Peter Diamond - 09 - The Secret Hangman (27 page)

Diamond’s shoulders twitched in a reflex action. How could this be true?

44

H
e recalled the heart-to-heart he’d had with Halliwell – blurting out his feelings about Paloma – on the drive back from the Ballance Street flat. My big mouth, he thought. This silly story about the ram raid could have been dealt with routinely, Jerry interviewed and cleared without anyone finding out who was dating his mother. Instead Halliwell feels in honour bound to tell me about it and I’m in honour bound for Paloma’s sake to deal with it myself. What will that do for our relationship?

Halliwell was backtracking fast. ‘Guv, I don’t believe Jackman. He’s giving us this bullshit to shift the blame.’

‘How does he know about the burned-out Pathfinder?’

‘He’s in the car-repair business. Spare parts. They can spot a dead one like vultures.’

‘Why would he make this up?’

‘He’s between a rock and hard place. He’s going to get hammered by the ram-raiders if he gives evidence against them, yet he owes us something for the fiasco the other night.’

‘So he fingers Jerry Kean, who has sod all to do with it? If that’s so, he’s an idiot. We check it out and find he’s lying. He’s worse off than before.’

‘Do you want to talk to him?’

‘Jackman? No, I don’t.’

‘Do we follow this up, or not? ‘ Diamond sighed, weighing the options. Absurd as the allegation was, it would have to be investigated. He looked at the time. ‘Leave this with me. I’ll get the truth of it.’

‘But you’re wanted here. The hangings.’

‘I said I’ll do it.’ He walked away, leaving Halliwell staring after him.

Time was bearing down, but the questioning of Dalton Monnington had come to a temporary halt. How long did it take to get over a hyperventilation attack? Twenty minutes? Half an hour? Or longer?

The other main suspect, Harry Lang, was still semiconscious.

If there was a right time to see Jerry Kean, it was now. He took out his new mobile and called the only number in the directory.

Paloma’s voice lifted his spirits, for all the awkwardness he felt. ‘Hello.’

‘This is Peter.’

‘Peter? How nice.’

He was tempted to say not nice, not nice at all. Instead he asked if she knew where Jerry was.

‘Right here with me.’

That simplified matters. ‘In your home?’

‘Sainsbury’s, as it happens, late-night shopping. Where it all started, really. Do you want to speak to him?’

‘I’d rather see him in person. It’s sort of . . . delicate.’

‘Where are you? Still at work? You’re overdoing it.’

‘You caught me on a bad day.’

‘You’d better speak to Jerry. I’m handing this across.’

Jerry’s voice asked what the problem was.

‘It’s to do with your stolen Pathfinder. I need to clarify a couple of things with you.’

‘How can I help?’ Jerry said in such a civil tone that Diamond was tempted to deal with the matter over the phone.

But when the call ended, Jerry would be annoyed he’d come under suspicion. He’d sound off to Paloma and she’d be hurt, as any parent would. Better, surely, to deal with it face to face. ‘What are your plans for the next twenty minutes?’

‘Back home to unload the shopping.’

‘Paloma’s?’

‘Mine first. Her car is at my place.’

‘I’ll see you there? It won’t take long. Where exactly do you live?’

He told Leaman he would be out of the building for the next half-hour. ‘Time out for all concerned,’ he said with a weary smile that left Leaman in no doubt that his boss was as much in need of a break as the hyperventilating suspect.

*

Jerry’s flat was in Cavendish Mansions, a converted hotel in Laura Place, just across Pulteney Bridge. No doubt Paloma’s money helped him live at a smart address, just as she subsidised his cars. This young man had no need to get involved in criminality, Diamond told himself. The ram-raid charge just didn’t stick.

They were ahead of him after he’d parked the car, carrying bags of shopping into the building. He stepped out and caught up with them in the entrance hall. Jerry was collecting his post from the pigeon-hole system near the lift. Paloma turned and kissed Diamond. He was aware how tense and tight his lips had become. He was shaking a little. This interview would be about as stressful as any he’d done.

He took over Paloma’s bag of shopping. Strictly, it was Jerry’s shopping. No doubt of that, because it was one of those Hosannah totebags. All the shopping was bagged like that. He had no use for Sainsbury’s carriers. The ecology was safe with Jerry.

