39
‘N ow I know how an expectant father feels,’ Diamond said as a nurse came out and walked past without even making eye contact.
Leaman thought about that for a while. ‘You want five?’
‘What?’
‘A break. Five minutes. I don’t mind hanging on here.’
Diamond turned to face him. ‘John.’
‘Guv?’
‘If I’d wanted five, I’d have taken it.’
‘Oh, cheers.’
They’d been here twenty-five. In that time they’d checked Harry Lang’s discarded clothes and found little of interest. At the time of the accident he wasn’t carrying a wallet or a mobile. All that was found with him was a hand-torch. It was likely, Diamond suggested to Leaman, that during the chase Lang had thrown away anything that might link him to the crimes. The clothes would be checked at the forensics lab but if there was anything apart from limestone dust it would be remarkable.
Yet another trolley was pushed along the corridor. This wasn’t the tea urn or medicines. It was library books. Diamond snapped his fingers and said, ‘Hey.’
The man with the trolley looked round. ‘Sorry, the books are for inpatients.’ Then he did a double-take and said, ‘Peter, what brings you here?’
For Leaman’s benefit, Diamond said, ‘Jerry Kean, John Leaman. I have news for you, Jerry. Remember those names you gave me — the personal trainers? One came up trumps.’
‘Which one?’
‘Lang. Harry Lang. I was going to speak to your mother, ask her to pass on my thanks. As a matter of fact, we’re waiting to interview Mr Lang any minute now.’
‘Here?’
‘He’s in intensive care.’
Jerry’s eyes swivelled.
‘Not what you’re thinking,’ Diamond said. ‘We’re not the heavy mob. He had an accident.’
‘What happened?’
‘Long story. We just hope he pulls through.’
‘Poor guy,’ Jerry said. ‘I’ll pray for him. By the way, I’ve got something for you.’ He ducked and pulled out a book from the bottom shelf of the trolley. ‘Here. A Murder is Announced.’
One of Steph’s Agatha Christies.
‘Unsuitable?’ Diamond said.
‘No. Open it and you’ll see.’
A bookmark was inserted at the title page. There, Diamond saw, in his own writing, To my one and only love, on her birthday, from Pete. He felt a stab of self-reproach and his eyes moistened. So easy to be ambushed.
Jerry was saying, ‘One of the patients noticed. You wouldn’t want it doing the rounds, would you?’
‘Thanks.’
Jerry rummaged in the bottom shelf again and produced a black totebag. ‘Put it in this. You don’t want to be seen walking around with an Agatha Christie. Not in your job.’
He had a point.
Diamond thanked him and dropped the book in, noticing as he did that the word ‘Hosannah’ was written in gold lettering on the bag.
‘A plug for my church,’ Jerry said. ‘If you want the matching T-shirt, just ask. Look, if you don’t mind I’ve two more wards to get round.’ He steered his trolley away and rejoined the flow along the corridor.
This was the busy time, visitors with flowers and grapes making their way to the wards. One of Diamond’s neighbours gave a wave as she walked past.
‘I get the feeling if we sit here long enough everyone we ever met will come by,’ he said to Leaman.
‘I don’t follow that.’
‘No, with your logical mind you wouldn’t.’
‘Was your friend serious about praying?’
‘Since we’re being precise, he’s not so much a friend as the son of a friend. Is he serious? I believe he is.’
Leaman’s mouth turned down in distaste. ‘Pray for a serial killer?’
‘We’re all sinners, aren’t we?’
‘Are you a church-goer, guv?’
‘I went to Sunday school a few times. I was trying to see it from his point of view. He’s a believer. Praying is what they do.’ He took the bookmark from the Agatha Christie. He’d noticed all the books in the trolley had one sticking out. It read: Hosannah Free Church, Green Park Road, Bath, reaching out to one and all. Lord’s Day Services at 8 a.m., 11 a.m. and 6.30 p.m. Join us and be joyful.
He handed it to Leaman. ‘Get the message?’
Leaman gave it a glance and handed it back. ‘The joyful bit puts me off. But I’ll say this for your friend. He’s not just a Sunday Christian.’
‘Yes, it humbles you, doesn’t it?’
‘What, other people going to church?’
‘Doing their best to save sinners when toerags like me are hoping they’ll save someone else, not us. His mother isn’t quite so caught up in it, I’m glad to say.’
‘Are you agnostic, guv?’
‘Not really.’
‘So what would you call yourself?’
‘Fat and lazy.’
Having sorted out religion, they lapsed into another period of people-watching.
‘Changing the subject,’ Leaman said, ‘while you were underground, Ingeborg called in from Midford wanting to speak to you.’
‘She’s still there?’ Brookview Lodge seemed as remote as last week’s news. ‘What was she on about?’
‘She wouldn’t say. I sensed she’d found some little item and didn’t want you hearing it second-hand.’
‘That would be the journalist in Inge. They like their credits.’
‘She’s supposed to be one of us now.’
‘Don’t take it personally, John. She’s a team player in every other way.’
A doctor came out of the ward, hesitated and looked round. Diamond was on his feet at once. ‘Are you looking for us?’
‘Are you from the police?’
‘I am.’ He identified himself. ‘Is there any improvement?’
‘He opened his eyes ten minutes ago.’
‘Can we go in?’
The doctor shook his head. ‘You’ll get damn all out of him. Leave it an hour. He’ll come back to us by degrees. There’s a canteen for outpatients downstairs.’
‘An hour — as long as that? Someone else’s life is on the line, Doctor.’
Such statements don’t carry much weight with doctors in intensive care units. ‘Didn’t you hear me? He’s not coherent yet. What’s he been up to — if it isn’t a state secret?’
Diamond stepped closer and lowered his voice. ‘He’s a suspect in a murder case. It’s vital we interview him at the first opportunity. He may know the whereabouts of a missing person every police force in the region is looking for.’
‘You won’t get two sensible words out of him. What was he doing down the mine?’
