While the jets of warm water were reviving him, Diamond mused on how Perry Morgan must have had some of the Nash attitude, the strength of personality that persuaded people of influence to allow a young man to stage major public events. Would a modern-day Nash have laid on the world fireworks competition and marched into the assistant chief constable’s office to demand adequate policing? Without a doubt. Such people weren’t put off by authority. Would some mean-minded person have shot him dead? Possibly, human nature being what it is. Remarkable enterprise can spawn remarkable jealousy.
Better put Perry out of his mind for this evening, he decided. He finished showering, dried himself and changed. In ten minutes he was on his way to Lyncombe.
Paloma had a pizza supper and salad ready when he arrived. ‘I know you’re not over-keen on salad,’ she said, ‘but it balances the meal, I think. Shall I open a can of beer?’
‘I could break the abstinence of a lifetime and allow myself one,’ he said.
‘I phoned Estella earlier. She’s going to be there tonight, so there’s at least one person you’ll have met.’
‘Did she say what happens at these meetings?’
‘The welcoming of strangers, of course.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Anyone who hasn’t been before gets put in a sedan chair and is carried into the presence of the president and made to recite Nash’s rules for the Pump Room. Nothing to worry about. He speaks them first and you repeat them.’
He didn’t like the sound of that at all. ‘A sedan chair? Really?’
She laughed. ‘No. I made it up to see the look on your face. It’s just a social get-together. Sometimes they have a speaker, Estella said, but there isn’t one tonight.’
‘Pity. That would have taken some of the heat off.’
‘And at some stage they discuss business.’
‘What kind of business? Seriously. I want to know.’
‘Like the arrangements for the annual ball, which dances they need to learn. Stuff like that. All quite harmless. Brace up, Peter. I shouldn’t have teased you.’
‘I need another beer.’
‘You don’t. You need to be on top of your game — and I’m serious about that.’
He knew she was right. The evening was his opportunity to learn things vital to the case. Unless his theory was rubbish, he was going to meet people who had known the skeleton when it was a living, breathing individual.
He’d cleared his plate and he couldn’t have told you whether the pizza had been a Margherita or a Four Seasons.
‘Let’s get you into the clothes,’ Paloma said.
He was glad he’d tried them on before. This time they didn’t feel quite so freakish. By the time he was in white stockings, breeches and floral waistcoat, it felt almost normal to put on the frock coat.
‘Fine,’ Paloma said. ‘Just the shoes and the wig now.’
‘What time is it?’ She’d persuaded him to remove his wristwatch.
‘Almost time to go.’
22
‘You won’t forget to pick me up at the end of the evening?’
‘And leave you to walk home dressed as you are? It’s tempting, but I’m not completely heartless.’
‘If you don’t mind, I’ll sit here a moment until I see someone else go in.’
‘In case it turns out to be one gigantic hoax? Peter, it can’t be.’
Paloma had slotted into a space in front of the north side of the Wood family’s masterpiece, the three-storey Romanesque creation known originally as the King’s Circus. The terraced building formed a circle broken only by the three roads that led into it. Romanesque? Imperial Rome had certainly been in John Wood the Elder’s mind when he wrote the proposal announcing that the space in the middle would be used for ‘the exhibition of sports.’ Whether lions and Christians featured in his plan is less certain. He laid the foundation in 1754 and died the same year, after which his son, John Wood the Younger, oversaw the construction. Completion was 1767, so Beau Nash didn’t live to see it. But the cream of society moved in, among them the prime minister William Pitt the Elder, the Earl of Chatham, the artist Thomas Gainsborough and Lord Robert Clive.
Diamond was still having doubts. ‘I keep asking myself how I was shoehorned into this crazy situation. The head of CID dressed like this — it’s a farce.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Paloma said. ‘It does wonders for you. You look superb and everyone will respond.’
‘I know how my team would respond if they could see me.’
‘They’d respect you even more than they do already.’
He went silent. He knew she was being positive. And how he needed the confidence she was trying to provide.
‘Who suggested you came here — Georgina, wasn’t it?’
‘Suggested? She volunteered me. To be fair, she changed her mind later. She was thinking of sending someone else and that would have been pointless. I’ve got myself to blame for telling her so.’
‘That’s to your credit, then. You’re not a quitter. I think you’re about to make a major breakthrough.’
‘I wish.’
‘If you find out who the skeleton must have been, you won’t be complaining.’
He nodded. Paloma’s support was rock solid.
‘And then you won’t be far from naming his killer.’
‘Says you.’
Suddenly his confidence-provider sounded a different note. ‘It could be one of the members.’
‘The murder was twenty years ago.’
‘They could still be around, couldn’t they?’
‘They could, but...’
‘For God’s sake be careful, Peter. You may be dressed up, but it’s not a game. It’s dangerous.’
A large white minivan entered from Gay Street, glided around the central garden with its huge plane trees and came to a stop outside the house leased by the society. Like every other, this residence was fronted with twin Doric columns topped with a frieze decorated with serpents, nautical devices and emblems of the arts and sciences.
The van door slid aside and a woman in a huge hat looked out as if to make sure no one else was about. Self-conscious like me? Diamond speculated.
Her driver got out. He was in a modern suit.
Diamond recognised him. ‘That’s Spearman, Sir Edward Paris’s chauffeur. The woman must be Lady Paris.’
‘Watch this,’ Paloma said.
Lady Paris (if this was she) was having trouble getting through the door. She had to ease out by stages with the driver’s help. He bent low and spread his arms and she giggled. The skirt was the problem. It had some kind of springy under-support.
‘Is it a crinoline?’ Diamond asked Paloma.
‘No, they came later. It’ll be a hoop dress, and difficult to manage. They were never made to travel in minivans.’
Between them the lady and her chauffeur were coping, but dignity was difficult. The skirt swung up like a handbell when they finally pulled it free. Hoots of laughter. If this was indeed Lady Paris, she was no shrinking violet. At pavement level she spent some time rearranging the folds. Composed at last, she stepped up to the open door — fortunately as wide as any in Bath — and went inside.
‘Okay, it’s really happening. I believe you now.’ Diamond opened the car door.
‘Walk tall, big man,’ Paloma said, ‘but keep your head down.’
‘Difficult — at the same time.’
He braced himself and marched in.
His leather heels clattered on the stones of a black and white check stone floor that looked original. Loud voices were coming from ahead, so he moved on and found himself outside a room filled with chattering people in costume. One glimpse disposed of all doubts about the need for his wig, frock coat and breeches. Without the costume he would have been as out of place as a clown at a funeral.