Peter Lovesey - Skeleton Hill

‘At whose suggestion?’

‘I don’t remember. We agreed it was the right thing to do, anyway.’

‘No argument?’

‘No.’

‘And you went back to the battle?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Did you see Rupert again?’

He shook his head.

‘And after the battle was over?’

‘No. I’ve never seen him since.’

‘We’ll leave now,’ Miss Tower said.

‘I haven’t finished,’ Septimus told her. ‘You like a drink or two, Dave?’

‘Irrelevant. Don’t answer that,’ Miss Tower said.

‘I’m sorry,’ Septimus said, ‘but I have every right to ask. Dave is an important witness and we need to establish if his evidence would hold up under cross-examination.’

‘Good for you,’ Diamond said on his side of the glass.

Miss Tower said, ‘He’s not in court. He’s co-operating and you appear to be about to cast a slur on his behaviour.’

Septimus said, ‘He testified to me that he hid a six-pack of lager in the ground before the battle. He also testified to DI Halliwell that he hadn’t heard Rupert Hope was missing and this was because he gets out in the evenings, usually to the pub. Now, Dave, let’s address this. Did you drink at all prior to joining in the battle?’

‘A couple at lunch. I was stone cold sober, if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘Can you be more specific? One pint, two, three…?’

‘How would I remember?’ Dave said.

‘Gotcha!’ Diamond said.

Septimus said, ‘You seem to remember your meeting with Rupert in some detail, but you can’t remember how many you had at lunch.’

‘I can handle my drink.’

‘Are you quite sure you buried six cans of lager before the battle?’

‘I told you. You know what a six-pack is?’

‘And at that stage were you aware of anyone watching?’

‘Definitely. One of the other army came past. Waller’s lot, roundhead, thieving bastard.’

‘You think he had the other four cans?’

‘I’m certain of it. I’ve been over it in my mind lots of times. Who else would have known?’

‘Do you remember what he was like?’

‘Cavalry.’

‘Are you certain of that?’

‘Come on. He was on a big white stallion, wasn’t he?’

‘A pale horse,’ Septimus said, more to himself than the witness. ‘And he passed really close.’

‘Would you recognise him again?’

‘I would if I saw him on the horse.’

‘Did he say anything?’

‘No. He raised his whip, but friendly like. Some friend.’

‘And were you in uniform at the time?’

‘My red coat and woollen breeches. Not the armour. It was too early for that and too bloody hot.’

‘So would he have known you were in the rival army?’

‘No problem, and I reckon he had a good laugh, nicking the enemy’s beer.’

‘He had the decency to leave some.’

‘That’s what my mate Rupert said, and I told him if that was decent, forget it.’

‘When you and Rupert parted, were you still friendly?’

‘Of course we were. I’d shared my beer with him, hadn’t I?’

‘Would it have angered you if he’d returned later to the fallen tree and dug out the bone?’

Dave frowned. ‘Why would he do that?’

‘He may have thought it was of historical interest.’

‘I get you. I’d have been slightly narked, after we agreed to let it rest in peace.’

‘Did you go back to check?’

‘No chance. After it was over, I was in the beer tent. You get up a thirst in these battles.’

‘And did you drive home after?’

Miss Tower slammed her hand on the table. ‘Don’t answer that.’

Dave stared at Septimus and gave a faint smile. ‘You see? I knew I needed my brief with me.’

Diamond had been at his lowest point, hunting the murderer of his wife, when he had last seen Louis Voss. His old colleague had managed to trace a crucial contact. If Louis didn’t already know what was happening in London, he would know someone who did. Nobody in the Met was better at working the grapevine. Officially Louis was a civilian now, but still at Fulham nick, managing what he called his team of computer cuties. The loss of CID status hadn’t cramped his style one bit.

This morning he was in the saloon bar of the Fox and Pheasant, off the Fulham Road, when Diamond arrived about eleven with Keith Halliwell. The lop-sided smile was punctuated by a wink. ‘Black Baron, gents? Much needed, I reckon, after the M4. And I bet I know who wasn’t driving.’

‘We’d still be on the road if I was,’ Diamond said.

Louis was right. They’d come in Diamond’s car, now roadworthy again, with Halliwell acting as chauffeur.

‘Keith, meet my old friend Louis, the wizard of ops, as he’s known.’

‘Was,’ Louis said. ‘I’m just a geek now. What’s your part in this, Keith, apart from driving him at forty miles an hour, maximum?’

Diamond said, ‘He’s the main man, the SIO on the case.’

Louis greeted this with a faintly amused look and then went to order the drinks. He could remember every trick Diamond had ever pulled.

‘Nice of him,’ Halliwell said.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ Diamond said. ‘We’ll find he’s started a slate in my name. I know this guy of old.’

‘We can go halves,’ Halliwell offered.

‘That’s all right. We’ll need to fill up with petrol on the way home. You can take care of that.’

One more trick. Unfortunately there was no one Halliwell could clobber.

Louis returned with their pints. ‘Make the most of this,’ he said. ‘You’ll be on straight vodkas later.’

‘Who have you lined up for us?’

‘This hasn’t been easy. There’s a lot of suspicion. The Ukrainians are charming people, but if they once suspect you’re from immigration, you’re as welcome as a bowl of cold borsch.’

‘They can’t all be illegals.’

‘I mean it, Peter. Watch your back.’

‘Nothing new about that.’

‘Don’t make any assumptions. They’ve been through every kind of hardship back home: wretched conditions, ten thousand per cent inflation, rationing, the nuclear disaster at Chernobyl. When independence came, it didn’t make the difference they hoped for. There was corruption, organised crime, Mafia killings. It took the Orange Revolution to make a real break.’

‘The Ukrainians over here interest me more.’

Louis grinned. ‘Fair enough. And you’ve come to the right place. Waves of them arrived here in the nineties. Life at home was so harsh, particularly for women, that a lot of the young got out. These escapees are mainly the people you’ll meet, in their thirties and forties now.’

‘The woman we’re interested in would have been around twenty when she was killed,’ Halliwell said, impatient to get to the point. ‘We don’t know why she came to Bath.’

‘Nice place. Why shouldn’t she?’ Louis said.

‘We think she could have been trafficked.’

‘To Bath? For sex?’

‘Bristol, more likely.’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me. Trafficking of Ukrainian women is a big problem. The numbers must run into thousands.’

‘Hundreds of thousands actually,’ Halliwell said. ‘The Ukrainian Ministry of the Interior reckoned four hundred thousand in the last decade of the twentieth century. That’s to all countries, not just Britain.’

Louis exchanged a glance with Diamond as if to say gawdelpus, what have you brought with you?

Diamond said, ‘Keith does his research.’

Louis gave a nod. ‘Okay, but let’s remember the majority come here freely and get work permits. What’s the background on your missing woman?’

‘A Ukrainian zip fly,’ Diamond said.