through gritted teeth. He supposed she felt put upon.
But outside the interview room, Julie had more than that to take up with him. ‘You won’t like this, but I’m going to say it. I don’t think we can justify holding her.’
‘Have a care,’ he warned. ‘This has been a long day.’
‘It’s a house of cards, isn’t it? The case against Rose isn’t proved yet, and now you’re pulling this woman in as an accessory.’
‘She’s obstructing us, Julie.’
‘All you’ve got is the fact that she works above the agency.’
‘She matches the descriptions of Jenkins: mid to late twenties, sturdy build, with dark, long hair, posh voice.’
She sighed and said, ‘I could find you five hundred women like that in Bath.’
‘Carry on in this vein, Julie, and I may take you up on that.
We may need an identity parade. She’ll go on ducking and weaving until someone fingers her.’
‘Who would do that? Ada?’
‘The husband is worth trying first. He’s brittle.’
‘But how much does he know?’
‘Let’s see.’
In the second interview room, Guy Treadwell had discarded the newspaper and shredded the coffee cup into strips. He told Diamond as he entered, ‘You’ve got a damned nerve keeping me here like this.’
‘Yes.’
‘You haven’t even told me what it’s about. I have some rights, I believe.’
‘Let’s talk about your business as an architect,’ Diamond said.
‘My practice,’ he amended it.
‘You’re in Gay Street, above Better Let.’
‘Yes.’
‘They’re a renting agency, am I right?’
Treadwell’s eyes widened. He said with a note of relief, ‘Are they the problem?’
‘Is there independent access to your office, or do you go through their premises to get to yours?’
‘We share a staircase, that’s all.’
‘I expect you know the people reasonably well?’
‘We’re on friendly terms.’
‘Friendly enough to go into their office for a chat sometimes, coffee and biscuits, catch up on the gossip or whatever?’
‘Very occasionally, if something of mutual interest crops up, I may go down and speak to the manager.’
So pompous. He was half Diamond’s age, yet he made the big man feel like a kid out of school. ‘Good. You can help me, then. You know the layout. What do they do with their keys – the keys to the flats they have to let?’
‘They hang them up in a glass-fronted case attached to the end wall.’
‘Does it have a lock?’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea.’
‘I suppose they wouldn’t need to keep it locked while the office is occupied,’ Diamond mused. ‘And your wife – is she on good terms with the Better Let people?’
‘Reasonably good.’
‘Nips down for a chat with the girls in the office?’
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘Emma is a Chartered Surveyor. She doesn’t fritter away her time with office girls.’
Diamond was forced to accept it, put like that. Trapped in his middle-aged perspective of the young, he’d lumped Mrs Treadwell with the legion of women from eighteen to thirty, forgetting that they had a hierarchy of their own. ‘Tell me something else,’ he started up again. ‘I came past your office building tonight. I noticed you have a security alarm.’
‘Of course.’
‘Sensible. I imagine that’s a shared facility.’
‘Yes.’
‘So how does it work? A control panel somewhere inside with a code number you enter if you want to override the system?’
Treadwell nodded.
‘Where’s the control panel housed? Not in the hall, I imagine?’
‘Inside the Better Let premises. I have a key to their office for access purposes.’
‘Exactly what I was about to ask. You keep the key where?’
‘On a ring, in my pocket.’ He took it out and showed Diamond.
‘And does your wife have a key to Better Let for the same reason?’
‘Yes, in case one of us is away. Those alarms have a habit of going off at the most inconvenient times.’
‘I know, sir,’ said Diamond, with a glance at Julie, cock-a-hoop that one of his theories had worked out. ‘There you are, you or Emma, working late, and the darned thing goes off for no reason, disturbing the pigeons and all the old ladies within earshot. But happily you’re safe in the knowledge that either one of you can deal with it. You can get into the Better Let office at times when they aren’t there.’
Guy Treadwell looked at him blankly.
Diamond explained about the basement flat in St James’s Square and the suspicion that Emma had taken the missing woman Christine Gladstone there. ‘She can let herself into Better Let whenever she wants. She could have picked up the keys to this empty flat and used it, you see.’
Treadwell shook his head. ‘Emma isn’t stupid, you know. She wouldn’t risk her career. She doesn’t even know this woman. You’re way off beam here.’
The force of the denial tested even Diamond’s confidence. Surely Treadwell was implicated if Emma was. What else had he thought she was doing on her evenings out? Highland dancing?
‘I’m keeping her here overnight for an identity parade tomorrow.’
‘Do you mean she’s under arrest?’
Diamond gave a nod. ‘She’ll be comfortable.’
‘This is absurd!’
‘We’re not talking parking offences, Guy. Christine Gladstone is wanted on suspicion of murder. We think your wife knows where she is.’
Treadwell looked away and said bleakly, ‘Are you going to lock me up as well?’
‘You’re free to go. We all need some sleep.’ Diamond leaned back in the chair and stretched his arms. ‘Talking of sleep, I noticed you don’t share a bed with your wife.’
He flushed crimson. ‘Bloody hell, what is this?’
‘Don’t share a bedroom, even.’
‘Our sleeping arrangements are nothing to do with the police.’
‘They are if they provide your wife with an alibi. She’s out most evenings. Gets home late. If she isn’t with Christine Gladstone, who is she with?’
Treadwell stared back, his face drained of colour.
‘I’m still trying to understand her behavior,’ Diamond continued in his reasonable tone. ‘Back at your house you told me she’s got this social life that takes her out in the evenings. Forgive me, but you don’t seem to be part of it. Who are these friends?’
Treadwell leaned forward over the table, covered his face, and said in a broken voice, ‘Sod you. Sod you.’
Diamond lifted an eyebrow at Julie, whose eyes were registering amazement. Then he dealt quite sensitively with Treadwell, before the self-pity turned more ugly. ‘It has to be faced, Guy. Not all marriages work. I’m no agony aunt, but maybe you both entered into it thinking you were an ideal team, the architect and the surveyor. Working out of the same office can be a joy when you’re man and wife, but it can also be a strain.’
