Suddenly the room was full of noise and people. Hands gripped Diamond’s arms and hauled him upright. “Get to the women,” he said. “Are they all right?”
They were both alive. Their arms and legs were bound. Anna vomited when the straps came off her. Ingeborg said, “It’s the chloroform. He used it on both of us, several times.”
“But you’re OK?”
Anna said in a croak, “Thanks to you, Sparkle. Man oh man, that was bloody heroic!”
26
Ken Bellman was forced to wait twenty-four hours before having the satisfaction of telling his story to the chief investigating officers. Diamond needed to catch up on his sleep. Hen Mallin wanted to tie up another case before leaving Bognor. And Jimmy Barneston had been called urgently to the staff college at Bramshill.
A lot more happened in that twenty-four hours.
Anna Walpurgis, quickly and fully restored, moved out of Bennett Street and back into the Bath Spa Hotel. From there, she made a series of shopping trips, contributing handsomely to the economy of the city. As well as buying five new outfits for herself, she treated Ingeborg to a stunning red leather suit. And there was a present for Diamond: a widescreen TV and DVD player combined, with a disc of herself in concert. “Just so you don’t ever forget the broad whose life you saved, Pete.”
Red-faced, he thanked her.
Keith Halliwell’s skills as a home decorator were put to good use in Georgina’s house, repapering the wall the Mariner had defaced with the red marker. A team of professional cleaners went through the building, tidying up and restoring the place to inspection order.
In Bognor, Garth Trumpington was charged with the murder of Dr Emma Tysoe. His fingerprints matched those on the stolen car. A check with the duty roster at Wightview Sands car park showed he’d been in the kiosk when Emma arrived on the day of the murder and off duty at the time she was killed. He asked if he would get a lighter sentence if the court was told he hadn’t meant to strangle her. He claimed that the shoulderstrap of her bag got entangled around her neck and tightened while he was struggling with her. No one would venture an opinion on that one.
So it was early on Thursday afternoon when Ken Bellman and his solicitor were ushered into interview room two at Manvers Street, where Diamond, Hen and Barneston were already seated. The solicitor’s presence was only a formality. One glance at Bellman told them he was as eager as the Ancient Mariner himself to tell his story, all they wanted to know, and much they didn’t. He’d been caught with the murder weapon in his hands and made no attempt to conceal his guilt. He intended to justify his actions now. Nothing would stop him. The glittering eye was all too apparent. The Mariner hath his will.
“None of this would have happened if British Metal hadn’t pulled the rug from under my research project,” he said with control, taking his time. “The work I was doing up at Liverpool won’t mean much to anyone who isn’t in electronics, but it was the culmination of years of study. All I wanted was the chance to get on with my project. It was my purpose in life. I got up every day eager to do more.” He paused to register the impact of the outrage against him. “Imagine how I felt when I was told by the head of department that I’d lost my funding through no fault of my own. There was no appeal, and no other possibility of finding another sponsor. I was out. Overnight. Later, I was told about this woman Anna Walpurgis being the new broom at British Metal and wanting to make sure the sponsorship money brought a return for the company. Sickening.”
“Did you try for some funding from anywhere else?” Hen asked.
“Wasted a month and a hell of a lot of energy writing to other firms. ‘We’re fully committed for the next eighteen months.’ ‘We regret to say we’re cutting back on sponsorship because of the economic downturn in our industry.’ Blah, blah, blah. I gave up and came south and got a job in London. What a comedown.”
“In electronics?”
“A security firm installing anti-theft systems.”
“This was in central London?” Diamond put in, understanding how it tied in.
“The head office is. They’re very big. I worked all over the south.”
“And I suppose they had the contract for Special Branch?”
He said with a superior smile, “You’re catching on. We won the contract to upgrade the security on all their properties. I designed the circuits. I had to be vetted, of course. They’re very sensitive about who they employ. But I’m cleaner than clean. I was given the top security rating.”
Jimmy Barneston muttered, “Bloody hell.” Special Branch had blamed him for their failings. He’d come here straight from a roasting by the Bramshill overlords.
“And that’s how I got to know the codes for all the latest safe houses. They came in useful when I wanted to spring Matthew Porter.”
Barneston’s eyes flickered keenly. “So you had all this planned from way back?”
“No, I only decided to get my revenge on British Metal when I saw an item on TV about them putting a huge amount of money into a film, something about upgrading an arthouse film into a blockbuster movie. That really got to me. I mean, my bursary was peanuts to what Summers was given for this crap film about a two-hundred year old poem. How does mankind benefit from that? These ponces who make films are burning up millions on things that add nothing to people’s knowledge. My work was important, and real, and I’m not bullshitting when I tell you it would have been a notable contribution to computer science. A few days later I saw in the paper that this kid Porter had been handed a fortune by British Metal just because he can roll a small white ball into a hole. I flipped. I’ve never been so angry in my life.”
“But you didn’t kill in anger,” Diamond said.
A new quality came into Bellman’s voice, a distinct note of pride. “That isn’t my style at all. I approached it as a scientist should, starting by assembling all the information I had at my disposal and then deciding how to maximise its potential. The objective was to damage British Metal and its sponsorship programme.”
Hen said, “Couldn’t you have done that without resorting to murder?”
He gave her a surprised look. “How? I needed to make an impact with newspaper headlines. Letters to the editor won’t do that. Protest vigils? What do they achieve? Sudden death is the only thing that gets through to people in these violent times. Listen to the news any day and you’ll see that I’m right. I needed a campaign that guaranteed those headlines. I’m not squeamish. I can do what’s necessary to get attention.”
“Taking life?” Hen said, making clear her revulsion.
“How about my life?” he said, his voice rising. “My research was trashed, my academic reputation, my hopes and dreams and all the work I’d already put in. Nobody gave a damn about me. My future, my career, was tossed aside to give even bigger handouts to these fat cats. I saw no problem in putting them down. As I was telling you, I worked from my strengths. First, my inside knowledge of the security arrangements in the latest safe houses. Second, I’d seen a former university friend on TV.”
“Emma Tysoe.”
“Emma, yes.” He grinned at Diamond and there was total contempt in the way he said, “You tried to pin the wrong murder on me, didn’t you? Got it all wrong. I didn’t kill Emma. She was far too useful to me. But I mustn’t jump ahead. One evening I happened to watch this programme about psychological offender profilers and there was a face I knew, a girlfriend from my student days, being called out to all the most difficult cases of serial murder. She was now a star in the profiling world. Based at Bath University. Quite a celebrity. I decided to renew the friendship.”