‘Hectic, as usual. Yours?’
‘Much the same. You look tired.’
‘Do I? It must be all the clubbing.’
He wasn’t going to ask how her personal life was going. All too painfully he was minded of the tall guy he’d seen her with at the concert, the one he had dubbed the dog’s dinner.
‘I got your message about Vienna,’ he prompted her.
‘Oh, yes. Vienna,’ she said with obvious relief. ‘The little shrine of flowers by the canal. I’ve been thinking about them. The woman who died was Japanese, you discovered?’
‘Yes, and we thought she committed suicide, but we now believe she was murdered.’
‘Like the woman found in Bath?’
‘Strangled, yes. That’s the theory.’
‘Don’t you know for certain?’
‘The body was returned to Japan and cremated. Our suspicions are based on circumstantial evidence, a growing amount of it.’
‘You sound confident.’
‘I am. She’d been working as a prostitute in Tokyo. Then she turned up in Vienna at one of the Staccati concerts. We reckon she was employed by the Japanese mafia.’
‘Doing what – apart from the obvious?’
‘Basically, spying. One of the quartet – the one who later went missing – was dealing in netsuke made from mammoth ivory. It got up the noses of the mob because they wanted the monopoly on the netsuke trade. So they ordered Emi to find out more.’
‘Who was the dealer?’
‘The violist. Not the one we heard at Corsham. He’s new. This was a man called Harry Cornell.’
‘And he was in Vienna?’
‘In two thousand and eight, when all this happened.’
‘Did he murder her?’
‘It looks a strong bet.’
‘Was he a Brit?’
Diamond nodded. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Let me tell you about the flowers. Do you remember the bunch I found lying on the pavement and pushed back into the wall?’
‘The lilies.’
‘We called them lilies and it’s true they are a variety of lily. There was no message with them that I could see. Most of the dead flowers were bunches of carnations, some with cards attached, with Japanese writing. I assume they were put there by Japanese people who knew the woman.’
‘I expect so.’
‘The Japanese like carnations. But I was more interested in the living flowers, the long-stemmed ones we called lilies. Do you remember them, with the pinkish-white star shapes and long yellow-tipped stamens?’
‘Just about,’ he said.
She opened a book that she’d marked with a Post-it note and handed it across the desk. ‘They were asphodels.’
He remembered them now. ‘I wouldn’t have known. Is it important?’
‘I don’t know. You must decide. They have a strong association with death. In Greek mythology, the underworld, where dead souls went, had asphodel meadows. The best place to find yourself in was the Elysian fields, where the blessed went. The asphodel meadows were a stage lower, for indifferent and ordinary souls. You’d probably sinned a bit if you ended up there.’
‘Just a bit?’
‘Let’s say you weren’t considered a total write-off.’
‘I think I know where the write-offs went.’
‘Happily it doesn’t concern us.’
‘Yet.’
She conjured up a smile. ‘Speak for yourself. Do you know about the language of the flowers?’
‘I’ve heard there is one,’ he said. ‘All Greek to me.’
‘No, this isn’t Greek. This is English. The asphodel has a meaning all its own, a precise message that hasn’t changed in two hundred years. You’ll find it in pre-Victorian books and even today on the internet. It’s this: “My regret follows you to the grave”.’
He needed a moment to take it in. ‘Strange. Like a message to a dead person?’
‘All the main flowers have significance according to this system and most of the sentiments are pretty bland, like snowdrops meaning hope, campanulas gratitude.’
‘Roses for love?’
‘Red roses. But this one is specific. It may be pure chance that someone settled on asphodels, but if they were using the language of the flowers intentionally, they were making a statement that was very suitable for a shrine.’
‘ “My regret follows you to the grave.” Are you thinking this could have been left by the murderer?’
‘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.’