‘We did a joint shop,’ Paloma said. ‘My stuff is still in the car. At least, I think it is. I hope Jerry hasn’t got my wine.’

‘Mother, if I have, you know it’s safe with me,’ Jerry said as he joined them.

‘“Eat, drink and be merry,”’ she said, winking at Diamond.

‘That’s somewhere in the good book, isn’t it?’

‘And you know how it goes on?’ Jerry said.

‘Never get into a quoting contest with my son,’ she said to Diamond.

‘All I can quote is the official caution,’ he said, ‘and I try not to do it among friends.’

Jerry let them into his flat. The first impression was that it could do with some lighter wallpaper. The heavy maroon in the hall set off a couple of pictures to nice effect, but only after the lights over them were switched on. They were views of cathedrals. That figures, Diamond thought. They wouldn’t be reclining nudes.

The kitchen where they took the bags looked as if no one used it. Every surface was clean and uncluttered.

‘Put your frozen stuff away and then Peter can ask you his questions,’ Paloma said. ‘He’s still working, unlike you and me.’

‘Listening to you,’ Jerry said, ‘anyone would think I was still about nine years old.’

‘Darling, you are, to me,’ Paloma said, winking at Diamond.

The fridge-freezer, when opened, was a miracle of arrangement, everything sized and sorted. The newly purchased items went into slots that were the only possible places for them.

‘Cup of tea?’ Paloma said.

Diamond said he hadn’t time, so they went into the living room and sat on padded upright chairs with ornate wooden backs. There was a piano, and it was easy to imagine a Victorian musical evening here, with polite guests watching the chiming clock on the mantelshelf and wishing the chairs were more comfortable. A bookcase and sideboard completed the furniture. The books were of the sort those Victorians would have called ‘improving’ – biographies of Mother Teresa and Anne Frank shared the space with
Pilgrim’s Progress
and Golding’s
The Spire
. The CDs were mostly of church music. It takes all sorts, Diamond decided.

‘So is there some query about the love of my life?’ Jerry asked.

Diamond, his mind on higher thoughts, was thrown until Paloma said, ‘His Pathfinder.’

‘Got you.’ It was a rare moment of humour from Jerry.

‘My late lamented Pathfinder,’ Jerry said.

‘The night after you reported it missing a ram raid took place – a jeweller’s in Westgate Street.’

‘Westgate Street? I saw the shopfront all smashed in. Did my car do that?’

‘I’m asking you, Jerry.’

He vibrated his lips, more puzzled by the question than upset. ‘How would I know? I wasn’t at the wheel.’

‘Someone says you were. He was involved in the raid and says you planned the whole thing.’

Paloma said, ‘Peter, that’s crazy.’

Jerry shook his head slowly and curled his lip in disdain.

It was easy to understand how this was an affront to both of them. ‘That’s why I’m here,’ Diamond said, ‘to get Jerry’s side of the story. Where were you on Sunday night?’

‘Easy,’ Paloma said, folding her arms defiantly. ‘Evensong.’

‘Perhaps Jerry would like to speak for himself.’ This sounded like a put-down, and was. He’d have said it to anyone interrupting. But it pained him to see how Paloma turned pale and then shrank into herself.

‘She’s right,’ Jerry said. ‘I never miss evensong.’

‘But that’s early, isn’t it?’

‘True. It wasn’t me who mentioned it.’

Paloma was red-eyed, her mouth shut tight.

Diamond tried to focus. This was one of the toughest situations a policeman is ever faced with, questioning close friends about a serious crime, yet he had to press on. ‘So it doesn’t cover the time I’m interested in.’

Jerry was answering with confidence, as if he’d heard the questions already. ‘After the service several of us went for a fish-and-chip supper.’

‘Where?’

‘Spike’s, in Railway Street, just across the street from your police station.’

Diamond knew Spike’s. He’d taken many a warm packet home from there. ‘These were people from the church?’

‘The young crowd, anyway.’

‘What time did you leave?’

‘I suppose about nine thirty.’

