The Vault by Peter Lovesey Read Free Book Online Page A

Philip Larkin's silly poem—but my parents didn't think much of Larkin or the so-called sexual freedom and nor did most of the people of Bath. Flower power, hippies, the Beatles and all that nonsense. The revolution came late to Bath. The buildings here were covered in grime in those days, but it was a clean place to live in. Law-abiding and safe."
    "Safe?" said Diamond.
    He nodded. "I could go out playing on summer evenings and my parents knew I would come to no harm."
    "They let you play outside?"
    "Yes, indeed. In those days nobody had ever heard of the dreadful things that happen to children now."
    "That isn't quite right, Councillor," Diamond said as he marshalled his thoughts. This happened to be a period he knew well from his collection of books on the post-war detectives. "You wouldn't remember a local man called Straffen, who strangled two little girls your own age. Here in Bath in the early fifties, before you were born. And if you weren't aware of him at the time, I'm sure your parents were, and the good people of Bath. He made all the headlines."
    Sturr straightened in his chair, as if ready to take issue, but Diamond had more to say.
    "Sadly, it's always been a risk sending children out to play." His eyes locked with the Councillor's, slipped away and came back to him. "I get weary of people telling me life was so much safer in the old days."
    A silver-haired man lower down the table said, "I remember Straffen. Wasn't he saved from the gallows?"
    Diamond nodded. "He was found insane and committed to Broadmoor. Six months later he escaped and killed another child."
    The Chairman cleared his throat noisily and asked if anyone else had an observation on the Police Report. Wigfull, ever the ambassador, spoke of the success of Operation Bumblebee, the clampdown on burglary. Another initiative, Operation Vulture, had also helped to reduce crime. Diamond was glad it was Wigfull giving the spiel. Personally, he rued the day when the image-makers had been let in to package police work. They made his job sound like something out of a Batman comic.
    Others wanted their say now, and the sooner they spoke up and shut up, the better, Diamond thought. He disliked the self-congratulation that lurked around the table. We are sitting down with senior policemen, so we must be upright citizens.
    It all reached a merciful end at 9.45 p.m. He got up to go and found Sturr at his side. The man reeked of aftershave.
    "You really shot me down in flames with your child-murderer, Superintendent," he said. "I asked for it. I laid it on a bit thick."
    Diamond took this as a peace offering. "You only repeated what most people say. I hear it so often that I like to put the contrary view sometimes. Devil's advocate."
    "Have you got a minute to spare?" Sturr gestured to Diamond to follow him.
    Irksome as it was to follow a beckoning finger, curiosity prevailed. And there was some satisfaction in seeing John Wigfull taking this in with his cow-like stare.
    The next room was in darkness, the building having closed to the public some hours before. Sturr felt for the light-switch and Diamond saw that they were in a small annexe that served as an extra gallery. About twenty pictures were displayed there, white-mounted in silver frames.
    "Take your time," said the councillor, as if there was something to be done.
    It had to be an inspection of the pictures. Dutifully, Diamond made a circuit, pausing briefly at intervals. Picture galleries were rarely on his itinerary. To his eye, the works on display were pretty similar, brownish and indistinct. In some cases, the artists had left patches unpainted. Was a picture finished if the paper showed through? He dredged deep for something positive to say. "Unusual."
    "I thought you wouldn't want to miss these," said Sturr. A charged quality had entered his voice, "They belong to me, you know. Early English watercolours. I loaned them to the city for two months. DeWint, Cotman, Girtin—they're all here. The