‘To my estate steward, James Spearman, I give ten thousand pounds free of duty, in recognition of his loyal service.’
‘Here’s a thing,’ he said to Gilbert. ‘I know one of the beneficiaries and he’s mentioned on the death certificate as well. Ask Keith Halliwell to join us, will you?’
Hearing the catch of urgency in Diamond’s voice, Gilbert fairly scooted out and returned with Halliwell.
‘It may be nothing,’ Diamond said as he handed his deputy the will, ‘but take a look.’
Halliwell was quick. ‘Sir Ed Paris’s chauffeur?’
‘That’s what I thought. His name is Jim, isn’t it?’
‘Certainly is, but we didn’t know he once worked for Lord Deganwy. “My estate steward,” it says here. Sounds a high-powered job.’
‘Very. He’d have his own office and a large budget for managing the place, hiring staff, buying equipment and materials, maintaining the upkeep. He’d be the top man on the staff. The Deganwy estate wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to need someone like that.’
‘Can this be the same guy?’
‘The name’s not all that common,’ Diamond said, unsure if he could take yet another rise and plunge of the switchback.
‘Yes, but this was a long time ago. What age is Spearman?’
‘Around fifty, I’d say. He could have been thirty at the time.’
‘Young, for a position like that.’
‘Some people in their twenties are running business empires.’
‘True, but how come he ends up as a chauffeur? That’s a comedown.’
Diamond wouldn’t let go. ‘As he was employed by one president of the Beau Nash Society, it’s not impossible he was later offered a job by another. Ed Paris doesn’t have an estate. It’s a nice big garden, but he wouldn’t need a steward for it. On the other hand, he needs someone to drive him around in the Bentley and the Range Rover.’
‘I guess estate steward jobs don’t come up too often these days.’
‘We’ll find out,’ Diamond said. ‘We’ll ask him. There’s something else I haven’t shown you.’ He picked up the death certificate and handed it to Halliwell. ‘Look at the name of the informant.’
Halliwell read it aloud. ‘“James Spearman, present at the death.” Wasn’t the doctor present?’
‘Evidently not. The doctor certified the cause as dementia and cardiac arrest. He’d have been treating the old man, so he’d sign it off when he confirmed that life was extinct, but he wouldn’t have needed to be there.’
‘And Spearman inherits ten grand. We’d definitely better see this guy.’
Paul Gilbert had heard all this from two seasoned investigators and his eyes were the size of the spotlights above the desk.
Diamond picked up the phone and switched to speaker for the others to listen. ‘Get me Sir Edward Paris, will you?’
He was through straight away and reminded Paris who he was. ‘I’d like to come and see your chauffeur if he’s with you.’
‘What’s that about, then, my old chum? In some kind of trouble, is he?’ As soon as the first words came out, the bluff, no-nonsense, twenty-first-century Beau materialised in Diamond’s head like a pantomime genie.
‘Not at all, Sir Edward. It’s a routine enquiry.’
‘No big deal, then?’
‘It’s got to be done. We need to speak to him about something that’s cropped up.’
‘And you’re not saying what?’
‘Not to anyone else. It concerns Mr. Spearman, nobody else.’
‘You’ll have to try later, then. He’s not here.’
‘Gone away, you mean?’
‘Gone shopping. We’re having a garden party here and this afternoon is going to be a belter, the weathermen say. Needed some last-minute items, extra sunshades, those super-sized beauties on stands. Spearman knows where to go for stuff like that. I can safely leave it up to him.’
‘So he’s more than just your chauffeur?’
‘Chauffeur, shopper, window cleaner, TV maintenance man. He can turn his hand to anything, just about.’
‘How long have you employed him?’
‘Ten years, easy, and I’d be lost without him. He used to work for David Deganwy, who was the Beau when I joined the society.’
Diamond glanced across at Halliwell. All uncertainty was removed. They needed to see this man of many parts — and soon. ‘We can be at Charlcombe in, say, an hour. He’ll be back by then, won’t he?’
The tone changed. ‘I don’t want policemen at my party, for Christ’s sake. It’s a friendly get-together.’
‘Don’t you worry about that,’ Diamond said. ‘I’m not a party animal. We can do this well away from your guests. Where does he go when he’s off duty? Servants’ quarters?’
‘Lives in the gatehouse with his wife and kiddie.’
‘Ideal. We can speak to him there. This party — is it a special occasion?’
‘Not really. Just a few of the Beau Nash mob. You was there the other night when I told them I’m stepping down. My wife had the good idea of putting on a bun-fight for the young lady taking over from me, to welcome her, like.’
‘Estella.’
‘D’you know her?’
‘We’ve met.’
‘Well, there you go. Any excuse for a rave-up, eh? Shall I tip Jim off that you’re coming?’
‘Don’t,’ Diamond said at once. ‘He might get the wrong idea.’
‘And do a runner? Is he in trouble?’
‘I said before, it’s a routine enquiry, Sir Edward. But people do sometimes get the wrong idea when the police come calling. If he does a runner, as you put it, that’s no use to you or me.’
‘Too bloody true,’ Ed said. ‘I’ll be up shit creek if he walks out now.’
Diamond wiped some imaginary sweat from his brow. For a moment his whole operation had been at risk. ‘As soon as we get to Charlcombe I’ll let you know by phone and you can tell him he’s got visitors and send him to the lodge. Understood?’
‘You won’t keep him long? He’s my barman for the afternoon.’
‘You’ll get him back, Sir Edward.’
He ended the call and tapped a finger drumroll on the edge of the desk. Alarming possibilities battered his brain. Over the past days he’d been diligently working towards completion of this crossword of a mystery. It hadn’t been simple. Starting as the single challenge of the skeleton in the loft, one puzzle had become two after Perry was shot. Two sets of clues, two grids and two solutions. Then the strong suspicion that Harry had been both the Twerton tenant and Perry’s father had changed the game. Evidently it was one grid after all, one diabolically difficult cryptic challenge, with the difference that the clues weren’t conveniently listed and numbered. He had to find them first. If and when he got as far as that, he knew that in a cryptic crossword the obvious answer was likely to be a distraction. You had to spot the real meaning behind the words. He thought he’d been doing quite well, filling the gaps down and across with increasing confidence. The solution seemed to be achievable — until now. The demon who delights in tormenting detectives had struck a match and held the flame to the whole damned puzzle.
‘Did you hear all that?’
Both colleagues nodded, cautious of saying anything. The surge in their boss’s blood pressure was all too visible.
He was chuntering. ‘Ten years... ten years was what he said... ten years easily. But that isn’t twenty. What was Spearman doing for the other ten?’ A direct question to Halliwell — as if he ought to know.
‘We’d better ask him.’ A safe response, you would think.
‘Feeble.’
‘Only a suggestion.’
‘I’d rather know in advance. I’ve got my suspicions, haven’t you? An estate steward ends up doing shopping and cleaning windows? We check the PNC and see if he’s got a record.’