Peter Lovesey - The Secret Hangman

‘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.’

‘Did anyone visit you in your room?’

‘No.’

‘She didn’t phone?’

‘The waitress? No.’

‘Is there any way you can prove you were in the hotel? Did you make any calls yourself?’

‘It was after midnight. You don’t start phoning people in the small hours.’

‘You didn’t ask for room service?’

‘I took a shower and got into bed.’

‘Next morning did you have breakfast in the hotel?’

‘I don’t bother with breakfast. I left early.’

‘After checking out?’

An impatient sigh. ‘They had a voucher from my firm’s travel agent. If I have any extras they have my card details, so I didn’t need to.’

‘You got in your car and drove away without speaking to a soul?’

‘You’re making me sound like a guilty man.’

‘Agreed, Mr Monnington. It’s a pity, because we’ve only got your word for it that you spent the night in the Hilton. May we look inside your car?’

‘What’s that going to tell you?’

‘We believe the victim was driven to the park where she was found.’

‘Fuck off, will you?’ His salesman’s facade had crashed.

Diamond reached for the door. ‘We’ll take a look at your car.’

Outside, Angie was waiting. She may have heard it all. If so, she wasn’t giving much away. ‘Are you finished? Your meal’s ready, Dalt.’

‘Shove it in the oven.’

‘Charming. You’re not going out, are you?’

He ignored her and led the detectives out to the black Mondeo. Diamond asked him to unlock it. ‘Nice condition. When was it cleaned?’

‘Yesterday.’

‘So recently?’

‘I’m meeting clients all the time. Appearances matter.’

Leaman had the door open. ‘Valeted inside as well as out.’

Diamond unfastened the boot and looked inside. ‘The full works, by the look of it.’ He leaned over for a closer inspection. A vacuuming doesn’t always remove everything. That young DC Gilbert was right. A single hair, a piece of fingernail, an eyelash even, could prove that Delia Williamson’s body had been lying here. But he couldn’t see anything obvious. He said to Leaman, ‘Got your phone? I’d like a crime scene expert to go over this.’

From the doorway, Angie called out, ‘Don’t they need a warrant, or something?’

‘Yes, where’s your warrant?’ Monnington asked Diamond while Leaman was using the mobile.

‘Why? Aren’t you going to cooperate?’

‘This car is my livelihood.’

‘Because if you get awkward, we can look at the tread on your tyres and check your emissions. Why don’t you leave this to us? Go and eat.’

This salesman wasn’t equal to Diamond’s hard sell. With a shrug and a shake of the head he left them to it.

Wimbledon CID said they would arrange for a crime scene investigator to come out within the hour. She was faster than that, under twenty minutes. She looked about seventeen, but had the confidence of someone twice that age. She put on her white zipper overall — causing some curtains to twitch across the street — and went over the interior of the car and the boot minutely, using adhesive strips to lift fibres and particles and then a hand vacuum for anything she might have missed.

‘Would you still buy one of his hot tubs?’ Diamond asked Leaman on the drive home.

‘Possibly not, guv, but we didn’t see him at his best.’

‘At his best! He was bricking it from start to finish.’

‘He didn’t want Angie finding out too much.’

‘Angie — or you and me?’

‘Any of us, I guess.’

Diamond said nothing while they made a turn at a roundabout. London drivers took no prisoners. He took it up again with: ‘Would you say it was one big lie, about returning to the hotel and spending the night there?’

‘He went back to the hotel without a doubt.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘He’d left his room number, hadn’t he? He’d have been waiting to see if she called.’

‘Good point.’ There was logic in what Leaman was saying. He could be a pain, but he was one of the brightest on the squad. ‘Did she visit his room or did he go out to meet her? That’s the question. Did you notice any CCTV at the Hilton?’