She shook her head vigorously, either in defiance or to contest his interpretation.
Confronted with the familiar challenge of the uncooperative witness, a trained interrogator like Diamond might have coaxed out the truth, but while Naomi was under threat, he wasn't wasting time on refinements.
"You lied."
Mrs. Straw arched her mouth and glared.
He shoved the drawing pad towards her, forcing her to sway back. "She wouldn't have gone' without this."
"Get away from me," she muttered.
He felt Julia Musgrave's hand on his arm, wanting to restrain him, without result. "Admit it. That woman took Naomi off by force." He portrayed the scene vividly. "She dragged the kid out of here screaming and kicking."
"No."
He gave her a moment for a more considered answer.
She added, "That isn't true-about the screaming. You can ask the cook."
"I intend to."
"She only struggled a bit."
"We're coming to it," said Diamond.
"There wasn't no screaming."
"Crying?"
"No."
"And there wasn't any kissing and cuddling, was there, Mrs. Straw? You bed about that."
"No."
"But you just said the child struggled. Come on, what are we to believe-that after this touching reunion her so-called mother had to wrestle with her to get her out of the place?"
She emitted a sound between a gasp and a sob and clamped her teeth over her lower lip. The dragon who deterred visitors was a cornered creature now.
Julia, probably succumbing to the tension, said, "No one is blaming you, Mrs. Straw"-which wasn't strictly true, and Diamond didn't let it pass. He was angry. And, more vitally, he was conscious of the minutes passing.
"Blame is exactly what this is about," he said without deflecting his eyes from Mrs. Straw. "You thought you could avoid more blame by telling this crap about kissing and cuddling. You don't want us to know what really took place this morning. And while you feed us horseshit, this woman is heading for God knows where with a child who was in your charge. You're in deep trouble, Mrs. Straw. By Christ, you'd better speak up."
The force of his speech had a dramatic result. Mrs. Straw turned ashen. The rigid mouth softened and quivered. Her hand fumbled in a pocket of the apron she was wearing and extracted a large red handkerchief. She pressed it to her nose and, instead of blowing it, emitted a long, low moan of distress. Her eyes reddened and dampened. Huge sobs convulsed her. The outburst was the more disturbing because she had always seemed so implacable.
"Now, now," said Julia in sympathy.
Unmoved, Diamond remarked, "We don't have time for this, Mrs. Straw."
Dabbing her tears, she launched into a confession punctuated by frequent sobs. "I was too frightened to tell you exactly what happened. Naomi didn't want to leave. She put up a fight. What I said was true-about the picture and everything- and I'm positive they knew each other, only when it was obvious that the woman wanted to take Naomi with her, she went berserk-Naomi, I mean. She tried to run away and the woman grabbed hold of her arm and wouldn't let go. What could I do? I'm only supposed to be the help here. She kept on and on saying she was the mother and the passport was proof of it In the end I went upstairs for Naomi's things. What I told you about the two of them coming up here wasn't true. Naomi was in no state to do anything, so I collected her things myself. I didn't think to look for the drawing book. I put the spare clothes in a carrier and handed them over. Naomi had to be pushed and dragged all the way to the taxi."
"There was a taxi?"
"Yes, it must have been waiting. I noticed it when I first opened the door. And when they left, Naomi was struggling and kicking by the taxi door and only went in after her leg was slapped."
"Oh, no!" said Julia, who wouldn't allow anyone to strike a child in her school.
"What sort of taxi?" asked Diamond, trying to exclude everything but the essential information, though, he, too, was disturbed at the treatment of Naomi.
"The usual. I won't lose my job, will I, Miss Musgrave?"
"Black?"
"What?"
"The taxi, Mrs. Straw. Was it black?"
"Oh. Yes."
"I suppose it's too much to hope that you took the number?"
She shook her head.
"Anything about it-adverts on the doors. Try and remember."
"I can't. Anyway, I couldn't see it properly because of the hedge."
"What time did they leave? How long were they here?"
"I don't know-about twenty minutes, I suppose. It might have been less. It seemed like twenty minutes."
"Before eight-thirty, then?"
"I suppose so."
He told Julia, "I'm calling the ponce. We're going to need them."
Mrs. Straw covered her eyes and moaned.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The person who took the call at Kensington Police Station expressed doubt whether it would be possible to trace an unnamed Japanese woman and child who had stepped into a taxi in Earls Court at 8:30.
Diamond hadn't reprimanded a policeman for months, but he still had the knack. "Who the hell do you think you are-God Almighty?" he boomed down the line. "This is a bloody emergency. It isn't your job to look down from the clouds and say what's possible and what isn't. Action the call. I was in the police, son. I know what I'm talking about. The morning rush hour is the busiest time of day for taxis."
"That's just the point," said the hapless officer.
"What are you, a civilian? Put me through to someone in uniform, will you? Who's the station sergeant?"
"I am."
"God help us. Listen, I'm not telling you your job, sergeant, but there are ways of tracing taxis. Most of them work in fleets and radio their positions to the girl on the intercom, right? At the busiest times there's a large demand for cabs. If one was standing outside a school for twenty minutes, someone is going to remember-because it was unavailable for other work-follow me?"
"Yes, but-"
"And this cab driver, whoever he may be, is going to remember sitting there. He's also going to remember picking up a Japanese woman and a kid who was most unwilling to be with her. Now, you can't trace every taxi in London, agreed, but you can call the offices telling them to check with their controllers, or whatever they call themselves."
"Have you any idea what you're asking, Mr.-"
"Diamond. Ex-Superintendent Diamond. Yes, I know exactiy what I'm asking, and it's the obvious course of action apart from questioning the neighbors round here, which goes without saying. If you want help-"
"That won't be needed."
"Good. I'm glad you can handle that," Diamond said and added before the sergeant had time to come in again, "In that case I'll come straight down to the station. I can be more useful there."
This had the desired effect, a definite infusion of urgency. "Will you listen to me, sir? I want you to stay where you are. I'll be sending someone to take a statement from you."
"Sod that. I've given you the facts. Do I have to repeat that this child was taken from the school against her will? Abducted, sergeant. We've got to know where she was taken, and we've got to know fast."
He ended the call.
Julia Musgrave had overheard all this. She was pale, clearly disturbed by Diamond's bulldozing, without knowing that it was the sure way to get things done in the police. "You said this is an emergency."
His response was guarded. "I know that sergeant's type. If you told him a bomb had been planted in Buckingham Palace, he'd want it in writing first."
"Is Naomi in danger?"
"We've got to assume she is. Whoever this woman is- and she may be the mother, for all I know-she behaved suspiciously."
"Maybe," she commented. "But you can't expect a mother deprived of her child to act rationally. She turned up here at breakfast time. Is that really to be interpreted as suspicious? If my child were missing, I wouldn't think twice about knocking on someone's door any time of the day or night."