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‘I get you. I’d have been slightly narked, after we agreed to let it rest in peace.’

‘Did you go back to check?’

‘No chance. After it was over, I was in the beer tent. You get up a thirst in these battles.’

‘And did you drive home after?’

Miss Tower slammed her hand on the table. ‘Don’t answer that.’

Dave stared at Septimus and gave a faint smile. ‘You see? I knew I needed my brief with me.’

Diamond had been at his lowest point, hunting the murderer of his wife, when he had last seen Louis Voss. His old colleague had managed to trace a crucial contact. If Louis didn’t already know what was happening in London, he would know someone who did. Nobody in the Met was better at working the grapevine. Officially Louis was a civilian now, but still at Fulham nick, managing what he called his team of computer cuties. The loss of CID status hadn’t cramped his style one bit.

This morning he was in the saloon bar of the Fox and Pheasant, off the Fulham Road, when Diamond arrived about eleven with Keith Halliwell. The lop-sided smile was punctuated by a wink. ‘Black Baron, gents? Much needed, I reckon, after the M4. And I bet I know who wasn’t driving.’

‘We’d still be on the road if I was,’ Diamond said.

Louis was right. They’d come in Diamond’s car, now roadworthy again, with Halliwell acting as chauffeur.

‘Keith, meet my old friend Louis, the wizard of ops, as he’s known.’

‘Was,’ Louis said. ‘I’m just a geek now. What’s your part in this, Keith, apart from driving him at forty miles an hour, maximum?’

Diamond said, ‘He’s the main man, the SIO on the case.’

Louis greeted this with a faintly amused look and then went to order the drinks. He could remember every trick Diamond had ever pulled.

‘Nice of him,’ Halliwell said.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ Diamond said. ‘We’ll find he’s started a slate in my name. I know this guy of old.’

‘We can go halves,’ Halliwell offered.

‘That’s all right. We’ll need to fill up with petrol on the way home. You can take care of that.’

One more trick. Unfortunately there was no one Halliwell could clobber.

Louis returned with their pints. ‘Make the most of this,’ he said. ‘You’ll be on straight vodkas later.’

‘Who have you lined up for us?’

‘This hasn’t been easy. There’s a lot of suspicion. The Ukrainians are charming people, but if they once suspect you’re from immigration, you’re as welcome as a bowl of cold borsch.’

‘They can’t all be illegals.’

‘I mean it, Peter. Watch your back.’

‘Nothing new about that.’

‘Don’t make any assumptions. They’ve been through every kind of hardship back home: wretched conditions, ten thousand per cent inflation, rationing, the nuclear disaster at Chernobyl. When independence came, it didn’t make the difference they hoped for. There was corruption, organised crime, Mafia killings. It took the Orange Revolution to make a real break.’

‘The Ukrainians over here interest me more.’

Louis grinned. ‘Fair enough. And you’ve come to the right place. Waves of them arrived here in the nineties. Life at home was so harsh, particularly for women, that a lot of the young got out. These escapees are mainly the people you’ll meet, in their thirties and forties now.’

‘The woman we’re interested in would have been around twenty when she was killed,’ Halliwell said, impatient to get to the point. ‘We don’t know why she came to Bath.’

‘Nice place. Why shouldn’t she?’ Louis said.

‘We think she could have been trafficked.’

‘To Bath? For sex?’

‘Bristol, more likely.’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me. Trafficking of Ukrainian women is a big problem. The numbers must run into thousands.’

‘Hundreds of thousands actually,’ Halliwell said. ‘The Ukrainian Ministry of the Interior reckoned four hundred thousand in the last decade of the twentieth century. That’s to all countries, not just Britain.’

Louis exchanged a glance with Diamond as if to say gawdelpus, what have you brought with you?

Diamond said, ‘Keith does his research.’

Louis gave a nod. ‘Okay, but let’s remember the majority come here freely and get work permits. What’s the background on your missing woman?’

‘A Ukrainian zip fly,’ Diamond said.

‘And a snip of hair,’ Halliwell added.

‘Teeth?’

‘She was headless.’

‘You have got a problem.’ Louis picked up his glass and drank. ‘It sounds professional. If you’re right about the trafficking, she could have rebelled and been dealt with by her pimp.’

‘And if that’s the case,’ Diamond said, ‘her killing will have been used as a threat to keep other women in line. So I reckon someone may remember her.’

‘From twenty years ago?’ A belch from Louis testified to his reaction. ‘You always were an optimist. There’s a new generation of working girls now.’

‘But the older ones may have graduated into madams.’

‘There he goes again. All right, let me tell you who I’ve fixed for you to meet. Two people at opposite ends of the spectrum. Olena is a pillar of the community and she’s been here twenty-five years. She’s a babusya, a granny, much respected, a kind of church social worker who looks out for vulnerable girls and does her best to link them up with families. Ukrainians are regular church-goers.’

‘Which church?’ Halliwell asked.

‘They have more than one church?’ Diamond said.

‘The Catholics have their own cathedral in Mayfair,’ Halliwell said.

Being well informed wasn’t earning Halliwell the credit he craved. He might have come from another planet, going by the look he got from Louis. ‘Olena is Ukrainian Orthodox. The church is in Ealing, no great distance from here.’

‘We’d like to meet Olena, whatever her religion,’ Diamond said.

‘Almost any girl who visited that church in the last quarter of a century has been given the once-over by Olena.’

‘Thanks, Louis. You’ve spent time on this.’

‘More than I intended.’

‘Who else have you lined up?’

‘The second contact couldn’t be more different. Andriy is a disgrace, an alcoholic who has never done a day’s work since he got here. There’s a Ukrainian pub in Addison Road called the Crimea and he gets his glass filled up through the day by passing on the lowlife gossip. Amazingly his brain still functions. If anything in the way of scandal is remembered about your lady, Andriy is the man to ask. Treat him with respect. He has powerful friends.’

‘So we know where to find Andriy,’ Halliwell said. ‘How about Olena?’

‘Right now she’ll be arranging flowers at the church in Newton Avenue, Ealing. I told her to expect you around twelve-thirty.’

Short, slim and with the steady gaze of an icon, Olena met them at the church door and said, ‘You will come to my flat.’

‘We can talk here,’ Diamond offered, trying to be amenable.

‘Not in the church, or outside.’

She was the kind of woman you didn’t argue with. ‘As you wish.’

The flat was in Meon Road, as close to the church as a loyal parishioner would wish to be. Olena lived on the ground floor. ‘I prepared chorni khlib and salt for you. It is the custom,’ she said, unlocking the door.

Unseen by their hostess, Halliwell raised his eyebrows at Diamond, who gave a nod meant to say eat your chorni khlib and salt and look happy about it.

Olena had the treat ready just inside the door on a tray covered by an embroidered cloth. She removed the cloth to reveal a black loaf and a small bowl of salt. She offered it first to Diamond.

‘Break a piece and dip in salt,’ she told him.