The Last Detective

by Peter Lovesey

  However, there was a more persuasive scenario. Andy Coventry had clearly been Geraldine Jackman's supplier. He'd kept her in cocaine and systematically emptied her bank account. Fine, until her funds ran out. She had been heavily overdrawn at the bank. He must have watched her become increasingly desperate, knowing that ultimately there would be no point in offering the stuff to someone who couldn't pay. Maybe he'd told her the arrangement was at an end. Then - the scenario ran - Geraldine had got in touch again. She'd offered something of value in exchange for drugs. Coventry had gone to the house, and she had shown him the Jane Austen letters she had pilfered from her husband.

  Coventry must have been unimpressed. He would have foreseen the problems in turning the letters into cash. The discussion had turned ugly. Gerry, in one of her towering rages, had threatened to expose him as a pusher, and the hell with the consequences for herself, because without cocaine her life was closing down anyway. Andy Coventry, driven desperate, had silenced her for ever.

  Through the months since then, the man must have lived in dread of the truth emerging. When he became aware in the Baths that someone had been watching him stow away drugs, he had panicked. He had killed once to stop someone blowing the whistle on his dealing, so why not a second time?

  Towards the end of the week Gregory Jackman came to the hospital on a visit. Hollow-eyed and drooping at the shoulders, he looked ten years older than when Diamond had seen him last. 'The drug story has broken,' he explained. 'They came to the house - Chief Inspector Wigfull and some people from the drugs squad - and I showed them the bags of flour. Today it's all over the tabloids. Drugs Find in Profs House. Dead Woman's Cocaine Habit. The top brass in the university don't like it one bit. I've been told to take a year's sabbatical directly the trial is over.

  'Told? Do they have the right?'

  'Asked, then. They're being as decent as they can. I'll get a year's salary, but the understanding is that I'll go to America on a research fellowship, and while I'm there I'll apply for other posts.'

  'Welcome to the club,' said Diamond.

  'What?'

  'It's the old heave-ho. Will you go?'

  'Try and stop me.'

  'Can it really be as quick as you say?'

  'Thanks to the wonders of fax, yes. The only thing to be settled is the day I fly out. I've been called as a witness, naturally.'

  'Presumably a prosecution witness.'

  'Yes. It's a warrant. I've talked to Dana's lawyers. I don't seem to have a choice in the matter. It's the way they want to play it, apparently.'

  Diamond explained the strategy. 'These days the forensic evidence is often so cut and dried that you don't call defence experts to challenge it. If the defence calls no witnesses except Dana, they'll have the right to make the final speech to the jury before the judge sums up.'

  Jackman said bleakly, 'I just hope they've talked to Dana about this. God knows what she's going to make of me appearing for the prosecution.'

  'She still intends to plead not guilty, does she?'

  Jackman tilted his head, surprised by the question. 'Certainly. Is there any reason why she shouldn't?'

  'I don't know. Wigfull was here a day or two ago, looking as smug as a winning jockey. He's sure they'll convict.'

  'So I gathered.'

  'Nothing has altered, then?'

  Jackman said gloomily, 'It looks as hopeless as ever. I thought perhaps what happened to you would help the defence by pointing to Andy Coventry as an alternative suspect.'

  'Well, doesn't it?'

  He shook his head. 'Her lawyers don't want to go down that road.'

  'Why not, for God's sake?'

  'They say it doesn't address the crucial points that the prosecution will raise - the fact that Dana admits she was at the house on the morning of the murder, and the evidence that her car was used to transport the body to Chew Valley Lake. That forensic report is dynamite. She has no answer to it. And that leaves out all the circumstantial stuff about motive. A good prosecutor will have her on toast.'

  Privately, Diamond had to admit that the lawyers were right.

  By Friday he felt sufficiently recovered to phone Siddons the solicitor and ask whether the defence team were fully aware of Andy Coventry's involvement in the case.

  'Absolutely,' Siddons assured him. 'The drugs bring another dimension to it. Mrs Jackman's outbursts obviously had their origin in her cocaine habit.'

