‘Why didn’t you go for the musical?’
‘Cabaret? Far too expensive, and not her style of singing.’
‘So who made the approach?’
‘Yours truly.’ He smiled. ‘I can be persuasive.’
‘Had you met Clarion before?’
‘No, this was my chance. I asked her out to lunch in London and sold the idea to her. She leapt at it. Neither of us mentioned that it’s been a while since she had a big hit, but it was a factor. And she still had the acting bug. Tough negotiations followed with the agent, of course.’
‘Tilda Box. I met her at the hospital.’
‘You did?’ Melmot was beginning to treat Diamond with caution, if not respect. ‘Miss Box is a hard bargainer. Eventually we got the terms reduced to a realistic figure. God knows what we’ll have to pay now.’
‘Only if they can prove you were negligent,’ Diamond said. ‘I’m no lawyer, but these were special circumstances.’
‘Denise Pearsall was in our employment, unfortunately. If the fault was hers I can’t see us avoiding a substantial payout. Is there anything else you need to know? I really ought to be meeting my visitors.’
Diamond suggested walking back to the orangery, talking as they went. ‘When Clarion came to Bath to start rehearsing, was anyone with her?’
‘Tilda, making sure she was satisfied with the arrangements.’
‘No one else? Where did they stay?’
‘I don’t know about Tilda, but Clarion put up here for a couple of days.’
‘Here?’ Diamond pointed a thumb at the stately home. ‘You had her as a house guest?’
‘I suggested it early in the bargaining process, as an incentive. One of the things I know about millionaire pop stars is that it pleases them to mingle with old money. It makes them feel more secure.’
‘A couple of days, you said?’
‘Yes, when they started rehearsing until late she moved to the Royal Crescent Hotel.’
‘For you as a fan, it must have been a dream come true.’
The colour rose in the fan’s cheeks. ‘It was all very proper. My mother lives here too, you know.’
‘I met her when we arrived,’ Diamond said. ‘Famous for her cake.’
Melmot clicked his tongue. ‘Is that what she tells people as they arrive? She’s incorrigible.’
‘I was also told about your late father.’
‘The whole family saga? Oh my word. It makes one cringe. She’ll talk to anyone. Father had an accident while cleaning his shotgun. Mother was typically calm about the whole thing, I have to say. They weren’t close.’
Diamond could understand why. ‘Are any other members of your family living here?’
He shook his head. ‘Just mother and me. I’d offer to show you round, but I’m supposed to be available to answer questions about the plants and if you don’t mind I really ought to be more visible now.’
They’d reached the orangery. Diamond thanked him and went looking for Halliwell.
He found him at a table on the terrace overlooking the south lawn. He had a cup of tea in front of him and an empty plate that he slipped deftly under the saucer. ‘I thought if I waited here, guv, you’d come by sooner or later.’
Diamond pointed. ‘Was that the lemon drizzle?’
‘It was.’
‘Good?’
‘The best ever. I was lucky. I had the last piece. You can still get a cup of tea and a digestive biscuit.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘There could be flapjacks.’
‘I break my teeth on them.’ Muttering, he went over to where the tea was being served by the Wellow Women’s Institute.
‘I don’t want you thinking this has anything to do with the cake I missed out on,’ he said to Halliwell when he returned to the table, ‘but tomorrow morning you’re standing in for me at the post-mortem.’
10
Late the same afternoon in Manvers Street, Diamond shut himself in his office and sank into the armchair he rarely used. On the face of it, the case could now be closed. Denise’s suicide could only mean she held herself responsible for the damage to Clarion’s face. What other interpretation could be put on it? By some freakish oversight she had used caustic soda with the regular make-up. It was unlikely to have been deliberate. Nobody knew of any feud between them. Everyone spoke of her as a balanced, conscientious member of the full-time staff, good at her job. Her horror at what had happened must have driven her to take her own life.
It was tempting to leave the lawyers to discover the truth about the scarring episode and argue over who was responsible. They were going to make a long-running, expensive court action out of it for sure. He’d only been drawn into this at Georgina’s insistence, and she would be content if Sweeney Todd went ahead as scheduled. There was no reason why it shouldn’t. The legal process would be slow to start.
But his self-respect as a detective wouldn’t let him walk away. There ought to be a better explanation. He reached for one of the forensic textbooks on the shelf behind him. What would be the use of caustic soda in a theatre? Presently he learned that sodium hydroxide, as it was known to the scientists, was much more than a remedy for blocked drains. Destructive as it was to human tissue, it had useful applications, mainly because of its action on unwanted fats and acidic materials. Soap manufacturers depended on it for converting fat, tallow and vegetable oils. It was used in the processing of cotton and the dyeing of synthetic fibres, in the manufacture of pulp and paper, biodiesel and PVC. The recycling industry needed it to de-ink waste paper. Incredibly even food producers and water-treatment firms made use of the stuff.
For all that, he thought, the simple power to unblock drains seemed the best bet. A theatre with eleven dressing rooms – most with shared washing facilities – was certain to experience problems with waste water. Actors would be showering and washing away hair and make-up after every performance. It would be an ill-prepared theatre that didn’t have drain-cleaning products at the ready. A cheap, effective product such as caustic soda might be preferred to something with a fancy name that cost three times as much.
But where had Denise picked up the chemical, and why? He’d found none in her house. The theatre cleaning staff would have a store somewhere. He was wondering if supplies of the stuff also lurked in her workplace among the clutter of the wardrobe department, where costumes were laundered daily and drains might well need unblocking. Equally, some might be tucked away under a sink in one of the dressing rooms she visited.
The biggest mystery was how she could have made the mistake. Pure caustic soda came in sturdy containers with child-proof lids and a printed warning. Could a professional like Denise have muddled one with a tin of talc? The fine, white powder might appear similar, but the packaging was distinctive.
Early on, he’d speculated whether someone else had tampered with Denise’s make-up and this still seemed possible. Various people were unhappy that Clarion had the starring role. If one of them had decided to injure her and put her out of the play, they knew she was the only cast member being made up by Denise. Doctor the make-up and it was obvious who would take the rap.
This line of thought presented two problems he hadn’t resolved: opportunity and timing. First, Kate in wardrobe had said Denise arrived with her black leather make-up case and didn’t open it or leave it lying around. She went straight from the wardrobe room to Clarion’s dressing room. And second, there had been a delay of at least twenty minutes before Clarion reacted.
There had to be a way through this. Deep in thought, he clasped his hands behind his neck and stared at the ceiling. Finally he tapped the chair arm and stood up. He was no Sherlock Holmes. He needed to ask for a second opinion.
He got up and put his head around the door. ‘Is Ingeborg still about?’ She could well have gone home. It was late in the afternoon and she always got in early.