Upon a Dark Night (40 page)

‘And there’s no earthly reason, is there, why Allardyce would have done the slashing himself and then reported it?’

‘I can’t think of one.’

‘So who else knew where the car was parked last night?’

She pondered the options. ‘Only Emma. But she’s supposed to be his lover. She had no reason either.’

‘Oh, but she had,’ he said. ‘She had a reason, Julie, a far better reason than anyone else.’

Emma was not sleeping. She was lying in the cell wrapped in the blanket, but that was to keep warm. When the door was unbolted, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

‘Straight answers, now,’ Diamond demanded. ‘Where did you take Rose?’

Her mouth tightened.

He told her, ‘William Allardyce isn’t home yet. We just came from there. His wife says he followed you when you went out this evening soon after seven.’

She drew in a sharp breath and still said nothing.

‘Emma, you don’t want another killing on your conscience. You’ve been protecting Rose. That’s why you disabled his car last night. Isn’t that so?’

She stared away at the blank wall, absorbing what he had said.

‘You put his car out of action to stop him following you. But he’s out there now and he came after you tonight. How long is it since you left Rose?’

Now, giving way to emotion at last, her face creased in anguish.

‘You loved the man,’ Diamond went on, still taking the tolerant line with her. ‘You had an affair and it went horribly wrong. He’s a killer twice over, your lover. He shot the old farmer, didn’t he? And he threw the woman off the roof of your house. You know he won’t stop at two. If Rose isn’t dead already, she will be shortly. Where is she, Emma? Where are you keeping Rose?’ He grasped her arms and practically shook her.

She turned her terrified eyes on him. ‘Prior Park Buildings.’

‘Where’s that? You’re coming with us.’

In the short drive across the Avon and out along Claverton Street, Diamond got some more things straight with Emma.

‘He was using you - you realise that? Putting you out front, getting the plans of Marton Farm through your official duties as a surveyor. No doubt you were excited by his stories of a fabulous hoard waiting to be dug up. But did you know he was willing to kill for it?’

She was ready to talk now that she understood the danger Rose was in. ‘William was jealous of Guy. He was so reasonable in every other way,’ she said in a voice drained of all emotion. ‘Totally charming and civilised, much more in control than my husband.’

‘You say “in every other way”.’

‘He had this obsession - there’s no other word for it-with beating Guy at his own game. Guy seems to lead a charmed life. You’ve heard us talk about his good luck, and it’s true. Well, his hobby is archaeology.’

‘William wanted to beat him at that?’

She nodded. ‘By making a sensational find. He read about an Anglo-Saxon sword dug up during the war.’

‘The Tormarton Seax.’

Diamond’s status improved several notches. she said after a surprised interval, ‘That’s right.’

‘Go on.’

‘Well, you seem to know about it. The family have never allowed anyone onto the land. Because of the war and the dog-in-the-manger attitude of the family, nothing actually happened after the sword was found. William researched the site. He sent me to the County Planning Office - which, of course, I’m familiar with - to copy maps of local burial sites. He read everything he could about the Anglo-Saxons and decided there was a real chance that other objects were waiting to be dug up. He believed it was worth buying the farm to make a search.’

‘Buying it? He was as confident as that?’

‘Massively confident.’

‘And you encouraged him?’

‘He didn’t need encouraging.’ She sighed and coloured a little. ‘It was the sure way of pleasing him.’

‘So what happened? He offered to buy the land?’

‘At a fair price. But old Mr Gladstone wouldn’t sell.’

‘One stubborn old farmer stood in his way. Wouldn’t even let you run a metal-detector over it.’

‘That wasn’t suggested. William was careful never to mention why he was interested in the farm. He said to me - and I think he was right - that any talk of possible finds would wreck the deal for ever.’

‘So when he couldn’t acquire the land by lawful means, he shot the old man.’

She was quick to close him down. ‘It wasn’t so crude as that. William visited the farm and made a good offer that Mr Gladstone turned down. He refused to leave the cottage. He’d been born there and he would die there, he said.’

‘And he did.’

She ignored that observation. ‘Then, William went back with a better idea. He would buy the land and the cottage on the understanding that Mr Gladstone would remain in the cottage as tenant - and for no rent. And William would pay for renovations as well. But it just seemed to inflame the old man.’

