'She didn't tell you what she was planning?'
'She would if it was out of the ordinary. I guess it was going to be the same as any other Tuesday.'
'If she'd arranged to meet someone, she'd tell you?'
'Always.'
'Did she write it down anywhere? A calendar? An appointments book?'
'Diary.'
McGarvie's eyebrows arched hopefully.
'In her handbag,' Diamond added. 'Did you find it?'
'No.'
'It's not here. I can tell you that. She always had it with her if she went out. I was thinking last night it's strange the bag was taken - unless someone else came along after she was . . .'
'Possible,' McGarvie agreed.
They both reflected on that for a moment before Diamond said, 'I don't think a hitman would take it.'
'Probably not.'
'And I can't believe she was mugged.'
'Why not?'
'Shot dead - for a handbag?'
'You don't want to believe it,' said McGarvie, 'and I can understand why. But there are yobbos out there who hold life as cheaply as that. We can't discount it. Why was she in the park? Was it a place where she liked to walk?'
'No.'
'You mean not at all?'
'That's what I said.'
'Never went there?'
'Hardly ever. And she didn't go for walks on Tuesdays. She was always too busy catching up with herself. It was her day for jobs, shopping, some cooking sometimes, housework.'
'Was there a phone call?'
'Before I left, you mean? No.'
'Could she have made one?'
'Not to my knowledge. You'd better check with BT.'
'It's in hand,' McGarvie said. He seemed to be doing the right things. 'Did she carry a mobile?'
'Do we strike you as the sort of couple who carry mobiles?'
'In other words, no.'
'Are you thinking she was lured to the park?' Diamond said.
'Possibly. Or driven there. Met the killer somewhere else.' He glanced around the room. 'He could have come here.'
'I don't think so.'
'We can't be sure.'
'She's not going to invite a stranger in. She knew better than that. And you're wrong about being driven there. Steph wouldn't get into a car.'
'Unless she was forced.'
'She'd have put up a fight.'
'There are no signs of it.'
This was true, he knew. He remembered holding her cold, limp hands. And the pathologists's remark about the state of them. 'Is Middleton doing the PM?'
'Eleven-thirty.'
He closed his eyes and was silent for a moment. 'Who's going to be there?'
McGarvie steered the conversation away. 'You said she had no enemies, so let's talk about yours.'
'Waste of time.'
'Why?'
'Come on. This has the Carpenters written all over it' 'In my shoes, you wouldn't say that. You know the danger of going for the obvious. No disrespect, Peter, but you've roughed up more villains than just the Carpenters.'
'Ancient history.'
McGarvie drew a long breath to contain his patience. 'Don't you think you owe it to her to help me?'
