‘Dream on.’
‘I wouldn’t mind having my own jacuzzi.’
Diamond turned to see if Leaman was serious. ‘Have you ever sat in one? Give me a six-foot bath I can lie in. And I like my water still.’
‘It’s not the same as having a bath, guv. You take your girlfriend with you and drink champagne.’
‘Is that what you get up to of an evening?’
‘I haven’t got one yet, guv.’
‘Girlfriend or hot tub?’
Leaman didn’t have to answer. They’d found the street. Monnington’s house was a suburban semi like all the others, with a Honda on the drive in front of the garage. They cruised past two more and found a space to park.
A woman in an apron opened the front door. Before they could wave an ID she said, ‘Hold on a mo. I’ve got a stir-fry and two boys on the go.’ She left them standing there and dashed back to the kitchen at the rear.
‘Sounds like cannibalism,’ Diamond said.
‘How long is a mo?’ Leaman said.
Diamond spread his hands as if boasting about the one that got away.
‘Do we go in?’
‘Better not.’
She was soon back, wiping her hands on a tea towel.
Diamond showed his warrant card. ‘We picked the wrong time, obviously, but we came to see someone else. Dalton Monnington lives here, doesn’t he?’
‘What’s he been up to now?’ she asked.
‘It’s just questions. He may have witnessed something.’
‘Well, you’d better come in. He’s due any minute.’ She showed them into a front room with toys spread across the carpet. ‘Kids,’ she said, picking up bits of a plastic train set and throwing them into a cardboard carton. ‘There’s nowhere you can bring a visitor.’
‘Are you Mrs Monnington?’
‘Mrs? Some chance. Angie Collier, Dalt’s partner. Look, I’ve got to go up to the boys. They’re supposed to be tidying their room, but it sounds like a water fight. You don’t mind if I leave you to it?’
Left alone, they tossed a few more toys in the box and looked at the photos on the cupboard behind the sofa. Angie with a baby in her arms and a young man, presumably Dalton Monnington, with his arm round her shoulders. Another in a gilt frame, one of those studio shots against a blue background, the two adults with the boys in front. Monnington had the black hair and brown eyes they’d heard about from Jenny at the hotel. Diamond decided he looked the part of the proud father, then asked himself how much you can really tell from a photo.
‘I wasn’t expecting him to be a family man,’ Leaman said. ‘Doesn’t chime in with what happened in Bath.’
‘We don’t know what happened in Bath,’ Diamond said on his way across the room to the window. ‘We may find out shortly.’
A Ford Mondeo had drawn up behind the Honda on the driveway. Out of it stepped the man in the photo, wearing a striped shirt. He pressed his hands against the back of his neck and stretched and yawned as if to remove the tensions of work. He was home and his stir-fry would be waiting. He wasn’t to know two detectives were standing in his front room.
He entered the house and shouted, ‘Hi, guys.’
‘Hi, Daddy,’ came in unison from above. Angie was heard running downstairs. It wasn’t possible to pick up her hurried exchange of words with her partner.
Then he opened the front room door, well in control, the sales manner keeping any anxiety well hidden. ‘Dalton Monnington. You wanted to speak to me?’
Diamond did the introductions and said, ‘It’s in connection with the death of a woman in Bath a few days ago. Delia Williamson.’
Monnington’s first reaction was to turn and close the door behind him. Then he said, ‘The death of…?’
‘A waitress from Tosi’s restaurant. You were in Bath on Tuesday, right?’
‘Er, Tuesday. I think so.’
‘Can’t you remember?’
‘OK. Tuesday. I was there on business, visiting clients.’
‘People wanting to install hot tubs?’
‘Correct.’ He hesitated, as if to ask himself how much more these policemen knew. ‘I had three appointments in the area.’
‘And you stayed overnight. Why was that?’
‘They tend to be evening appointments, after my clients have finished work. I go to their homes, you see. It can finish quite late. The last appointment was at eight. I wasn’t away until gone nine. I don’t enjoy night driving, so I put up at a local hotel.’
‘And went out for a meal at Tosi’s?’
‘Off-hand, I couldn’t tell you the name.’
‘George Street.’
‘If that’s what you’re telling me, then it must be true.’ He was being deliberately vague, making time to get his thoughts in order.
‘Delia served you.’
‘Did she? I wouldn’t know the name of the waitress.’
‘She was the only one in the place.’
‘Then you must be right. She’s dead, you say? That’s awful.’ He shook his head.
‘It’s in the papers,’ Diamond said. ‘Haven’t you looked at them?’
‘Now that you mention it I heard something on the car radio. I didn’t make the connection.’
‘Then you know she was strangled and left hanging on a swing in a park.’
‘Er, yes.’
‘What time did you leave Tosi’s, Mr Monnington?’
‘Don’t know. Not too late. Around eleven, I think.’
‘And then?’
‘Back to the hotel. I was staying at-’
‘The Hilton. Room 317.’
Concern creased his face. They had too much detail for his comfort.
Diamond said, ‘After you left the restaurant, did you see Delia Williamson again?’
‘See her? Why should I? I’m in a relationship already.’ As if to underline the point his small sons upstairs started chanting, ‘Daddy, where are you?’
‘Did you make an arrangement to meet her?’
‘No.’
The denial was just too quick.
‘I’ll give you a chance to answer that question again,’ Diamond said. ‘She had in her possession a book of matches from the Hilton with your room number written inside it.’
‘That?’ He swallowed hard. ‘It’s not what it seems.’
‘What is it, then?’
He glanced towards the door as if he feared his partner was behind it. He lowered his voice. ‘You know how it is, being alone in a strange town?’
‘Speak up.’
‘I’m saying it’s no fun being stuck in a hotel when you’re used to company. The waitress was friendly, looking after me well in the restaurant, just doing her job, I suppose.’ His glance flicked from Diamond to Leaman and back again, seeking some clue that he was getting his point across. ‘I’m a bit of an optimist. I thought she fancied me. I wasn’t seriously trying to pull her, like you said. I just played a long shot, so to speak. I’m a smoker, and I happened to have the matches in my pocket. At the end of the evening I scribbled my room number on the inside and left the matches with the tip.’
‘Thinking she might look you up later?’
He looked sheepish. ‘Not really. I was being playful. In real terms there was no chance at all that she’d follow it up, but I guess it might have amused her.’
‘A spot of harmless fun?’
He seized on that. ‘That’s it. Harmless fun.’
‘You’ll have to do better than that, Mr Monnington. We found the matches in her locker.’
‘Maybe she was a smoker.’
‘Don’t push me. This is a murder inquiry. Someone met her after she finished work and later strangled her.’
He blinked. ‘You don’t think I’m responsible?’
‘What did you do after leaving the restaurant?’
‘Made my way back to the hotel.’
‘Directly?’
‘I called at a pub for some cigarettes, but that didn’t take five minutes. I went straight to the Hilton after that.’
‘Getting there at what time?’
He shrugged. ‘Between eleven and eleven thirty.’
‘Did you speak to any of the staff?’
‘No. I went straight to my room.’
‘Then what?’
He gave a half laugh. He was trying to make light of it and not succeeding. ‘I got ready for bed.’
‘Did you go out again that night?’
‘Of course not. Look, I don’t like what’s behind these questions.’