The Tooth Tattoo(113)

Mel was trying to think how he could get rid of Harry. ‘I wish I could help, but …’

Harry shook his head. ‘I’m not looking for help from you. I’m here to warn you of what you could be getting into.’

Mel did his best to make light of it. ‘Good thing I don’t trade in ivory.’

‘I’m talking about that,’ Harry pointed under the bed. He’d spotted the viola case.

‘My instrument? Thanks, but I’m being ultra-careful with it, as you appreciate.’

‘I’m thinking about who owns it. I don’t know for certain that the guy who presented me with the Maggini is the same who owns your Amati. I don’t know for certain that he’s a high-up in the yakuza. All I can tell you is that I’ve looked online at the press accounts of when I was first reported missing in Budapest. They all say that when my hotel room was searched, my two Tertis Model violas were found. Not one of them mentions the Maggini. It must have been collected. For this to have happened so quickly, before even the police got there, someone must have known about my abduction – someone with inside knowledge of the yakuza, someone acting on behalf of the owner, Mr. Hamada.’

Mel felt a definite tingling sensation at the tip of his left little finger.

‘So, my friend, you’ve heard my story,’ Harry said, ‘and now it’s time for some straight talking from you.’

Mel shook his head. ‘I don’t have anything to say.’

‘I’m serious,’ Harry said. ‘This is how serious I am.’

The right hand had come out of his coat pocket holding a handgun, an automatic.





26





‘It’s bloody frustrating,’ Keith Halliwell said to those of the team who were listening, ‘but there’s no point in us buzzing around Bath like blue-arsed flies. The boss has put out an all-units call. Wait for the shout. It’ll come. Then we can reel him in.’

‘Is he dangerous?’ Paul Gilbert asked.

‘Lethal when DCs ask daft questions.’

‘I mean Harry Cornell.’

‘Anyone on the run has to be considered dangerous. After four years he’s probably got himself a shooter.’

‘He must know he’s taking a risk coming here. What’s he doing it for?’

‘How would I know? He’s the one you want to ask. Old scores, maybe. If he’s stalking the people he used to know, he must have something to settle with them.’

‘Could it be sour grapes that they replaced him in the band and he’s a forgotten man now?’

‘The band?’

‘Quartet.’

‘You could be right. These performers have inflated egos.’

‘The guy who replaced him had better watch out, then. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.’


Diamond treated himself to a later start. He’d worked overtime the evening before, not only visiting Ivan, but making a late trip to Manvers Street to set up the dragnet for Harry. He phoned in early. No news. It was too much to hope for a quick arrest.

He caught himself talking to the cat again as he put down food, a sure sign of stress. Raffles ignored him, and after a sniff ignored the pieces of salmon squeezed from the pouch and sat by the plate waiting, a way of informing a dim-witted owner that rabbit, lamb or beef were preferable every time. Cat food in packets of twelve always included some flavour Raffles rejected.

‘You’re too picky for your own good, Mr. Cat,’ Diamond said. ‘A contented mind is a continual feast. It’s a lesson in life.’

A short lesson. Ten minutes later he softened and put out a plate of lamb. Raffles had been Steph’s cat and he could almost hear her urging him to open another packet. So the cat got the continual feast and the contented mind.

The big man pottered around, making tea and toast until he noticed the message light winking on the kitchen phone. A call must have come in while he was shaving. He pressed play in case it was Manvers Street to say they’d found Harry Cornell.

The voice was Paloma’s.

He stopped everything, stood still and listened.

‘Peter, this is me. I expect you’re still hard at work on the case of those poor Japanese women. Well, I was thinking back to our Vienna trip and that little shrine of flowers we found by the canal. It may mean nothing at all, but on the other hand … Listen, I’ve been doing some research of my own and I ought to speak to you about it. Is there any chance we could meet? Let me know if you think I could be helpful.’

If you think I could be helpful.

No need to think. This was Paloma wanting to meet again. He called her mobile.

She had switched it off. Nothing is ever simple. So he left a voicemail message saying he’d be grateful for any help she could give and would call her again to fix a time and place.