‘When was this?’

‘The Friday evening before…’

‘Before the body was found? And you were there?’

To confirm this could easily make her an accessory to murder, but she answered without hesitation, ‘Yes. The old man became angry. He ordered us out. He grabbed his shotgun off the wall and started waving it about really dangerously. I was terrified. William wrestled the gun away, holding it by the barrel. Mr Gladstone came at him and 312 William swung the gun at him. The heavy part you hold - what do you call it?’

‘The stock.’

‘Yes. The stock crashed against his head and he fell. I was appalled. It all happened so suddenly, and there he was lying on the floor. William was calm. He knelt beside him and tried to feel for a pulse to see if he was still alive. I was in a terrible state by then and he sent me out to the car. I waited there a long time, praying and praying that he wasn’t dead. Then to my absolute horror, I heard a shot. Terrible. I ran back and looked through the window. It was the worst moment of my life. The sight of that old man, what was left of him, propped in the chair.’

‘Did you go in?’

‘I couldn’t possibly.’

‘What did William tell you?’

‘That he’d made it look like a suicide. The only thing to do, he said, because the old man was dead from the blow to his head. He sat the body in the armchair and propped the gun under the chin and fired. It caused a massive injury to the head, so much that you wouldn’t have known he’d been hit previously.’

‘He was right about that.’

Better Let would have described the street as a superior terrace dating from the 1820s in a secluded location south-east of the city, set back from Prior Park Road by steeply banked gardens and the novel feature of a shallow canal. They left the car in Prior Park Road and approached the house by the path skirting the canal.

Emma, handcuffed, remained in the car, guarded by the driver. She had pointed out the house, and there was no reason to think she was bluffing. She wanted Rose to survive. Say what you like about Emma, in all her actions over the past days, Rose’s safety had been paramount.

Two response cars had been ordered to the scene, bringing six uniformed officers - not bad, Diamond reckoned, for the small hours of the morning. Bath was not geared up to night emergencies.

Three men went to the garden at the rear of the house to cover a possible escape through the alley.

No lights were on in the house Emma had named. But they were turned on next door, and the curtains twitched. ‘The Neighbourhood Watch strikes again,’ muttered Diamond, rolling his eyes.

The curtains had not been drawn in the ground floor flat where Rose was supposedly in hiding. He shone a torch through the window. Nothing moved inside.

Over the personal radio, the officers at the back reported that no one was visible in either of the two rooms at the rear.

‘We’ll go in, then.’

They forced the front door and made a search. Signs of recent occupation encouraged them, a half-eaten chicken sandwich in the kitchen that was still soft and moist to the touch and a faintly warm teapot. But no one was there. No signs of a scuffle, even.

‘Where’s he taken her?’ said Julie.

‘Anywhere from Pulteney Weir to Clifton Suspension Bridge. Fake suicides are his m.o.’ He returned to the car and contacted headquarters. They already had a call out on Allardyce’s BMW. No one had sighted it.

He got into the back seat beside Emma. ‘You know where he must have taken her, don’t you?’

She shook her head.

‘I think you do. We need your help, Emma, if we’re going to save Rose’s life.’

She cried out in anguish, ‘I’d tell you if I knew. I’m on her side. God, I’ve spent the last two weeks hiding her from him.’

‘What state is she in mentally? Is her memory back?’

‘Hardly at all. I’ve told her some things I thought she should know. She knows what happened to her father, but I don’t think she remembers finding him.’

‘She
found him dead?’

‘A couple of days later, yes.’

‘So she knows her father was murdered?’

‘No. I simply said he was found dead with a shotgun beside him. I was trying to be truthful without saying everything.’

‘She still thinks you’re her stepsister?’

‘Yes.’

‘And William. She has no suspicion that he killed her father?’

‘She doesn’t know who William is. I told her a little about the farm being a possible Anglo-Saxon site. I said the man who tried to force her into the car the other day must be a treasure-hunter who thinks she knows about precious objects her father may have unearthed.’

‘And that was Allardyce, of course?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who was driving?’ Julie asked.

‘I was.’

