“We’d never been out in it. She drove all the way to Horsham. There, she parked and bought herself a soft drink and a sandwich and sat for a while in a park. I was beginning to think I’d made a mistake and she was simply enjoying a day on her own. Then suddenly she returned to her car and drove south of the town until she came to a house near the river. It was fairly secluded, so I had to park some distance off or I’d have been far too obvious. I didn’t actually see her go in, but her Lotus was parked outside. I watched and waited, not liking myself at all, but committed to finding out if she was visiting this other man. She could have been seeing her mother, or someone else in the family. The whole afternoon went by before they appeared. It was around six thirty when she came out.”
“Alone?”
“No, he was with her, a tall bloke, dark, in a suit, hair brushed back. He opened the garage and backed out his car, a red Renault, I think. She got in and they drove off, leaving her car on the drive.”
“Confirming your worst fears?”
“Absolutely.”
“So what did you do?”
“This is going to sound daft. I didn’t follow them. I guessed they were off for a meal somewhere, and I couldn’t get back to my own car in time, so I waited for them to come back. I knew there was a man now, and I had to find out if she would spend the night with him.”
Hen said, “Wasn’t that torturing yourself?”
“It would have been worse not to have known. In my mind I was making up all kinds of scenarios to explain away this bloke.”
“But she’d told you she had another man.”
“And I wasn’t willing to believe her. I still thought I had a chance.”
“So did they return that evening?” Diamond asked.
“About ten. And she went into the house with him and didn’t come out again. I know because I slept in my own car that night. That’s how single-minded I was.” He paused, looking shamefaced.
Diamond didn’t press him and neither did Hen. The man couldn’t have been more candid, and every detail chimed in with information they already had. This was beginning to have the force of a confession.
“But I had a surprise next morning,” he resumed, “because the man left his house alone, dressed in his suit again, and drove off in his car. Hers was still outside. She came out half an hour later and drove away.”
“This was the Sunday-the day she died?”
“Yes. I got in my car and followed. She headed south and eventually ended up in Wightview Sands.”
“It must have been obvious you were behind her.”
“I don’t know. She didn’t attempt to lose me, or anything. I kept some distance back, often with another car between us. She may have noticed the car, but I was never close enough for her to recognise me.”
Hen commented to Diamond, “Some drivers don’t check their mirror that often.”
“And when we got closer to the beach, and everything slowed down, I made sure I was at least two cars behind,” Bellman added. “As it happened, that almost threw me. There was a barrier system at the beach car park. You paid a chap in a kiosk. He was chatting to Emma and then she went through and drove off. All I could do was sit in the queue and watch her car disappear into the distance. It’s a very large car park.”
“Large beach,” Diamond said.
“You’re telling me. By the time I’d got up to the barrier and exchanged some words with this chatty car park man, I was resigned to having to walk along the beach looking for her.”
Hen said to Diamond, “I know the car park guy who was on duty. Bit of a character. Wants a word with everyone.”
Diamond knew him, too, but wasn’t being diverted. “What did you intend when you found her?”
“By this time, I’d decided to try and talk her round.”
“Even after you knew she’d spent the night with someone else?” Hen said in disbelief.
“He’d walked out on her,” he explained. “If there was any sort of romance between them, he wouldn’t have allowed her to spend the day by herself on the beach.”
“He could have had a job to go to,” Diamond said, finding himself in the unlikely role of Jimmy Barneston’s spokesman.
“On a Sunday?”
“Some of us work Sundays.”
Hen said without catching Diamond’s eye, “I’m with Ken on this. Any boyfriend worthy of the name would take the day off. So what did you do, my love? Park your car and go looking for her?”
“Yes. I knew she wasn’t at the end closest to the barrier, so I drove halfway along, parked, and had a look at the beach, which was really crowded. All I could do was walk along the top looking for her. Fortunately she had this reddish hair which I thought would be easy to spot. So I set off slowly along the promenade bit above the beach, stopping at intervals to look for her. After about an hour of this, I had no success at all. It was really frustrating. I changed my mind and went through the car park looking for the car, figuring that she ought to be in one of the sections of beach closest to where she’d parked. I found the Lotus fairly quickly. It stood out. So then I put my theory to the test and made a more thorough search of the nearest bits of beach. This time I went right down on the sand, for a better view, and that was how I found her. She was lying down behind a windbreak. I’d never have spotted her from the top.”
“This was near the lifeguard post?”
“Yes.”
“Was she surprised?”
“Very.”
“How did you explain that you were there?”
“Coincidence. I wasn’t going to admit I’d been following her for twenty-four hours. It would have seemed weird.”
Neither Hen nor Diamond chose to pursue this insight.
“If I remember right, I made a joke out of it. I was doing my best to put her at her ease. I thought if I could persuade her to let me sit with her on the beach, we could talk through our problem.”
Diamond said, “What do you remember about her appearance?”
“She was sunbathing, in a bikini, lying on a towel.”
“Did she have a bag with her?”
