Grinding his teeth, he reached for one of the stacks of paper that formed a wall on his desk.
But his mind wasn’t on the job any longer. He was picturing the sad old men in suits who sat on benches watching the world go by.
Paul Gilbert drove the van with Will Legat, the dog and all his belongings to the custody suite at Keynsham.
“What’s he in for?” the sergeant-in-charge asked.
Legat was in no doubt what he was in for. “A shower, a cup of cocoa, a good night’s sleep and a hot breakfast, if you please.”
“Vagrancy,” Gilbert said.
“What about the dog?”
Legat said, “He’s more of a vagrant than I am, but I wouldn’t advise giving him a cell to himself.”
“He can’t go in with you.”
“Why not? How long have you been here? We’ve always managed before.”
The sergeant looked at Paul Gilbert, who shook his head. “We don’t have our own dog pound.”
“You could take him to the kennels in Redlynch Lane.”
Legat didn’t like the suggestion. “The last time somebody tried keeping Caesar in kennels he leaned against the side, walked free, and two chihuahuas and a French bulldog were never seen again.”
True or not, that seemed to persuade the sergeant. Another sensitive moment came when the guest prisoner was asked to empty his pockets. The jackknife was given a filthy look. “You can’t bring that in.”
“What else can I use to butter my toast in the morning?”
“We’ll give you a plastic knife. What are all these keys for?”
“I’m a bit of a ladies’ man.”
The sergeant was starting to realise this man had been asked the same questions many times over. The only way to deal with him was to fall in with his plans.
Caesar had the floor of the cell and Legat the bunk. The pram was put in the evidence room.
“What are we supposed to do with him in the morning?” the sergeant asked Gilbert before he left.
“I promised him a good breakfast, if you would, sarge. He’ll feed the dog himself.”
“I mean after. You don’t want him up before the beak?”
“No, but he’d appreciate a lift in the paddy wagon with the other offenders.”
“He’ll need a bloody van to himself.”
“What a good idea,” Gilbert said.
“Are you related to this fuckwit by any chance?”
At the end of the day, when Paloma switched off the TV, she said to Diamond, “Something on your mind?”
“Why?”
“You’ve scarcely spoken all evening.”
“Tired, I expect.”
“Wasn’t anything I said?”
“God, no.”
“Problems at work?”
“There are always problems at work.”
“That’s what you enjoy, isn’t it, solving them? I expect a night’s sleep will help. I’ll get my drink and go on up, then.”
“Sure. I won’t be long.” He pottered about, checking that the cat’s litter tray was ready and the doors and windows were closed. After a bit, he poured himself a glass of water and went upstairs to visit the bathroom. Paloma used the en suite. She was already in bed reading when he changed into his night things.
“I heard that sigh,” she said after the lights were out. “I’ve always envied you because you can shut off when you leave work. Not this time apparently.”
He didn’t comment. Usually he didn’t mind telling her if he had a problem.
A few minutes later, she said, “I was thinking.”
“What?”
“How long have you been in that job?”
“Don’t go there,” he said. “Don’t go there.”
He said no more and neither did Paloma. In the darkness, tears were rolling down his cheek.
8
Diamond was still in anguish next morning over Georgina’s bombshell, but he pumped himself up enough to inform Bath’s detective squad about the new regime. “I’ll be circulating a list of the many interesting courses headquarters are running and you can get your applications in. Go in with the right attitude and you can have a ball. Take it from me, every course attended will look good on your CV.”
They were bemused. This wasn’t the real Diamond talking. Whatever spin he put on it, it was obvious that he wasn’t happy and neither were the team. The mention of CVs was particularly unsettling.
Keith Halliwell had a strong suspicion what was really in play. “Is this Georgina closing us down?”
Diamond didn’t answer. He hadn’t told them the clincher. That was personal and still hurt like hell. “I did the firearms course myself a couple of years ago. I say it myself, I surprised them all.”
Mental picture of a trigger-happy superintendent loosing off shots at random and terrifying his instructors.
The team couldn’t even smile at that.
Halliwell spoke for almost everyone. “If we were Greater Manchester or London, breaking up the team wouldn’t be an option. This is a great place to work, but Bath is so bloody safe. We’re riding for a fall here. When the worst thing to happen is a missing rigger, we’re really up shit creek.”
“If the crime rate was higher, they’d say we were useless anyway,” Ingeborg said.
“Exactly. We can’t win. The way I see it, they can close us down and send us all to places that are undermanned.”
“Dealing with knife crime in Manchester,” Paul Gilbert said, shaking his head and sounding like an old man.
“Which is why I’ll be signing up for the cybercrime course,” John Leaman announced.
“We’ve already got a computer expert,” Halliwell said.
Jean Sharp blushed and said nothing.
Someone needed to lighten the mood and as usual it was Ingeborg. “You want to wise up on some field of crime that makes you indispensable,” she told Leaman.
“Such as?”
“Bee-rustling.”
Nobody else spoke.
“It’s one of the fastest-growing crimes. Bath is full of beekeepers.”
Leaman picked up the list of courses and studied it again. “I don’t see anything on bees.”
“Start it. You’re world-class at mugging up a topic. We’ve all seen how you turn yourself into an expert over a weekend. You can offer this brand new course to headquarters. Call it something catchy like Plan Bee. They’ll jump at it. You bring in a couple of beekeepers as guest lecturers. PowerPoint shows. An entomologist.”
“And some bees,” Halliwell said, starting to see where this was going. Leaman was easy prey for a wind-up.
“Field trips,” Ingeborg added. “A chance for everyone to dress up in the kit and use a smoke-gun.”
“And at the end they all take home a pot of honey,” Gilbert chimed in. “People will sign up for this in droves.”
Diamond hadn’t been listening. He’d been wondering how Paloma would react to having him padding around the house all day in carpet slippers looking for yesterday’s crossword puzzle. When she’d invited him to live with her it was on the understanding that they were both busy people who met in the evenings.
His sixth sense told him the team was on a distraction exercise. He needed to get a grip. He summoned up a grim smile. “Joke over. I’ve been told to hand in your applications before the end of the month and—”