Diamond Dust

He told Julie about the gun.

'That is a facer,' she agreed. 'Whatever possessed you to keep a gun? Oh, don't bother. What are they doing? Testing it?'

'Yes, and when it turns out to be the murder weapon, I'm screwed.'

'How could it be?'

'You tell me. I didn't expect it to turn up in a tin box in my garden.'

'You think someone is trying to frame you?'

'Trying? It's done and dusted.'

'McGarvie wouldn't stoop to that. You may not like him, and I understand why, but he's honest.'

'And so wide of the mark, Julie. He should be out there catching the real killer instead of breathing down my neck.'

'Yes,' she admitted. 'I thought he was going to make a fist of this. I misjudged him.'

'You're not alone.'

'But I told you he was good. I'm sorry.' She tried sounding a brighter note. 'What about you? I bet you haven't been sitting on the sidelines these last weeks. What have you dug up?'

'Sweet f.a., apart from Steph's diary' He told her how he'd tracked it down with the help of the wino, Warburton, and how McGarvie was alleging that the entries relating to 'T' were faked.

'That man has certainly got it in for you. How did you get up his nose?'

'You know me, Julie. A touch hot-headed.'

'Only a touch?'

He sensed that she was smiling.

She asked, 'What else have you been up to?'

'I'm still convinced this was a contract killing. I called on one of the Carpenter brothers - Danny. I can hear you saying 'That wasn't wise', and you're right. He'd think nothing of topping me. He's bitter aboutJake, never mind that the toerag got what he deserved. But Danny Carpenter wouldn't see the point in having Steph killed. That's too devious for him.'

'You count him out?'

'Unless there was some motive I'm not aware of.'

'But who else would hire a gunman?'

'I've been over that many times, Julie. McGarvie took me through all the cases I've had anything to do with in Bath and Bristol. Most were domestic. No one fits the frame.'

'How about earlier - when you were in the Met?'

'Bloody long time to harbour a grudge. More than ten years. It's true I came up against professional criminals more often in those days. But, Julie, the hard men think like Danny Carpenter: if they wanted to hit me, I'm a big enough target.'

Julie asked suddenly, 'In your time with the Met, did you ever rub shoulders with a DCI Weather?'

'Say that again.'

'Weather.'

Anything outside the focus of his attention was an effort to take in. 'In the Met, you said? There was a copper of that name at Fulham. We called him Stormy, of course. He could be the same guy. Chief Inspector now, is he? Why — have you met him?'

'No. His wife is missing. She's ex-police. A sergeant at Shepherd's Bush until a year or so ago. Pat Weather. I read about her in one of those Scotland Yard bulletins that get sent out - the ones you never bother with.'

'How long has she been gone?'

'More than a week.'

'Problem in the marriage, I expect.'

'I just thought I'd mention it. If some evil-minded crook was looking for a way to settle old scores, he might be targeting detectives' wives.'

He weighed the suggestion. 'You think this missing woman is dead?'

'I just wonder.'

'It's a big assumption, Julie.'

'At this point, yes. But if anything has happened to her . . .’

'Let's hope not, for both their sakes. But thanks. I'll keep tabs on this one. Stormy Weather. Right now I don't remember anything about the guy except his nickname, but he could have been involved in cases I was on. Let's see how it plays. Can't call him with the news that my wife was murdered when he's hoping his is still alive.'

'So what are your theories about the diary?' she asked him.

'This T'? I'm foxed. Can't link it to anyone. And not for want of trying. I've been through our address book as well as Steph's.'