‘Don’t you own your viola?’
‘I couldn’t possibly afford an Amati. They’re worth a fortune. This sometimes happens with professional players — if you get lucky. We get offered top quality instruments by the people who own them. In a few cases they’re gifts, but mostly they’re on extended loan.’
‘I guess that would make anyone nervous.’
‘Especially as I once had my own instrument stolen.’
‘When was this?’
‘Years ago, when I was doing orchestral work.’ Mel related the story of the mugging outside the Royal Festival Hall and it was obvious that the experience had deeply affected him. Even at this distance in time his voice broke up a little in telling it.
‘That’s so cruel,’ Ingeborg cried out suddenly.
‘Mean,’ Diamond said. ‘What would they want with a viola that had very little value?’
‘Maybe they thought it was worth more,’ Mel said. ‘For me, it was valuable.’
‘A young musician, trying to earn a living?’ Ingeborg stressed in sympathy. ‘I should think it was irreplaceable.’
‘So who does your Amati belong to?’ Diamond asked.
Mel vibrated his lips and became cagey again. ‘I’m not allowed to say. The owner likes to remain anonymous. That’s a condition of the loan.’
‘From what you were saying, you only acquired it recently. Can I infer that he lives in Bath?’
‘No, you can’t.’
‘Meaning he doesn’t live here — or I shouldn’t be asking?’
‘No comment.’ Followed by a twitchy grin.
‘We’ve heard those words a few times before, haven’t we?’ Diamond said with a glance at Ingeborg. ‘Let’s walk a bit, Mel.’
They crossed the bridge over the railway and headed through a wooded area towards Sydney House, a large private building at the eastern end of the gardens, but screened by another pseudo-classical folly known as the Loggia, a semicircle of Ionic columns and pilasters fronting a cement wall.
‘Tell us about your background, how you came to join this quartet — or is that another secret?’
‘Not at all.’ Mel seemed to welcome the change of emphasis. ‘It was a phone call from Ivan. They needed a violist and they’d got to know about me and came to some recital to hear me play. I met them by stages, Ivan first, then Cat, and they called me in to do an audition, playing with them. I was in a blue funk but it seemed to go well and I was welcomed in.’
‘Did you have any qualms about joining?’
‘I jumped at the chance.’
‘And now you’re fully signed up.’
‘Yep.’
‘For how long?’
‘Indefinitely.’
‘Foreign tours?’
‘They’re planning one for South America as soon as we finish our stint in Bath.’
‘Up the Amazon?’
He smiled. ‘I hope not.’
‘Have you played abroad before, Mel?’
‘Heaps of times, filling in with orchestras and ensembles.’
‘Europe?’
‘Paris, Warsaw, Berlin, Vienna, Amsterdam.’
Trying not to reveal that every neuron in his brain was transmitting at peak capacity, Diamond threw in a question that could have passed for small talk. ‘So you’ve been to Vienna? Who was that with?’
‘You name it. I must have played there a dozen times. The first was with the London Symphony Orchestra. Last winter guesting with the Vienna State Ballet.’
‘When you say “guesting”...?’
Mel grinned. ‘I wasn’t dancing. They needed a violist at short notice and one of the orchestra remembered me from a previous visit. In the music business it’s who you know.’
While the two were in conversation, Ingeborg had left them to it. They appeared to have hit it off without any input from her. But she’d noticed something Diamond had not. Her difficulty was finding how to tip him off without Mel knowing. She touched Diamond’s arm. ‘Guv.’
He ignored her, still high on the discovery that Mel had worked in Vienna. ‘So when were you first there?’
Mel was still talking in a relaxed way. ‘With the LSO? That was a shorter trip. Two or three concerts as far as I remember. Mahler, I think. As you approach the stage there’s a bust of the composer staring at you. Slightly unnerving.’
‘Yes, but when?’
‘Two thousand and eight, if my memory is right.’
‘Weren’t the Staccati performing in Vienna in two thousand and eight?’
‘Don’t know. I wasn’t following their progress at the time.’
‘I believe they were.’
‘Coincidence, then. But Vienna is a stop-off on most of the European tours, so it’s no big deal if we overlapped.’
Diamond was like a sniffer dog in a cannabis plantation. His list of strong suspects had increased. ‘Which part of Vienna were you in?’
‘Now you’re asking,’ Mel said. ‘Must have been Karlsplatz. We played at the Musikverein.’
‘The Staccati were at the Konzerthaus. That’s a different location, is it?’
‘I didn’t run into them, if that’s what you’re asking. There are several concert halls.’
Ingeborg caught up with them and gave Diamond a nudge. ‘Guv, can I have a word?’
‘Presently.’ He continued to question Mel. ‘Can you recall what time of year you were there with the LSO?’
‘At this distance in time?’
‘I can check with their management, I expect.’
‘Why do you need to know?’
‘It’s all part of our investigation into the death of the Japanese girl,’ he said, not wanting to give more away at this stage.
They were crossing the white-painted cast-iron bridge over the canal, more than a mile from where Mari’s body had been recovered, but still a reminder of why they were there. Ahead, the path would end at the Loggia in front of Sydney House.
Ingeborg refused to be sidelined any longer. ‘Guv, we’re being watched.’
‘What?’
‘I noticed this hooded guy standing among the trees by the temple where we first met Mel and he’s been trailing us ever since, using the trees as a cover.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘Not sure. I just caught glimpses through the bushes.’
‘Why didn’t you say?’
She didn’t answer.
‘He’ll have to cross the bridge if he’s coming after us.’
Diamond said. ‘He’ll be out in the open then. Wearing a hoodie, you said. What colour?’
‘Dark blue.’
‘I’ll walk on with Mel. Why don’t you double back and see if you can catch him and find out what his game is.’ For Mel’s benefit he added, ‘Parks are favourite places for weirdos.’
Ingeborg did as she was asked. On the other side of the bridge she left the path and headed into the undergrowth to the right.
‘Will she be all right?’ Mel asked.
‘He’s the one who should be worried,’ Diamond said, glancing back. ‘She’s a black belt.’
They stopped to look. A minute or two went by. They’d lost sight of Ingeborg. The scene was peaceful. People were playing tennis on the courts to the left. A light breeze rustled the leaves.
‘There he is.’
A dark figure broke from cover and sprinted through the trees with Ingeborg in pursuit. At first the hoodie appeared to be heading across the open ground towards Beckford Road. Then Ingeborg cut the angle to intercept him and he veered in their direction again.
‘She’ll trap him,’ Mel said. ‘He won’t get over the canal.’
‘Dead right,’ Diamond said. ‘He’s had it.’
22
The hooded man was less fit than his pursuer. And unfortunately for him, he’d picked the wrong direction.
‘He doesn’t know he’s heading straight for the canal,’ Mel said. ‘You can’t tell from where he is.’