Tott and Wigfull. What a team! Diamond couldn’t think of any two people outside prison he’d rather avoid.
A cadet came in with coffee and cheese and ham sandwiches. Wigfull glided in behind him and took his place at the table. Diamond noted sardonically that Wigfull’s elevation to head of the murder squad had produced one interesting change: his mustache had been trimmed. These days he was more like the former English cricket captain than the Laughing Cavalier.
“I believe you’re going to brief me, John.”
“Presently.” Wigfull waited for the cadet to leave. When the door was closed he glanced toward Tott, an observance of courtesy or bootlicking, depending on how you viewed it, and received a nod. “Ten days ago, as you know, that is on October the fourth, John Mountjoy escaped from Albany.”
“You say ‘as you know,’ but I know damn all,” said Diamond.
Wigfull gave him a disbelieving look. “It’s been in all the papers.”
“I don’t see the papers. I’m a free man, John. I do as I like.”
“Well, he bluffed his way through God knows how many electronically locked doors disguised as a police officer. To be fair to the prison staff there was a disturbance in one of the halls at the time. It hasn’t been established yet whether the trouble was started deliberately as a cover for the escape. Anyway, Mount joy had up to two hours’ start before the alarm was raised. He is either foolhardy or extremely cunning because instead of heading straight for the road he made his way toward the neighboring prison at Parkhurst, which you’ll know is just across a field from Albany. There, he visited the married quarters and stole a Metro belonging to a prison officer’s wife. It was found abandoned two days later at Bembridge.”
“That’s an odd way to go. Isn’t Bembridge way out on the eastern tip of the Island?”
“This man does nothing predictable. While all places north of Albany were being combed, he stole a small sailing dinghy, a Mirror, from outside a holiday cottage near the harbor.”
“Lucky.”
“Not really. He had the choice of several. People are slaphappy with their boats on the Island. The owner left all the gear on board. All Mountjoy had to do was wheel the thing down to the beach under cover of darkness, poke under the cover and take out the sails and rig it.”
“Where did he learn to sail?”
“Does it matter?” said Tott, betraying impatience.
“It must have mattered to him when he launched the boat.”
Wigfull said as if it shouldn’t be necessary to state the obvious, “He went to school at Eastbourne. Public school.”
Diamond-the product of a grammar school-stoutly refused to take anything for granted. “Do they teach the boys to sail?”
“Generally in Mirrors.”
Wigfull’s inside knowledge of the public school system was matched by the expertise he had just acquired in sailing. “He must have launched it under cover of darkness, and sailed hard eastward. There was a flood tide during those nights that would tend to drag him toward Portsmouth and he actually navigated it across fifteen miles of sea to West Wittering.”
“How do you know all this?”
“The owner came down from London to shut up the cottage at Bembridge and found his boat missing. Bits of the hull have been found all along the foreshore at West Wittering. He might have assumed Mountjoy had drowned if a local farmer hadn’t found some sails and a lifejacket bundled in a hedge. Meanwhile there were search teams combing the Island between Albany and Cowes, every ferry was under observation and helicopters were patroling the Solent.”
“And he made his way to Bath?”
Wigfull gave a nod. “Everything I tell you now is under embargo. The media will have to hold off until we resolve it one way or another. Nothing was heard of Mountjoy for almost a week. Then yesterday evening a phone call was taken by the switchboard operator at the Royal Crescent Hotel. The caller was male, an educated voice. He told the girl to write down what he said and see that it reached the police as soon as possible. This is what we were given.” He handed across a sheet from a message pad with the Royal Crescent heading.
Diamond gave it a glance intended at first to demonstrate his reluctance to be involved, but the sight of his name in the message was irresistible. He picked it up and read: Mr. Tott, for the girl’s sake, tell Diamond to be ready with a car tomorrow at 9 A.M. He is to be alone. No radio and no bugs and no one to follow. Remember I have nothing to lose.
“The girl? Is it a kidnap, then?” Diamond said, and without letting his eyes meet Julie’s he went on blandly to ask, “Do we know who she is?”
“My daughter Samantha,” said Tott, his voice breaking with emotion.
“Ah.”
After a deferential pause, Wigfull added, “Which is why we are so concerned.”
“You’d be concerned whoever it was,” Diamond snapped back at him. “Wouldn’t you, John?”
Tott glossed over any embarrassment Wigfull may have felt by saying, “She is a musician. She trained at the Menuhin School.”
“A stunningly attractive young woman,” said Wigfull.
“Is that significant?” said Diamond with a glance toward Julie, who might agree that sexism had just reared its head.
“Yes, it is significant,” said Tott. “Everyone remarks how lovely she is, and if that sounds like a doting father speaking, so be it. About five weeks ago, the Daily Express magazine section ran a feature about talented musicians forced by the recession to work as street entertainers. A picture was published of Sam playing her violin in Abbey Churchyard, outside the Pump Room. I’m sure her looks must have influenced the picture editor. Unfortunately the text mentioned that she was the daughter of the Assistant Chief Constable. We assume that Mountjoy saw the paper in prison.”
“How long has she been missing?”
Wigfull answered, “Since Saturday evening.”
“Officially missing, I mean.”
Tott coughed and said, “Sam is rather a law unto herself. We didn’t take her absence seriously until this arrived.”
“This doesn’t mention her by name.”
Wigfull said, “There are no fresh reports of missing girls. And the message takes it as read that we know who she is.”
“How old is your daughter, Mr. Tott?”
“Twenty-two.”
“How would she bear up under this kind of ordeal?”
“She is pretty strong.” Tott’s mouth twitched. “But there are limits.”
Diamond pressed his hands against the edge of the table and drew back. The role of interrogator was tempting him. He examined the slip of paper again as if he needed to confirm what was written there. “Why me?”
“You put him away,” said Wigfull. “He’s been in Albany all this time. He isn’t to know that you quit two years ago.”
“Yes, but what does he want from me?”
Tott said, “I believe he protested his innocence at the time.”
“Who doesn’t at the time?” said Diamond. “He was guilty. The man has a history of violence to women.” He turned to Tott. “I’m sorry, but we all know this to be a fact.”
Tott nodded and closed his eyes.
Wigfull said, “By coming here instead of holing up somewhere, he’s taking a big risk. We think he must want to bargain with you.”
“Bargain over what? I can’t help him. I couldn’t help him if I was still on the strength. I’m not the Home Secretary. It’s gone through the courts, for heaven’s sake.”
Wigfull said, “Peter, with respect I think you’re missing the point.”