‘The thing is,’ Diamond said with an effort to match the buoyant mood of Jerry’s answers, ‘the raid took place about one in the morning.’

‘That’s all right, then,’ Jerry said. ‘Virginia can vouch for me, if that’s all you need to know.’

There was a momentary break in the flow.

‘You have a girlfriend?’ Paloma said, recovering some of her sparkle.

‘No, mother. This was our Save the Sinner Group. We had a meeting at Virginia’s house in St James’s Square. There’s a mission month coming up and we have to plan it.’

Saving sinners was a far cry from ram-raiding if it was true.

‘What time did this meeting break up?’ Diamond asked.

‘Close to one in the morning. Why don’t you speak to Virginia?’ Before any more was said, Jerry took out his mobile and pressed a couple of keys. He held it to his ear. ‘Virginia? Jeremy. I’ve got a policeman here asking where I was after midnight last Sunday evening. You can tell him, can’t you?’ He handed the phone to Diamond.

The speaker at the other end sounded suspicious. ‘Is this a practical joke?’

‘No, Miss.’ Diamond told her who he was. ‘Jeremy tells me he was at your house. Is that correct?’

‘Let’s be crystal clear, officer,’ Virginia said, and the frost was tangible, ‘it wasn’t only Jeremy. Seven of us were here. And we were on the Lord’s business.’

‘And what time did you finish?’

‘At five past one. With a prayer.’

‘You’re certain of the time?’

‘Absolutely. It’s in my report of the meeting.’

‘And that’s written down somewhere?’

‘Jeremy has a copy of the minutes. I sent them out yesterday.’

‘Really? That’s all I need to know.’

‘The Lord be with you, then.’ The blessing came over as just a tad conditional, but no doubt sincerely meant.

‘Thanks.’ He returned the phone to Jerry. ‘She says you were sent a report of the meeting.’

‘Could be in the mail I just picked up,’ he said, reaching for the letters he’d placed on the piano. ‘Yes, this is one of her envelopes.’ He opened it and handed the folded sheet to Diamond to open.

The summary of the meeting began with the list of those present, including J. Kean, and ended with the words:
The meeting
ended at 1.05 a.m.

In his mind Diamond added the words
Thank the Lord
. ‘That clears it up, then.’

Jerry shrugged. ‘If I’d opened this first we needn’t have troubled her.’

‘Thanks, anyway.’

‘Who was it who tried to set me up?’ Jerry said.

‘You wouldn’t have heard of him. He’s a lowlife, desperate to shift the blame. He’s made it worse for himself.’

‘So it wasn’t one of those personal trainers you asked me about?’

‘No, someone else.’

Jerry frowned. He didn’t want to leave this. ‘How would he have heard of me?’

‘I’d rather not get into that.’

‘Be mysterious, then.’

Paloma said, ‘Peter’s got to be discreet, Jerry. He’s doing a sensitive job.’

Diamond gave her a grateful smile. Her loyalty had been under severe strain. It was remarkable that she was seeing things from his point of view. ‘And I’d better get back to that sensitive job, much as I’d like to stay on.’

Paloma said she was leaving, too.

Alone with Diamond, waiting for the lift, she said, ‘I was falling apart in there. For a bit I believed my son was about to be arrested.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘Perhaps I should have talked to him alone.’

‘He’s my own flesh and blood, and I know robbing shops would be against all his Christian principles so I shouldn’t have had any doubts. It’s hard to describe, being a mum. I’m so relieved that’s over.’

‘If it’s any help, I didn’t think he was mixed up in this. But I had to make sure.’

‘Of course. And Jerry – being Jerry – doesn’t make things easy. I love him as only a mother can, but even I can see he’s his own worst enemy.’

‘In what way?’

‘Self-righteous.’

‘It’s called the courage of his convictions.’

In the lift, she reached out to Diamond and kissed him. ‘I could tell how difficult that was for you. You’re a sweet man.’ As the doors opened, she squeezed his arm. ‘Spend the night with me.’

