'And the Carpenters?' Diamond pressed him.
'Des and Danny appear to be watertight for yesterday morning.'
He shook his head. 'Surprise me.'
'Des was motoring back from Essex and has a credit card voucher for fuel placing him on the M4 at Reading Services at ten-thirty.'
'I'd check the forecourt video if I were you.'
'It's in hand.'
After spooning instant coffee into two mugs Diamond moistened the granules with a dash of milk from a bottle that must have been on the table since yesterday. 'You like it white?'
McGarvie frowned at the lumpen mess. 'Sure.'
Mike James just nodded. He was so ill at ease in the home of his bereaved boss he would have drunk the cat's water if it were handed to him.
'And the other one? Danny?'
'At the gym in Bristol for an hour until ten, signed in, signed out, and vouched for by the staff there, and afterwards went to his solicitor in Clifton.'
'Who of course recorded precisely when he arrived and left? They really wrapped this up.'
'You think they used a hitman?'
'Don't you?'
McGarvie left the question hanging. Diamond poured hot water into the mugs and handed them over. Curds and black granules rose to the surface. McGarvie picked up the spoon and stirred his. They carried them through to the living room. The curtains hadn't been pulled.
'DI Halliwell was telling me about this woman who attacked you after the trial,' McGarvie said. 'Had you seen her before?'
'Just a faint memory of her sitting in the public gallery. She must have been one of the crowd who screamed at the judge.'
'But you didn't come across her when you worked on the case?'
'No. It's possible some of the team did. I didn't do all the legwork myself. Do we know who she is?'
'Not yet.'
'Blond, shoulder-length hair. Tallish. Five-seven, five-eight. Probably under thirty. Long fingernails.'
'I can see.'
Diamond put his hand to his face. The scratches were still there, though the incident seemed like a century ago. 'She was in some kind of trousef suit. Black or dark blue.'
'Did you see who she was with?'
He shook his head. 'Some of the Carpenter mob. Heard them shouting. I was avoiding eye contact at the time.'
'I wonder if anyone got it on video. There must have been camera crews around.'
'Didn't notice any.'
'Let's get back to your wife.'
'Wish I could.'
McGarvie glanced at Diamond, who gave a sharp sigh, more angry than self-pitying.
'Sorry. Go on.'
'This has to be asked. Can you think of anyone with a grudge against her?'
He shook his head. 'Steph didn't make enemies. I never knew anyone who disliked her.'
'The opposite, then. Someone who fancied her?'
The idea caught him off-balance. 'A stalker?'
'It happens. Had she mentioned anyone giving her the eye in recent weeks?'
'No.' This line of enquiry was a waste of time in his opinion. 'I've got to face it — she was murdered for no better reason than being married to me.'
'I'm trying to keep an open mind. How did she spend her time?'
'She's always done charity work, serving in the Oxfam shop, and Save the Children at one time, organising the rota, running the stall at this or that event.'
'Was that where she was going yesterday?'
'What day was it? I have to think. I've lost track.'
'Tuesday.'
He shut his eyes to get his brain working. 'Tuesday was the morning she kept clear for shopping and so on.'
