‘Got a pen and paper handy?’
‘What? You do remember the reading?’
‘No, my friend, I just told you I took a picture. I photographed the back of my hand before I washed it.’
In the studio, Tom had set the pose and the artists were already at work. He agreed to speak to Diamond. ‘Are you working together, you and Inspector Montacute?’
‘Sort of.’
‘He wants to question every one of my art group.’
‘About Mel.’
‘The thing is, he won’t set foot in here. They’re having to step outside one by one. Do you think he’s shy?’
‘Of a naked man? I expect he doesn’t want to be overheard, and neither do I. Can we move to the far end?’
They faced each other on two stools where the refreshment table had been set up, far enough away to speak without the artists hearing them. Tom could still supervise the session from there.
Diamond was torn. His thoughts were of Mel and what might have happened. He wanted to be at the lakeside watching the search, but he wasn’t needed there. This interview could be critical to the case. To make it tougher for himself, he knew he shouldn’t go for the obvious.
‘I won’t go over the ground DI Montacute covered with you,’ Diamond said. ‘Let’s talk about young Ella.’
A guarded look slammed down like a visor. ‘Ella? I thought you were interested in Mel.’
‘This is a bit of a cheek, outside my brief,’ Diamond said, as disarming as he could be under stress. ‘When I went looking for Ella yesterday at the school, I was really impressed by her artwork in the yard. A fantastic effort. She told me what it’s supposed to be.’
‘The House of Usher.’
‘What a terrific idea, all put together from old lobster pots and seaweed. And the size of it. She was explaining that it doesn’t have to be sent to the examining board. She can send them the image.’
‘Correct,’ Tom said, still wary of where this was leading.
‘I commented that the school yard isn’t the ideal setting, with the rubbish bins and the broken desks as a background.’
‘She can edit those out.’
‘But to anyone familiar with the original story, the Edgar Allan Poe’ — Diamond made it sound as if he was a world authority — ‘there’s one major element missing, and that’s the tarn.’ He looked for a reaction and got it. He’d guessed that the word would be unfamiliar. ‘The lake the house was built beside and which swallows the building when the collapse comes. I suggested mocking it up with tinfoil, but Ella didn’t think much of the idea. Ideally, she needs to get her House of Usher erected beside a real lake. After all the effort she’s put in already, it must be worth trying. It would lift her grade, I expect.’
‘She’ll get a top grade anyway.’
‘But to get into art school, she needs it to look as good as possible. She can show this as evidence of her talent. It’s a unique creation, and I know you helped inspire it. This morning I went for a walk around your grounds and found the lake beside the beech trees and thought what a perfect setting that would be for Ella’s house.’
Tom had visibly relaxed as the talk stayed off the party. ‘I hadn’t considered it.’
‘So I’m putting in a word on her behalf. If we can find some transport, and you don’t object, we’ll be treated to a spectacle that will have Poe himself rubbing his hands with glee.’
‘He’s been dead more than a hundred and fifty years.’
Diamond managed a daft grin. ‘He wrote horror, didn’t he? I wouldn’t rule it out, would you?’
Tom didn’t get it.
‘Seriously,’ Diamond said, ‘is it on?’
Tom tugged at his mane of dark hair. ‘We’d need to look at the logistics. I don’t know how well she lashed the pots together.’
‘I couldn’t help noticing commercial vehicles have been using the track across the lawn that passes quite close to the lake.’
‘That’s my dad’s horticulture business. He’d let us use the van for sure. It’s just a question of whether the House of Usher would survive the trip.’ He reached a decision. ‘Why not? If Ella’s willing to risk it, we’ll try.’
‘She’ll be thrilled,’ Diamond said and moved smoothly into more contentious territory. ‘She was nervous about asking you herself in view of what happened at the party.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ Tom’s whole physique tensed.
‘It’s more a matter of what Ella meant by it. She told me she took an ecstasy tablet and it went to her head and you helped her to the house. She doesn’t have much memory of what happened after.’
‘If you think it was anything inappropriate...’
‘Did I say so?’
Tom spaced each word of his response. ‘She spent the night on a sofa. In the morning I drove her home, or near to home. Nothing improper happened. To be frank, I was bloody annoyed with her for gatecrashing the party and even more pissed off that she took the drug.’
‘You didn’t tell me any of this at the school yesterday.’
‘I wasn’t going to volunteer it, was I? I could lose my job.’
‘Did you know she was texting her friends, including Mel?’
‘I saw she had the phone with her. I took it away when I knew she was spaced out, but I gave it back next morning.’
‘One of the messages she sent was about Miss Gibbon, their former art teacher.’
‘OK,’ Tom said, but his expression didn’t say OK. He looked like death.
‘It said, in effect, that Miss Gibbon was one of your Saturday group.’
‘She was. She left.’
‘Something else you didn’t volunteer. So was that how you learned there was a vacancy for an art teacher at Priory Park?’
He nodded. ‘Jobs are hard to come by. They needed someone at short notice. I put in my application before they advertised the post.’
‘Did you find out why she resigned?’
‘I heard there was a row with the head.’
‘About her teaching?’
He shrugged. ‘Things like that are kept confidential.’
‘But they leak out.’
‘I don’t know anything for certain.’
‘Put it this way: were you asked to take a more relaxed approach than Miss Gibbon?’
‘That’s my style. I am relaxed’ — he tried to show it with a twitchy smile — ‘except when the police are grilling me.’
‘Did you find out what Miss Gibbon was planning to do after she resigned?’
‘I don’t think anyone knew, except possibly Miss Du Barry.’
‘And you haven’t heard from her?’
‘From Connie Gibbon? Why should I?’
‘As one of your Saturday artists.’
‘She wasn’t the sort to send a postcard, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘I’ll tell you what I’m thinking, Tom. It’s about Mel. She was troubled about the way Miss Gibbon left the school and even more troubled that she became a missing person. The others weren’t particularly bothered, but it became a personal issue for Mel. She even called at the police station in Chichester to get the latest information.’
A pause.
Tom said, ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘It’s likely Ella’s text about Miss Gibbon was the trigger for Mel leaving her house. To the girls, it was new information. They didn’t know their former teacher was in your art group. Mel, who I said was eager to know more of what really happened, must have thought she would get answers at your party, from you or the other artists.’
‘She was wrong about that. I couldn’t tell her anything and I don’t think anyone else could.’
‘Mel didn’t know that.’
‘She didn’t come here. Ask anyone.’
‘There was a sighting of someone on a scooter a short distance from here.’
‘I know, and that’s why you lot want to search the place, but I don’t expect you to find anything. They’re looking at the lake. Why would she go anywhere near the lake? The party was going on here, not down by the lake.’