committed to this voluntary work,’ Paloma said to Diamond when they were alone again. ‘You never know what’s going to happen, do you?’

  ‘Could have been worse,’ he said. ‘He had the good sense not to call you last night.’

  She smiled. ‘We’d have really felt jinxed, wouldn’t we? Thanks for being patient with him. In a strange way I think this may do Jerry some good, having something go wrong. We all need challenges.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s me being overconcerned, I expect. I wish he’d get a proper job, a career, I mean.’

  ‘What’s a proper job? The civil service? They get laid off in thousands by each new government. Jerry went through college for what he’s doing. And he must have worked damned hard to get clients and keep them. If I’m any judge, he’s got life worked out. And all those evenings at the hospital show he has a social conscience.’

  ‘He has that all right. Church every Sunday, which is more than I manage.’

  ‘So will he disapprove of me being here?’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ve disappointed him plenty of times and we’re still talking.’ She put her hand to her mouth and gave a nervous laugh. ‘Oh, dear,
that sounds as if I’ve had a string of lovers and I didn’t mean that. I disappoint Jerry in other ways like spending too much on clothes. He gives me the occasional text to think about. “Consider the lilies of the field…” et cetera. It’s a hoot, isn’t it, getting told how to behave by your son?’

  ‘’Specially if you carry on in your own sweet way.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  He looked at the time. ‘I’d better report in. They haven’t been able to reach me since yesterday.’

  ‘Don’t you carry a mobile?’

  ‘Me?’ He just laughed.

  ‘What’s funny about that?’

  ‘I’m out of the age of the dinosaurs.’

  ‘But you’re a senior policeman.’

  ‘Yeah. Superintendent Flintstone.’

  ‘You ought to overcome that. They’re really useful. Essential almost.’

  ‘I can’t disagree with you after all that’s happened, but they strike me as the end of civilisation as I know it, all those idiots walking along the street with their hands to their ears broadcasting to all and sundry.’

  ‘Peter, that’s not the point. Mobiles have their advantages.’

  ‘I haven’t discovered any yet.’

  ‘Like being in contact.’

  ‘I don’t always want to be in contact. Last night I didn’t want to be in contact. When your phone went this morning I was bricking it in case my colleagues had traced me to your house.’

  ‘They hadn’t.’

  He nodded and smiled. ‘That’s why I don’t use a mobile.’

  ‘You don’t see it, do you?’ she said with amusement. ‘When someone calls you on a mobile they don’t know where you are. If you want to stay over with me another time — as I hope you will — you can make calls and take calls and they’ll assume you’re speaking from home. For a man with a complicated private life it’s the indispensable aid.’

  The man with a complicated private life cradled his chin as if deep in thought. ‘There’s a flaw somewhere, but you’re very persuasive. And I had better go into work. They’ll be cockahoop to find out how I got on at the theatre.’