  'Yes, but have you considered the possibility that Coventry killed her?' He outlined his theory.

  From the tone of Siddons' responses - the polite, yet qualified murmurs that came down the phone each time Diamond paused - it was clear that the solicitor wasn't exactly turning cartwheels of joy at the other end. He thanked Diamond mildly for his interest and said, 'Unfortunately for us, your theory isn't tenable. Coventry was questioned by the police about his movements at the time of the murder, and he was three hundred miles away, in Newcastle. For the entire week. They checked it. He was lecturing to an Open University course at Hadrian's Wall. It's a cast-iron alibi. Infuriating, isn't it?'

  Chapter Two

  DEPRESSING AS IT WAS, THE doctors were right. Peter Diamond was still in hospital when Dana Didrikson's trial for murder opened at Bristol Crown Court. True, he'd reached a stage of convalescence when he was no longer considered enough of an emergency to justify occupying a room of his own near the sister's office; instead, he'd been moved into a six-bedded ward near the stairs that was, in effect, a poker school. The inmates were all concussion cases restored to sufficient consciousness to tell a sequence from a flush. Their slick play was a testimony to the nursing. Diamond had never been much of a card-player, so after a few hands to demonstrate goodwill he had escaped to the day room and the morning papers.

  There was not much call in the RUH for the quality newspapers, according to the newsagent who supplied the wards. Diamond's information about the first day of the trial had to be drawn from the tabloids. Among the glamour shots of Gerry Snoo and banner headlines of the ANGRY GERRY'S LAST HOURS variety were meagre accounts of the court proceedings. Diamond managed to glean that Dana had pleaded not guilty and a jury of eight men and four women had been empanelled. Prosecuting counsel, Sir Job Mogg, QC - known in and out of the courts as 'Claws' - had opened the prosecution's case with his outline of the events leading up to the charge of murder. Reference was made to the accident at Pulteney Weir that had brought Dana Didrikson into the ambit of the Jack-mans. She was portrayed as a single parent - DESPERATE DANA, in one paper - struggling to bring up a son and stretched to pay his school fees. Jackman's fatherly acts of kindness to the boy in the summer months were seen as the seed of a motive - LONE MUM'S LOVE PLOT- nurtured by Dana's discovery that the Jackman marriage was in crisis. The lengths to which she had gone to obtain the Jane Austen letters as a gift for Jackman were stressed as significant, and so was the acrimonious visit of Mrs Jackman to her home - GERRY'S MAN-STEALER FURY. It was pointed out that Dana had admitted visiting the Jackman house on the morning of the murder when she'd heard that the letters were missing. Motive and opportunity were thus spelt out to the readers at least as vividly as they had been to the jury.

  The papers all insisted that recent developments in forensic science would dominate the case. The Crown would be calling experts in DNA analysis - genetic fingerprinting -to prove that the body had been placed in the boot of Dana's car prior to its being recovered from Chew Valley Lake. She had sworn a statement that the car had never been driven by anyone but herself. And she had been unable to explain the disappearance of the mileage log.

  Thus outlined, the prosecution case appeared formidable. So, also, did the hostility of the tabloids towards Dana. Diamond had long ago ceased to believe in unbiased reporting. But he did feel embittered by two feature articles eulogizing genetic fingerprinting as the infallible method of detection. No direct reference to the Jackman case was made, but when an editor chose to publish such a piece on the day a major trial opened, the inference wa
s clear. One paper had a centrespread of forty mugshots of murderers and rapists trapped by the DNA test in the past two years.

  The old antagonism stirred again. He'd thought he had got it out of his system when he'd quit the police. Yet here he was bridling at the assumption that science had taken over completely from the detectives.

  He heard a sound behind him and saw a staff nurse and probationer approaching with a trolley.

  'How is my Mr Diamond this morning?'

  'Just about coming to his senses,' he answered. He'd given up trying to speak normally to this Nightingale who reduced every exchange to the level of the children's ward.

  'Ready to have his dressing changed ?'