He felt a surge of happiness he hadn’t known for a long time. ‘It could be late, I mean really late.’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

45

O
nly now would Diamond admit to himself what pressure he’d been under. The relief was like the passing of a migraine attack, the moment it was safe to draw back the curtains. Jerry was in the clear. For a time common sense had been suspended. Suspicion had seeped through Diamond’s veins, creating pain and confusion. It hadn’t counted that Jerry had proved his good intentions day after day as a hospital volunteer, that he was a committed Christian who would baulk at breaking one of God’s clearest commandments. Bringing the young man in and exposing him as a criminal had become a real prospect. Paloma would have been devastated; the fragile relationship between them shattered.

He had just found out how much he valued that relationship.

Back at Manvers Street, he sought out Keith Halliwell and told him Jerry was not involved in the ram raid and explained why. ‘A church meeting, and I defy anyone to find a more wholesome alibi than that.’

‘At one in the morning?’

‘Young people are just waking up when you and I are ready for bed.’

‘Clubbers, maybe, but this was a church meeting, you say? What time did it start?’

‘Late. They went for a fish-and-chip supper first. I’ve seen the minutes and I know when it broke up.’

‘So it was minuted?’

‘All typed up nicely, praise the Lord, as they say.’

‘Gary Jackman lied to me, then. Scumbag,’ Halliwell said, angry he’d been strung along. ‘He’s messed up big time. We’ll nail him now.’

‘Later will do,’ Diamond said. ‘He’s a minnow. Where is he now? In the cells? Let him cool his heels for a bit.’

‘Guv, this is personal.’

‘I said leave it, Keith. Get your priorities right. Find out what’s going on at the hospital. If Harry Lang is able to talk, go up there and take a statement. The clever money’s on him.’

For all his strengths, Keith Halliwell sometimes got his focus wrong. He was capable of sorting out the ram raids now he was back on track.

But the bloody ram raids were a minor issue.

Diamond went looking for Leaman and found him in the incident room chatting earnestly with Ingeborg. ‘You’re back, guv,’ Leaman said, raising his voice for her benefit. Ingeborg hadn’t seen who had come in and could have said something she regretted. It was obvious they were discussing Diamond and he had a fair idea that it was about the bullying of a witness.

‘How’s Monnington?’

‘I left him with the doctor. He seemed to be recovering.’ Leaman signalled something problematic by clearing his throat. ‘He was complaining about the treatment.’

‘Oh? What did she do to him?’

Ingeborg stifled a giggle.

‘Not the doctor’s treatment,’ Leaman said.

A halo would not have looked out of place over Diamond’s head. ‘I barely touched him. There isn’t a mark on him.’

They knew better than to challenge him.

But Leaman had his own agenda. He said as if floating a theory, ‘No disrespect, guv, but do you think it would be an idea if I took over the questioning when we go back?’

Diamond could have erupted and almost did. Instead he reined back his annoyance, realising it would have confirmed that he was out of control. ‘And what would you ask him?’

‘Where he’s got Martin Steel.’

‘He’s stonewalling. You heard me try.’

‘Yes, but he has to understand he can’t bluff his way out of this. I can get through to him. I’m sure I can.’

‘With sweet reason?’

Leaman shrugged. ‘Something of the sort.’

‘Nice cop replaces nasty one, is that it?’

Now he turned crimson. ‘Nothing so crude as that.’

‘Give it to me straight, John. How will you handle this?’

In effect, he’d already conceded Leaman would take over the questioning. Something might be gained from sitting in as the observer.

Encouraged, Leaman said, ‘We’ve got a trump card now.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘Like you suggested, I went to the evidence room and collected the plastic cord used to hang Jocelyn Steel. It’s identical to the pieces you found in Monnington’s car. Same colour, same diameter.’

The nasty cop felt a flutter of excitement.

‘Did you look at the ends to see if it was cut from the same piece?’

‘You can’t tell with the naked eye. That’s a job for forensics. But I’ve measured them, and what we have are two lengths of cord, one at twenty-two feet, the other twenty-eight foot three, just about right to haul a body over a beam. The cord used on Mrs Steel was just over twenty-three.’

He rested a hand on Leaman’s shoulder. ‘OK, John. Give it your best.’

Monnington’s jaw dropped and his brown eyes opened wide when the two detectives returned to interview room one carrying evidence bags. What was he anticipating? Torture?

