He turned towards the conservatory extension that seemed to be used as an anteroom to the pool. Inside were towels on a clothes rack, more garden furniture, a rowing machine, a treadmill and a whirlpool.
The door was unlocked. ‘I bet the inner door is locked,’ he said as they went in.
He was right.
‘And I bet there’s an alarm system,’ Ingeborg said.
‘Let’s find out.’ He picked up a sandbox used to support a sunshade. It was good and heavy. He swung it at the door. The door stayed firm, but the alarm went off. ‘You’re right.’
He tried again.
Ingeborg said, ‘Guv, should we be doing this?’
At the third attempt the box ripped through the bolt mechanism.
He stepped inside, through a living room and across a large entrance hall. ‘Find the control panel and switch that bloody thing off.’
The place had the feel of somewhere that hadn’t seen anyone for most of the week. He felt inside the wire basket containing the mail.
The names on the envelopes told him what he’d feared. More than one person lived here. Martin and Jocelyn Steel. The man had letters from the Law Society and other legal organisations. Probably a solicitor.
Ingeborg silenced the alarm and came from the back of the house to join him. He showed her the letters.
‘A man as well? That’s not what we wanted to find, guv.’
‘What’s through there?’
‘The kitchen, I think.’
They went through. The smell was not nice. Ingeborg found two trout on the work surface wrapped in tinfoil. They reeked. ‘Their supper, I suppose. Look, there are potatoes waiting to boil in the saucepan.’
‘It doesn’t suggest to me that Jocelyn Steel was planning to hang herself.’
A door from the laundry room connected to the double garage. Two cars were in there, the ‘his’ and ‘hers’ it seemed, a silver Porsche Cayenne Turbo and a red Mini Cooper.
He checked the answerphone. Nine messages, the first on Sunday morning. Four from the same person, who called herself Mummy. By the fourth, she was getting frantic and said so. ‘Are you all right? I keep trying. You didn’t say you were going away or anything. Darling, please call me, however late you get in.’
Diamond sighed. ‘Someone had better break it to Mummy.’ He would do it himself. He didn’t wish every unpleasant duty on his subordinates.
Of the other calls, one was from someone called Agnes, who sounded like Jocelyn’s friend and addressed her as Joss. Two were from Dawn, a younger-sounding voice with the soft West Country accent. At the second try she said she was bothered about Prince and she wouldn’t mind getting him out and riding him.
‘The horse,’ Ingeborg said.
‘There was I thinking Prince Harry.’
The other calls were from South-West Gas, to arrange a service of the central heating; and the library, because a book Mr Steel had ordered had come in.
He used the phone to arrange with Leaman for a forensic team to come out. ‘I’m ninety-nine per cent sure we’ve found the right place. Is Keith back from the autopsy yet?’
‘He just got in.’
‘Tell him he’s needed here.’
‘Do you want me as well, guv?’ Leaman asked.
‘No. Someone has to keep taking the calls.’ To Ingeborg he said, ‘Let’s go upstairs.’
She said, ‘I thought you’d never ask.’
‘Ingeborg.’
‘Guv?’
‘I do the jokes.’
The Steels shared a bedroom and it was clearly important in their lives, with a kingsize bed fitted into a wall unit with an array of soft toys, books, CDs and ornaments. A plasma TV and sound system were on the opposite wall. The white quilt on the bed was doubled back. There were wine glasses on the bedside tables, each with a tidemark of red wine.
‘Doesn’t look to me as if they were fighting,’ Diamond said.
‘Guv.’
Ingeborg had found a framed wedding photo. Beyond doubt the bride was the woman found hanging in Royal Victoria Park.
32
T he doorbell chimed.
‘Too soon to be Halliwell or forensics,’ Diamond said. From the bedroom window all he could see on the front drive was Ingeborg’s Ka. ‘See who it is.’
He picked up the wedding picture and studied the groom, a tall, slim figure in a morning suit. It was helpful that Martin Steel was holding the grey topper, not wearing it. He hadn’t much hair on top, a distinct point of recognition, and there were silver streaks in the sideburns. Some years older than his bride, by the look of him. The thought crossed Diamond’s mind that this might even be Jocelyn’s father, but he dismissed it just as quickly; the place for that picture wasn’t in the bedroom.
‘Guv, would you mind coming down?’
‘On my way.’ First he removed the photo from its frame and slipped it into his pocket.
Standing in the hall with Ingeborg was a girl of school age, probably not more than fourteen. She was in T-shirt and jeans. A stud in her nose and coloured stripes in her hair.
‘This is Dawn, the stable girl. She looks after the horse twice a day.’
‘Good for her.’ He smiled at the girl. ‘Better for the horse.’
There wasn’t a flicker of amusement.
‘She saw my car and called to see who we are.’
‘Sensible,’ he said, thinking a word of praise was no bad thing. He hoped this wasn’t one of those sullen teenagers. ‘Well, young lady, I expect Ingeborg has told you we’re detectives. You work for Mr and Mrs Steel, then? Have you seen them lately?’
‘Saturday,’ Dawn said. ‘Mrs Steel, not him. Her name is Joss, but I call her Mrs Steel.’ She had that youthful habit of ending statements on a rising note, making them sound like questions. Fair enough. She was communicating, giving the answers and volunteering information as well. Kids aren’t all bad.
‘Saturday? That’s three days ago.’
‘He’s all right, except he hates being locked up all day.’
Diamond wondered for a moment if he’d got this case all wrong. Then the penny dropped. ‘You’re talking about the horse?’
She nodded. ‘Three days is too much. He needs to get out.’
‘Between you and me, Dawn, we’re interested in the people.’
‘Why — has something happened to them?’
‘We’re trying to find out. They haven’t been seen by anybody for a couple of days.’
‘Yeah, it’s weird. She always tells me if they go away. Then I get to ride Prince. He needs riding every day. She hasn’t taken him out on the roads since Saturday. I can tell by the state of his hooves.’
‘Does anyone call at the house? A cleaner, perhaps?’
‘Lady in a van. Tidy House Services. It isn’t always the same lady. They come Thursday.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘The gardener, Ted. He does Wednesday.’
‘Is he local?’
‘Just up the lane, cottage with the gnome in the front fishing in the pond.’
‘Ted who?’
‘Hawkins. Something like that.’
‘No one else? No strangers — apart from us? This is important, Dawn. You may be our only witness.’
She pulled a face at that. ‘You’ve got to be joking. I’m not a witness. I’m mucking out and grooming and feeding, aren’t I? I don’t stand about looking to see who calls.’
‘You’re certain you saw no one?’
‘I told you.’
‘Fair enough. There are no other regular visitors than you and the gardener, then?’
She hesitated and fiddled with her hair. ‘Don’t know if I should be telling you this. Sometimes when I come Fridays there’s a posh car outside. Belongs to this bloke in his twenties. Quite a hunk, he is. He leaves about five.’
‘You don’t know who he is?’
‘I’ve never spoken to him.’
‘A friend of Mrs Steel’s, would you say?’