future, as we all did. She was deeply committed to this wonderful old theatre.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard that,’ Diamond said.
‘Will you draw a line under the investigation?’ Melmot asked, sounding as casual as he could. ‘I believe some of your people are backstage at this minute.’
‘Enquiring into Denise Pearsall’s death,’ Diamond said, conceding nothing. ‘That continues until we find out exactly what happened.’
‘It’s academic, isn’t it? Nothing can bring her back.’
‘But I’ll be giving evidence to a coroner. I need all the facts.’ He took a step towards the stage door. ‘I’d better see what progress they’ve made.’
‘I don’t know how you get inside the mind of a suicide victim.’
‘We can’t and we won’t.’ Diamond nodded and moved on and into the building.
Clarion’s decision baffled him. Her career was in ruins but she could still afford a lawsuit and she had a strong chance of winning. If Melmot hadn’t persuaded her to drop the case, who had?
The back stairs to dressing room eleven were testing for a man of his bulk, yet easier than the iron ladder in the fly tower. He paused at the top to draw breath. He could hear voices ahead. Pleasing to know that the crime scene people were at work in number eleven; less pleasing when he saw who was in charge, an old antagonist called Duckett.
‘What’s the story so far?’ Diamond asked as he raised the tape across the door to duck under it.
‘Stop right there, squire,’ Duckett called across the room through his mask. He looked risible in the white zip- suit and bonnet that was de rigeur for crime scene investigators. Two others, a man and a woman, were similarly dressed and on hands and knees under the dressing tables. ‘Don’t take another step. You’ll contaminate the evidence.’
Diamond chose not to disclose that he’d been in here with Titus at lunchtime. He waited for Duckett to come to the doorway by the least obvious route, hugging the walls. ‘You may not know this, but it was me who called you in.’
‘I guessed as much,’ Duckett said with a superior tone. ‘A dressing room as large as this and filled with trace evidence from I don’t know how many people is about the most complicated scene any investigator can have to examine. Thanks for that.’
‘I won’t need to know its entire history,’ Diamond said. ‘If you can tell me who was here most recently, that would help.’
‘Apart from two lumbering detectives in size ten shoes, you mean?’
One detective and one dramaturge, Diamond was tempted to point out, but it wasn’t worth saying.
‘It’s true there’s about three weeks of dust over every surface,’ Duckett said. ‘You asked who was here and I can’t tell you, of course. All I’m able to say at this stage is that within the last few days two people were in here and one at least had long reddish hair.’
Two people, one of them Denise. This had huge potential importance. ‘The dead woman had long red hair.’
‘We’re in a theatre. I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions as to gender. They weren’t here long, going by what we found, but they seem to have done some drinking. The marks in the dust look like the bases of wine glasses and a bottle.’
‘You haven’t found the bottle?’
‘Taken away, apparently. As were the glasses, the cork and the wrapping. Someone extra tidy, or secretive. The owner of the red hair sat in that chair at the end while the other individual perched on top of the dressing table opposite.’
‘Didn’t they leave any other traces?’
‘People always leave traces. It’s the principle of exchange. When two objects come into contact, particles are transferred. How informative those particles may be is another question. We’ll examine everything and let you know in due course.’
He heard the ‘in due course’ with a sinking heart. ‘Fingerprints?’
‘A few so far, not of much use. Paradoxically, the best prints come from a clean surface, not one coated with several weeks of dust.’
‘Signs of violence?’
‘None that we’ve discovered. All the indications are that the people came in, made themselves comfortable, enjoyed a drink and left. It’s not what I call a crime scene.’
‘A woman fell to her death from the loading bridge across the passage,’ Diamond reminded him.
‘I know, and we’ll examine that, too.’
‘If they left with the bottle and glasses it must be because they didn’t want them discovered later.’
Duckett shrugged. ‘Or simply that they didn’t finish the wine and took it with them.’
‘Is there anything you can tell me about the second person, the one who sat on the dressing table?’
‘Average-sized buttocks.’
‘Average? What’s that?’
‘Slimmer than yours.’
‘Oh, thanks.’