Leaman asked if he was feeling better. Monnington gave a shrug. Diamond checked the clock and spoke the preamble for the tape. Then nodded, and Leaman took over.

‘The reason we’re doing this is that a man’s life depends on it. No one has seen Martin Steel for three days. We think you can tell us where he is.’

The predictable shake of the head.

Leaman said in a measured voice, ‘The killing has to stop, Dalton. It’s over now. Time for you to think about your situation.’

He said, ‘I’ve thought. I want my solicitor.’

‘That can be arranged, and will. Cooperate now and we’ll all feel more agreeable.’

Silence.

‘I don’t think you appreciate how much we’ve got on you. Your laptop is being examined at this minute.’

This got the response. He sounded panicky. ‘You’d better not damage the files. I need them for business.’

‘You may not be in business much longer. We expect to find some names we recognise, like Martin and Jocelyn Steel.’

He tried to appear indifferent. ‘I don’t suppose they’re on file any more. I haven’t spoken to them for two years.’

‘But you got to know them quite well?’

‘I wouldn’t say so.’

‘Come on, Dalton, any half-decent salesman makes a relationship with his clients.’

His professional skills were in question and he was spurred into saying, ‘All I remember is that they fitted the profile of our customers. High-flyers, professional people, singles or couples, generally with no kids. They’re the ones most interested in spending money on leisure items for their homes.’

‘Did you ever come across a wealthy couple by the name of Twining, living out at Hinton Charterhouse?’

A shake of the head.

‘That’s in your area, isn’t it? We’re going back to 2004 now. It seems to me they were just the sort of people you would target.’

Monnington’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean – target?’

‘As potential customers. Like you say, well-heeled professional people living in a big house in the country.’

‘Never heard of them.’

‘They died the same way as Jocelyn Steel. And Delia Williamson and Danny Geaves. Strangled first, and then suspended as if they’d hanged themselves.’ Leaman let that sink in. He was handling this well. ‘The thing is, all these people were found in Bath. That’s one common factor. And another is this.’ He reached for the evidence bag and took out the coil of plastic cord. ‘White plastic cord used to string them up. Have a good look at it. This was used on Mrs Steel.’ He pushed it across the table. ‘For the tape, I’m now showing Mr Monnington the cord found attached to body five.’

Monnington swayed back in the chair.

‘Feel free to handle it,’ Leaman said. ‘It’s been forensically examined.’

Monnington made no move at all.

‘It’s identical to the two lengths of cord we found in your car.’

A look of panic passed across his features.

‘Same quality, colour, diameter. Even the length would be similar if we added the portion of cord we had to cut that was tight round the victim’s neck. About twenty-three feet, by my estimate. The lengths in your car’ – Leaman reached for the other evidence bags and slid them towards Monnington – ‘were twenty-two feet and twenty-eight foot three.’

The eyes still looked alarmed, but Monnington was making a huge effort to appear unaffected, deliberately ignoring the coils of plastic, fixing his gaze somewhere neutral between Leaman and Diamond.

Leaman persevered, determined to get a response. ‘It’s obvious they’re not tow-ropes. The plastic is strong enough to string up a corpse, but you couldn’t pull a car with it. It’s not long enough for a washing-line. Anyway, why would you want a washing-line in your car?’

Monnington remained silent.

Diamond stole a look at the clock. The cord was supposed to be the trump card and it was in danger of being ignored.

Leaman said, ‘If there’s an innocent explanation, you’d better tell us.’

After another uneasy pause, Monnington said, ‘Take them away from under my nose and I’ll tell you.’

The breakthrough? Diamond’s pulse beat faster.

Leaman leaned forward and scooped up the cords and bags and dropped them on the floor beside him. ‘Well?’

Monnington sniffed and said as if to a persistent child, ‘If you really want to know, I use them in my work.’

‘How?’

‘For demonstration purposes.’

‘Oh, yes?’ Leaman couldn’t have sounded more sceptical.

Monnington went on as if such details were too obvious to explain, ‘To mark out the shapes of the spa baths so that customers can visualise them. I lay them out in a circle, right? My company supplies two sizes of bath. One is seven feet in diameter, the other nine feet. If you do your maths, you’ll see that the twenty-two-foot cord is the circumference of the seven-foot bath. And the twenty-eight-foot-three cord is for the nine-foot bath. Twenty-two over seven is the approximate value of pi, the ratio between a diameter and a circumference.’

