‘No scope for development in this city,’ Ed said. ‘Wherever you turn there are preservation orders.’
‘Ed’s company only takes on large-scale projects,’ Sally said. ‘Anything under five hundred houses doesn’t interest them.’
‘Between ourselves, house building isn’t the way to go any more,’ Ed said. ‘Too much government interference. I told them what they can do with their affordable housing. We take on big commercial builds.’
‘Police stations?’ Georgina said on a sudden impulse.
‘What?’
They both stared at her.
‘We were forced to sell our building in Manvers Street.’
‘To the university. I know about that,’ Ed said.
‘And since then we’ve been moved from pillar to post. We have to lease buildings. We’re currently in Concorde House, out at Emersons Green, and the lease runs out in a few years. A new purpose-built police station would be wonderful.’
‘For you, maybe,’ Ed said.
‘For the community.’
‘Stuff that.’
‘Ed does a lot for the community already,’ Sally said. She was clearly used to smoothing the way when her husband came out with such putdowns. ‘New supermarkets make a difference to people’s lives. He builds schools. A church once.’
The mention of supermarkets had triggered something in Georgina’s brain. ‘You wouldn’t be speaking about the site at Twerton, by any chance?’
‘Twerton?’ Ed said. ‘No, that’s one of my rivals. He’s a cheapskate. Did you read in the paper about the skeleton? They were using a wrecking ball, would you believe? Everyone uses hydraulic excavators these days. If they’d brought one in for the demolition the damned skeleton would never have been found and I’d have been saved no end of grief.’
‘Grief? Why?’
‘The Beau Nash suit and Y-fronts. Guess who’s known for wearing both. Old flames I hadn’t heard from for years got in touch to see if I was dead. My ex told her solicitor to put in a claim for a slice of my estate.’
‘The whole thing was weird,’ Sally said. ‘Are you any closer to knowing who the man was?’
‘We have some ideas about his age and appearance, but it’s still a mystery,’ Georgina said. ‘It may be one of those cases that never gets solved.’
‘He was murdered, wasn’t he?’ Ed said.
‘Apparently, and I have our top detective working on it.’
‘He hasn’t spoken to me.’
‘If you can throw any light, I’m sure he’d be only too pleased to meet you.’
‘When did the murder happen?’
‘Anything up to twenty-five years ago going by the style of the victim’s underwear.’
‘Too far back. I didn’t join the society until 2000. I’m the millennium Beau. I can’t tell you much about what happened before then.’
‘Professor Plum,’ Sally said.
‘Is that a joke?’ Georgina asked.
‘Only between Ed and me,’ Sally said. ‘Silly private joke. He was the previous Beau, the one Ed took over from. Professor Orville Duff. You must have heard of plum duff.’
‘Do you know what happened to him?’
‘Well, he isn’t your skeleton, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ Ed said. ‘He was cremated. I went to the funeral along with most of the society. One of them spoke the eulogy and we all went back for a drink to his memory at the Garrick’s Head, our favourite watering place. You know why?’
‘I can’t say I do.’
‘It was where the Beau lived. The real Beau. The original.’
‘I see. And who was the president before Professor Duff?’
‘Offhand, I couldn’t tell you. Before my time. I could find out. Some of our older members were around then.’
‘Ideally, my SIO should speak to them. I’m sure Detective Superintendent Diamond would find it helpful.’
‘Send him along. We have a meeting a week Wednesday in our rooms in the Circus. I’ll introduce him to the old-timers.’
‘What a good idea. We’ll certainly take you up on it.’ Then she had another thought, a rather subversive one. ‘But don’t you insist on eighteenth-century costume?’
‘For the meeting, yes. It’s one of the rules.’
Georgina tried to picture Diamond in lace and satin. ‘And if there’s one thing Beau Nash demanded it was observance of the rules.’
‘Silly arse, yes. Listen, Georgie, there’s no need for your fellow to dress up. He can catch us after we finish.’
‘But if he wants to see you in session?’
‘That’s another thing. He can come as my guest.’
‘But not in a lounge suit?’
‘For that, he’ll need to hire the kit.’
15
A voice from behind said, ‘D’you mind, dude?’
Diamond swung around. He was about to step into Georgina’s office next morning to ask her to authorise the dig at the Twerton site. No one in Bath Central had ever called him ‘dude.’
He was looking at a young man who was clearly not police. Hair to his shoulders, white bucket hat covered in badges. Black T-shirt with the word FIXER across it in yellow, faded blue jeans and trainers.
‘Talking to me?’ Diamond said.
‘I need two minutes, max.’ He winked. ‘Pig of a day coming up.’
You couldn’t say he was charming or persuasive, but something about the wink and the voice caused Diamond to shrug and say, ‘Go ahead then.’
Georgina’s visitor went in. And if it wasn’t two minutes, it was still pretty quick.
The Fixer came out and raised a thumb. ‘No probs, dude.’
Diamond said, ‘Cool,’ and sounded cool and got the satisfaction of a double-take before he stepped inside the office himself.
Georgina greeted him with a wide, unexpected smile.
‘Peter, I’m glad you looked in.’
‘Are you, ma’am?’ he said, puzzled.
‘It’s high time we made some progress on the Twerton murder. What is it, a week since we found the skeleton?’
‘Six days actually.’
‘Six days too long.’ She still looked pleased.
‘I wouldn’t say that, considering we had no reason to suspect it was a murder.’
‘Until the postmortem, you mean?’
‘In the two days since, we’ve achieved plenty. We’re better informed than we were at the start.’
‘“Better informed” isn’t exactly naming names.’
‘This isn’t simple,’ he said. ‘The more we investigate, the more intricate it gets. That’s why I’m here.’
‘It’s defeated you?’
‘No.’
‘You want my advice?’
‘We’re checking the previous tenants of the house — which is a tough nut to crack because the letting agency closed down and there’s no documentation anywhere. We’re having to rely on hearsay, but we can’t afford to ignore it.’
‘And?’
‘We traced the squatters who were in the place and they led us to the last paying tenant, who is an electrician, Polish. He was there ten or eleven years, most of the time with a partner, also Polish, and her elderly father. And in case you’re suspecting what I did, the old man was given a proper funeral and cremated. He isn’t the skeleton.’
‘Who is it, then?’
He frowned. The smile was lingering on Georgina’s face. Clearly she knew something he didn’t. ‘I can’t tell yet, but the Polish guy remembered who was living in the same house before him. A couple.’
‘Did he say who they were?’
‘He didn’t meet them. His partner heard about them from the locals.’
‘When would this have been?’
‘The time slot we’re interested in. The late nineties.’
‘About the time the murder was done?’
He nodded.