“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 had been his friend, more than just a friend, and she was dead. Maybe he blamed himself for turning down her invitation to spend the day on the beach with him.
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.”
She pondered that for a moment. “It’s bloody dangerous.”
“For Walpurgis, you mean? So what’s new? She’s under threat of death already.”
“But you’re right about one thing,” she conceded. “You’re forcing the Mariner’s hand. I’ve no idea how you’ll cope with this crazy bimbo, but the show definitely moves to Bath, leaving Jimmy Barneston here in Sussex looking at tyre marks.”
17
Bath was travel-brochure bright as Diamond drove in from Weston the next morning. Innocent, even. Who would be so coarse as to think about crime in surroundings such as these? You couldn’t imagine a mugger on the streets, let alone a serial killer. The tall trees in Queen Square were thick with gently stirring foliage at this time of year, softening the views across the green towards the corner house, number thirteen, where much of Northanger Abbey was written. “My mother hankers after the Square dreadfully,” Jane Austen wrote in 1801. While Diamond was unlikely ever to hanker after Queen Square or any other, he did feel a flutter of unease about his plan to lure the Mariner to the city.
“Back to reality,” he called across to Keith Halliwell when they both happened to park at the same time behind the ugliest building in Bath, the Manvers Street police station. “What’s been happening?”
“Progress, guv.”
They went through the code-operated door and started upstairs towards the incident room.
“Come on, then,” Diamond said after giving Halliwell ample time to say more.
“I think Ingeborg would like to tell you herself. She worked her little butt off yesterday.”
“Keep me in suspense, then.”
Most of the team were already in there clustered around John Leaman, who was telling a joke. At the sight of their burly superior, people sidled back to their desks.
“Did you want to give them the punchline, John?” Diamond offered.
“They can wait, guv.”
He looked to his right. “Well, Ingeborg?”
The new face in CID glanced up and batted the long lashes. “Hi, guv.”
Halliwell said quickly, “Don’t make a meal of it, Inge. I told him to expect something.”
“Oh.” She smiled. “Well, I finally nailed Ken.”
“Tell me more.”
“His name is Bellman-Kenneth Bellman. He works for an IT firm based in Batheaston.”
“A nightie firm? Our suspect? What are we talking here-black lace, see-through, baby doll or plain old winceyette?”
“IT,” Halliwell said through the laughter. “He’s in information technology.”
“Pity. Not much glamour in that. As what?”
“A consultant,” Ingeborg said.
“I’ve met a few of them in my time, borrowing your watch to tell you what the time is.”
Ingeborg smiled. “In the IT business it means anyone who isn’t actually employed by the company, but does a job for them. An outside expert.” She stopped and gave him a wary look. “You’re going to say a window-cleaner, aren’t you, guv? I know it.”
“OK, let’s call an amnesty,” he said. “How did you get onto him-through the credit card slips I suggested?”