Emma reacted more coolly than her husband had. ‘It’s a little late in the evening for all this, isn’t it?’
She was still composed in the interview room at the police station. She had spent the evening, she claimed, with a woman friend. No, she could not possibly divulge the friend’s name. The poor woman was going through a personal crisis. To pass on her name to the police would be like a betrayal, certain to undo any good she had been able to achieve.
Not bad, young Emma, Diamond thought, not bad at all.
And Julie was thinking that this was the most casual Emma had looked. The baggy sweater and jeans, and the fine, dark hair looking as if it could do with a brushing, supported the story. You don’t get dolled up to visit a distressed friend.
Diamond asked, ‘Is your friend in trouble with the police?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘We only want her to vouch for you.’
She raked some wayward hair from her face, smiled, and said, ‘What am I supposed to have done? Pinched the Crown Jewels?’
‘We just want it confirmed where you were.’
‘At this moment, her situation matters more to me than my own.’
‘You’ve spent a lot of time with her lately, haven’t you?’
Emma had no way of knowing how much her husband had already divulged. Guy Treadwell was seated in another room with a copy of the
‘This woman: is she local?’
‘Look, I don’t want to be obstructive, but haven’t I already made clear why I can’t tell you anything about her?’
Reasonable as she appeared to be, she was rapidly sacrificing any rapport with Diamond. What Ada called the lah-de-dah voice grated on him. No doubt she could keep stonewalling
‘Yes.’
‘Above the agency that lets flats. Better Let, isn’t it?’
She nodded.
‘Obviously, you’re on good terms with the people in Better Let. Is there a business tie-in?’
‘Do you mean are we connected with them? No.’
‘You understand why I’m asking this?’
She said without even blinking, ‘No, I don’t.’
‘One of their flats, a furnished basement in St James’s Square, was used by two women a couple of weeks ago. An unofficial arrangement. The place is supposed to be vacant. The women must have acquired a set of keys. There was no break-in.’
The pause that followed didn’t appear to unnerve Emma Treadwell.
‘One of the women fitted your description,’ Diamond resumed. ‘The other is called Christine Gladstone, known to some people as Rose, or Rosamund Black. She was in the care of Avon Social Services until recently, suffering from some form of amnesia. Do you have any comment?’
She said as though the subject bored her, ‘I did see something in the local paper about a woman who lost her memory.’
‘She was seen in the company of this woman who’s a dead ringer for you. We have three independent witnesses. We can hold an identity parade in the morning if you insist on denying that it’s you.’
‘All right,’ she said, still without betraying the least concern in her still, brown eyes. ‘Let’s do that. May I go home now?’
As neat a hand-off as he’d met, and he was an ex-rugby forward. ‘You don’t seem to realise how serious this is.’ He found himself falling back on intimidation. ‘It isn’t just a matter of illegally occupying a flat. Christine Gladstone is under suspicion of murder – the killing of an old man – her own father – at Tormarton a few weeks ago. If you’ve been harbouring her, this makes you an accessory.’ He watched for her reaction and it was negligible.
‘So?’
‘If there’s another explanation, now is not a bad time to give it.’
Her response was to look up at the ceiling.
He said, ‘I can arrest you and detain you here until we get that identification.’
‘That sounds like a threat.’
He paused, and then tossed in casually, ‘Did you get the fuses you were looking for in Rossiter’s?’
She blinked twice. For a fleeting moment her guard seemed to be down. Then she recovered. ‘What did you say?’
‘The fuses. You were seen in Rossiter’s yesterday afternoon asking for electric fuses. They don’t sell them.’
She managed to smile. ‘I know that.’
‘You don’t deny you were there?’
She gave Julie a glance as if to invite contempt for this man’s stupid questions. ‘It must have been someone else, mustn’t it?’
But he was certain he’d hit the mark. ‘You were seen there by Ada Shaftsbury, who was in the same hostel as Christine Gladstone. She recognised you as the woman who presented herself at Harmer House and claimed she was the sister. I really think you ought to consider your position. I can bring Ada in tomorrow morning.’
That look of indifference remained, so he heaped on everything he had.
‘I can bring in Miss Starr, Christine’s social worker. I can bring in the taxi-driver you hired – the one who waited for you and then drove you both to St James’s Square, to the vacant flat that Better Let had the keys for. St James’s Square – that’s just behind the Royal Crescent, isn’t it? Five minutes from where you live?’
Unperturbed, she rose from the chair. ‘Let me know what time you want me tomorrow, then.’
‘You can’t leave.’
‘Why not?’
‘We haven’t finished.’
Still in control, she said, ‘The hell with that. I’m not sitting here any longer, being put through the hoop about things that don’t concern me. I know my rights, Mr Diamond. I’d like to go home now.’
She managed to seem convincing, whatever she had done.
He said – and it sounded like a delaying tactic even to him: ‘We haven’t talked to your husband yet.’
‘That’s your business.’
‘You wouldn’t want to leave without him.’
‘And that’s mine.’
The flip response revealed more than she intended.
‘Working together, as you do, you must see a lot of each other.’
‘So?’
‘Puts a strain on your relationship, I reckon.’
She gave him a glare. ‘You’re getting personal, aren’t you?’
‘From what he was saying, you don’t share many evenings out.’
Nettled now, she said, ‘Oh, for pity’s sake. I’ve heard enough of this garbage.’ She moved to the door, but the constable on duty barred her way. ‘What is this? Tell this woman to let me pass.’
Diamond said in his most reasonable manner, ‘Emma, you may think this is over, but it’s hardly begun. I’m going to have more questions for you presently, after we’ve spoken to your husband.’
‘You can’t keep me here against my will.’
‘We can if we arrest you.’
‘That would be ridiculous.’
He gave her one of his looks. ‘And that’s exactly what I’m about to do. Emma Treadwell, you are under arrest on suspicion of being an accessory after the fact of murder.’ He turned to Julie and asked her to speak the new- fangled version of the caution he’d never had the inclination to learn. She had it off pat, even if she spoke it
