Peter Lovesey - Skeleton Hill

‘Nice weather, big crowd.’ Diamond rolled his eyes. ‘Did that actually make the paper?’

‘It’s a local paper. They did a picture feature.’

He yawned at the thought and moved on mentally. ‘Another thing about 1993. The Lansdown Society was formed that year. Did Inge find a report of that?’

Halliwell frowned. ‘I don’t remember seeing it.’

‘I’m not surprised. They’re a cagy lot. Don’t go in for press releases.’

‘Are you trying to tell me my events chart is a waste of time?’ He put a hand on Halliwell’s shoulder. ‘Keith, you’re so right about me. I can be a pain. But I say this in complete sincerity.

You’re in charge of the skeleton enquiry. Be your own man and run it your way.’

The next morning was a low point. The Ukrainian Embassy phoned. They were unable to supply information on any of their nationals who may have gone missing in Britain since 1991. Halliwell’s mood swung back to almost suicidal. ‘We’ve hit the buffers again. I really believed we were getting somewhere yesterday,’ he told Diamond.

‘We were – and we did.’

‘And see where it led us.’

Diamond knew what it felt like to be moving on with optimism and then have a door slammed in your face. As team leader you took it personally – an experience new to Halliwell. Sympathy alone wouldn’t help.

‘There are no short cuts, Keith.’

‘I’m not asking for a short cut. I just want some movement. Bloody diplomats. Is it political, do you think? Don’t they want it made public that some of their people disappeared?’

‘It could be sheer numbers. You and I know about human trafficking from East Europe. It’s huge – an industry.’

‘You think trafficking is behind this?’

‘It accounts for a lot of missing people, young women in particular.’

‘Sex slaves?’

‘There’s also the black economy. East Europeans as a source of cheap labour, working long hours without work permits for cash in hand. You’ve seen it going on. Either way, no one in an embassy is going to have an accurate record of who is here, let alone who is missing.’

‘These are illegals you’re talking about?’

‘Some are for sure, using false travel documents or smuggled in. And some are lured here on false pretences. They come expecting jobs as waitresses or models and find their passports are taken away from them by gangmasters or pimps.’

Halliwell sighed. ‘For Christ’s sake, if we can’t go to the embassy for help on this, we’re screwed.’

‘No we’re not.’

‘You just said it’s a huge industry.’

‘And there’s always someone who knows. We have to get to the right person, that’s all.’

‘Oh yeah, and who’s that?’

‘I’ll think about it.’

The only exit line he could supply. He didn’t really have an answer.

He crossed the room to see Septimus, fully expecting another gripe, and instead got a more positive response. The Bristol team, he learned, had now got all the witness statements onto computer. They’d found the canteen and liked the all-day breakfast. They might even survive a few days in Bath.

‘I’m overjoyed to hear it,’ he said, ‘but I’m running a murder enquiry, not a holiday camp.’

‘Sure,’ Septimus said with the cool of an ocean breeze on a Caribbean beach. ‘We have an action plan.’

‘Which is…?’

‘Item One: we need to question the man who was with Rupert when they found the femur.’

‘Dave Barton? He was questioned already. We have a signed statement taken by Keith Halliwell.’

‘Yes.’ One word carrying such disapproval that Diamond hoped Halliwell hadn’t overheard it.

‘Are you thinking Barton is a suspect?’

‘He needs to answer some tough questions.’

‘Such as?’

‘Why didn’t he come forward when Rupert was reported missing?’

‘Keith asked him that. He doesn’t look at TV or read a paper.’ ‘So he claims.’

‘You don’t believe him? He did come forward finally.’

‘After it got serious.’

‘Well, he may have got alarmed when he heard about the murder, thinking he’d be an obvious suspect.’

‘That’s one way of looking at it,’ Septimus said, and it was obvious he had another way. ‘Equally, if he did the killing himself, he might get away with it by telling us a pack of lies, presenting himself as the good guy who was friendly enough to share his beer.’

‘What do you think happened, then?’

Septimus tilted his head and gave Diamond a searching look. ‘Do you really want my theory?’

‘If it stands up.’

‘Seems to me all this had something to do with the bone they found. I’ve looked at Dave Barton’s statement. Suppose he switched roles.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘He claims he buried the beer and offered some to Rupert. Suppose the reverse happened and it was Rupert who hid the beer and quite by chance happened to choose the spot where the girl was buried. Barton was watching. He had a special interest in watching.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he killed the girl twenty years ago. He’s in his forties now. He’s old enough.’

The theory intrigued Diamond. ‘Murdered her and buried her there?’

‘And thought he’d got away with it. A desolate spot on the side of a hill where not many people go and no one does any digging. Then the Civil War society announces it’s going to commemorate the battle. Hundreds of people are coming to the part of Lansdown where the body is buried. I’ve seen the fallen tree. You can’t miss it. It’s an obvious point of defence, the kind of place where soldiers might dig a latrine or set up camp. Barton gets worried and decides he’d better join the regiment to keep an eye on things.’

‘I believe he’s been in it some years.’

‘Okay, he joined a while ago. It’s some years since the first murder. Am I still making sense?’

‘Enough to keep me interested.’

‘Then Rupert comes along, first to bury the beer and later collect it. He’s a generous guy and when he meets Dave Barton he offers him a drink. To Dave’s horror, Rupert finds the bone and decides it belonged to a Civil War victim and wants to exca-v ate the site. Dave persuades him to rebury it, but has his doubts whether Rupert will let it stay buried. He keeps watch and later the same evening he sees Rupert return to the site. He follows him and cracks him over the head, and leaves him for dead. But Rupert recovers enough to wander about Lansdown for days in a confused state.’

‘Until Dave Barton finds out and finishes him off?’ Diamond rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Could it be as simple as that?’

‘Can I bring him in again?’

‘I think you’d better.’

‘Do you want this to be another voluntary statement? No arrest?’ ‘That would be preferable.’

He wasn’t entirely sure that the theory held up, but it demonstrated that Septimus was a thinker. Dave Barton was in for a searching examination.

In the quiet of his office Diamond grappled with the problem of the Ukrainian woman. He’d never had much confidence that the embassy would name her. At the time she went missing her country had been in ferment, emerging from the restrictions of the old Soviet system. They’d probably had a delegation looking after their interests in Britain rather than a fully fledged embassy. All these years later they weren’t going to produce a list of missing persons.

There’s always someone who knows, he’d said to Halliwell.

Easily said.

Okay, the young woman had disappeared and nobody seemed to have noticed. His remark to Keith – that she may have been trafficked – had something going for it.