Peter Lovesey: The Vault

"The only call he made that evening was to Peg Redbird at ten past six, arranging to meet her later. He used a false name on the phone, of course, and-this is only my theory, I have to say-offered to give her a prior look at some mouth-watering antique on offer at the antiques fair starting next day in the Assembly Rooms. Unknown to Sturr, Peg had a prior engagement. She was putting the screws on a forger called Uncle Evan. That's a story for another time. All that matters here is that Evan told me Peg was most particular about getting back to the shop by eleven.

"So, at eleven or soon after, he calls at Noble and Nude, where the first thing he sees is the writing box sitting on Peg's desk. She's surprised to find that her mystery caller is John Sturr, but not alarmed. He says he has something of exceptional interest outside in the car. Ever alert to a bargain, but not her own safety, Peg thinks he must be about to offer her another of Mary Shelley's possessions. She goes with him round the back of the shop to the car. He bashes her over the head, killing her, and moves the body the short distance to the river and drops her in, confident it will look like an accident, the injury caused by the fall. Then he goes back into Noble and Nude, picks up the writing desk and drives home. It's not much after eleven-thirty and Ingeborg is still where he left her, listening to the same CD. Is that fair, Police Cadet Smith?"

Ingeborg spoke up clearly. "It may not be fair, sir, but it's true."

"What happened after?"

She looked up in surprise. "Do you really want to know?"

"You were there," said Diamond. "You can tell it better than me."

"All right. It was like that famous quote from Sherlock Holmes about the curious incident of the dog in the night-time. Watson said, 'But the dog did nothing in the night-time' and Holmes said, 'That was the curious incident.' "

"You mean…?"

"My date did nothing in the night-time. I should have known something was up-because he wasn't."

There was laughter. Police Cadet Smith was a definite addition to the strength at Manvers Street.

JOE DOUGAN and the luggage finally arrived at the Paris Ritz the next afternoon. He was tired. The Bath police had kindly driven him to the train station early that morning, but the last forty-eight hours had been stressful. Relieved to have the bell-captain take charge of those enormous suitcases, he stepped over to the check-in.

The young woman on duty asked him his name and he gave it, adding, "My wife arrived at the end of last week."

"Yes, sir," she said in the delightful way Parisiennes have of speaking English, "I 'ope Madame Dougan enjoyed her days shopping."

"I'm sure she has. Now, if you tell me the number of our suite…"

"One minute, if you please, professor." She picked a note from the rack behind her. "A little note for you."

Sighing, Joe opened the envelope and took out a short letter in Donna's handwriting:

Joe, Baby,

I finished shopping here. The bell captain has charge of the two suitcases I bought here, cosmetic case and hatboxes. Would you be an angel and pick them up for me? I figured you were sure to want to make the trip to Switzerland to look up the place where Frankenstein was first thought of, so I booked us in at the Intercontinental in Geneva. I'm told the Swiss jewelry shops are something special.

See you as soon as you can fix a flight. Don't forget the baggage, will you?

Your ever loving,

Donna XXX