No question-the boy was a pro.
"And that's it?" said Diamond.
"Unless you have something else you want to throw in."
"You've covered it"
"Like to see the other sets?"
While this was going on, Naomi had remained at Diamond's side, her drawing pad held across her chest. Now that the conversation had entered a new, less earnest phase, she began shifting her feet as if she wanted to leave the studio.
Curtis shot her a glance and asked, "Does she want the girls' room?"
"What?" Diamond was nonplussed.
'The girls' room. The loo. How do you know if she wants to go?"
This wasn't a contingency he'd foreseen. Being responsible for a small girl brought complications. "You'd better show us where it is, Curtis."
The toilets were next to the hospitality suite. As soon as Naomi sighted the doors she handed her drawing pad and marker to Diamond and ran ahead. Interestingly she understood the symbols, because she didn't falter over the choice.
Curtis looked up at the clock and promised to rejoin them after lunch, when they'd be wanted in makeup. He gave directions to the canteen. With a wink and a smile he left Diamond waiting uncertainly outside the toilets. There was no telling whether the little girl could manage unaided, and as luck would have it, no woman came by, or he'd have asked her to check.
Strewth, if the lads in the Avon and Somerset Police could see me now, Diamond mused.
Then she emerged composed and in good order. Together they went to explore the BBC canteen. The pace started to accelerate.
Lunch.
Makeup.
Back to the hospitality suite.
Curtis, by now dressed in a red shirt and black bow tie, kept them up to date with the program schedule. It seemed they might be included between the trio in pink satin and the skateboarder. Meanwhile Naomi continued with her drawing.
"She may be trying to tell you something. Have you thought of that?" Curtis commented.
"With the drawing, you mean? Certainly I have," Diamond said, "only I haven't cracked it yet."
Curtis took another look over Naomi's shoulder. "Is it a logo? You know, like you see in ads?"
"The diamond shape? Off the cuff I can't think of any business that uses it."
"Have you noticed she doesn't shade them in? When most kids draw a shape like that, they fill it in."
This was an observation he hadn't considered. For the moment he couldn't see its relevance, but Curtis was ahead of him.
"Could be something you see through, like those funny windows in old houses."
Leaded windows.
"That's a fascinating suggestion, Curtis."
"No fee," said Curtis. "I'd better get back to the control room now. Stay cool." He strolled out, clicking his fingers to some tune pounding in his head.
Diamond weighed Curtis' idea. If Naomi had lived in a house with lattice windows, this could be a genuine clue. He levered his weight out of the chair and ponderously lowered himself to kneel beside her.
She stopped drawing and eased back on her thighs.
He studied the marks she had made on the paper. Some of them, at any rate, were joined at the corners. Maybe it was inevitable when she was drawing so many. He held out his hand and said, "May I use the marker?"
She handed it to him. Not only did she understand, but she trusted him with the precious marker. A good sign.
He turned to a fresh sheet and started drawing diamonds linked at the corners. It would have been simpler to have drawn two sets of intersecting diagonal lines, but he reckoned Naomi's conception began with the basic shape, so he worked from that, gradually building a grid.
She watched him at work, and he was encouraged, even though she remained passive. He completed the drawing by squaring it off with straight lines to represent a frame, and he had a passable lattice window. He handed it back to her. "How about that?"
She gave his work serious attention, studying it as earnestly as if she were one of the Hanging Committee at the Royal Academy. She put out her hand and traced the grid with her fingertips. It seemed that something wasn't done to her satisfaction.
"You want curtains?" said Diamond. He reached for the drawing pad, but she refused to give it up. Instead, she held out her hand for the marker.
He passed it across.
Concentrating deeply, she leaned so far over the drawing pad that her hair flopped forward, exposing the narrow white nape of her neck. She was working on the area at the top of the sheet, above the window Diamond had drawn. He couldn't see it until she sat back.
This time she had baffled him completely by adding two rectangles and a small circle:
He was beginning to feel as if this were some kind of game for people with higher IQs than he possessed. He'd never mastered Rubik's Cube. He'd given up trying after one of Steph's Brownies had demonstrated how to do the thing in a few rapid twists.
Curtis released him from further brain strain by coming back and saying that they were wanted in the studio now. Naomi stood up immediately, not only appearing to understand, but seeming keen to get on with the real business of the day. The visit to the Television Center had animated her, a pity Julia Musgrave hadn't been here to see it.
On the set, an adult-sized chair had been found for Diamond, the only drawback being that it was so low to the ground that he suspected six inches had been sawn off the legs. "Just don't expect me to stand up while the cameras are rolling," he warned Curtis, who was standing beside him for the interview.
Opposite them, Naomi perched serenely on a child-sized upholstered bench. She appeared more interested in the model airplane visible through the window than the cameras, and the floor manager had to snap his fingers to get her attention.
Then came the signal.
Smoothly, Curtis talked to the camera. Kids everywhere, he said, fancied themselves as detectives, and now they were getting the chance to solve a real-life mystery. In a few graphic sentences he gave the background, the terrorist alert in Harrods and the discovery of the small girl, his cue to introduce Diamond.
The interview went precisely as planned, with no trick questions and no stumbling answers. Afterwards, there was a chance to watch a recording, and Diamond was pleased to see how strongly the appeal to the viewers came over. Cedric Athelhampton emerged at last from the control room, a pencil-thin man dressed entirely in white, and shook Diamond's hand. "Stunning, my love, simply stunning. You must have been handcrafted for television, every chunky pound of you, did you know that? Such a substantial presence, a marvelous contrast with the little girl. My only problem now is that I didn't warn the BBC about the calls. I'm perfectly certain me switchboard's jammed already. I'm going to get it in the neck, but it was bloody good television, and I'll say so in my defense."
"What about these calls?" Diamond asked, suddenly perturbed.
"What do you mean?"
"Who's taking mem?"
"They're being put through to my office, to my assistant, Justine, at present. Between you, me and the BBC, ninety-nine percent will be duff. The proverbial pisspot full of crabapples. Kids get carried away when someone with Curtis' charm and flair makes an appeal for information. Isn't he irresistible?"
Diamond was in no frame of mind for discussing anyone's charm and flair. He was furious with himself for failing to think ahead. He'd been far too preoccupied with the program. "Right now I'm interested in the calls, the one percent. Is Justine capable of recognizing the real thing?"
Cedric smiled roguishly. "The real thing? How would I know?" Reacting fast to Diamond's glare, he added, "She's bright, as bright as a guardsman's buttons. Don't fret" He squeezed Diamond's arm. "We'll let you know if we strike lucky."
But Diamond wasn't satisfied. He insisted on being taken to the office where Justine was answering the phone.
She had a notepad open and a pencil in her hand, and was talking into a headset. "Thank you, dear. Now give the phone to Mummy." She glanced up at Diamond. "Sodding little brats." She pressed another switch and said wearily," 'What About the Kids'… Where exactly did you see her? …The King and I? Do you mean the film with Yul Brynner?… Thank you, I've made a note of it…"