The Tooth Tattoo(95)
‘Me, too,’ Mel added. He appeared genuinely mystified by all the attention he had been getting.
They made their way back through the gardens to Forester Road, where Ingeborg’s car was parked. Diamond questioned Mel closely about the company he kept and whether he’d made any enemies recently.
‘I don’t have time to go out,’ he said. ‘It’s all rehearsals and tutoring.’
‘Who do you tutor?’
‘Music students. It’s part of our deal.’
‘Female?’
‘Some are.’
‘Could anyone be jealous?’
‘I can’t think why.’
‘Come on, Mel,’ Diamond said. ‘Even I know students get crushes on lecturers. It wouldn’t be unheard of for a man of the world like you to get his leg over.’
Mel shook his head. ‘No chance.’
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘Look, if I want sex it’s on tap at my lodgings.’
There was a pause for thought.
‘It crossed my mind, I have to say,’ Diamond said, ‘but her mother seems to think she’s Snow White.’
‘Have you met her mother?’
‘No, I got that second-hand, but I’ve met Tippi.’
A nod from Mel was enough. No elaboration was needed.
‘Just a thought here,’ Diamond added. ‘Does Tippi have a boyfriend who might suspect you have home advantage, so to speak?’
‘She’s never mentioned one.’
‘She wouldn’t, would she?’
‘A jealous lover?’ Mel said, as if surprised by the idea.
‘It’s you he’s following now, not Tippi.’
Mel scraped the hair back from his forehead. ‘I hadn’t really thought about that.’
‘Better be on your guard. Up to now he seems content to watch you, but that could change.’
They were approaching the house and Diamond hadn’t finished with Mel. ‘What time are you leaving for the rehearsal?’
He looked at his watch. ‘In just under an hour.’
‘Because I’d love to see this valuable instrument of yours.’
‘All right.’
Mel had his own key. There was no need to bring Tippi to the door again. She wasn’t about when they went in. Probably getting dressed, Diamond decided. But he was mistaken. After they’d gone upstairs and Mel opened the door of his room, they found Tippi sitting on the bed with her feet up.
‘Wrong room,’ Mel said.
‘You don’t mind?’ she said coolly. ‘I was checking my nails.
The light’s so much better in here.’
‘I’ve got visitors,’ Mel told her.
‘See you later.’ In the act of wriggling off the bed to leave the room, she treated them to a view that was more page three than Snow White. Diamond thought she winked at him as well.
Mel wasn’t embarrassed. He’d explained the situation already. He reached under the bed and withdrew the instrument case.
‘I still can hardly believe this,’ he said as he unzipped it and opened up. ‘Four hundred years old, near enough.’
The Amati was a beautiful object regardless of its antiquity, the glazed wood almost orange in colour, the finger board and pegs darker.
Mel lifted it one-handed from the case. ‘Isn’t the graining superb? Would you like to hold it? Mozart himself could have played this. He was a viola player, you know.’
Diamond, congenitally clumsy and fearful of doing damage, put both arms underneath and cradled the precious thing Mozart may have handled.
‘Compare it with my own, and see the difference.’ Mel fished under the bed and came out with another case and opened it. This second viola was in a darker wood, but to an inexpert eye looked similar. ‘Mine is a William Hill, and pretty well regarded.’
Diamond occasionally placed a bet with William Hill, but doubted if there could be any connection.
‘It can’t live with this, can it?’ Mel said.
‘Well it has to, under the bed. Is that the best place?’
‘As good as any if it isn’t locked in a bank vault, and that’s not what the owner wants.’
Diamond handed the Amati back to Mel with the same sense of relief as the vicar at a christening. ‘What about the bow? Is that special?’
‘Oh, yes. It came with the instrument. The very best bows sell for about a hundred grand. I can’t tell you the maker of this one. I was so staggered to be presented with the viola that I forgot to ask. To be honest I’m not using it. Tough enough getting used to a new viola, so I still play with my old Tourte. If it’s comfortable and gives the sound you want, why switch?’
‘And the case?’
‘That isn’t special.’