“But it was already occupied?”
“I saw the trucks and the crane and the enormous motorhome and it was obvious that my canine companion and I needed to find somewhere else to rest our weary heads. That first night we had to make do with a poxy pillbox on the edge of the airfield.”
“Wasn’t there anywhere else you could go?”
“There’s a lady in Combe Hay who lets me use her barn when I come by, a comfortable stop, but that was too far off. We’d done our walk for the day getting to the airfield, the hound and I, and we were footsore and weary.”
“Did you watch any of the filming?”
“I had better things to do.”
“Like what?”
“Foraging for food.”
“Out there on the airfield?”
“You’d be surprised. Nettles are an excellent source of nutrition. Fat hen, as well.”
“You found chickens up there?”
He rolled his eyes at such ignorance. “It’s a common weed, cooks up like spinach and is far more delicious. Also known as dirty dick.”
“You wouldn’t be having me on?”
“I’m not stupid, superintendent, and I doubt whether you are.”
“Were you foraging when you found the belt?”
“Aha, the belt. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Am I going to get it back?”
“You’ve got some nerve, considering it doesn’t belong to you. We noticed it’s a quick-release clip, simple to unfasten. Where was it?”
“In the vicinity.”
“The vicinity of what?”
“The control tower where they were filming. I almost tripped over the thing in the dark, obviously discarded where the vehicles had been parked. Everyone had gone by then and I was dog-tired and ready to turn in, so I left it where it was and inspected it again in the morning. I can put this to good use, I thought. Seems a shame to leave it here.”
“You say you almost tripped over it. Did you handle it?”
“When? In the morning?”
“The night before.”
Legat frowned, and yet managed to look more puzzled by the question than evasive. “Does it matter? I held it in my hands in the morning to fit my keys and things to the D-rings. If you’re looking for fingerprints, you’ll find mine all over it. Doesn’t make me a thief.”
“We’ll find out what it makes you,” Diamond said. “I’m asking about the moment you first came across the thing. You said it was dark at the time. You must have wondered what you’d found. You’re a scavenger.”
“Forager... please.”
“Did you stoop and make a close inspection?”
“I may have done.”
“When someone says to me ‘I may have done’ it’s obvious what they mean. You handled it. Was it damp to the touch?”
He didn’t contest the point. “The whole patch was damp. I just told you this was the parking area where the trucks had left ruts of mud. It rained most nights that week. If you go up there, you’ll see it’s a quagmire.” He seemed untroubled by the line of inquiry.
“Was anyone else about?”
“I told you. This was after they’d all left.”
“The reason I ask is that there’s evidence of a violent incident there. Think carefully, Will. If you were left alone, suspicion falls on you.”
“I can’t see why,” he said, keeping his cool. “A man on his own can’t do violence to anyone except himself.”
“Unless he’s the last man standing.”
He tilted his head ironically like a smart lawyer in court and smiled. “What’s your evidence for that? I didn’t see any casualties. Believe me, Caesar would have found them. He was off the leash all morning sniffing around the site.” He had answers to everything.
Diamond was forced into playing his strong card. “We heard from forensics. The belt was heavily bloodstained.”
“Really?” Legat did look surprised and quite serious, although whether this was from being found out was not obvious. “I didn’t notice any staining.”
“You didn’t get any on your hands?”
“I’m positive I didn’t.”
“The tests show the presence of human blood even if it wasn’t apparent to you. When fresh it will show up red on a dark leather belt, but it soon dries and turns brown. Someone who wore that belt was badly wounded, if not killed.”
“A troubling thought.” But he had already recovered his poise.
“It’s a rigger’s belt and a rigger called Jake Nicol has gone missing.”
“I know nothing about that.”
“Did you ever meet Jake Nicol?”
“The name is completely unknown to me.”
Diamond took out his phone and found the photo of Nicol.
Legat took one glance and shook his head. “A total stranger. And now I’ve answered your questions I’ll retrieve my dog and my property and get on my way.”
“If you’re as innocent as you make out, you won’t object to a simple DNA test.”
“Why is that necessary?”
“So that we can eliminate you from our enquiries. You said your prints are all over the belt. We may well find other people’s DNA and we’ll know who else to question.”
“Will this go on to the dossier you have in front of you?”
“We can destroy it once we’ve ended our investigation.”
“Can or will?”
“You have my word.”
Legat took time to decide whether Diamond’s word mattered more than a hill of beans. “Very well, you may run the test.” He gave a slow grin. “Consider it a gesture of good Will.”
“Thanks.”
“In return, I need a favour from you, superintendent. While you’re here, would you make a reservation for me and my dog for the custody cell we had last night?”
Later, Diamond explained to Halliwell why the questioning of Legat had stopped. They wouldn’t achieve anything until the belt and jackknife had been fully tested at the lab. “We’ll need to keep tabs on him. I don’t want another manhunt like we had today.”
“Now he knows about the custody suite, our problem will be keeping him away,” Halliwell said. “What did you think of his story, guv?”
“There’s more to come. Quite a bit more. He’s no fool.”
9
“I haven’t been here for years,” Diamond said.
“It’s a godforsaken place.”
It was rainy with an east wind blowing when they drove to the airfield. The few derelict buildings remaining had the look of ancient ruins. The monolith that had once been a hi-tech control tower remained standing, skeletal and sad. Bath council bulldozers had done their damnedest in 1955 to make Charmy Down inhospitable for squatters and the weather had taken care of the rest. Most of the RAF buildings, the thirteen hangars, the field maintenance shops, the ammunition pens and the Nissen huts, had been levelled, but their footings still scarred the ground. The concrete runways and perimeter track remained if you could make them out under a coating of weed and scrub.
A short distance from the control tower a scene-of-crime unit was at work in thick mud, having taped off an area rutted with tyre tracks. Paul Gilbert had been quick to get them up here.
“To you and me, this looks like a dog’s dinner,” Diamond commented to Keith Halliwell as they watched the activity from behind the tape, “but to a SOCO it’s sheer joy, all those tread marks and shoeprints.”
The stooping SOCOs in their overalls looked as joyful as lobsters in the tank at a seafood restaurant.
“What do you expect them to find, guv?”
“A body would be good.”