“You did the right thing, escaping from him. Let’s leave it at that.”
In Ingeborg’s Ka, he said, “What did you make of that?”
She started the engine. “Now we’ve met her, I understand why she acted as she did. The upbringing has a lot to do with it.”
“Mother-dominated?”
“So much that I felt as if the mother was speaking. Mealy mouthed phrases like ‘a call of nature.’ She couldn’t tell Pinto to piss off. She’s never heard anyone say that. And yet she’s brave, waving down the woman in the car and marching into the Francis to ask for a room.”
“Desperation.”
“I had to feel sorry for her. She tried so hard to do the right thing, raising that big sum for the heart charity. What do you make of her?”
“I’m biased, aren’t I?” he said. “I went in wanting to feed her to the lions and my heart went out to her when she talked about Pinto trying it on. But now I’m out of there the old antagonisms have come back. Bring on the lions.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. Without meaning to, she dropped me in it.”
“Speaking of which,” Ingeborg said, “is your phone switched off? I had a text from Georgina telling me to make sure you read your mail.”
“Oh Christ. What’s she up to now?”
24
At 8:50 on Monday morning, Paloma drove through the gate at Avon and Somerset Police headquarters at Portishead with Peter Diamond as her passenger and brought the car as close as possible to the brown and cream main building. She said she wouldn’t come in unless he wanted her support and he said he’d prefer to tough this out alone. They agreed she’d return in a couple of hours unless he phoned.
He didn’t move. “Funny when you think about it,” he said.
“What’s funny?”
“The speed of all this. When I charge a lawbreaker, as likely as not it doesn’t get to court. If it does, it takes anything up to six months. But I put a foot wrong and what happens?”
“You end up with a surgical boot,” Paloma said. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and think what you’re going to say.”
She got out, opened the passenger door and helped him out. He was in his most respectable black suit, white shirt and a sober tie.
“Think of it as truth and reconciliation,” she said before straightening the tie and kissing him lightly. “Try not to get angry.”
He limped inside.
At the desk, he said to the civilian receptionist, “DS Diamond reporting for the high jump.”
Bemused, she looked at him and the crutches keeping him upright. “I’m sorry but I don’t understand.”
“The disciplinary hearing. Peter Diamond from Bath.”
“Ah.” She checked her computer screen. “Are you a member of the panel?”
“The main man.”
“The chairman?”
“The fall guy.” She still didn’t seem to understand, so he said, “The one in the naughty corner.”
“Oh.” The sides of her mouth twitched in understanding. A smile wouldn’t have been seemly on the dignified face of headquarters. “It’s upstairs in meeting room two, but you’re to wait outside to be called.”
“Upstairs, you say. Where’s the lift, ma’am?”
“Temporarily out of action, I’m afraid.”
“So am I, as it happens.”
“I noticed.”
“I can’t do staircases.”
“That’s unfortunate. We weren’t informed in advance that you have a problem.”
“It’s not a problem at ground level.”
“I’d better advise the chair.”
“Thank you. Speaking of chairs, are there two I can use while this is sorted out?”
“Two?”
“One to rest the broken foot on. I’ve been cramped up in a car since seven-thirty. I was told there’s a risk of thrombosis when I discharged myself from hospital.” This was all true. The bit about thrombosis and discharging himself had been more true the previous week, but so what? When you play the sympathy card, you make sure it counts.
The receptionist asked a uniformed constable to fetch the two chairs. Then she phoned meeting room 2.
He was happy to lean against the desk and wait, especially as he was close enough to listen to her end of the conversation. “There appears to be a problem, sir. Detective Superintendent Diamond is here in reception, but he’s on crutches and can’t manage the stairs... No, it’s not working. I’m told we’re waiting for an engineer... In the foyer, sir. I’ve asked for chairs... No, not for the panel. For Mr. Diamond. He needs two in case of thrombosis... Oh, I will, at once.” She switched off and told him someone would come down and speak to him.
The chairs were supplied and Diamond made sure they were positioned where they were likely to be noticed, under the plaque stating that the building had been opened by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on June 2, 1995. He asked for water and was brought some in a paper cup. He was soon getting sympathetic smiles from people passing by. One woman asked if he was there on behalf of the disabled. She unzipped her purse and he realised she was about to drop a coin into his cup.
After a short wait, he was aware of someone coming downstairs and crossing the floor to speak to him.
Georgina.
She was in her number one uniform, all braid and silver buttons. The look she gave him wasn’t friendly and neither was her opening salvo. “If this is your way of hitting back, it doesn’t impress me in the least.”
He said, “And good morning to you, ma’am. Pardon me for not standing up.”
“I’m not amused,” she said, “and neither is the Chief Constable.”
“I don’t see him.”
“He’s waiting upstairs in the meeting room.”
“He’ll have to wait until the lift is fixed unless he’s willing to descend to my level. What’s this all about, ma’am?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me. I had a message and a phone call ordering me to report here this morning to account for my recent conduct.”
Georgina noisily filled her lungs. “You drove me to this, Peter. I chose to overlook your indiscretions for years because you had successes bringing criminals to justice, but this time I can’t cover for you anymore. Headquarters wanted to know why our overtime costs have shot through the roof and I was forced to confess that all those hours were wasted on a wild goose chase, searching for a missing woman who it turns out is alive and well.”
“Belinda Pye?”
“As you very well know, I didn’t authorise the search of Combe Down. You high-handedly arranged it behind my back. Twenty officers, not to mention dogs and vehicles.”
“One dog. The other belongs to Paloma’s neighbour.”
“The dogs are immaterial. The man-hours are not. And on the very next day you had another fifteen officers taken from other duties.”
“I told you about the second search. You authorised it.”
“Only because you convinced me it could save the woman’s life.”
“She could have been trapped underground, or dead.”
“She wasn’t. And after you found she was alive, did you inform me? No. I was one of the last to hear, and no thanks to you. What was I supposed to say to headquarters when they asked if the operation was successful?”
“You could have told them the good news that Belinda was okay.”
“You know full well that the money men here don’t see it like that. They see Bath Central leeching funds. I’m blamed for failing to control the costings when the truth is that you’re the problem. I can’t cover for you any longer and that’s why you’re here.”
“That’s one mystery solved, then,” he said. “What am I charged with?”
“Didn’t they tell you? Insubordination. Reckless decision-making. Failure to communicate. Even your phone is switched off most of the time, so I can’t reach you. I’m at my wits’ end.”