Diamond Solitaire

'If it's going to be any help to us, it has to be,' said Stein. 'I mean, what have we got here? Is this some kind of overpass? Because they're not common in New York City.'

Diamond stared at the drawing. He saw what Stein had obviously seized on-the broad causeway stretching southeast to northwest, apparently crossing minor routes. 'If so, what's the rectangular object there?''

'Automobile, I guess.'

'A bird's-eye view, you mean?'

'Could be.'

'Then what is this elongated shape along the center?'

Stein considered for a moment. 'You say this kid has an original way of seeing things. Maybe we're looking at the underside of the Buick. This could be the exhaust.'

'The underside?' Diamond doubted whether a child of that age had such technical know-how, and said so. He also doubted whether Naomi was capable of the conceptual ability necessary to draw a map. 'She draws from memory what she has actually seen. In England she was taken on a train, and later she made an accurate sketch of the back of the seat facing her.'

'Was that helpful to your investigation?'

'Not directly, no.'

Sergeant Stein lifted his eyebrows as if to question the value of more time spent deciphering Naomi's work.

Diamond said, 'This object that you think could be a car looks awfully like an old-fashioned razor blade to me.'

'Uh huh,' said Stein without committing himself.

'Before they invented disposable razors.'

'I remember razor blades,' said Stein, 'but if that's a blade, I have a problem understanding the rest of the drawing.'

'Me too.'

'I'll just attend.to a couple of other things that came up.'

A bandoned to ponder the mystery alone, Diamond tried turning his notebook to see if die picture made more sense orientated differently. There was no certainty that what he'd taken to be the top was actually so; you can turn a food container any way you like and draw on it. No new possibilities leapt out. The rectangular shape still looked like a razor blade from every angle. Now that he'd lodged that idea in his brain, he couldn't visualize anything else.

Towards noon, Lieutenant Eastland, the officer in charge of the case-the man who had compared him to Winnie the Pooh-came in and said there was some progress in identifying the dead woman. The Japanese police had checked the Yokohama address in the passport. Mrs. Tanaka was divorced and lived alone. Until the previous November she had been employed as a secretary at Yokohama University.

'A secretary? That begs a few questions,' Diamond commented. 'It could mean she was a high-powered administrator or simply a typist.'

'My information is that she worked in the faculty of science as one of the team of people operating word processors,' Eastland told him. 'As for the kid-'

Diamond interrupted. 'Lieutenant, there's something I should tell you about the kid.' This would be embarrassing, but it had to be admitted. 'I'm pretty sure Naomi wasn't Mrs. Tanaka's child. She had a daughter of her own who died. I, em, I found this picture of the grave. This was the child listed in the passport.' He produced the photo from his pocket and prepared to be sliced into small pieces. The withholding of evidence wasn't the way to win friends and influence people.

The inevitable question came: 'Where did you get this?'

He answered, explained and apologized.

'Why are you showing it to me now?' Eastland asked without otherwise reacting. He was a tight-lipped, gaunt- looking cop in his forties, with a measured style of speech.

'Because it may have a bearing on the case.'

'You knew that last night.'

'I only examined it after you'd finished with me.'

'Couldn't take more of the same, huh?'

'That wasn't the reason.'

'So what was?'

'Priorities. I wanted to keep it simple. The first thing was to get the machinery in place to find Naomi, never mind who she is.'

'Did you remove anything else from the wallet?'

'No.'

'Can I rely on that?'

'Absolutely.'

'You know what you are?'

'I know what you think I am.'

'So long as we both understand,' said Eastland flatly. 'Now would you be so gracious as to share with me the drawing you were discussing with Sergeant Stein?'

The sarcasm couldn't have been more blatant, but at least there was some recognition of Diamond's efforts at consultation.

He opened his notebook again. Not wishing to preempt any ideas the lieutenant might have, he said nothing about the razor blade.

'You believe the kid drew this?'

Diamond explained that he had made a copy.

Eastland frowned at the drawing for some time. Finally, all he could find to say was, 'What's your opinion?'

'I think the small object is a razor blade.'

'Could be. In that case, what is it standing on-a shelf? Are we in a bathroom here? This semicircular section- does this represent a sink?'

'I hadn't thought of that.'

'The bathroom attached to the murder room has a similar basin, only the shelf is at quite a different angle. No bathroom shelf I ever saw is suspended across the width of the basin. Mind you, kids draw things from strange angles.'

'She'd have needed to be taller than you or me to look down on the shelf in that bathroom,' Diamond commented.

'I'm saying kids get things out of line.'

'She's an accurate artist.'

'And you think this is significant?'

'With not much else to go on…' said Diamond, his voice trailing away as a new possibility dawned.

'Even if it is a drawing of the bathroom,' said Eastland. 'Even if there was a razor blade in there-and I don't have any recollection of one-where does it lead us?'

Suddenly the marks made sense to Diamond. Everything clicked into mental focus. 'It's a tattoo.'

'A what

'The razor blade is a tattoo. Take another look. This thing you thought was the shelf is obviously someone's arm against a steering wheel. She draws what she sees in front of her. I think that's the suspect's arm. It's the view Naomi must have had if she was strapped into the front seat beside him.'

Eastland stared at it for some time. 'You could be right.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

One of the older cops passing through the office had a memory of a razor blade tattoo. It had been the emblem