Peter Lovesey - The House Sitter

“Not easy to find out without talking to him,” she said.

“I know. You may get nothing. The problem is that Emma Tysoe didn’t share her confidences. The people up at the university weren’t much help when I talked to them. You might do better than me. There was a black woman called Helen Sparks who seemed to know her better than most.”

“They’ll be off on vacation, most of them.”

Ignoring that, Diamond added, “See if she knows anything at all about Bellman.”

“I’ll get onto it right away.”

“I haven’t finished. We didn’t get much out of Bellman’s employers, either. This lot who call themselves Knowhow & Fix. Have a session with them. We don’t have to worry any more about alerting the fox. He knows we’re on the scent. In particular find out where he worked previously. He mentioned somewhere in London.”

“SW1,” said Ingeborg. “And he claimed he was living in Putney at the time.”

“See if that’s true, then. I want the authentic life history.”

“Understood.”

“And Ingeborg…”

“Guv?”

“Got any plans for this evening?”

She blinked, uncertain what he was about to suggest. “Not much-I think.”

“You think ?”

She’d coloured deeply. “There could be something in my diary I’ve forgotten.”

“Check it, then. You can do some overtime. Impress me with your efforts. You could swing this case yourself.”

She looked relieved. Eyes shining with so much responsibility, she returned to the incident room.

Shortly after ten next morning Diamond took the lift to the top floor of the Bath Spa Hotel. No news, he hoped, was good news-but he knew of course that policemen can’t afford to rely on hope. John Leaman, looking tired but comfortable, was seated in an armchair outside the Beau Nash Suite with the Daily Mirror across his knees. Diamond approached unseen.

“Did the management provide this for you?”

Leaman rose like a startled pheasant. “Morning, guv. What was that?”

“The chair?”

“That was Anna’s idea. It comes from inside.”

“You’re on first-name terms, then?”

“She suggested it.”

“How’s it been? Quiet?”

“Remarkably.”

“She is still in there, I suppose?”

“Well, she hasn’t come out, guv. The breakfast went in about nine-fifteen.”

Diamond said in a taut voice, “What do you mean-went in? You allowed someone to go in there?”

“Room service, guv.”

“And you didn’t go in with him? Christ almighty, man. He could have been the Mariner. What do you think you’re here for?” Diamond pressed the bell on the door.

There was an agonising delay before they heard footsteps inside, and it was opened. Anna Walpurgis, triumphantly still of this world, looked out. “My shopping escort! What a star!” she said. “It doesn’t get better than this. Five minutes to finish my face, guys. Come in, and wait.” Leaving the door ajar, she vanished inside.

Knowing every word would be repeated with relish in the Manvers Street canteen, Diamond said curtly to Leaman, “You’re in the clear, then. She survived. Go home and get some sleep.”

An order Leaman was only too pleased to obey.

Inside the main room, Diamond found more of the morning papers scattered about. A Flintstones cartoon was showing on the widescreen TV. A strong whiff of perfume wafted from the open door of the bathroom, more musky than the brand Hen used to mask her cigar smells. He helped himself to a banana from the fruit bowl and unpeeled it.

He’d assumed her five minutes would mean at least twenty, and that was an underestimate by ten. But he didn’t complain. He was comfortable looking at the papers with half an eye on the TV.

When she did emerge from the bathroom she was in skintight black velvet trousers with vents showing portions of hip and thigh. Her small, sleeveless, gipsy top announced to the world that she was not wearing a bra. To top it off, a black hat the size of a police helmet, but with the added feature of a vast floppy brim.

“What do you think?” she asked him.

Tact was wanted here, he thought. He got to his feet and gave her the full appraisal. “Amazing.”

“Let’s go, then. I’m in serious need of retail therapy.”

He cleared his throat. “Allowing that we’re trying to keep a low profile, maybe the hat is just a little too eye-catching.”

“A fashion statement,” she told him cheerfully, as if that answered his objection. “I’ll be wearing my shades.”

He tried another tack. “Before we do any shopping, we’ll be moving you to your new address in Bennett Street.”

“You and whose army?”

Prickling, he reminded her, “I told you about this yesterday.”

“Change of plan,” she said sweetly. “This hotel will do for me.”

“Sorry. It’s a security measure.”

“Another of these crap safe houses? You’re not going to spoil my day before we even start on the shops?”

“Not a safe house.”

“Unsafe,” she said, with a mocking laugh.

He rephrased it. “Safe, but not in the Special Branch sense. This will be your own pad, a beautiful Georgian house in Bennett Street, one of the most exclusive areas of the city. It links with the Circus. Saville Row, with its antique shops, is just across the street. The Assembly Rooms are-”

She butted in, “What were you called again?”

“Diamond. Peter Diamond.”

She linked her arm under his. “I know you mean well, Pete, but I’m comfortable here. The shower works and the waiters are good-looking. What else could I require? So let’s you and me chill out a little and take a hike around the shops.”

“I don’t like to spoil the fun,” he said, disentangling himself, “but I’ve got to insist. The move has to be done before we see a single shop. Where are your cases?”

“Room Service took them away.”

He picked up a phone and dialled the front desk.

She said, “This is getting to be a pain.”

“I’m having them sent up.”

“Masterful,” she said with irony.

“Only thinking of your safety.”

“Like I haven’t heard that a zillion times in the past two weeks?”

“Why don’t you start folding your clothes?” he said to her just as someone answered the phone. He explained that Miss Walpurgis would be checking out shortly and required her suitcases.

Tony from Special Branch had not exaggerated. Five large cases presently came up on a trolley. Their owner, uninterested, was sitting on the sofa watching Tom and Jerry. Diamond tipped the man himself.

Alone with her again, he eyed the luggage, wondering what she could find to fill it. “I’ll have a job getting all these in my car.”

“Don’t bother, then,” Anna told him.

“Are you going to pack, or would you like me to do it?”

“‘For you, Johnny, ze war is over.’”

“I’m going to make a start.” He opened the hanging space behind the door and unhooked several coats.

She said, “Do you blow fire as well?” Swinging her legs off the sofa, she got up and picked one of the empty cases off the trolley and carried it into the bedroom.

He’d won the first round.

The packing took a few minutes over the half-hour. Each bulging case had to be forced down before the zip-fastening would work.

“And you still want to buy more clothes?” he said in disbelief.

“Louis Vuitton expects… I can always get another suitcase,” she said.

They called the bell-captain and arranged for the laden trolley to be moved downstairs.

Down in the lobby, Anna insisted on paying for her stay. “This was my choice of hotel,” she said.