A Death in Diamonds

Beryl took a moment to restore her composure. ‘She was dark, yes, but she didn’t want to be. She’d seen the sort of clients I got. She’d been interested in changing her look anyway.’ With a steady gaze, she added, ‘Gentlemen prefer blondes, you know.’

Darbishire didn’t, personally. His wife’s hair was jet black before the grey started to appear. But then, he didn’t think of himself as a gentleman, either. He moved on.

‘So, she peroxided her hair?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you help her?’

‘No.’

‘And did you provide any of her clothes?’

‘No. We’re different sizes.’

‘And the tiara?’

‘What about it?’

‘Real diamonds. Was it yours?’

Beryl stopped and stared at him as if he was from Mars. ‘Yeah,’ she drawled. ‘It was my second party tiara. I kept it with my bleeding crown jewels.’

‘You’d never seen it before?’

‘No. I hadn’t. Still haven’t – except that drawing in the papers.’

‘You didn’t need one . . . professionally?’

‘I had a little paste thing.’ She glanced at the stub of her cigarette, now finished, took another one from the packet and lit it. ‘Nothing special. Got it from a shop in Brighton, in the Lanes. I offered it to Gina but she didn’t need it. Found something better, didn’t she?’

‘Evidently she did. Any idea how?’

Beryl took a drag and shook her head.

‘Are you sure you didn’t provide it?’

‘No!’ She seemed genuinely surprised by the question. ‘How could I? Why would I?’

‘Nobody gave it to you, or asked you to—?’

‘What are you getting at?’ she asked, brow furrowing. ‘D’you mean another of my gentlemen? No.’

This was not what Darbishire meant. If a gang had planned this murder and stolen a tiara to order, or if they’d had one lying around after a robbery and decided to use it for fun, it was plausible – just – that they had given it to Beryl to pass on to the unfortunate Gina. This was one of his theories. But he believed her surprise at the suggestion. She simply wasn’t a good enough actress to fake it.

‘What did you know about Perez?’ he asked, changing tack.

‘Nothing.’ Her gaze was shifty again.

‘He was a client of the agency,’ Darbishire pointed out.

‘He wanted company a few times, yes. But I’d never met him.’

‘You said his last “companion” was otherwise engaged. Was that deliberate? Did you ask to take over?’

‘No! She didn’t want him! She—’ Beryl caught herself and stopped suddenly.

‘She what, Miss White?’

‘Nothing,’ the girl said. Her attempt at breeziness was undermined by the stiff set of her shoulders.

‘Don’t lie to me,’ Darbishire barked. ‘Don’t even think about it. Why didn’t she want him?’

Beryl stiffened further. ‘Look, it was nothing. She just said that he wasn’t the most . . . gentlemanly. It’s not exactly news. They’re not all saints. There was something in his eyes, she said . . . But that’s all I knew, I swear.’

The agency hadn’t mentioned this. They weren’t entirely forthcoming with information, Darbishire had noticed. Given that it was illegal for them to profit from prostitution, they had to be careful what they said.

‘What about Gina?’

‘What about her?’

‘Did she know about him, too?’

The escort shifted uncomfortably and crossed one elegant leg over the other. ‘I might have told her. She was just grateful for the job. Look, can I go? I don’t know anything. I wasn’t even there!’

‘That’s the point, Miss White,’ Darbishire insisted, stepping up a gear. ‘You weren’t.’

‘W-what d’you mean?’

Sensing he was on the right track, he pushed on.

‘There’s something you’re not telling us. And if you don’t come clean, this won’t end well for you.’

She flicked another frightened glance towards Woolgar. Darbishire looked round to see if his sergeant was glowering at her in a threatening way, but he seemed as impassive as ever.

‘That house,’ Darbishire said harshly. ‘Why did they go to Cresswell Place in particular?’

‘I don’t know!’

‘Why not a hotel?’

‘I told you, I don’t know! I assumed Mr Perez asked to go there.’

‘You do know, Miss White. We’ve talked to the char who cleaned at number forty-four. She’s admitted that room was used for occasional assignations by the agency. Gina Fonteyn somehow had the keys, but Perez was expecting you. Admit it – you gave the keys to her. You’d been there before and—’

‘Not for months!’ she insisted. ‘I didn’t touch those keys, I swear!’

‘Let me put a theory to you,’ Darbishire suggested.

‘OK, but—’

‘I think you arranged where Gina Fonteyn was going to meet up with Dino Perez. Somewhere nice and quiet, without witnesses like a hotel clerk. I think you made sure you were out of it, but you let somebody else know too. There are some dangerous characters involved, Miss White. Men who know how to hurt a pretty face. Maybe there was money in it for you, or maybe you were just scared out of your wits, but you did something you’re ashamed of. And you fled London as fast as you could to get away from it—’

‘I swear! I never—’

‘But you can’t escape, Miss White. Not from these people. Not without our help. You need to be honest with us or we can’t protect you.’