'McGarvie?'
'He's the SIO.'
'I may call him,' Bowers said.
'That's up to you.'
'Not much point till we know who the, em, victim is.'
'Right.' Diamond suddenly felt devious again, and he didn't enjoy it when Bowers had been so obliging. He had a strong theory who the dead woman was, but his maverick status made it necessary for him to keep it to himself. 'It shouldn't take long.'
Bowers looked less confident.
'So how do you think she was brought here?' Diamond asked.
'By road, almost certainly. As you saw, you can bring a vehicle really close.'
'You don't think she was pushed off a train?'
'Unlikely. Too many people travel on them. We're assuming she was driven here by night, already dead, and dumped on the embankment. Most of the torso was found high up the slope. You can park a van up there out of sight of any houses.'
'The killer knew the area, then. A local man?'
'I wouldn't bet on it,' Bowers said. 'The thing about Woking is it's so near the motorways. Driving the M25 is a joy at night. Any street map would show him how close he could get to the trains. He could have scouted out the route one evening and brought the body here the next.'
'He'd still need to have decided on that stretch of embankment.'
'Thousands of people use the trains. Some guy living as far away as Portsmouth could have planned it. Or equally someone in London.'
'Bath is way off the route,' Diamond said, as much to himself as Bowers. 'It's not too likely he came from Bath. The killer of my wife had local knowledge.'
'Doesn't matter where he comes from,' Bowers pointed out. 'A professional hitman does his homework first. They suss out the spot they want on a couple of visits.'
Fair point, Diamond had to admit. This young detective had a good grasp. He'd be an asset in any investigation.
When he drove out of Woking that evening, with the September sun shooting blood-red streaks above Bagshot Heath, he was mentally crossing theories off his list.
24
All the way back, chugging along in the slow lane of the M4 at a steady fifty (the fastest he drove under any circumstances), he argued with himself over his next move. He was home shortly after nine, and went straight to the phone and called Julie Hargreaves, the ex-colleague he could safely confide in. This link with Steph's murder - and he was ninety per cent sure it was a link - had huge possibilities, and no one else was aware of it yet. Ahead of the field now, he knew his dangerous tendency to rush fences, and even he could see that this one had a built-in hazard. Julie's advice was worth seeking.
They got the preliminaries out of the way. Yes, he was coping better than he expected, and yes, he was sorry he hadn't been in touch for months. The subtext, understood by them both, was the awkwardness he felt as a widower calling up a woman friend. You couldn't do it without suggesting you were feeling the strain of living alone. For her part, Julie said she was sorry they hadn't been in touch more. She'd tried phoning any number of times. She asked what had happened to the answerphone he'd once had.
'Binned it,' he told her, relieved to have something functional to speak about. 'More trouble than it was worth. And don't tell me I'm back in the Stone Age, or I'll come looking for you with my club. I want your advice, Julie, but not about phones.' He told her everything he knew about the human remains beside the railway at Woking. 'You'll understand what drew me there. Middle-aged woman shot twice through the head, execution-style. That's so rare in this country I can't recall any other case except—'
'Neither can I,' she cut in. She was as keyed up as he was.
'She's been dead six months to a year, they estimate. It's mainly guesswork at this stage based on the clothes she was wearing. The body's terribly chewed up.'
'And how long has it been since . . . ?'
'Seven months on Tuesday,' he said. 'February twenty-third.'
'I suppose there could be a connection. On the other hand,' she sounded a more cautious note, 'there are obvious differences, aren't there?'
This was why he had phoned Julie, for her ability to weigh the facts.
'Such as?'
'You said this woman was shot twice in the side of the head.'
'I wouldn't make too much of that. Steph took one to the forehead and one to the side. That could be down to a head movement as the shots were fired.'
'All right. There's a bigger difference, isn't there? You say this body at Woking was well hidden?'
'The weeds are shoulder-high.'
'Well then, the killer went to some trouble to take the body there and hide it. She might not have been found for years. Whereas Steph was shot and left in the open where she was certain to be seen.'
