Carlyle laughed. ‘So he’s not to your taste either?’
‘No, no.’ Orb wagged an admonishing finger, ‘it’s not that. I’m a diplomat, so taste doesn’t come into it. And, in many ways, Mr Holyrod is a very admirable man. Apart from anything else, he was a fine soldier.’
‘But?’ Carlyle, relaxed about being distracted from what was, at best, a fishing exercise, was curious about the man’s opinion of the Mayor.
‘But he’s playing games with us a little bit.’
‘How so?’
‘The last time I looked,’ the Ambassador said gently, ‘I was Ambassador to the Court of St James’s, not to the Court of St Christian Holyrod. The Mayor wants to use people like us as he tries to develop his own mini-foreign policy on the side, while expanding his own business interests at the same time. He wants to be the next Prime Minister and needs to fill in gaps in his CV. That’s why he’s touting TEMPO.’
‘What is that?’ Carlyle asked.
‘TEMPO is a big arms fair, held in London every other year,’ Orb explained. ‘Chile has a successful military technology industry, so it is an important event for us. But we do not seek publicity.’
‘No?’
‘It should be a discreet place to do business. If Mayor Holyrod goes and turns the event into a political platform, well, that is not good for anyone.’
‘No,’ Carlyle agreed. He had never stopped to consider the problems faced by international arms dealers before, but he could see the Ambassador’s point.
‘Then there’s the whole question of conflict of interest,’ the Ambassador continued. ‘I thought that you British were always quite.. proper when it came to that kind of thing.’
‘What conflict of interest?’ Carlyle asked, trying not to sound too interested.
‘Christian Holyrod is a non-executive director of the company called Pierrepoint Aerospace.’
Carlyle shrugged, none the wiser.
‘“Aerospace”,’ Orb continued, ‘is a widely-used euphemism for “arms manufacturer” these days, Inspector. Sophisticated arms, true, but they still kill — when they work, that is. Holyrod is busy trying to drum up business for his company — and, no doubt commission for himself — at the same time as he’s supposed to be running this city.’
Carlyle made a face. ‘I thought that you had to give up outside interests like that when you took office?’
‘Apparently not,’ Orb sniffed.
‘And you think that’s wrong?’
‘It’s not my country.’ Orb held up a cautionary hand. ‘And it’s not my business. It would be wrong for me to express a view. Anyway, I have seen a lot worse activities in my time.’
Carlyle smiled. ‘I’m sure you have.’
‘I am just an amused observer.’
Watching a pleasure craft head upriver, Carlyle pondered what the Ambassador had said. ‘Are we talking about corruption here?’ he asked finally.
A gust of wind from the river blew across the terrace, and Orb shivered. ‘That is such a vague term,’ he said. ‘Look at it this way, there is no danger of him going to jail. All I’m saying is that I’ve been around a long time and there are certain ways of doing business. No one likes it when confronted with someone who is becoming too pushy.’
‘Isn’t that just the modern world in microcosm?’ Carlyle said.
‘You are absolutely right,’ Orb laughed. ‘Anyway,’ he took his hands from the rail and spread his arms wide, ‘you didn’t come here to listen to me being un diplomatic, Inspector. I am sure that you will ignore my indiscretion.’
Carlyle nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘The end of my career is looming,’ Orb said solemnly. ‘I don’t have to worry so much about my every utterance, but even so…’
‘I have no interest in causing you any embarrassment, sir,’ Carlyle said. ‘After all, that is not what I was seeking out your opinion on.’
‘Good,’ the Ambassador nodded. ‘Thank you. So… what is it that you want to talk about?’
‘Well,’ Carlyle looked at his shoes, which needed a polish, ‘I am conducting an investigation, which maybe has a Chilean angle, and I thought that you might be able to help me out with some advice.’
The Ambassador listened intently as Carlyle explained the Mills case, as well as the story of William Pettigrew and the belated attempt to bring his killers to justice. After the inspector had finished, he pondered for a while.
‘It sounds as if you have already done a good job, Inspector,’ Orb said eventually. ‘What help do you need from me?’
‘I was wondering whether there could be any credibility in Henry Mills’s claims about his wife having had enemies in Chile.’
‘We all have enemies.’
‘Enemies who might want her dead,’ Carlyle clarified.
Orb knitted his eyebrows, making him look older. ‘But I thought that the matter had been closed. You have charged the husband?’
‘Yes,’ he said, omitting to mention that the suspect was no longer on this earth.
Orb looked at him carefully. ‘Don’t you believe that he did it?’
Carlyle wasn’t going to share his personal concerns about the investigation with a man he had only just met. ‘I am just tying up some loose ends,’ he said, as casually as possible. ‘This is a very serious matter and I would not want a cynical defence lawyer to suggest that we had been less than thorough.’
‘Of course. Of course.’ Hand on chin, Orb struck a thoughtful pose. ‘I don’t know the particular individuals, obviously, but it is true that the particular chapter in our history to which you refer has not yet been fully closed. Plenty of people disappeared at that time, not just priests. Many of them have still not been found.’ He looked at Carlyle. ‘Can you imagine the anguish that must cause their families?’
Carlyle said nothing. That kind of pain, he didn’t want to imagine.
‘If, as you say,’ Orb continued, ‘there is a case like this coming to court back home, old wounds may well have been reopened. How could it be otherwise? We Chileans are only human, after all. It was a very difficult time.’
‘I understand.’
‘Look at the passions the Civil War in Spain still arouses, for example. That occurred a lot earlier than our… situation. But so long as there are generations still alive who were touched directly, it will always remain a very emotive subject.’
‘Emotive enough for people to kill?’ Carlyle asked.
‘That is a very difficult question to answer.’ The Ambassador ran a hand through his hair. ‘Theoretically, yes. But, in my experience, theory and practice can often be far removed from each other. It is indeed possible, but that is a long way from saying people would take the law into their own hands in such a way — especially so far from home. Times are different now, but back then…’ Orb’s voice trailed off as he scanned the river, maybe looking for a distraction. Finding none, he turned back to Carlyle. ‘Well, back then I would not have been so happy about helping a policeman with his enquiries.’
‘People could kill and get away with it?’ Carlyle asked.
‘Yes, they could. People like you.’
Carlyle smiled to show that he hadn’t taken offence. ‘I’m sure that you are right, but what about people like you?’
‘People like me?’ Orb frowned. ‘Oh, people like me never have to get our hands dirty.’
‘So you got through it all unscathed?’
‘Of course. It was a terrible time, but life goes on. You go to work, you have dinner parties at home, you take your children to the zoo; the world doesn’t stop turning because some people are being murdered in a football stadium a few blocks down the road. Even if you know about it, even if you can hear the shots, what can you do? Nothing. So you get on with your life. Hard to imagine now, but that was the case.’
‘It’s not that hard to imagine,’ Carlyle remarked.
‘What?’ Orb raised an eyebrow. ‘Here in England? One of the most civilised countries in the world? And you, a man who has never known war or serious civil unrest?’