Wigfull was in the main control room using the phone. Several others were speaking into headsets. In fact, a major alert seemed to be on. Briefly, he moved the phone away from his mouth and muffled it against his chest. “Have you heard?” he asked Diamond. “We’re about to move in on Mountjoy.”
“Where?”
Wigfull put up his hand to interrupt and spoke into the mouthpiece again. “Look, we’re fully stretched here. If I can’t get something sorted soon, I’m trying Wilts.”
“Is this another of Warrilow’s wild goose chases?” Diamond asked.
Wigfull shook his head and said down the line, “Thanks. Just as soon as you possibly can.”
“In Bath?” Diamond asked.
He put down the phone. “The Empire Hotel.”
“A hotel?” He plucked the name out of his past, clicked his fingers, and said, “Right. You mean that enormous place behind the Guildhall that’s been empty for years.”
“They’re in one of the top-floor rooms overlooking Orange Grove. Young Samantha was spotted forty minutes ago on the balcony trying to attract attention.”
“Are you sure it was her?”
“Totally. She was topless and waving a T-shirt like a flag.”
“You know her as well as that?”
“I’m telling you,” said Wigfull, blushing scarlet, more in anger than embarrassment. “A Japanese tourist was taking a video from the top story of the Ham Gardens car park. He brought it straight here. On the zoom you can see it’s Samantha, even though her hair has been dyed.”
“Any sign of Mountjoy?”
“Hard to see.”
“So what’s happening?”
“Warrilow is there, directing operations.”
“You’d better warn him that Mountjoy is armed.”
“What?” Wigfull swayed toward Diamond. “What did you say?”
“He has a gun, a handgun. If they’re moving in, they ought to be told.”
“Bloody hell!” Wigfull snatched up the phone again. “Get me Mr. Warrilow, fast.” To Diamond, he said, “For crying out loud! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
Diamond treated the question as less urgent than Wigfull’s business on the phone, and, sure enough, in less than the time it would have taken to answer, the vital information was being relayed to Warrilow.
“Yes, with a handgun… Peter Diamond tells me… I don’t know, sir. I haven’t had a chance to ask him… Of course… In the meantime, will you…? Yes, I think that’s essential.” To Diamond, he said, “I’m lost for words. People could have been killed.”
“Is he pulling them back?”
“Of course he is. My God, Peter, you’d better fill me in fast.”
That was what Diamond proceeded to do, explaining succinctly how Mountjoy had ambushed him in the Francis the previous evening at the point of an automatic. “Don’t ask me where he got it from, or whether it’s loaded. That didn’t emerge. We talked. He told me he was becoming impatient. He wanted results.” He paused to receive the heat of Wigfull’s outrage.
“All this was last night. Last night, for crying out loud? I simply don’t understand why you didn’t report it.”
“Frankly, John, because I believe Warrilow will have him shot. Now that he knows the man is armed, he’s justified in taking his life. You know the form. You know how sieges end.”
“If it’s Mountjoy’s life or one of ours, we’ll shoot the bastard,” Wigfull declared.
“And I can’t fault your logic.”
This sounded like capitulation and caught Wigfull off balance. His next remark was couched less aggressively. “But you were willing to expose police officers to fire without warning them.”
“No. The minute I heard they were moving in, I told you what I know.”
“Why not last night?”
“I just explained.”
“What’s so special about Mountjoy, that you want him kept alive?”
Diamond insisted gently, “I’m almost certain that he’s an innocent man.”
“Innocent? He’s kidnapped Mr. Tott’s daughter. That’s a serious crime.”
“I mean innocent of murder, the murder I sent him down for.”
“I see! You believe what Mrs. Billington told us last night, that stuff about her husband killing Britt Strand?”
“All I’m saying is that Mount joy appears to have suffered a miscarriage of justice. I was chiefly responsible and I want to see him cleared.”
“If he is, it won’t reflect credit on you.”
At this, Diamond erupted. “Do you think I’m looking for bloody credit? I spent long enough in the police to know what that amounts to. I had a pretty good record as a detective, but I wasn’t infallible, and when I make a mistake I have the guts to admit it and do something about it.”
“I don’t understand this,” said Wigfull, raking a hand through his dark hair. “I just don’t understand. You were brought in because of Samantha Tott, not Mountjoy. Her life was under threat and Mountjoy was making demands. We had you brought here to keep him sweet while we recaptured him.”
“I made it crystal clear that if I stayed, I would look at the case again. Keeping people sweet doesn’t come naturally to me, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I don’t know how you hoped to get anywhere, just two of you.” A thought struck Wigfull and it was almost possible to see it strike. “Did Inspector Hargreaves know that Mountjoy is armed?”
“She wasn’t there,” Diamond said, wanting to cut off that avenue.
“But did you inform her?”
“Keep Julie out of this.”
“You may think because you’re no longer on the strength that you can take chances with men’s lives, but she’s one of us. If she knew about that gun-”
“She didn’t,” Diamond lied and then deflected the attack. “What you need is someone who knows the building. It’s a rabbit warren by the look of it. Have you got hold of the plans yet?”
“We’ve only just had the alert.”
“Try the City Council. Property and Engineering Services. It’s their baby. They must have a set of plans. With any luck, someone there will know exactly what it’s like inside the building.”
“I was getting round to that.”
“I’d get round to it pronto if I were you, John.” He waited while Wigfull made another phone call.
As soon as the call was finished, Diamond started along another devious trail. “Mountjoy is doing his cause no good at all by carrying a weapon. I accept that. We’re bound to use marksmen now and a handgun is no use against a high velocity rifle. His chance of survival is small.”
“It would be simple if he didn’t have Samantha with him,” Wigfull reflected, exactly as he was meant to.
Diamond gave a nod. “You’ve got a hostage situation, and it wants delicate handling. Can you trust Warrilow not to take any risks? Speaking personally, I’m far from confident that he can handle an armed siege.”
“That’s not a matter for me,” Wigfull said, ever mindful of rank.
“Has Mr. Farr-Jones been informed? Mr. Tott?”
“It’s only just happened.”
“If I were you, I’d cover myself, make sure they were fully briefed.” The trail was opening out and the way ahead was clear.
Wigfull acted on the advice and got on the phone again. After speaking to both of the top brass, he informed Diamond, “We’re to proceed to the hotel at once. The Chief wants a meeting.”
“With Warrilow present?”
“Yes. Shall we go?”
An interested crowd had gathered, attracted by the pulsing blue beacons on the police cars parked in front of the ornate facade of the once-gracious hotel in the center of Bath. The construction of the Empire had spanned the last years of Queen Victoria’s reign and the first of King Edward VII’s and its design seemed to epitomize the change of monarchs; five stories were formal in style, typical of late Victorian public buildings, while the sixth burst into a rollicking joke. The top of the hotel celebrated three disparate styles: a red-tiled twin gable that might have been borrowed from a suburban villa; a Dutch gable defined in gracious curves; and a turret, seven-sided and castellated. In consequence it was the most vilified building in Bath, variously described in books about the city as “huge and execrable”; “a monolithic monster”; “an eclectic piece of nonsense”; “a prime example of Edwardian bad taste”; “crazy round the tops”; “a fearful mock-Jacobean skyscraper with a touch of Lacock Abbey in the top corner”; and “as bad in this setting as a gasometer.” But Peter Diamond had an affection for it amounting to empathy; often his own appearance drew comments almost as harsh.