‘That’s why I phoned you. It sounds like someone with a guilty conscience.’
‘I suppose,’ he said. ‘But let’s not forget all the carnations already left there by Japanese friends or family. They knew Emi back in Japan and wanted to pay respect while they were in Vienna.’
‘So you’re thinking friends or family must have left the asphodels?’
‘Don’t you?’
‘I would,’ Paloma said, ‘except that the Japanese have their own language of the flowers and it doesn’t include the asphodel. This is a peculiarly British thing.’
‘I get it now,’ he said. ‘You’re thinking some Brit must have left them because of what they’re supposed to mean. Harry?’
‘They were not more than a day old when we found them. They could only have been placed there while we were in Vienna ourselves. If it was Harry, he’d have needed to be in Vienna in July.’
‘That’s not impossible,’ Diamond said. ‘We don’t know where he disappeared to after Budapest. I suppose he could have come through Vienna. He’d need to know the symbolism.’
‘He’s a musician,’ she said. ‘An intelligent, sensitive person, one assumes.’
And not a yob like me, he thought, who couldn’t tell an asphodel from an asparagus. ‘Maybe I underestimate these musicians.’
‘It may be a long shot, Peter, but once I started checking it seemed to make sense. Isn’t there something about murderers returning to the scene of the crime?’
‘That’s a myth. Only if they’re taken there in handcuffs to show where they buried the body.’
‘Have you checked whether any flowers have been left by the Avon in memory of the other girl?’
He shook his head. Checking bunches of flowers wasn’t part of the investigation process.
‘Might be worth your while,’ she said.
‘Possibly.’ He didn’t say it with much conviction.
‘Anyway,’ Paloma said with a trace of annoyance, ‘I decided it was my duty to bring it to your attention.’
Her duty? With that short, uncompromising word the gulf between them had grown into Death Valley. He’d kidded himself this was about something more than obligation. ‘Thanks. You’ve obviously done some homework.’
The disappointment must have been written all over his face. He felt himself reddening.
‘I didn’t phrase that very well,’ she added.
‘That’s okay.’
‘It’s strange,’ she said. ‘When I saw you at the concert the other evening I was flabbergasted. I wouldn’t have expected to meet you there in a million years.’
‘There you go.’
‘But now I understand. The link with the Staccati. Peter, I do hope one of them hasn’t killed these women. I can’t believe they’re capable of such dreadful crimes. They’re fabulous musicians. Even you must...’ She clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry. That’s so patronising.’
‘True, even so,’ he said. The earlier remark had wounded him more. ‘A lot of what we heard was way above my head. I recognised the “Ritual Fire Dance”.’
‘Enjoyed it?’
‘Always have.’
‘Perhaps we should do another concert some time. Quartet music is an acquired taste.’
It sounded like a peace offering, but he couldn’t tamely accept it. Too much had come between them. The real issue hadn’t been faced. Impulsively, he blurted it out. ‘I’d spoil your enjoyment. You’re better off with someone who knows this stuff, like your latest man.’
At her computer in the background Judy the PA continued to gaze at the screen, but her ears must have been flapping.
Paloma frowned. ‘My what?’
‘Your tall friend in the grey suit.’
‘That was Mike.’
‘Yes, you told me.’
‘My brother Miguel. I must have mentioned him before now. He likes to be known as Mike.’ Now it was her turn to blush. ‘Oh my God, you didn’t really think I was seeing someone else. Peter, I know we had our difference of opinion, but I’m not so angry with you that I’m going out with other men.’
The relief surged through him. He was speechless, far more emotional than he expected.
She filled the silence with more explanation. ‘Mike lives in London. He’s a Beethoven fanatic, and I was offered tickets through my connection with Corsham Court, so I thought of him.’
He blinked and his eyes moistened.
Paloma said, ‘Why don’t I walk downstairs with you? Judy can look after the office.’
They left the PA in charge.
‘This hasn’t been a total waste of your time if it’s cleared up that misunderstanding,’ Paloma said as they went down her grand, crimson-carpeted staircase.
‘Far from it,’ he said. ‘Far from it.’
She linked her hand under his arm. ‘I’m glad you came.’
‘You could be onto something with the asphodels.’
‘Stuff the asphodels. I’ve missed you, Peter.’
‘If I’m honest, it hasn’t been much fun for me.’
‘Truce?’ she said when they reached the front door. She offered her lips and they kissed lightly.
‘Truce,’ he said. ‘Sorry — and not just for jumping to the wrong conclusion. Sorry for being an oaf on the towpath that evening.’
‘And I’m sorry for being such a grouch. Can we start over?’
‘That would be good.’
They kissed again and held each other before he got into the car and drove away.
Mrs. Carlyle came to the door of the house in Forester Road. ‘You’re the policeman.’
Diamond didn’t deny it.
‘You want to speak to Mel?’
‘That’s the general idea. Is he out in Sydney Gardens again?’
‘Definitely not. He had a phone call from one of his musical friends and ordered a taxi straight away. He was in a bit of a state if you ask me.’
‘Which friend?’
‘How would I know? But it seemed to be an emergency. Something about a cat.’
‘Cat? She’s the cellist. Has something happened to her?’
‘I couldn’t tell you. Funny name for a cellist.’
27
Cat was living south of the river in a two-up, two-down terraced house, a relic of Bath’s industrial past. Compared with Ivan’s grand address in Great Pulteney Street, Sydenham Buildings was a slum, bordered by the railway, the main road and the cemetery, but there was an advantage in that Cat had sole use of the furnished house. There are definite compensations in living apart from one’s landlord.
All the curtains were across when Diamond arrived. He was getting wise to the lifestyle of musicians. Used to working late, they were in the habit of lying in. He rang twice and stepped back to see if the bedroom curtains moved.
He rang again.
Nothing.
He put his ear against the door and couldn’t hear anything from inside.
If Cat wasn’t at home, who was Mel visiting?
Another of the quartet — Anthony, the second violin — was in lodgings a short walk away. As the member most in need of day-to-day assistance he’d doubtless been housed close to Cat so that she could keep a sisterly eye on him. His digs were at the bottom of Westmoreland Street, parallel with Sydenham Buildings.
Still seized with the urgency he’d got from Mrs. Carlyle, Diamond drove the car round there instead of walking.
His ring was answered and it was Cat who opened the door. She was looking distressed. Faint lines of mascara marked the paths of tears down her cheeks. ‘Man, do we need you!’ she said, opening her arms. ‘Come in. They’re all inside.’
He sidestepped her embrace.
The other three members of the quartet were standing in the living room facing the window as if something of surpassing interest was happening in the street.
‘Relax, guys. The Old Bill are on the case,’ Cat told them with an effort to be cheerful.