  'Indeed. And if staff could arrange to make it a little flatter to the head - a litde less obtrusive, shall we say? -Mr Diamond would be mightily obliged.'

  'Why? Going to the pictures, are we? Or a football match?'

  There was a supportive giggle from the probationer.

  Diamond said, 'A murder 'What are you saying?'

  'That your Mr Diamond will shortly be leaving you. Discharging himself.'

  A shocked silence was followed by, 'We'll see what Sister has to say about that.'

  'Fair enough. And when she's said it, Mr Diamond will thank Sister sincerely for her tender, loving care and bid her good day.'

  By 11.30 he was sitting in the public gallery in Bristol Crown Court listening to Dr Jack Merlin giving evidence. The pathologist was being as cautious as ever, declining to name a cause of death. Pressed by the prosecution to comment on asphyxiation as a likely cause, he would say only that it was not inconsistent with the findings. The main thrust of the forensic screening that had followed the autopsy had been towards toxicology to determine whether drugs or alcohol had been present. The screening tests carried out by the Home Office forensic laboratory had proved negative. Under cross-examination, Merlin admitted that there was a threshold point for analytical suitability, and that samples from a corpse submerged in water for more than a week might not yield significant traces. However, he believed it was unlikely that death had been caused by a toxic substance.

  Merlin was followed in the witness box by another forensic scientist, called Partington, who spoke somewhat long-windedly about fibres found in the bedroom at John Bry-don House. Peter Diamond's attention moved elsewhere.

  Dana Didrikson, dressed in a dark green suit, listened from the dock, her hands clasped in her lap. She had her brown hair pinned back severely, perhaps to discourage the suggestion that she was a husband-stealer. She wore no make-up. Image was an important consideration, and her solicitor would have advised her to dress demurely. It appeared to Diamond that the months in the remand centre had marked her. She'd put on weight - not much, but enough to give her face a decidedly mumpish look that combined with her sagging posture to suggest that she was already resigned to a long prison sentence.

  'The colour was distinctive?' Sir Job Mogg was saying to his witness.

  'Certainly,' the scientist responded. 'A shade of dark red or maroon achieved by dyeing the garment with some home dye. We matched it with samples taken from a lambswool jumper found in the defendant's home.'

  The judge - a world-weary Welshman - intervened. 'Sir Job, unquenchable as my interest is in the findings of the forensic science laboratory, I should like to know where this line of questioning is taking us.'

  'My lord, the Crown is seeking to establish that the defendant was present and wearing the garment in the bedroom where the murder took place. Taken together with the hair samples and the skin tissues also found in the bedroom, and subjected to DNA analysis, the evidence is fundamental to the prosecution case.'

  'The evidence of what?' persisted the judge. 'My understanding is that several weeks passed before the house was searched. We cannot safely conclude that these fibres and tissues were deposited on the day Mrs Jackman was murdered. Suppose the defendant visited the house some day after 11 September?'

  'In that case, my lord, with the greatest respect, it would be highly relevant to inquire what the defendant was doing in Professor Jackman's bedroom some day after 11 September, or - one might conjecture - some night.'

  There was some subdued amusement at this and defence counsel was on her feet. 'My lord, I must object.'

  'Sit down,' said the judge. 'That remark was unworthy of you, Sir Job.'

  'I withdraw it unreservedly, m'lord, and apologize to the court.' Smoothly, Sir Job added, 'We now pass on to the matter of the Mercedes car driven by the defendant. Did you examine the car, Mr Partington?'

  'I did. On 11 October. I removed samples of skin and hair from the boot of the vehicle and subjected them to DNA analysis.'

  'For the benefit of the court, would you now explain the signficance of such a test? This is what is commonly known as genetic fingerprinting, is it not?'

  'Yes. It is a way of producing genetic profiles of individuals which are unique in each case except for identical twins. The genetic material known as DNA can be extracted from samples of blood, skin, semen or hair-roots and separated into strands. Chemicals known as restriction enzymes are used to chop the strands into unequal pieces which are sorted on a piece of gelatine by a process known as electrophoresis. We then tag the bits with radioactive probes and expose them to X-ray film to produce a series of black bands not unlike the bar codes used in supermarket checkouts.' not unlike the bar codes used in supermarket 'Every one unique to the individual?'