‘You?’ said Diamond.

‘Wearing a baseball hat.’

‘Nobody got a look at the driver,’ said Julie.

‘There’s something wrong here,’ Diamond said. ‘That car wasn’t the BMW Allardyce uses. It was a red Toyota according to Ada.’

‘A Toyota Previa. It took a dent in the side from Ada. He had to get it off the road until it was repaired, so he rented the BMW, until yesterday, when he got his regular car back,’ Emma said.

He hesitated. ‘You’re telling me the BMW isn’t his damned car? Julie, we’re looking for the wrong motor. What’s the Toyota’s number?’

Emma told him and he radioed central communications.

He turned back to her. ‘You say she doesn’t know who William is, but she knows a man is pursuing her. She knows he’s dangerous.’

‘He terrifies her.’

He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. The tension was getting to him. He was striving to second-guess the outcome of this meeting between the terrified young woman and the double murderer. ‘If she isn’t killed straight off - and I don’t think she has been, because he’ll want to dress it up as a suicide - her only chance is to bluff him. Does she have the self-control to do it?’

He’d been speaking his thoughts and he didn’t expect an answer, but Emma said, ‘To do what?’

‘You say he’s obsessed with the idea of finding a hoard. You mean really obsessed?’

‘It’s taken over his life.’

‘Does Rose know he’s so fanatical?’

‘She’s in no doubt about that. I had to get her to understand why I was trying to protect her.’

Diamond leaned forward and grasped the driver’s shoulder. ‘Tormarton. We’re going up to the farm.’ He lowered the window and shouted to Julie to get in. In seconds, all three cars were moving at speed in convoy, with beacons flashing, up Pulteney Road, heading north.

‘She’s bright enough to have thought of it, but is she cool enough?’ he said to no one in particular.

Julie turned to look at him.

He said, ‘The surefire way to buy time from a killer like this is to offer him the thing he craves - an Anglo-Saxon hoard. She tells him what? What would I tell him? What would either of you tell him in desperation? She bluffs. She says it’s a family secret that the stuff was dug up years ago and stored away in the house. Yes, inside the house. She’s willing to show him. It’s all his if he’ll spare her life.’

Julie digested this. ‘It’s asking a lot - for her to think up a story as good that.’

‘If she hasn’t come up with something, we might as well get some sleep and drag the river in the morning.’

Thirty-two

With Emma, the softly-softly approach seemed to be the right one. Diamond spoke with more steadiness than he felt whilst being driven through the cluttered streets of Bath at a speed appropriate to a three-lane motorway.

‘This help you’re giving us won’t be forgotten.’

She didn’t respond.

It was crucial to discover the likely behaviour of the killer they hoped to find at Tormarton.

‘Emma, we’re trying to save Rose’s life. We need to know more about his dealings with her. When did he first meet her?’

‘When she turned up at the farm on the Sunday afternoon.’

He paused, trying to follow the sequence of events. ‘Let me get this straight. You told me old Mr Gladstone was killed on the Friday evening. Now you’re talking about Sunday afternoon?’

She nodded. ‘A couple of days after.’

‘You say William went back to the farm?’

‘He went back on the Saturday and the Sunday.’

‘What for?’

‘To go over the ground. Use the metal detector. Dig for gold or silver or whatever is buried there.’

He breathed out audibly, vibrating his lips. ‘With the old man lying dead in the house? He was taking one hell of a risk.’

Emma, beside him, spread her hands. ‘That’s how fixated he is. I told you it’s an obsession. There’s no other word for it.’

‘The chance to get rich quick? Does he have money problems?’

‘They live beyond their means, but it’s more personal than that. He’s desperate to prove something.’

‘To you?’

‘To himself. Oh, he started out wanting to impress me, to show me that he’s a winner, much smarter than Guy.’

‘By stealing you from your husband?’

She was silent a moment. ‘I haven’t thought of it like that. I was carried along by the passion he put into it. Stupidly, I thought he was doing it all for me. A treasure hunt, with just the two of us sharing a secret. Flattered, yes. Any woman would be, to have a man care so much about her. I let him make love to me. But it’s been brought home to me that I’m of secondary importance. He’ll carry on regardless of anything I say.’