neck and the collar up around his ears, touching his hat brim, indistinguishable from the plainclothes men seen in grainy black and white films of forty years ago. He had bought two portions of fish and chips from the shop at the end of Abbey Gate Street. They waited, wrapped, in his lap. A fine drizzle had blown in from the Bristol Channel and settled over the city. It was so misty that half the Abbey front was invisible. Even the pigeons had abandoned the place, but he was content to be there. This was what it was all about.
He was keeping a close watch on everyone who crossed the paved churchyard. Most were shoppers or tourists. A line of schoolchildren chattering in French approached the West Door and went in. From Stall Street came the opening bars of the Bruch Violin Concerto; the busker played regularly, backed by a taped orchestra. He had done well to find a dry pitch this morning. But he would have done better to have waited a few minutes longer, because the Abbey bells started chiming midday.
'Do we really have to talk here?'
The voice came from behind Diamond. He turned and saw Matthew Didrikson at his shoulder. 'Come and sit down. It's dry under the umbrella, and the fish and chips won't stay warm for ever.'
The boy came around the bench and accepted the packet Diamond handed him. He remained standing.
'At least we can talk in private here,' Diamond said. 'Have you seen your mother?'
'Yesterday evening. Greg took us out for a meal. It's impossible at home with the press and all that.'
'A celebration feast?'
'Not really.' Matthew stared down at the pavement, frowning. 'Greg's going to America.'
'Yes, I heard.'
'He wants my ma to go with him and bring me, too.'
Diamond asked straightforwardly, 'Did you tell them you killed Mrs Jackman?'
Matthew caught his breath and shivered. He continued to look downwards. Today the child in him was more obvious than the man.
'You should.'
'I can't.'
'Why not?'
'It's too much.'
'You mean after everything she's been through?'
Matthew gave a nod.
'I believe she knows,' said Diamond. That's why the acquittal left her unmoved. In her heart of hearts she has a sense of what really happened, Mat. And she's staying silent because she's your own mother and she loves you. But she knows the truth has to come out, and she'd rather hear it from you than someone like me.'
The boy was scanning Diamond's face to satisfy himself that the words were totally sincere. 'Are you going to tell?' A playground phrase.
'I will if necessary.'
His frankness measured up to the scrutiny, because Mat said, 'I'll speak to her.' He looked away, at a child crossing the yard on a BMX bike. 'Will I go to prison?'
'Not prison. You're under age.'
'Will there be a trial, like my mother had?'
'Probably.' This wasn't the time to speculate on the problems the judicial system faced in dealing with a twelve-year-old accused of murder. Nor was it useful to explain what detention during Her Majesty's Pleasure would really amount to. 'Want to sit down?'
This time Matthew accepted. He had to sit close to Diamond to get under his umbrella. There was moisture at the edges of his eyes. 'I didn't mean to kill her. When I went to the house, I only meant to find those letters. I knew she must have taken them just to spoil everything.'
'Why don't you tell me about it from the beginning? That Monday morning your mother had a call from Professor Jackman to say the letters were missing.'
'She was really upset. I could tell how angry she was, and I was angry, too. Mrs Jackman was a wicked woman. I hated her. She called my ma some horrible things and it was only because of her that I couldn't go swimming with Greg any more. He didn't want it to stop. He'd been really kind to me. He saved my life when I fell in the weir. Greg wasn't using me as some kind of worm on a hook, like she said, just because he fancied my ma, or something. He was…'
'Like a father?'
'Yes.' Then Matthew rapidly added, 'I still love my real father.'
The 'real' father who preferred playing chess, who hadn't bothered to come to England for the trial. The reality was that the father had rejected his son. Matthew's blind loyalty suppressed a terrible, deadly despair.
'What happened on that Monday morning?'
'When Ma was driving me to school I could see she was all screwed up about those letters. I decided to try and get them back from Mrs Jackman. On the first day of term, we always have to hang around the vestry for hours while they issue us with clean robes. They're too busy with the little kids to bother with us older boys. You can go off round the shops and nobody gives a monkey's. I went up to Bathwick Hill on a minibus. I knew the house, of course. I thought I might find a window open somewhere, but it was easier than that, because the back door was open. I just turned the handle and walked in. Nobody was about. I crept upstairs and found her bedroom. She was in there, still asleep. I wanted to look for the letters, but I was afraid she might wake up and catch me.'
'Did she wake?'
'Not until I lifted the duvet over her face. She was lying on her back and I pulled it up to cover her eyes. I don't think I would have killed her if she'd stayed asleep. She moved, and I pressed the duvet down. She struggled, but it was no good because her arms were trapped under the quilt. The more she struggled, the harder I pressed. I was kneeling on her. I was angry and frightened at the same time. I didn't panic, exactly, only I didn't want her to wake up and find me there, so I kept on pressing and pressing down on her face until she went still. I was even more scared then, when I knew what I'd done. I pulled the quilt down again and uncovered her face. I knew she was dead. I didn't stop to look for the letters, or anything. I just ran out.'
'Caught the bus back to Bath?'
'Yes.'
'Later on, when you heard that the body had been found in the lake, you must have been amazed.'
'Yes.'
'What did you think had happened?'
'First, I thought Greg must have found her in the bedroom and moved her, to make it look as if she killed herself. Later, I believed my mother put her in the lake. They said her own car was used. I didn't know what to do. If I owned up, I could get my ma into trouble. That day you came to'our house and she tried to run away, and you caught her, I didn't really have concussion. I thought you might have to release her if I was taken to hospital.' might have to release her if I was taken to Diamond gave a nod and said nothing.
'I'm sorry you lost your job because of me,' said Matthew.
'Forget it,' Diamond told him. 'You probably saved my life by getting help as quickly as you did after Andy Coventry brained me in the Baths. That could have been permanent. Eat up your fish and chips.'
In the silence, Diamond weighed the significance of what Matthew had told him. The Crown Prosecution Service would have a real problem deciding the sensible way to deal with this. In reality, it would save everyone a headache if Jackman and Dana flew off to America and took the boy with them. There was no extradition of minors.
As if he read the thought, Matthew said, 'I want to own up properly. If I go to the police, would you come with me?'
'Sure.'
'First I want to tell Ma.'
'Okay.'
'What do you think she'll do?'
'I don't think she'll be in any hurry to go to America.'
'And Greg?'
'It wouldn't surprise me if he changes his plans when he hears what you have to say.'
They finished their lunch and got up to leave. Diamond rested a hand lightly on the boy's shoulder. Ahead,
