“Close to Bath?”
“What’s it to you?”
“We can give you a lift home.”
“Piss off.”
Diamond manfully took this as the end of the exchange with Julie and his turn to try. “We’d like to meet G.B., just to get his memories of four years ago. Do you think he’d agree to meet us?”
“Why ask me?”
“We’d ask him if he was here, but you’re the next best.”
She transferred her interest to the cigarette, as if she’d won that point, too.
“He’s your bloke, you said. Does he know you came? We can keep you out of it if you like.”
“I’m not scared of him,” said Shirl, but it sounded more like bravado than the truth.
“Did he send you?”
Silence.
This time Diamond let her stew for a while. She’d given no sign of wishing to leave and there had to be some reason why she had come. Crusties aren’t in the habit of walking into police stations to fraternize with the fuzz.
Julie knew the tactics. She gazed steadily at the stack of stationery opposite as if her true vocation were counting envelopes.
Shirl endured the indifference for a minute or so and then became fidgety, inhaling on the cigarette several times and puffing out smoke. Finally she pinched out the lighted end and positioned it to cool on the edge of the desk. She lowered her legs to the floor and leaned forward in the chair.
“You think G.B. stiffed her, don’t you?” Her black-lined eyes bore into Diamond. “Don’t you?”
Trying not to react at all, he stared over her head at an out-of-date notice about Colorado beetles.
Shirl blurted it all out. “You’ve had the wrong bloke banged up, and now he’s escaped. That teacher. Mountjoy, or something. He didn’t kill the woman. G.B. says so.”
“He told you that?” Diamond reacted eagerly, breaking his vow of silence. “What else did he tell you?”
Interrupting her had been a tactical error. It shocked her into silence. Worse, she got up and walked to the door, pausing only to retrieve the dog-end from the edge of the desk.
Julie put a sisterly hand on her shoulder and said, “You’re going to want somewhere to sleep, love. You can’t go back to him.”
“I’m not scared of him,” Shirl insisted for the second time, brushing Julie’s hand away. “He didn’t do nothing- well, nothing serious.”
Some fast talking was required, so Diamond said with a firm statement of fact that rapidly gave way to an appeal and then practically a cry for help, “It’s obvious that G.B. sent you. Fair enough-he wants to know what we’re up to. Would you give him a message from me? Tell him I’d like to meet him and talk about Britt Strand. He could be a crucial witness. Tell him I’m only interested in what happened four years ago when he was squatting in Trim Street. I’m willing to go anywhere for a friendly chat. Anywhere he cares to name.” Before he had finished, Shirl was out of the door and on her way downstairs to the street. It was by no means certain that she had heard the offer of a meeting.
“Shall I get the car?” Julie offered.
“No point. She’d lose us easily in Bath. I’m going to organize a tail. On foot.”
She looked doubtful. “You’ll have to be quick about it.”
“Yes, it’s you.”
Julie gave him a startled look. “But she knows me.”
He nodded. “She’ll expect someone to come after her, so it might as well be you. Radio in when you can.” Man management had never been Diamond’s strong suit. As for woman management… pass.
Julie got up and went through the door without letting her eyes meet Diamond’s.
After she’d gone, he sat back and pondered the reason for Shirl’s visit. It seemed to have been dedicated to getting one point across. Having delivered the statement that Mountjoy was innocent, she couldn’t get away fast enough. Did G.B. seriously think he would get the police off his back by sending this tantalizing message? If the man really knew something that hadn’t been aired before, this could be a pivotal moment in the case. The most likely explanation was that Shirl had been sent solely to find out why there was police interest in G.B., who was probably involved in other, unrelated crimes. She hadn’t been instructed to say anything about Mountjoy. That had been a bonus.
He ambled along the corridor to check on progress in the hunt for Mountjoy. Standing among the computer terminals where civilian staff tapped steadily at the keyboards, Commander Warrilow eyed him morosely.
“Any progress?” Diamond enquired.
“It’s all progress.”
“That’s a positive attitude.”
“We’ve just had a sighting.”
“Nice work!”
“Possibly. A man of his description was seen less than an hour ago in the Circus.”
“Walking the tightrope?” Diamond asked, knowing perfectly well that the reference was to the circle of terraces that was one of Bath’s architectural glories.
Warrilow ignored the remark and said, “The water people are working up there, inspecting the drains. Several inspection covers have been open all week.”
Diamond widened his eyes. “And you suspect…?”
Warrilow gave a nod. “The original sewage culverts go right underneath the buildings. They’re large. You can stand upright in some of them. We think he could be hiding there. I’ve got a search party about to go in.”
Peter Diamond started to whistle the theme from The Third Man.
Warrilow clicked his tongue and turned his back.
Diamond moved on to the radio room and told the sergeant supervisor that he wanted to be informed when Julie Hargreaves checked in. “Should be soon,” he said confidently. “Can I borrow a headset?”
In a few minutes he heard Julie announce herself. She had followed Shirl to the railway station forecourt, where she had stopped to talk to a couple of crusty men, neither of whom fitted G.B.’s description. “Now she’s leaving them, heading for the tunnel under the railway where the taxis line up. I’m following.”
Diamond turned to the sergeant. “Do we still have a unit to monitor the movements of travelers and crusties?” One summer there had been a much publicized incident on the M5 motorway when the crusties had halted their vehicles in line and blocked the traffic for over an hour as a protest against what they termed police harassment.
“Only in the summer months, sir. They’re less of a problem now.”
“Like house flies? So we ignore them in the winter?”
“We don’t have the resources to monitor them all the year round.”
Muttering, he replaced the headset. Julie didn’t make contact again for twenty minutes. Then she reported that she had just reached the A36, the Warminster Road, and Shirl was by the side of the road trying to hitchhike. “What are my orders if she gets a lift?” she asked.
Diamond said ungraciously, “I suppose I’d better pick you up. Where exactly are you?”
“I just gave you my position.” Julie’s indignation came forcibly over the two-way radio.
He didn’t apologize. He wasn’t much good at street names and chasing about in cars wasn’t his favorite pastime. The sergeant in the radio room put a finger on the appropriate place on a street map displayed on the wall. With an air of martyrdom, Diamond went to collect the Escort.
He drove it through central Bath and over Pulteney Bridge at the modest speed dictated by the traffic.
Julie was still waiting by the government buildings opposite Minster Way. She waved vigorously.
“Lost her, then?” he said.
“Not if we get weaving,” she informed him as she got in. “She’s in one of those long builder’s lorries with a yellow cab. He picked her up about two minutes ago. We ought to be able to catch it.”
“We can try,” he said without much conviction. “Not easy to overtake on this road. With this old heap, I mean.” He spoke as if all he needed were some extra horsepower. In driving away, he pulled out in the path of a BMW that was forced to brake abruptly. “What I could really do with,” he said above the blare of the BMW’s horn,
