Several hundred Bathonians had left their living rooms for a sight of some action. Peter Diamond arrived at Orange Grove soon after eight to find police lines where that afternoon there had only been checkered tape. The yellow jackets with reflective stripes were visible stopping the public at every point of access to the open space in front of the hotel facade. The number of police minibuses and coaches parked beside Bog Island testified to the reinforcements brought in from all over the county.
Julie dropped him at the north end of Pierrepont Street and reverse-turned and drove away. At this critical stage of the operation it was necessary to divide forces. Crucial things still had to be checked and Diamond would be checking the most crucial-the state of Mount joy’s nerves. Too many hours had passed without communication. The man was trapped; he would be exhausted and afraid. If he panicked and used the gun, all the good work of the past hours would be undermined. He had to be informed as soon as possible that the new evidence proved him innocent of murder. It was up to Diamond to give him that reassurance, man to man. This wasn’t an occasion for loud-hailers or mobile phones.
Meanwhile Julie was given the essential task of following up on the discovery in Conkwell Wood.
At Bog Island, ominously, two ambulances were waiting, their crews outside watching the play of the searchlight across the hotel front. The Chief Constable, dapper in a flak jacket and Tyrolean hat, was briefing some of the press outside the police caravan that was being used as the headquarters of the rescue operation. Spotting Diamond’s approach, he cut short the interview and they went inside the van and it wasn’t for a cozy chat. “Where the devil have you been all afternoon? You should have been in touch.” This was said in the presence of a civilian radio operator, Keith Halliwell and Mr. Tott, who got up as if to welcome Diamond and sat down smartly when he heard the rebuke.
Diamond was surprised by the hostility. From long experience of dealing with evasion he decided it had to be a cover for some shabby decision. Sidestepping the Chief Constable’s question, which he considered superfluous at this stage, he asked, “What’s the state of play? Are we in communication with Mountjoy?”
Tott said, “No, we’re not.”
Farr-Jones piled on the reproach. “You’re a fine one to talk about communication.”
Diamond was more than willing to tough it out with them; that was one of the perks of being a civilian. “What’s been happening, then? It’s a siege. I thought the first priority was to set up some line of communication.”
Farr-Jones said acidly, “The first priority is to establish where Mountjoy is, and where he’s holding Miss Tott.”
“Haven’t you done that?”
“They’re somewhere on the fifth or sixth floor. They moved from the place where they were sighted. We’ve occupied floors one to four.”
Diamond erupted at this. “You sent men in? Jesus Christ, you gave me your word that you wouldn’t storm the building.”
Farr-Jones checked him curtly, “Don’t over dramatize. We haven’t stormed the place. We made an orderly move. That was a decision I took an hour ago.”
“Armed men?”
“Well, I wouldn’t send them in with batons and shields when the fellow has a handgun.”
“But you gave me an undertaking. I had until midnight to talk him down, you said. You’d stand off until midnight. You bloody agreed!”
Farr-Jones thrust a finger at Diamond. “Don’t tangle with me, Diamond. This is a police operation and I’m responsible, here, on the spot, taking stock from minute to minute and giving the orders. You weren’t anywhere about, and you haven’t been in touch.”
“What exactly are these orders?” Diamond asked, appalled at the potential for a blood bath.
“To seal every possible escape route and advance as high up the stairs as they can without personal risk.”
Tott did his best to take out some of the sting. “We’re working from maps the City Council have supplied. The problem is that the building is a honeycomb. Most of the rooms on the top floors have access to roof spaces. The plumbing is extraordinary. They say it’s like the engine room of a battleship up there.”
“Where’s Warrilow?” Diamond asked, as a disquieting thought surfaced.
Farr-Jones said firmly, “Commander Warrilow is directing the team inside the hotel. We’re in radiophonic communication.”
It was as dire as he had feared. Warrilow could justify any action by claiming he was in the firing line. “Tell him I’m coming in right away and order him to put the action on hold.”
“You’ve got some neck, Diamond.”
He kept control, just. “What I’ve got, Mr. Farr-Jones, is what I promised: the means to bring this siege to an end. I’m ready to talk to Mountjoy, only not with gunmen moving in for a shot.”
“What are you saying-that something has turned up, something relevant to the case?”
“Nothing turned up,” muttered Diamond, his distaste for the words made clear. “We turned it up, Julie Hargreaves and I, through solid detective work. We can prove that Mountjoy didn’t murder Britt Strand.”
Tott clenched his fist and said, “Nice work.”
The Chief Constable was less charitable. “Who the devil did murder her, then?”
If he thought he was entitled to be handed the name on a platter, he was disappointed.
Diamond said rigidly, “We’re dealing with the siege. Would you tell Commander Warrilow I’m coming in and order him to pull back his men to the third floor? I won’t talk to Mountjoy under armed threat.”
“You don’t seem to understand,” said Farr-Jones. “This is a high-risk incident.”
“It is now.”
“We have men deployed all over the building.”
“Yes, in disregard of the promise I was given,” said Diamond, and then played his highest card. “Are you dispensing with my services, Chief Constable? Is it down to Warrilow to end the siege in a shoot-out?”
Tott exclaimed, “God forbid-no!”
Farr-Jones took refuge in silence.
“I’d like to have that confirmed,” Diamond pressed him. “Strictly off the record, as our friends out there express it.”
The allusion to the press struck home. There was a sharp intake of breath. Then Farr-Jones turned to the radio operator and said, “Get Mr. Warrilow for me.”
Diamond didn’t wait to hear the outcome. He headed straight for the front of the hotel, ignoring the press people who trotted beside him, thrusting microphones at his face and badgering him with questions all the way. At the top of the flight of stone steps under the white, wrought-iron portico, he was waved inside by the constable standing guard.
The once-gracious entrance hall that Diamond was seeing for the first time was ungraciously lit by the striplights installed during the time the civil service had occupied the hotel. There were armed men in combat suits at the foot of a fine mahogany staircase that must once have been carpeted and now was fitted with lino treads and metal strips. To the right was a modern-looking counter normally occupied by the security firm who patrolled the hotel. Warrilow stepped from behind it like the bell captain, his deportment proclaiming that he was the man in charge.
“I suppose the lift isn’t working?” Diamond cut through any tedious preliminaries.
Warrilow astutely decided that obstruction wasn’t the best way to deal with this charging rhino. “If you’re serious about wanting to go up, you’ll be forced to use the stairs. I hope you’re in good shape.”
“And I hope the Chief Constable made himself clear,” Diamond stated firmly. “I’m not going up there with guns in support and I don’t want to be interrupted, however long it takes. My brief is to talk him down, and I want his trust.”