Shelley, as she calls it. Yeah, that's the way Donna saw it. She felt neglected. When I went back to the antiques store on Thursday evening, Donna went looking for sympathy. She knocked on the door of some people we met here, a Swiss couple, the Hack-steiners. They had the best suite in the hotel and they took pity. They let Donna spend the night in a spare bed in their suite. The next day she picked her moment to leave the place without being seen and travelled to France with them.'
'Without luggage?'
'It's only a train ride.'
'Passport?'
'She has it with her. And credit cards.' He gave the long suffering smile one man shares with another when talking about the ways of women. 'She wants one more day in Paris. Not many shops are open Sundays over there.'
'Why didn't she get in touch before this?'
Joe shrugged. 'To pay me out, I guess. I'm so happy to know she's alive and well that I didn't ask her.'
'You're positive it was your wife?'
'Are you kidding? I know that voice. In twenty-four years I've heard plenty of it.'
Heart-warming news, apparently. Diamond was not convinced. He would not believe until he had seen Donna himself. It was all so convenient just when the heat was on Joe. He couldn't produce her because she was in another country.
'So when is she coming back to Bath?'
'She won't. I'll travel out there tomorrow.'
Like hell you will, Diamond thought. Suspicion of Joe was driving him now, just as it had driven Wigfull. 'Let's talk about yesterday. How did you spend the afternoon and evening?'
Joe's manner changed abruptly. He drew back in the chair, gripping the arms. 'Hey, what is this? More dumb questions? I've taken more than my share from you guys in the past two days. I'm going to get onto my embassy if you don't let up. Police intimidation. We don't take that stuff.'
'It's not intimidation, professor.'
'And what if I refuse to answer?'
'Why should you?'
'Because I'm sick of your questions, that's why. You had co-operation from me all the way, you and that other cop with the mustache. You tell me something: who identified the woman who was found in the river? I did. I'm supposed to be on vacation, not looking at dead bodies. The other evening your people searched my room, treating me like a goddam criminal. I'm standing in my boxer shorts, the Dodge Professor of English, watching two cops go through my possessions.'
'Who was that-Chief Inspector Wigfull?'
'With the mustache.'
'This was when-Friday?'
Joe nodded. 'They didn't find a thing.'
'Do you know what they were looking for?'
'You'd better ask the mustache.'
'I can't,' said Diamond. 'John Wigfull is lying unconscious in hospital. Somebody caved his head in.'
Joe was silent for a time. 'And you're thinking I'm the somebody?'
'It will help us to know your movements yesterday, sir.'
Joe flushed. 'I'm not a violent man. I'm an academic, for God's sake.' His outraged innocence was worth an Oscar nomination if he was acting.
'Yesterday afternoon?' Diamond pressed him, while Leaman waited with notebook open.
With a sigh, Joe capitulated. 'What was yesterday… Saturday? I went around the hotels, asking about Donna. It was a long shot, but I wanted to satisfy myself that she wasn't still in Bath. I carry a picture of her and I showed it to the reception people, concierges, bellmen, anyone I could.'
'Which hotels?'
'You name it. The Hilton, the Francis, the Bath Spa. You can check. They'll remember me.'
'That was in the afternoon?'
'All day, from eleven on.'
'Until…?'
'Until my feet cried out for mercy. Do you have any idea how many hotels there are? I got back around five, I guess. Sat in the bath tub for a long time. Had a meal on room service. Watched television until I was falling asleep in the chair.'
'Make any phone calls?'
He shook his head.
'Did you see Chief Inspector Wigfull at any stage yesterday?'
'You don't give up, do you? No, I did not.'
'And now you're proposing to leave Bath and join your wife in Paris?'
'Tomorrow. You don't have to sound so grudging. I'm a free agent.'
'Where is she staying?'
'The Ritz. Donna doesn't do things by halves.'
'Have you made your travel arrangements?'
'Sure. I'm catching the 10.28 to London tomorrow morning. I booked a seat on the Eurostar train.'
'Without Mary Shelley's writing box?'
He rolled his eyes upwards. 'Don't break my heart. I wish I knew what happened to that.'
Before leaving the hotel, Diamond checked on room service to the John Wood suite. An evening meal of asparagus soup, sole
'He'd need transport, sir.'
'There and back. Don't say it-the logistics are difficult. If we knew for sure when the attack took place, it would help. My feeling is that it happened in daylight. Wigfull would know there isn't much point in chasing a wanted man across fields after dark.'
'Maybe the house-to-house will turn something up,' Leaman said.
'Maybe.' Diamond hadn't much confidence.
Wiltshire Police were at present knocking on doors to find a witness who had seen someone on the footpath over the fields, or noticed the cars outside the Manor House. There was also a large search-party combing the fields for the weapon used on Wigfull. They had to try.
They returned to Manvers Street, where the police station was like a prison before an execution. The only news of John Wigfull was that he was still unconscious, his condition critical.
AT THE time Avon and Somerset Police acquired their helicopter, Diamond was heard to say it was an expensive toy that he would never use. Like many of his stands against technology, this one was fated to be undermined. Strapped into the seat, staring fixedly ahead, he was being flown over the great expanse of Salisbury Plain towards the South Coast. Privileged views of the ancient sites of Stonehenge and Avebury passed unnoticed. He did not enjoy the sensation of flying.
They touched down on the lawn in front of Montpelier Crescent, Brighton, the address of Ralph Pennycook, the young man who had sold antiques to Peg Redbird on the day of her murder. The journey was done in under an hour. When Diamond looked about him, after stepping down and battling with the draught created by the rotor blades, he had the strange sensation that he had never left Bath. The neo-classical facade of the crescent was, if anything, grander in scale. Each large house with its own pillars and pediment might have been the front of a theatre.
Helicopter travel is convenient, certainly, but not discreet. People had opened their doors to watch and children were running across the grass towards the chopper. 'After this puppet-show, let's hope he's at home,' Diamond muttered to Sergeant Leaman.
He was-already at the front door-and their mode of travel had impressed him markedly. His hand was at his throat, pinching at a fold of loose skin, and his eyes behind the plastic lenses had the staring roundness of a
