Diamond Solitaire

'With heels?'

'I didn't notice.'

'Would you describe her as smartly dressed?'

'The clothes were Rohan, if that's what you mean.'

He hadn't meant it. He didn't know anything about Rohan clothes, or how you recognized them, but from Mrs. Straw's tone, he took it that she was sure. 'How did she wear her hair?'

'Short.'

'Very short, do you mean? Cut close to the head?'

'No. It was permed.'

'In curls?'

'Waves.'

Little by little, he was getting a mental picture, though not one that would distinguish the woman from a million other Japanese.

'What height would she have been?'

'Average.'

'Average for a Japanese?'

She responded once more with the unsatisfactory, 'I suppose so.'

After some more probing as to skin quality and coloring, and makeup (the woman had been well-groomed, it appeared), Diamond gave a nod to Julia, who said, 'Shall we continue, then? You invited the woman in.'

'Only after she showed me Naomi's photo and the passport.'

'Her own passport?'

'Her picture was in it.'

'A Japanese passport?'

'Any fool could see she wasn't from Timbuktu,' Mrs. Straw said with contempt.

Diamond just about contained himself. 'She might have held an American passport, or Australian.'

'How would I know?'

'Couldn't you see the writing on the passport?'

'I can't read Japanese.'

'So you think it was Japanese script. We're getting somewhere. We're not trying to catch you out, Mrs. Straw. We just want all the information you can give us.'

'It was in some foreign language. That's all I'm prepared to say.'

'And she also showed you this photo of Naomi?'

'Yes.'

'You're certain it was Naomi?'

'I said so.'

'You just implied that all Japanese people look alike to you.'

'If they're strangers. I've seen Naomi plenty of times.'

The point was fair.

'So was it a recent photo of Naomi?'

'Must have been.'

Julia asked. 'Did she have a name for Naomi?'

'Can't remember.'

'Come on,' Diamond urged her. 'Surely she gave a name?'

'I said I can't remember. It was double-Dutch to me. Anyway,' said Mrs. Straw, willing to move on with her account to avoid further discussion of the child's name, 'I told her Miss Musgrave wasn't here and she said she wanted to see her little girl. She kept on saying it. She wouldn't be put off. So I let her come through to the dining room.'

No one could doubt that any person who had talked her way past Mrs. Straw was uncommonly persistent.

'The children were on their own,' she explained, to justify her capitulation. 'I was forced to leave them when I went to the door. I couldn't stand arguing on the doorstep.'

'Please go on.'

'There's nothing else. She came in and went straight to Naomi and anyone could see she was the mother.'

'How?' asked Diamond.

'You wouldn't understand,' Mrs. Straw told him loftily. 'It takes a woman to understand.' She looked towards Julia for support.

Julia declined to conspire in this evasion. 'We want to know precisely what happened. Did Naomi get up and run to her?'

'Yes, of course.'

Diamond put up his hand too late to intervene, realizing that he couldn't caution Julia for putting words into Mrs. Straw's mouth, as he might if some raw police constable were asking leading questions. The damage was done now. Mrs. Straw was launched and away.

'They cuddled and kissed and wept a few tears and talked to each other in Japanese.'

'Talked? Naomi talked?'

'The mother I mean. Then she said she was going to take Naomi home, so I said I didn't think she should until she'd seen Miss Musgrave. I tried my level best to keep her there, but you've got to remember I was on my own here apart from the girl in the kitchen. The other children had to be looked after.'

'Why wouldn't she stay?' Diamond asked. 'What was the hurry?'

'I can't say. You can't tell with foreigners.'

'What happened then?'

'I asked the cook to keep an eye on the children while we went upstairs and collected the clothes Naomi came in. I let them take the things she was wearing. I knew Miss Musgrave wouldn't mind.'

'Then what?'

'They left.'

'Without leaving a name or address?'

'I forgot to ask.'

'Brilliant.'

'She was in a hurry to go,' said Mrs. Straw in her defense.

'And you couldn't wait to show her the door.'

'That isn't fair. And it isn't true, either.' Reacting to a convenient scream from the garden, Mrs. Straw said, 'Lord knows what the children are getting up to. I'd better go.'

Diamond said firmly that he hadn't finished. He wanted to see the room where Naomi slept.

'Suit yourself. There's nothing to see,' Mrs. Straw declared.

'Take us there now, if you please.'

She took a sharp, indignant breath and turned in protest to Julia Musgrave, who told her firmly to do as Mr. Diamond instructed.

As if every step were on red-hot coals she led them upstairs and opened a door to a room containing three small beds. The quilts were thrown back.

'Which is Naomi's?'

Mrs. Straw pointed to the one nearest the door. A light green pair of child's pajamas lay over the pillow. Diamond picked them up.

'School property,' Mrs. Straw informed him.

He tossed them back and opened the locker beside the bed. Nothing was inside. But before rising, he happened to notice the hard, straight edge of something squeezed between the bedstead and the mattress. He slipped his hand inside.

A remark of Julia Musgrave's came back to him: They can hide a favorite toy and weeks, months later, go straight to it. What he had found was Naomi's drawing pad. He withdrew it and flicked through the pages to be quite certain.

'She left this.'

'Must have forgotten it,' Mrs. Straw said tersely.