the volatile pop star.
“Temperament,” he said. “She’s hyper. You’d think she was on something, but she hardly ever stops.”
“That would be a problem.”
Barneston looked about him to make sure no one else was close enough to overhear. “You see, this story is going to break in the press any time. I can’t keep the lid on much longer. I was able to hold things down with Axel Summers because he was known to be taking a complete break from his work. And Matt Porter could miss one tournament. But questions are being asked about them both.”
Diamond said, “In that case, you’d better go public right away.”
“Jesus Christ!” Barneston flapped his hand as if swatting away a wasp.
“Face it, Jimmy. You just said the story is about to break. You don’t want it leaking out by degrees. Take control. Call a press conference and tell all.”
He stood as if stunned, his eyes making tiny nervous movements.
Diamond hammered home the message, “What’s the value of secrecy? You can’t rely on safe houses being safe for anyone any more. If Anna Walpurgis is locked away in the country somewhere like this, she’s a sitting duck for the Mariner. He’ll get to her, whatever hi-tech security you have protecting her. And he’ll relish the challenge.”
“Yes, but what’s the alternative? Let her swan around the country-or abroad-inviting a bullet? That’s as good as handing her over to the bastard.”
“Not this guy. He’s a planner. He works everything out, down to the last detail. We’ve seen two examples. The killing of Summers was a blueprint job. He must have done his research, learned his technique with the crossbow, picked his spot in the garden, prepared his sheet of paper with the quote from the poem and the names. Today was the next stage on, even more precision-planned than that. Agreed?”
“Tell me about it!”
“Right. And you may be sure he anticipated that you’d give these people the best protection possible. The classic safe house set-up. By some means or other-let’s set that aside for the moment-he knew in advance that he could get inside the safe house and snatch Matthew Porter. Which he did. So isn’t it a surefire bet that he has a plan drawn up for Miss Walpurgis?”
The worry-lines on Jimmy Barneston’s forehead said it all.
Diamond warmed to his theme. “Do you see what I’m driving at? Up to now, he’s remained ahead of us because he knows we’re an institution that works along predictable lines, as easy to see as a mail train coming up the line. Now, I haven’t met Anna Walpurgis. I haven’t had that pleasure.”
“Plenty have,” murmured Hen.
“OK, she’s a lively lady, not the sort to sit at home every night with her knitting. That could work in her favour. She’ll be safer from the Mariner in the arms of some admirer than she will being guarded by Special Branch in a safe house.”
“Happier, too,” Hen said.
Barneston was still under the cosh. “It’s too big a risk. Huge.”
“Not so huge as leaving her in a safe house,” Diamond said.
“Even if I believed you, it’s not my decision. She’s in the care of SO12. They call the shots.”
“Come off it, Jimmy. They’re in disarray now. After this cock-up, you can seize the initiative. Tell them you’ve lost all confidence in their security-which is true.”
“I’m not sure if I want her on my plate.”
“She is already. When this is over, do you think SO12 are going to put up their hands and say it was their fault?”
Barneston looked away and let out a long, troubled breath. He knew Diamond was right; this was obvious in his expression. He’d carry the can if things went wrong. He’d be the plodding idiot who tried to remove these hapless people from the scene and played right into the Mariner’s hands. He hunched his shoulders and looked down at his vomit-stained shoes. For a while he was silent, brooding over what had been said. Finally he came out with a kind of confession. “I thought I could take this on and win. After what’s happened today I’m not so sure. Listening to you, I think you’ve got a better handle on this case than I have. Your way of thinking is different.”
It was a huge admission. Hen said, to assist him, “It’s easier when you’re not in close. We can see things you can’t.”
He nodded. “I was too close in every sense.”
“Honey, you couldn’t avoid it,” Hen said. “The Mariner named names, so you can’t help meeting the people he targets. You got to know them. You feel responsible in a way we can’t.”
“I like them,” he said. “They have their downside, both of them, but they’re real people, very different from each other, but brave, trying to deal with a death threat the best way they can. I won’t say they’re friends with me, but it’s personal, and that’s totally new to me as a detective.”
He didn’t mention the killing of Emma Tysoe. He didn’t need to; it was on all their minds. Emma
Axel Summers was dead. No reason to feel any personal involvement there. But now he faced the strong possibility that Matthew Porter, the man he’d promised to keep under police protection, was dead. Anna Walpurgis remained alive. The responsibility was too much.
“Would you do me a favour?” he asked Diamond. “Would you meet Anna Walpurgis and tell me if you still think I should give her a free rein?”
He couldn’t say more clearly that he was floundering.
“Sure,” Diamond said, “but not in a safe house, right? Get her out of there fast.”
“Where to?”
“Send her to me in Bath with an overnight bag. I’ll see she comes to no harm.”
Hen’s eyebrows pricked up sharply, but she said nothing.
“You really mean that?” Barneston said on a note at least an octave higher.
“Then you can get down to what you’re good at-detective work.”
After Barneston had gone off to see if the SOCOs had yet found a distinctive set of tyre marks, Hen asked Diamond, “Do you think that’s wise?”
“In what way wise?” he said. “In terms of my career, definitely not. I’ll have Special Branch as well as Bramshill wanting my head on a plate. In terms of my reputation, well, I’ve never had much of a reputation. But as a way of wrong-footing the Mariner, it’s the best I can think of, and that’s the priority now.”
“Entertaining Anna Walpurgis?”
“One thing could lead to another, Hen.”
“You’re telling me! What about the trifling matter of the murder you and I are supposed to be investigating?”
“Remind me, would you?”
“Plonker.” She folded her arms. “I hope you know what you’re taking on, squire, because I’m completely foxed.”
It was time to stop being playful. “We’re about to pull in Ken, the boyfriend Emma Tysoe dumped just before she was murdered. My team are working on it. He’s a local man, we believe, and it shouldn’t be long. When we collar him, you’ll be in on the questioning, I hope.”
“It’s my case-remember? But what does this have to do with Anna Walpurgis?”
“Walpurgis is the bait.”
“For the Mariner?”
“Yes. He’s going to have to adjust his master plan now. He expected her to be under Special Branch protection, probably moved from one safe house to another in the hope of confusing him. Instead, she’s coming to Bath.”
Hen said, “He’ll find out, as sure as snakes crawl.”
“And follow her.”
“You don’t have to look so happy at the prospect.”
He raised his forefinger. “Right. But Bath is my patch. I know it better than he does. The odds have changed a bit. That’s how we’ll pinch him, Hen.”
