A Killing kindness

'Ha ha,' said Pascoe. 'Explain.'

'Well, if we look at the phonetic realization of those phonemes we find in both utterances, we can spot the following. In the word to, (A) uses a central vowel while (D) has a close back vowel. Like this.'

Gladmann demonstrated, Pascoe looked doubtful, Gladmann repeated the demonstration, Pascoe echoed the sounds, hesitantly at first, then with more certainty.

'By George, you've got it. I think you've got it,' said Gladmann.

'I could have danced all night,' rejoined Pascoe. 'Go on.'

'Next take (A)'s now and (D)'s out. (D) has the usual RP diphthong in which the glide begins with an unrounded open back vowel, whereas (A) has a diphthong in which the glide begins from much further forward and nearer a half open position.'

Again the demonstration.

'Note also,' continued Gladmann, the bit between his teeth now, 'that where (D)'s stressed-syllable-initial voiceless plosives (as in time and cursed) are aspirated, in (A) they are not.'

'Hang on. What does that mean?'

'Well, when they're aspirated, they're said with a little puff of air accompanying the release…'

'I know what aspirated means, also exasperated,' said Pascoe. 'But what does it signify?'

'Ah, always the policeman,' said Gladmann sadly. 'You could say that the aspiration is normal in RP, and its absence often occurs in Northern regional accents. Similarly, while the one final voiceless plosive we find in (D), that is, in spite, is unreleased, in (A) all the final voiceless plosives are globalized.'

'You mean, spat out?'

'If you like,' said Gladmann, as if disheartened.

'So, conclusions please.'

'If you must,' said Gladmann, '(D) is fairly simple. He speaks RP of a kind he probably learned in a middle-class home and during the course of an education, not necessarily private, but certainly grammar school and probably in the Home Counties. There are a couple of relatively conservative features of his version of RP which underline these conclusions. When he says 0, the glide of the diphthong begins with a centralized back vowel quality and in born his pronunciation of the vowel is diphthongal rather than the monophthongal one common among younger RP speakers.'

'Yes, yes,' said Pascoe impatiently. 'And (A)?'

'Here we would say there has been a fairly marked regional accent which has been changed, for whatever reason, towards a modified RP. Some regional features remain. Northern, certainly. Drew Urquhart did some field work in dialectology in north Derbyshire last summer and he claims he got an odd echo from those parts, but he tends to be a bit obsessive about his own interests.'

'OK,' said Pascoe. 'What about the others.'

'Well, they say rather less, but fortunately say it rather more revealingly in regional terms. One may smile and smile, and be a villain. Note the giveaway one, the diphthongal pronunciation of the vowel in be and the very close articulation of the first vowel in villain. West Midlands, certainly. Birmingham, very likely. And even you, I'm sure, Inspector, spotted that (C) was a Scot. The final 'r' in or tells all, though if you want further evidence, you could point to the use of a closer back vowel for not than an educated Englishman would employ.'

'That's excellent,' said Pascoe, not sure if it was or not. 'And these are the sonograms I suppose. What do they tell us?'

He picked up some lengths of thin paper printed with wavy varying vibration patterns above a scale.

'They help to confirm that four different speakers are involved,' said Gladmann. 'And if you're fortunate enough, or perhaps unfortunate enough, to get another message on tape, they'd help us work out which of these four it might have come from. Do you think that one of these is definitely this Choker chappie?'

'It's very likely,' said Pascoe.

'Well, I hope you get him. Though incidentally, young Drew asked me to be certain to reiterate his objection to the use of our findings in any but the most peripheral supportive role.'

'Did he?' said Pascoe. 'Well, thank him, and tell him we won't rush into anything, though over the next month we hope to arrest the entire population of Scotland and the West Midlands on suspicion.'

He stood up and held out his hand.

Gladmann took it and held it a little longer than convention required. Not all the spots on his bow tie were in the original pattern, Pascoe noticed. He got a sense that the man was rather lonely and glad of the contact involved in helping the police with their enquiries.

'Which part of the world are you from, Mr Gladmann?' he heard himself asking. It was not the most diplomatic of questions even to a duller mind than the linguist's.

'Surrey,' he answered with a half smile. 'Good solid bourgeois background. Old grammar school, nice class of kid. And I got my first degree in Eng. Lit., Renaissance drama a speciality. Good day to you, now, Inspector. Don't forget. Call on me at any time.'

Pascoe sat and ruminated on what Gladmann had told him for a few minutes, but then he put the report and the tapes away in a filing cabinet and got down to some overdue paperwork. Tomorrow, Saturday, should be his day off and he wanted to be as up to date as possible.

After half an hour he was interrupted by the return of DC Preece.

No 73 Danby Row, he reported, was the property of one Hubert Valentine, who worked in the Rates and Valuation department of the local council and who was presently on holiday in Minorca with his wife. His seventeen-year-old daughter, Andrea, was alone in the house.

'Very tasty,' said Preece, grinning salaciously. 'I told her I was on a consumer research survey for a big record company. What did she buy, what did her parents buy? It all came out. Very friendly girl.'

What had also come out was that Andrea was a sixth-form pupil at the Bishop Crump Comprehensive School. Preece's description fitted the girl Pascoe had seen leaving Wildgoose's flat that morning.

He dismissed Preece and got back to work, but a few minutes later, Dalziel burst in.

'Bloody lab,' he said. 'A few residuals, nothing. The watch is one of them digital things, new. Waterproof so they can't say if it's been in the water or not. No way of tracing where it was bought. The ring's nine carat gold. There's an inscription inside. All my love all my life. And there's a monogram on the signet. Too fancy to be clear with all them curlicues and things but it could be MLA or WTA. Neither of the things has been reported missing.'

Pascoe rose and went to his filing cabinet.

'What about TAM?' he said.

'What about it?'

'Tommy Maggs's middle name is Arthur.'

He passed on Wield's thought about the holiday-making jeweller.

'That's possible. That'd explain a lot,' said Dalziel. 'There's a brain behind that ugly mask. When's this jeweller expected back?'

'Tomorrow, the notice on his door said, according to Wield.'

'Right. We'll be waiting for him. Meanwhile, let's assume that he did provide the ring and the watch. So, Brenda draws out the cash, spends some of it on the watch and the ring – which must have been ordered in advance, obviously, to get the inscription done. And somehow the whole bloody lot ends up in Lee's caravan. That bugger's got some explaining to do!'

'Not for a while yet,' said Pascoe, telling him about the operation.

'At least we know where he is. Do you know what time it is, lad?'

'Late,' said Pascoe.

'Nigh on opening time. Let's wash the day away.'

Pascoe demurred, but Dalziel was not in a mood to be denied.

'It's your day off tomorrow, isn't it? Ellie will see quite enough of you then. It's being scarce that makes a thing valuable.'

A quick one, then,' conceded Pascoe.

As he tidied up his desk, he told the fat man about Gladmann's findings. Dalziel was unimpressed.

'Linguists, psychiatrists, crap-merchants the lot of them.'