Diamond matily, using his Christian name, waving him towards the black leather settee under the window. As if utterly to remove all apprehension that a reprimand was in prospect, the Assistant Chief Constable got up, went to the door and asked for coffee and biscuits to be sent in. Then he perched himself on the arm at the far end of the settee with arms folded, looking – with his parted hair, flat to the scalp, and Guards' officer moustache – as if he were posing for an Edwardian photograph.
All this forced informality had a dispiriting effect on Diamond. The last time anyone had treated him with such a show of consideration was on a tragic occasion, when a doctor had given him the news that his wife had miscarried.
'Sorry to have messed up your arrangements,' Mr Tott said, managing to sound completely sincere, 'but it was necessary to see you at the earliest opportunity. How's the murder inquiry going, by the way?'
That 'by the way' was another jolt, for it implied that a matter quite different to the Jackman case was up for discussion. Diamond mouthed the next few responses while making a rapid mental adjustment. 'We identified the woman last night, sir. Perhaps you heard.'
'A television actress – is that right?'
'Yes, sir. She was married to the Professor of English up at Claverton.'
Mr Tott grinned amiably. 'So I heard. Better brush up on your Shakespeare, Peter.' He paused, unfolded his arms and said, 'And I'd better come to the point. Over there on the desk is an advance copy of the report on the Missendale Inquiry.'
Diamond had read the signal right.
'I see.' The bland response was the best he could manage after striving to suppress his troubled feelings for so long. More than eight months had passed since he had appeared before the board of inquiry – and more than two years since Hedley Missendale had been released on the orders of the Home Secretary and recommended for a pardon. A false confession, a wrongful imprisonment. Sections of the press had drummed the story up into a hate campaign against 'rogue policemen', with accusations of racism and brutality. A campaign targeted on Chief Superintendent Blaize and Diamond. Jacob Blaize had been hounded into ill-health and early retirement, which the press had maliciously and without justification written up as confirmation of their smears.
'I thought you should cast an eye over it as soon as possible,' Mr Tott said. 'You'll be relieved to know that none of the wilder accusations was shown to have any foundation.'
Diamond looked towards the desk. 'May I…?'
'May 'Go ahead. That's why you're here.'
Numbly, he got up, crossed the room and picked up the report.
'The main findings are towards the end, of course,' said Mr Tott. 'You'll find the paragraphs from Page 87 onwards are of personal interest. Take your time.'
Diamond flicked through and found the summary of the findings. His name sprang out of the text. He scanned the page swiftly, getting the gist of the comments. 'We found no evidence of racial bias on the part of Detective Chief Inspector Diamond… This officer acquitted himself impressively under intensive questioning… As to Missendale's statement, there was nothing in it that conflicted with the evidence… It was reasonable for Chief Inspector Diamond to deduce, as the court did, that Missendale's statement was supported by the facts.'
He turned the page, feeling curiously unmoved rather than vindicated after the months of abuse from the media. Then his eyes fixed on a sentence.
'Christ Almighty!'
Mr Tott had returned to his chair. 'What's wrong?'
' 'We are bound to state that Chief Inspector Diamond's physical presence and forceful demeanour must have appeared intimidating to Missendale,' ' Diamond read out. 'That's out of order. I'm built that way. I can't help the way I'm made.'
'Yes, it's unfair,' Mr Tott agreed in a tone that attached no importance to the matter.
But Diamond wasn't willing to let it pass. 'Sir, there was no intimidation used to obtain the confession. The judge established at the trial that there was no oppression.'
'Of course, but the inquiry team was charged to re-examine everything.'
Diamond's eyes were already moving on. 'I just don't believe this! 'We view with concern the fact that hair samples from the woollen hat snatched from the assailant in the struggle were not compared with hairs from Mr Missendale.' '
'What's the problem?' Mr Tott asked.
'We sent the hat to the lab.'
'But you didn't follow it up, if I understand this correctly. You didn't take hair samples from Missendale.'
'Sir, the man confessed.'
'It would still have been sensible to do so.'
Diamond stared at him in amazement. 'To what end, exactly?'
'As a comparison.'
'This was 1985, sir. Before genetic fingerprinting came in. Even if we had followed up, forensic couldn't have told us whether the hairs in the hat were Missendale's, or Sammy Davis Junior's. This report implies that if the samples had been compared, Missendale's innocence would have been established, but it simply isn't true.'
'The report doesn't go so far as to say that.'
' 'We view with concern'…? It's suggesting somebody was at fault.'
Mr Tott said firmly, 'The point is that it should have been done routinely. Nobody is accusing you of withholding evidence.'
'They're accusing Jacob Blaize and me of fitting him up.'
'Oh, don't be so melodramatic, man! If that were the case, you'd be out of a job. Your integrity isn't in question.'
Diamond knew that he should have shut up at this point. He still felt aggrieved. 'I told them at the inquiry what must have happened and they seem to have disregarded it. Missendale was fitted up, but not by me. He was a petty thief with a record, not much good at it. He had a low IQ. There were bigger operators in the background, too smart to be caught. It's obvious with hindsight that Missendale was their fall-guy. They wanted the other character, the guy who actually gunned down the sergeant-major, to keep pulling the jobs, so they made it clear to Missendale that if he didn't fake a confession, they'd wipe him out. He was safer in the nick. He had no future on the outside.'
Mr Tott nodded. 'I'll take your word for it. Organized crime is behind so much of our casework these days. But this sort of theorizing falls outside the scope of the inquiry. They were looking at the particular circumstances in which the miscarriage of justice was perpetrated.'
Diamond heard himself saying, 'I'm far from satisfied.'
'In a report that runs to over a hundred pages, it would be surprising if anyone was satisfied with all that it contains. I think you'll find that this lays the whole wretched business to rest. The media won't be interested in the points that seem to be exercising you.'
'But I don't believe it wipes the slate clean.'
'I think I hear the chink of cups,' said Mr Tott.
Diamond waited while the coffee was poured in genteel fashion from a chrome and glass container. When they were alone again, he said, I'd like to ask what effect this will have on my career with Avon and Somerset, sir.'
'None at all,' said Mr Tott, and the voice was metallic in its positiveness. 'What happened four years ago in London is history.'
'Plenty of mud has been slung my way since then.'
'Yes, and none of it has stuck.'
'But you won't deny that you clipped my wings?'
Mr Tott stirred his coffee and said nothing. It was transparently obvious that this was a reference to the replacement of Billy Murray by John Wigfull, the headquarters man.
'I'm not beefing about that. From your point of view it was a reasonable precaution after the Missendale thing blew up,' Diamond conceded. 'But I had a right to expect that this report would vindicate me, and I don't believe it has, not completely.'
'If it makes you just a little more punctilious about procedures, it won't be entirely wasted, Peter. You must
