The music reached its final bars. The dancers smiled and thanked each other. Observing the old-fashioned gallantry of the ballroom, Jim began to escort his partner to one of the tables on the far side. Diamond pursued them round the edge of the floor. He’d not got more than halfway when the MC announced that the next dance would be a ladies’ invitation waltz. The words didn’t register with Diamond. The first he knew of it was when his path was blocked by a little silver-haired woman in a purple dress and granny glasses who said, ‘My dance, please.’
He started to say he wasn’t there to dance and she said, ‘Ladies’ invitation.’ Then the music started up again. The little lady said, ‘Can’t hear you, mister. I’m eighty per cent deaf. But the rest of me is in perfect order.’ With that, she gripped his left hand, put her right on his upper arm, and reversed, tugging him into action. He’d never mastered dancing, but it didn’t matter because his partner knew the steps and was so close that her sinewy thighs made sure he moved the right legs. She said, ‘Relax. You’ll be all right with me. I’m Annie, by the way, and I’m eighty-two. I end up with all the handsome men and the other girls can’t understand how I manage it.’
Those ingrained good manners of his took over. ‘I’m Peter.’
‘Walter?’ she said. ‘Old-fashioned name. Walt suits you better.’
He would be Walt for the rest of the dance.
‘I’ll give you a tip, Walt,’ she said when he was trying to pivot like the other dancers. ‘Rubbers don’t work too well.’
He didn’t like to think what she was talking about.
She said, ‘Leather soles next time.’
This had happened so fast that he had some sympathy with the ladies who couldn’t understand how Annie got her man each time. He’d barely set foot in the place and here he was doing the one-two-three as if it was his chief joy in life. Jim Middleton glided by so close that their shoulders almost touched. This wasn’t the moment to talk.
He lost the tempo.
‘Don’t look down, Walt,’ Annie said. ‘That’s a sure way to go wrong. Just follow me. Walk. Side and Close. Better.’
Here he was, the hard man of Manvers Street nick, getting a dancing lesson from an eighty-two-year-old. What a good thing Halliwell, Ingeborg and the rest of them couldn’t see this. He wouldn’t be telling them about it.
‘We call it floorcraft,’ Annie said after he’d backed into another couple and almost caused an accident. ‘You have to be aware of other dancers, you know. Feet together and start again.’
He had to keep starting again. It seemed to him that the waltz lasted twice as long as the quickstep he’d watched, and it was one of those tunes that repeated, giving no clue as to when it would end. No use asking Annie if she’d had enough. She was humming the tune.
The last bars were a mercy, like the bell at the end of a one-sided boxing match. Annie finished with a flourish, a twirl worthy of old Vienna, followed by a dip and a curtsy with a saucy lift of the skirt. Diamond nodded, smiled, thanked her and went after Jim again, who this time was heading for a table at the far end.
He caught up with him and said, ‘Dr Middleton, I presume.’
Jim turned and squinted at him. ‘We know each other, don’t we? Can’t place you right now.’
Diamond introduced himself.
‘Stone the crows,’ Jim said. ‘It’s two years since I retired and I’ve wiped most of that from my memory. You’re the fellow whose wife was shot. A tragic case.’
‘That sums me up nicely.’
‘I don’t mean it personally. And you’re still in the police?’
‘Keeps me occupied.’
‘Rather you than me. Well, it’s good to see you here. Welcome to the tea dance. Bit of a change from chasing villains, but you need to be speedy here to get the best partners.’
‘Oh, I’m not here for the dancing.’
Jim smiled at that and leaned forward for a confidential word. ‘Good man, honest like me. It’s a great place to meet birds. They’re well in the majority.’ He put a hand on Diamond’s shoulder and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. ‘By the way, I don’t talk about my old job here. They think I was something in the secret service. Do me a favour and play along if anyone asks.’
With that, the music started again and Jim was on his feet. ‘Foxtrot. My speciality. They queue up to foxtrot with me. Why don’t you give one of them a treat? See you later — if one of us doesn’t get lucky.’
The pattern was set for the next half-hour. Such were the demands that Jim couldn’t have stopped for a serious conversation if he’d wanted. He didn’t miss a dance.
Diamond became a wallflower, retreating to the dark area under the balcony trying to think what excuse to make if they had another ladies’ invitation. He was in two minds whether to stay. He couldn’t see how he’d get another chance with Jim Middleton.
Then he heard the clatter of crockery from an inner room and it dawned on him that a tea dance must involve tea at some stage. There would be an interval and he might after all get a few more words with Jim. Some spare tables were pushed together and loaded with cups and saucers. Cakes and scones began to appear. The people who weren’t dancing started moving towards the tables, taking positions. They weren’t so obvious about it as to form a queue, but they were making sure that when one did form they wouldn’t be at the end.
Jim was doing something called a square tango that seemed to require a tighter clinch than any of the dances up to now. He’d found the lady with the deepest cleavage and was holding her as if it was his mission to hide the display from everyone else.
The teapots were brought from the kitchen and a queue formed quicker than a Boston two-step. The music continued with only Jim and his partner on the floor, swaying in a kind of trance.
Diamond felt his arm gripped. Deaf Annie was telling him to get in line because all the best cakes would be gone.
He thanked her and pointed his free hand towards the toilets.
She relaxed her hold. ‘You go, and I’ll keep your place.’
He headed across the room and with nice timing the music stopped and Jim started walking in the same direction. They met at the door of the gents. ‘You look as if your need is greater than mine,’ Jim said, holding it open.
‘I’m fine,’ Diamond said as he stepped inside. ‘Just need some advice.’
‘Have you pulled already?’ Jim said. ‘Go for it, matey.’
‘Professional advice. Would you mind reading through a postmortem report and telling me what you think?’
The chumminess drained away. ‘No chance. I’ve put all that behind me.’
‘Off the record, of course.’
Jim Middleton leaned back and for a moment Diamond thought the dancing had been all too much and he was about to fall over, but he was checking that the cubicles were not in use.
Diamond said, ‘I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.’
Jim said, ‘If they find out I did dissections for a living I’ll never get another partner.’
‘Your cover blown. The James Bond of the ballroom unmasked.’
‘Is that a threat? You wouldn’t… would you?’
‘Play along, Jim, and it won’t come to that.’
Jim used his second line of defence. ‘You want a second opinion? This is a dodgy area, my friend. If I throw doubt on someone else’s findings I could end up in the courts. My profession has taken a lot of flak lately. Forensic pathology is getting a bad name. There have been some juicy cases, as you’re well aware.’
‘This is a Dr Sealy.’
‘I remember Bertram Sealy,’ Jim said. ‘He’s good at his job.’ His rising tone on the last word suggested this was not the whole story.
‘You may have seen the case in the paper. Woman found hanging in Sydney Gardens. It turned out she was strangled first.’
‘I don’t bother with the papers.’
‘Three days later the woman’s ex-lover hanged himself from the railway viaduct.’
