This once-grand street built on a knee-straining slope has a strong literary tradition, home at some point to Jane Austen, Tobias Smollett and Mrs Piozzi, the friend of Dr Johnson. Diamond was on the trail of a less exalted connection. He had a recollection of some information that he scarcely dared hope to confirm: not literary, but commercial. First he had to find the premises of Better Let, the renting agency. It was on the right, almost opposite the George Street turn. A recently cleaned building. Some attempt had been made to display photos of flat interiors at the windows, but it was still essentially residential in appearance. All these houses were protected from the modernisers and developers.
The only other clue to its business use was a plaque on the wall by the door – something about rented accommodation. Peter Diamond didn’t bother to read it. His attention was wholly taken by the distinctly superior brass plaque above the Better Let notice:
Guy Treadwell ARIBA
Chartered Architect
Emma Treadwell FRICS
Chartered Surveyor
His memory was accurate, then. They did have an office in Gay Street, and as far as he was concerned, it couldn’t have been at a more interesting address.
Part Four. Upon a Dark Night
Thirty
Peter Diamond was not built for jogging, nor fast walking, but he covered the distance to Manvers Street in a sensational time by his standards. His brain was getting through some work, too, putting together the case that buried Emma Treadwell up to her neck in guilt. The descriptions of ‘Doreen Jenkins’ from Ada, Imogen Starr and the taxi driver all matched Emma’s solid appearance and svelte grooming; and now he had the damning fact that the Treadwells’ office was in the same building as Better Let. How easy to help herself to the keys to vacant furnished flats.
He called Julie at home.
‘Can you get here fast? I’m about to nick the Treadwells. I want you on board.’
She didn’t take it in fully.
‘They’re the link to Rose.’ He went on to explain why in a few crisp sentences.
The dependable Julie said she would come directly.
What a wimp of a young man, Diamond thought. It was almost eleven when Guy Treadwell, in silk dressing- gown and slippers, opened the door and saw the outsize detective with Julie and two uniformed officers beside him. Treadwell’s hand went to his goatee beard and gripped it like an insecure child reaching for its mother.
‘What is this?’
‘Shall we discuss it inside?’
‘If it’s about the damage to the car, I think you want our neighbours, the Allardyces.’
‘No, Mr Treadwell, this concerns your wife. Is she at home?’
He stared. ‘You’d better come in.’
Diamond gestured to the two officers to wait in the hall. He and Julie followed Treadwell into the living- room.
‘Your wife,’ Diamond prompted him.
‘She isn’t here. I’m expecting her soon. She went out. Some meeting or other.’
Diamond turned immediately to Julie. ‘Tell the lads to move the cars away, or she’ll take fright and do a runner.’
Treadwell looked in danger of bursting blood vessels. ‘What on earth is going on?’
‘I have some questions for your wife, sir. And for you, too.’
‘About what?’
‘You might like to get some clothes on. I intend to do this at the police station. You’ll come voluntarily, won’t you?’
Horrified, Treadwell mouthed the words ‘police station’. ‘Are you seriously proposing to arrest us?’
‘Didn’t you hear? This will be voluntary on your part.’
‘We’ve done nothing unlawful.’
‘No problem, then. Shall we go upstairs? If you don’t mind, I’ll stay with you while you put your clothes on.’
Speechless, shaking his head, Treadwell led Diamond to the bathroom on the first floor where his day clothes were hanging behind the door. Diamond waited discreetly on the other side holding it open with his foot.
‘I don’t see the necessity of this,’ the voice in the bathroom started to protest more strongly. ‘Coming at night without warning. It’s like living in a fascist state.’
Diamond chose not to tangle with him over that. In a few minutes the young man came out fully attired. Some of his bluster had returned now that his bow-tie was back in place. ‘I can’t imagine what this pantomime is about, but I tell you, officer, you’re making a mistake you may regret. I need my glasses.’ With Diamond dogging him, he crossed the passage to the bedroom opposite, where a single bed and a single wardrobe made their own statement about the marriage. The half-glasses were on a chest of drawers. He looped the cord over his head and looked ready to play the professor in a college production of
On the way downstairs Diamond asked him if his wife made a habit of coming in late.
He said defiantly, ‘There’s no law against it.’
‘That wasn’t what I asked.’
‘We’re grown-ups. I don’t insist that she’s home by ten.’
‘Was she out last night and the night before?’
‘There’s plenty to do in Bath. Emma belongs to things, she has friends, she doesn’t want to sit at home each evening watching television.’
‘So the answer is “Yes”?’
‘Haven’t I made that clear?’A direct answer seemed impossible to achieve.
They joined Julie in the living-room. While they waited for Emma, Diamond interested himself in the glass- fronted antique bookcase. Two shelves were filled with bound volumes of the
‘You’re seriously into all this, Mr Treadwell?’
‘The books? I got those for next to nothing at a sale. I don’t have the time to be serious.’
‘I remember someone telling me you’re a whizz at digging up relics.’
‘They were exaggerating.’
‘I’m sure. We were talking about this good luck you seem to be favoured with. If the truth were told, you have to know a bit about the site before you know where to dig. Isn’t that so?’
‘It helps.’
‘It’s like the cards. They call you lucky, but you have to know how to play the hand as well.’
‘That is certainly true.’
He was clearly reassured by Diamond’s change of tone. Then they heard the front door being opened. Treadwell grasped the arms of his chair, but Diamond put out a restraining hand. Instead, he gestured to Julie, who stepped into the hall to explain to Emma Treadwell why there would be no need to take her coat off.
