There was a glint in Diamond's eye. Georgina had made a telling point. 'You're assuming Somerset killed her?'
'He was the last to see her alive, wasn't he?'
'True.'
'Then he's got to be in the frame.'
'Yes, but what's his motive? Anger at being jilted?'
Georgina smiled. 'I do believe you're a romantic, Peter. No, I don't think he'd kill her for that. The motive is theft. That writing box had been revealed as valuable, and so had the watercolours from Camden Crescent. He was in on the secret, but he wasn't getting a share of the loot.'
He let Georgina's theory shake down with his own.
'Have you got a piece of paper, ma'am?'
'Paper? What for?'
'I'd like to show you something.'
'Will this do?' She handed him the pad she kept by the phone.
'This is my shopping-list,' he explained, while he was writing.
He slid the pad back across the big desk. 'Her visitors that evening.'
She studied what he had written:
The ACC examined the list for some time. 'This 'X' is the mysterious art fancier, if we believe in his existence?'
'Yes.'
'And you believe Pennycook visited her after Somerset?'
'Can I tell you why? He's hopeless about times, but I did establish that it was dark when he called at the shop for his money. That's after 8.30 this time of year. She was alone, then, so Somerset had left. The watercolours were stacked on the safe, so we know he'd already delivered them.'
'That makes sense,' she admitted.
'By the time Dougan arrived at 9.30, Peg was no longer there, if he's speaking the truth. She could have been dead.'
'You're telling me now that Pennycook was the last to see Miss Redbird alive?'
'Pennycook, or X. Pennycook didn't stay long. She handed him the money, he counted it and left. He said she wasn't talkative. She seemed to want to get rid of him.'
'When exactly did Pennycook leave?'
He spread his hands.
'But he'd gone by 9.30, when Dougan arrived?'
'That's my reading of it.'
'He'd left, and so had Miss Redbird, apparently. Yet you have X, the mystery man, slotted in between Pennycook and Dougan. That's impossible, isn't it? The time is too short.'
'No, ma'am, I don't think it is. The way I see it, she finished with Pennycook as quickly as she could and went for her meeting with X. She wasn't seen again.'
'She went out?'
'Taking the pictures she intended to sell.'
The ACC scrutinised the list again. 'Why would she have gone out when she knew Dougan was coming back?'
'She didn't know how soon. She may have thought she was safe for a couple of hours.'
She put her hand nervously to her tight-curled silver hair as if to check that it was still there. 'Do you have a theory who X might be?'
'Yes, I do, ma'am. Someone with a special interest in early English watercolours. Councillor Sturr.'
Sharply, she said, 'What do you know about John Sturr's interests?'
The remark hit him hard. In Georgina's eyes, he was a yob who knew sod all about art. She wasn't far wrong, but he didn't like it taken for granted. 'He showed me some of his pictures at the Victoria Gallery last week.'
'Showed you? Personally?'
Nonchalantly he said, 'A private view. Not the most exciting stuff I've seen. He claims to have one of the best private collections in the country, as I'm sure you know. If I were selling a couple of Blakes locally, that's who I'd approach.'
The muscles at the side of her face tightened. 'This is not a good way to go, Peter.'
'I know.' He left unsaid his determination to go on, regardless. She could see it in his look.
She said, 'You're not seriously suggesting a member of the Police Authority is implicated in these events?'
'I'd like to know if Mr Sturr was in communication with Peg Redbird last Thursday.'
'But he spent last Thursday evening at my house. The dinner party I gave. You know that.'
'Would you mind telling me precisely when he arrived, ma'am?'
'But you know.'
'I turned up late, if you remember.'
White-faced, she said, 'This is absurd. I invited everyone at seven-thirty for eight, and he was there. It must have been after ten-thirty when he left with Ingeborg Smith. Yes, I'm sure of it. After we looked at your interview on
'He didn't leave the party at any point and return later?'
'Don't be ridiculous, superintendent. Let it rest, will you?'
Staunchly, Diamond said, 'I still need to speak to him, ma'am.'
'John Sturr's integrity is not in doubt. He has an alibi supplied by me. That's enough.'
He let a few seconds pass, inviting her to modify the last statement. She did not.
'Ma'am, if there is someone else in Bath well known as a collector of early nineteenth century watercolours, I'll be glad to have the name. I'll see them first thing tomorrow.'
She clutched at that. She was as uncomfortable as Diamond. 'I'm sure there are several serious collectors in a city like ours.'
Diamond nodded. 'I don't know who they are. The only name I have is John Sturr. That's who Ellis Somerset thought of. He didn't name anyone else.' He let that take root, then said, 'Councillor Sturr and I have an understanding. I can handle him civilly.'
'No.'
'Would you prefer to question him yourself, ma'am?'
She didn't dignify that with an answer.
He said in a measured, unemotional voice, 'Ma'am, this morning when we got the news of John Wigfull you asked me to take over, to give it top priority.'
'Finding his attacker, yes. If you think John Sturr is the kind of man who bludgeons police inspectors…'
'This is the way I'm working. If I can't proceed-'
She blurted out, 'I've vouched for him personally. Isn't that enough for you?'
'You vouched for his presence at your dinner party. You don't know what went on before and after it.'
'God, you don't give up.'
He waited.
She got up and walked to the window, twisting a handkerchief into a thin cord and wrapping it tightly around her fingers. 'When do you propose to see him?'
'Now.'
She winced, but she had given up the struggle. 'The questions relate to the possible sale of the pictures from Camden Crescent?'
'Yes, ma'am, and his movements.'
She reached for the phone. 'Then I'll call him and soften the blow-if I can.'
twenty-five
