Bloodhounds

'So it didn't get reported.'

'Not until now. They're going to be furious with me for speaking out.'

Withholding information was apparently of trifling importance. Diamond let that pass for the present.

She continued, 'I've been agonizing over this ever since it happened. At the time I thought it didn't matter if it wasn't reported. It seemed so obviously dotty, the suggestion that Jessica would have harmed Sid. She really liked the poor man; felt sorry for him, anyway. She's told me that herself.'

'And have you changed your opinion?'

'Actually, I have.' She gave them the theory she'd worked out in bed the previous night, the conspiracy between Jessica and Sid that had gone wrong and resulted in Jessica murdering Sid. 'What do you think? Is it feasible?'

Diamond was too wily to say. 'What interests me right now is who shares your suspicion, who put the message on the window.'

'I can tell you,' Shirley-Ann said, and then clapped her hand over her mouth.

'You saw it happen?'

'No.' The flow of words stopped abruptly.

'But you know who was responsible, do you?'

She didn't answer.

Instead of a rebuke, she received the unexpected warmth of Diamond at his most charming. 'You've been very candid with us, Miss Miller, and I appreciate that. We'd never make progress at all without the help of honest people like you. If you know the identity of this person-' He stopped at the sound of someone entering the flat.

Shirley-Ann said, 'This has got to be Bert. He nips home before the evening session.'

Diamond got up from the rocking chair as the door opened.

Shirley-Ann said, 'Hi, darling, you're early. Don't be alarmed. This lady and gentleman are from the police.'

Diamond supplied their names.

For one worrying moment it appeared as if Bert was stripping for a fight. Without a word he unzipped the top half of his black tracksuit. He wasn't particularly tall, yet the muscle formation around his neck and shoulders-he was wearing a pale blue singlet-spoke for many sessions with weights. In fact he didn't become aggressive. Shedding the tracksuit top was his way of asserting that this was his territory, his home. He tossed it over a chair back and asked mildly if the kettle was still hot.

Julie happened to be nearest the teapot and offered to pour him some, only to be told by Shirley-Ann, 'Thanks, but Bert has his own herb tea.'

'From an 007 pot, I daresay,' Diamond commented.

Bert shot him a surprised look.

Shirley-Ann said, 'I was telling them what a wiz you are on James Bond.'

'Don't exaggerate,' said Bert. He had a high-pitched voice for such a hunk of manhood.

Shirley-Ann went close to him and gripped his solid upper arm. 'Oh, come on. If I had to have someone answering questions on Mastermind to save my life, I'd pick you.' Turning to Julie, she remarked, 'There's a wise head on these chunky shoulders.'

Bert basked briefly in the compliment. Then he reminded her, 'That isn't what they came to talk about.'

She said to him, 'We've had our talk.' Turning back to Diamond, she explained, 'Bert's very law-abiding. He told me I should have reported what happened, and I've told you everything.'

Diamond wasn't interested in Bert's probity or Shirley-Ann's lack of it. Bert's arrival had put a stop to a promising conversation. 'Not everything, ma'am. You didn't finish. You were on the point of telling us who wrote those words on the Walsingham Gallery window.'

Hearing it put so bluntly caused Shirley-Ann to bite her lip and say, 'Was I?'

Julie gave a confirming nod.

Shirley-Ann deferred to Bert, spreading her hands as if uncertain whether she should go on.

He said, 'You can only describe what you saw. They can put two and two together, the same as we did.'

She nodded, cleared her throat and said to Diamond, 'I hate to get anyone into trouble, but I did happen to notice someone that evening with tiny spots of white on him, like snow or something.'

'Who?'

'Rupert. Rupert Darby. It was on that beret he wears all the time. The spots showed up against the dark material. At the time I thought it must be dandruff. It was lightly speckled, mainly toward the front. I remembered much later.'

'We were in bed,' Bert confirmed.

She added, 'That was when it dawned on me that it could be something other than dandruff.'

'Paint from a spray, you mean?'

'Well, yes.' She nervously fingered some strands of her dark hair. 'I could be mistaken. Probably there's some innocent explanation.'

'Did it look like paint from an aerosol?'

'I think so.'

'You must be reasonably sure. Were the spots even in size?'

'Yes, and very small. Look, even if Rupert did write the words, it must have been meant in fun. He'd had a few drinks already with some people he met in the Saracen's Head. He was probably tipsy.'

'Was he sprayed on his clothes, or hands, at all?'

'I didn't notice.' She thought a moment. 'There may have been some on his shoulders, I think, which put the idea of dandruff into my mind.'

'Who else have you told about this?'

'Only Bert.'

'You haven't spoken to Rupert?'

The idea horrified her. 'He's the last person I'd speak to. I scarcely know him, anyway. He gets my name wrong. Look, if you speak to him about it, you won't bring me into it, will you?'

'Was Rupert at the party in the gallery?'

'Yes, he was already there when I arrived, with the people I mentioned.'

'Did you catch their name, by any chance?'

'Yes, it was unusual. Faulk, or Volk, or something like that. She was a sculptor and had some work in the exhibition. He was a television writer.'

'He'd met them in the Saracen's?'

'So he said.'

'And when do you think the words were sprayed onto the window?'

'I've no idea. I didn't notice them as I came in, but I didn't look specially. I just went to the door, as you do. With all the spotlights on inside, and the people, you tended to look straight through the window, not at it.'

'Since the party, have you spoken to anyone at all, any of the Bloodhounds, that is?'

'Only Jessica and AJ. this morning on the towpath. I told you about that.' She was becoming twitchy, making little nervous movements, probably regretting what she had told.

'You met them this morning?' Bert said. 'Was that wise?'

'They just happened to be there, love. It wasn't planned. I couldn't avoid saying something.'

Diamond took over again. 'You didn't tell us what was said. Was the incident discussed?'

'I'm not sure.' Swiftly, Shirley-Ann corrected herself. 'I mean, yes, it was. Oh, I do feel dreadful about this now. AJ. said we were going to erase it from our minds, and I sort of agreed. He said it must have been done by someone with a warped sense of humor. Jessica was still furious about it and said she wouldn't have harmed Sid in a million years. She said if the bastard-I'm using her words now-if the bastard pointed the finger at her again, she was going straight to the police.'

'You've done her a good turn, then,' Diamond summed up. 'Saved her the trouble.' He smiled.

Shirley-Ann didn't smile back.

'You didn't tell her about the spots on Rupert's beret?'

'Good Lord, no!'

'And you won't be mentioning what you saw to anyone else? Not Polly, not Milo, not Rupert, not anyone?'