Leaman was drowning in a virtual jacuzzi.

Diamond took over. ‘Let’s get this right. You lay down the cord in the shape of a circle at the place where the bath will be installed?’

‘To show the client how much room it will take.’

‘And the cord is pre-cut to the two sizes?’

‘You could try it here, but you wouldn’t have room for a whirlpool, and why would you want one in an interview room?’

‘Take a wild guess,’ Diamond said.

Clive the computer expert was waiting when they emerged in their deflated state. Clive had better news, but it was short-lived. He’d cracked Monnington’s password and the files were accessible.

‘There’s masses of stuff about plumbing and water pressures and ceramic tiles.’

‘E-mails?’ Diamond said.

‘Not many. He’s a deleter.’

‘Is that bad?’

‘It doesn’t help you much.’

But the incident room was buzzing when he returned there with Leaman. A call had come in from Express Fit, a vehicle service centre on the Upper Bristol Road. The CAD room had received what they described as a garbled phone message about twenty minutes ago and the caller seemed to be in some distress.

‘He gave his name,’ Ingeborg said, ‘and the woman at the garage – she’s an office cleaner who picked up the phone – said it was very faint, but it sounded like Marcus Teal.’

‘Martin Steel?’

‘That’s what we’re thinking.’

‘He’s alive? What did he say?’

‘He kept repeating, “Help me.” She asked him to speak up and he couldn’t. She asked where he was and he said he didn’t know, except somewhere near Bath. She thought he said he was tied up and lying on the floor.’

‘This has got to be Steel. Has the call been traced?’

‘They’re trying. It’s not so simple.’

‘Why not? Did you tell them it’s life and death?’

‘It’s automated. Long-distance calls are logged, but local calls are not. They can’t retrieve them so easily. Something to do with the billing system. They’re doing all they can.’

‘Oh, great! Was there anything else he said? You got it all down?’

‘I spoke to the cleaner myself and went through it twice.’

‘Why would he call a garage?’

‘We’re thinking certain numbers were keyed into the phone and he managed to press the button that called Express Fit. If he’s tied up he may have touched the button with his foot.’

‘So we have a phone that is pre-set to call this garage. Could be private, or some office. We need a printout of all the Express Fit customers.’

‘I’ve asked for it. Someone is coming in specially. They’re closed, you see. He was lucky the cleaner picked up the phone.’

‘He needs more luck than that.’

He returned to his office and called Paloma on the mobile. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ll have to cancel tonight. Things are happening here.’

‘Good things?’ she said.

‘Not really. I can see myself spending the night here.’

‘Peter, that’s awful.’

‘Sorry.’

‘For you, I mean. You looked tired when I saw you. Couldn’t you call it a night and go back refreshed in the morning?’

‘No, there’s too much stuff going on.’

‘About those ram raids? It’s only property.’

‘No, the other thing.’

‘The hangings?’ She hesitated. ‘Has there been another one?’

‘Not yet, but there could be.’

‘Ghastly. What sort of monster . . . ? Forgive me, I’m not helping. Listen, I know you’ll say it’s a silly thing to do, but before I go up to bed I’m going to leave my front-door key under the mat just in case you do sort everything out. You can let yourself in at any time.’

‘That’s not a wise thing to do.’

‘That’s the policeman talking, not the man I know.’

‘Both.’

‘It’s a deal, then. Promise?’

‘Paloma, I can’t promise anything.’

But if he needed an extra incentive to finish the job he had one now.

*

Paloma was right. He was dog tired. He wished she hadn’t said it, because he felt more woolly-minded than ever. His brain was trying to pick up on something said during the questioning of Monnington, some detail that had been passed by. The harder he tried to grasp whatever it was, the more it eluded him.

‘I want to listen to the tape of that interview,’ he said to Leaman.

‘Rubbing my nose in it, guv?’

‘Not at all.’

‘I really thought we’d got him. I couldn’t see any other explanation for those bloody lengths of plastic.’