  'Every one unique to the individual?'

  'Exactly. So that comparisons can be made with certainty.'

  'And you produced genetic profiles of the traces of hair and skin found in the boot of the Mercedes car driven by the defendant?'

  'Yes.'

  'With what result?'

  'They matched the samples taken from the victim.'

  'Matched them absolutely?'

  'In every respect.'

  There was a pause in the proceedings while comparative photographs of the results were passed around the jury.

  'Is there anything else you can tell the court about the skin and hair found in the car?'

  'We found four hairs altogether, all matching the victim's DNA profile. Three were from the pubic region, suggesting that at some stage the body in the boot was unclothed.'

  'And the skin particles. How many did you find?'

  'Twenty-three.'

  'So many. Is that indicative of anything?'

  'It suggests to me that the body was dragged across the lining of the boot, causing some scaling. There may also have been some movement when the car was driven.'

  'Summing up, then, Dr Partington, you are quite certain in your mind that the body of Mrs jackman was conveyed somewhere in the boot of the defendant's car?'

  'Entirely certain.'

  'Thank you.'

  Dana's defence counsel rose to cross-examine the witness. She was Lilian Bargainer, QC, a doughty, silver-haired advocate, ample in voice and girth. Diamond had been cross-examined by her on one occasion. The defence was in capable hands.

  'Dr Partington, there is just one thing I would like to have clear. Is it possible, is it conceivable, that the skin and hair samples you took from the boot of the car could have been introduced there?'

  'What exactly do you mean?' Partington knew very well what she meant. It was a defence red herring, dangled in front of the jury in case they were influenced by stories of police corruption.

  'If some person of malicious intent wished to convey the impression that the car had been used to transport the body somewhere, might he or she have misled you by planting some skin and hair samples in the boot?'

  Dr Partington was categorical. 'No. The appearance and positioning of the skin samples was entirely consistent with a body having lain there and been lifted in and out. They adhered to and mingled with the fibres of the inner lining entirely as one would expect. In my opinion, it would not be possible to reproduce this effect artificially.'

  'Thank you.'

&n
bsp; The court adjourned for lunch.

  In the corridor outside, Diamond spotted Jackman briefly, but he was in conversation with a lawyer, possibly the solicitor, and it seemed inopportune to approach them. So it was a solitary lunch in the pub across the road, where the head-bandage attracted wary looks from other customers.

  He next saw Jackman in the witness box. The people in front, in the first row of the public gallery, craned for a better view. In the dock, Dana Didrikson lowered her eyes as if taking an interest in the state of her fingernails. Her expression remained placid, but she couldn't do anything about a nervous twitch in a muscle close to her jawbone.

  After Jackman had taken the oath, he was steered gently by Sir Job into the account of his marriage that he had given in his statement to Diamond many weeks ago. To his credit, he adhered closely to the original, admitting the imperfections in his relationship to Geraldine, the steady increase in arguments and accusations. Some of it was going to make juicy reading in tomorrow's papers, in particular the night Geraldine had set fire to the summerhouse.

  'You were convinced that your wife intended to kill you?'

  'Yes.'

  'Yet you chose not to report the incident to the police.

  'That is correct. She was mentally unstable, or so it appeared at the time. As I now know, she —'

  Sir Job cut in sharply, 'We're dealing with matters as you understood them at the time, Professor. Would you tell the court whether you had met the defendant, Mrs Didrikson, prior to the fire in the summerhouse.'

  'I saw her that evening, yes.'

  'Where precisely? At your house?'

  'She came to the house. I met her outside, in the road.'

  'Why was that? Didn't you want her at the party for some reason?'

  'It wasn't appropriate. She hadn't come for a. social evening. She came to clear up a misunderstanding.'

  'So you cleared it up in the road?'