Peter Lovesey - Cop to Corpse

‘Harry’s funeral later,’ Diamond said.

‘I thought his widow didn’t want us there.’

‘She made an exception of me.’

‘You? I can’t think why. He wasn’t CID.’

‘I’m the man on the case, that’s why.’

‘Better stick to the case and keep your head down, then.’

Diamond grasped Wigfull’s sleeve before he moved on. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘You’ll find out. I think some heavy artillery is coming your way.’

Keep calm, Diamond told himself. It’s an expression of speech. It doesn’t have to mean that he knows anything about the note. ‘Artillery who from?’

‘The Assistant Chief Constable, no less.’ With that, Wigfull moved on, leaving Diamond reassured that Wigfull wasn’t talking about gunfire, but wondering what new infliction to expect from Georgina. If the ACC was on the warpath, it was serious. She’d kept her distance all week.

Keith Halliwell gave his usual warm, ‘How you doing, guv?’ in the incident room and confirmed that Diamond was summoned upstairs. There was no indication what it was about.

He found Georgina staring out of her top floor window, hands behind her back wringing the neck of an invisible chicken, an ominous sign. The window looked out onto Manvers Street, where he’d stepped out of the car. As usual Georgina was in uniform. She was one of the few female officers who always wore a skirt. Without turning to face him, she said, ‘Is your mobile switched off?’

He delved into his pocket. ‘It is,’ he said. ‘It won’t go off.’

‘I guessed as much. I’ve been trying to reach you all morning.’

‘I just got in.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘Is something the matter with your car?’

‘A friend gave me a lift in.’

She about-turned and practically clicked her heels. Her look travelled up and down his clothes. ‘Why are you dressed like that?’

‘Harry Tasker’s funeral this afternoon, ma’am.’

‘I thought it was a family affair, with none of us invited.’

‘Mrs. Tasker made an exception in my case. Some lads from uniform are going as well, I believe.’

‘It seems to me,’ Georgina said with a sniff, ‘that I’m the last to be informed about anything in this place.’

He still wasn’t sure what could have triggered this hostility. His mind raced through the possibilities. Clearly she was in a state about something he’d kept from her.

She gestured to him to sit in the upright chair facing her. Then she lowered herself into a swivel armchair. Having checked that the hem of the skirt was as close to her knees as possible, she started. ‘Yesterday afternoon, you phoned Headquarters.’

The light dawned. A large bee called Protocol lived in Georgina’s bonnet. ‘Correct, ma’am.’

‘Without a word to me.’

His confidence returned. He was at an advantage here. Play this straight, he thought, and I’m on a winner. She doesn’t know the full story of the secret gunroom. ‘It was a matter of some urgency, ma’am. As you know, I’ve been working closely with a Headquarters man, Detective Superintendent Jack Gull, head of the Serial Crimes Unit. I informed him about the call and he was in agreement, so I got on with it. Should have notified you as well, I see that now.’

‘The first I heard of it was a call from Headquarters relayed to me at home this morning before eight o’clock.’

‘At home before eight? That’s a liberty,’ Diamond said with an effort to sound compassionate.

‘They referred to a tip-off you gave them. I knew nothing of this.’

He heaped more sympathy on her. ‘Lines of communication loused up again. I’m sorry if I’m to blame, ma’am. My enquiries into the sniper case took me to Soldier Nuttall’s property on Claverton Down. He’s the nutcase with the private army, Fight for Freedom.’

Georgina said in a frigid tone, ‘You don’t have to tell me about Cyril Nuttall. I know him, and “nutcase” isn’t a word I’d use.’

A warning light went on in Diamond’s head. ‘Is he a friend of yours?’

‘Hardly. He owns the property I lease.’

Wheels within wheels, Diamond thought. She’s worried about her tenure. Well, Georgina, my dear, some things have to take priority over your living arrangements. Prepare to hit the ceiling when you hear what your head of CID discovered here in cosy old Bath. ‘His son Royston showed up on the radar. I visited the house with one of my team with the intention of interviewing the lad. No one was about when we arrived so I took the opportunity to look around. There was a rifle range, which didn’t surprise me, knowing Nuttall’s reputation, and below it — hidden under boards in a former swimming pool — I discovered a secret armoury. A large collection of assault rifles. These weren’t sporting guns, ma’am, they were high-velocity killing machines, AK47s, G36s and MP5s. It was obvious they had to be reported at the first opportunity.’ He paused for effect and folded his arms. ‘That was my tip-off to HQ.’

‘So they informed me at 7:55 this morning,’ she said in a voice every bit as measured as his. ‘Acting on this tip-off of yours, a major operation was mounted, a pre-dawn raid on Mr. Nuttall’s house and grounds.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Diamond said, but that inner voice was telling him not to celebrate yet. Georgina wasn’t as impressed as she should have been. Something must have gone wrong with the raid. Had some idiot fired a live round?

Georgina was telling the story now. ‘Thirty trained officers from Bristol in full body armour with dogs. Once inside, they split into two groups. Half of them stormed the main house while the other half located the swimming pool and took it over. Cyril Nuttall and his son were roused at gunpoint.’

‘The guns were still there, weren’t they?’ Diamond said, baffled by the strong tone of disapproval in Georgina’s account.

‘Oh, yes, just as you described.’

‘At least seventy assault rifles of various makes?’

‘Yes,’ Georgina said. She made a long, alarming pause before adding, ‘And no.’

‘I don’t follow you.’

‘Seventy replica assault rifles. They’re fakes, made in China. Not one of them is capable of being fired.’

It Georgina had leapt over her desk and gone for his throat he couldn’t have been more surprised. ‘Never.’

‘You’d better believe it, Peter. This is a major cock-up. I’ve had my ear chewed by the Head of Operations. A raid like this doesn’t come cheap, you know, and highly trained officers aren’t amused at being bussed to Claverton in the small hours to pick up a load of plastic toys.’

‘They looked real to me.’

Georgina exhaled sharply. ‘The whole point of replicas is that they’re made to look real. They’re constructed with minute attention to detail. Even the weight and balance match the original. But the fact remains that they are not the genuine article. It was a wild-goose chase, a total shambles.’

‘Aren’t imitation guns still illegal?’ he said, clutching at straws.

‘Not on private property they’re not. Brandish one in the street and you’re committing an offence, but these are strictly for use in war games within the walls of Mr. Nuttall’s estate. He’s entitled to own them and play soldiers with them and so are his members, so long as they don’t venture outside.’

He clutched the back of his neck in despair. Nothing was going right.

Georgina was relentless. ‘Because of you, I’ve spent most of the morning grovelling. Headquarters are incandescent. Cyril Nuttall has been onto me several times threatening legal action for invasion of privacy, damage to property and wrongful arrest.’

‘Damage? What damage?’