‘It’s new territory for us, trying to work out what happened more than two hundred years ago. What was Twerton like in those days?’
‘Before the railway came? Very different. Mainly cloth mills and weaving. The industry went on for centuries. The terraced houses would have been workmen’s dwellings. Not the class of place Beau Nash was used to. I doubt if he came here very much at all.’
‘He was doing his MC bit, lording it over the Assembly Rooms.’
‘Right. But that’s beside the point if he was brought here after his death.’
‘Is that what you think happened?’
Diamond sighed. He was forced to get serious about the Beau Nash thing. ‘Someone else would have moved the body here. If they wanted a secret place to put him, Twerton in 1761 was a smart choice.’
‘But why? Why would they move him?’
‘This is just a theory,’ Diamond said, airing the knowledge he’d gleaned overnight from the books he’d borrowed. ‘He was a hero for much of his life. He made Bath the most fashionable town in the land. Grand buildings went up, fine streets. You know all this. I don’t have to labour it. But in his last years he was a sad case, old and decrepit and running up debts.’
‘I expect he was still well known.’
‘For sure. He was master of ceremonies to the end of his life. Visitors wanted to catch a sight of him even while he was being carted about in a sedan chair. The great days were gone, but Beau Nash was a name everyone knew. You only have to read accounts of the funeral procession. People filled the streets, watched from upstairs windows and even the rooftops. After a show like that, every seat taken in the Abbey, can you imagine them burying him in a pauper’s grave? I can’t.’
‘Is that true — about the pauper’s grave?’
‘I heard it from Paloma last night. It’s treated as a fact in the books she lent me. Hard to disprove.’
‘But was it the law?’
‘If someone didn’t leave enough to pay for his funeral, you mean?’
‘Wasn’t there something called the Poor Law?’ Halliwell said. ‘The state bears the cost.’
‘I’m sure you’re right and this is my point. Nash had run up debts and was officially a pauper and the law had to be observed.’
‘You’d think they’d have started a fund.’
‘Funds take time to organise. They had a body ready for burial. The city paid for the funeral but they weren’t going to take on his debts. My theory is this. A few of his friends decided there was no way the great Beau Nash would end up in an unmarked grave, so they secretly took him out of his coffin.’
Halliwell’s face formed a slack-jawed expression of disbelief.
Diamond wasn’t stopping for anything. ‘The burial went ahead, but without the corpse. The coffin was weighted with sacks of earth. Under cover of darkness the body was moved to the house in Twerton and hidden in the loft.’
‘Sitting up in a chair?’
‘That’s weird, I agree. I expect it looked more dignified than laying him out on the floor. Obviously he was going to decompose, so they left him there for nature to take its course, intending to remove what was left of him at a later date and bury him somewhere more fitting. I can’t believe they meant the loft to be his final tomb, but in the meantime they would have sealed the access hatch and made the loft appear inaccessible.’
‘And then what? They forgot about him?’
Diamond shook his head. ‘Unlikely. We’re talking about loyal friends, maybe as few as two or three, who took a big risk for him. Something went badly wrong. There’s always a leader in a conspiracy like this. It’s possible he was struck down. Sudden illness, or an accident. Anyway, when the main man was out of it, the others couldn’t think what to do. They delayed and delayed. In the end they did nothing at all.’
‘Did you think of all this while we were at the site?’ Halliwell asked, impressed, and not for the first time, by his boss’s ability to find a rational scenario for extraordinary events.
‘It’s been a couple of days,’ Diamond said. ‘That’s just one hypothesis. Do you want to hear another?’
‘Not right now, guv. I can see our breakfasts coming this way.’
‘That was quick,’ Diamond said to the waiter who put a well-filled plate in front of him. ‘We’re going to enjoy this.’
‘Is there someone with you?’ the waiter asked, seeing the third chair.
‘I hope not,’ Halliwell said. ‘I do hope not.’
‘You ordered two breakfasts, I thought.’
‘And you’re right,’ Diamond said. ‘Thanks, but our friend Beau didn’t show up. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.’ When the waiter had left, he said, ‘Will it put you off eating if I go on?’
Halliwell shook his head.
‘The second scenario, then.’ Diamond was already into his breakfast. ‘This is unbelievably good bacon. There’s a woman involved.’
‘With the funny name — Popjoy?’
‘Juliana Popjoy, yes. All the women liked him, but Popjoy was the one who came back when he was well past it. On his deathbed he told her he was in debt and would die a pauper and he couldn’t bear the thought of an unmarked grave. She promised she would never allow it to happen. She was thinking she’d give him a decent burial by selling off bits of his furniture. But she had no conception how much he owed until after he was dead.’
‘This sounds good,’ Halliwell said, ‘and I can see where it’s going.’
‘She’d made a promise, and she kept it,’ Diamond went on. ‘She went to the city authorities and did a deal with them. She’d pay off as many of his outstanding debts as he could afford. In return, she’d be given his body to dispose of. Officially, he’d be buried according to the law as a pauper and this would be announced. In reality, she’d find a final resting place for him.’
‘Definitely more believable.’
‘What happened after that is not so clear, but it may have gone like this. She was skint herself so she moved into the humble little place in Twerton.’
‘With the body?’
‘Exactly. She hadn’t enough left to buy him a burial plot. But it soon became obvious that cohabiting with a corpse isn’t practical, so she got someone she trusted to move him up to the loft and seal it. She had every intention of bringing him down later and carrying out his dying wish, but something went wrong. She may have died herself, or turned senile and forgot what she had upstairs. The upshot was that poor old Beau was stuck in the loft until the wrecking ball disturbed him.’
‘Or how about this?’ Halliwell said. ‘She was a bit of a weirdo and she liked going up to the loft and talking to him.’
‘You read too many horror stories.’
‘It’s not impossible. People who live alone—’
Diamond stabbed a finger at him. ‘Don’t go there.’
‘Sorry, guv. My big mouth.’
They went back to chewing bacon and mushrooms for a while. This breakfast was as good as any they’d tried in Bath.
Finally, Diamond said, ‘I’m not lonely. I’ve got a cat who keeps me sane.’
4
Paloma had called Diamond and set up a lunch meeting with a Miss Estella Rockingham, who was researching Beau Nash for a biography.
‘Old-fashioned name,’ he said, picturing a silver-haired lady with half-glasses.
‘She’s a young and extremely clever West Indian who won an award to fund the project. I’m sure the book will win more prizes.’
‘Is it written?’
‘In outline, I believe. She’s constantly going back to original sources. Her research is amazing. She came to me looking for portraits that haven’t been used and her knowledge about eighteenth-century costume is awesome.’
‘Were you able to help?’
Paloma nodded. Her collection of historic illustrations was the best outside the V&A and the British Library.