“I expect so. I can’t say for sure. Well, she must have put her car keys somewhere.”
“Sunglasses?”
“Yes.”
“OK, so you chatted to her.”
“I tried. She wasn’t pleased to see me, and she made it very clear she didn’t want me there. I offered to fetch her a drink, or an ice cream or something. Basically, she told me to piss off.”
“Bit of a blow.”
“Well, yes. I was upset.”
“Angry?”
His face tightened and he gave Diamond a defiant look. “Not at all. I was unhappy, yes, but I couldn’t blame her. I’d hurt her more than I realised when I called her those names. Give her time, I thought, and she may yet come round. So I walked off, just as she asked.”
“Are you sure about this? Sure you’re not putting a different slant on the conversation?”
He looked up in surprise. “Why should I?”
“Because a witness heard you swear at her. You were heard to say something like, ‘Suit yourself, then. I’ll leave you to it. Oh, what the fuck?’”
He frowned. “Someone was listening?”
“We have a witness statement.”
After some hesitation, Bellman said, “If that’s what I said-and it may be true-it doesn’t mean I swore at her. I was disappointed. You say something like that when you’re pissed off.”
“Then what?”
“I got myself something to eat at the beach café and returned to the car and drove back here to Bath.”
The point at which his version differed from the expected one. He’d been so truthful up to now.
“Are you certain you didn’t return to Emma at some point in the afternoon?”
He flushed deeply. “No way. If this witness of yours told you that, they’re lying.”
“And what were you wearing that day?” Diamond moved on smoothly.
&nb
sp; “Oh, God, how would I know?” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Probably a T-shirt and jeans.”
“What colour?”
“The T-shirt? Black, I expect. Most of my T-shirts are black.”
“You were saying you drove straight back?”
“Yes.”
“Any idea what time this was?”
“Early afternoon, I suppose.”
“Try to be precise, Ken.”
“I can’t say better than that, except I was home by four.”
“Can you prove this? Did you see anyone in Bath?”
“I told you I drove straight home. It was really warm on the road. I remember taking a shower when I got in. Then I crashed out for a few hours. I was short of sleep.”
“Did you stop for fuel on the way home?” Hen asked. “Your tank must have been well down after so much driving.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“The receipt. They usually show the time you paid. And the place, of course.”
His tone softened. He’d realised she was being helpful. “Right. I follow you. I’m trying to think. I may have stopped for petrol, but I can’t think where.”
“Which way did you come? Through Salisbury on the A36?”
“Yes, that was the route.”
“There are plenty of garages along there.”
“I keep the receipts in my car. I can check.”
“If you can find one that places you somewhere on the road to Bath that afternoon, it will save us all a lot of trouble.”
“OK.”
“But you don’t remember stopping at a garage?” Diamond said. “I would, if it was important.”
“You’ve got to understand I had other things on my mind.”
Diamond’s frustration began to show. “And you’ve got to understand we’re investigating a murder, Mr Bellman. You were on that beach. By your own admission you’d been following Emma Tysoe for twenty-four hours or more. You confirmed your worst suspicion that she spent the night with another man. You trailed her all the way to Wightview Sands. You spent over an hour wandering the beach in search of her. When you found her and tried to engage her in conversation, she rejected you again. You were angry. In your own words, you were pissed off. And some time the same afternoon, she was strangled. Is it any wonder we’re interested in you?”
Troubled, he raked his hand through his curls. “You’ve got me all wrong. I’m cooperating, aren’t I?”
“I hope so. You didn’t come forward when we first appealed for information. It’s been in all the papers and on TV.”
“In my position, would you have come forward?” he appealed to them. “I didn’t want all this hassle and being under suspicion. I was hoping you’d find the killer without involving me.”
“Any suggestions?”
“What-about her murderer? That’s your job, not mine.”
“You were closer to her than anyone else.”
“You should speak to the guy she spent the night with. I can take you to the house if you like.”
“We’ve spoken to him.”
His eyes widened. He spread his hands. “Then you know what I told you is true.”
“We’ve got your slant on what happened,” Diamond said. “Yes, your account of your movements fits most of the facts. What I find unconvincing is what you say about your intentions. She dumped you after you’d taken her out for a special meal. You had every right to be angry. You tried calling and still she wouldn’t see you. For most men, that would be enough. They’d swallow their pride and get on with their lives. You didn’t. You stalked her.”
“That’s not right,” he blurted out.
“It is by any normal understanding of the word. You followed her in your car. You spent a whole night waiting outside the house where she was in bed with another man. If that isn’t stalking, I don’t know what is.”
“I told you I wanted her back.”
“You were angry and jealous. You decided to kill her at the first opportunity.”
“No.”
“You followed her to the beach, just as you said, and tracked her down. She was lying on the sand, maybe face down, so you spoke to her, just to be sure you’d got the right woman. It was Emma, and you made out it was pure chance that you’d spotted her.” He said slowly, spacing the words, “‘Of all the gin-joints in all the towns in all the world.’”
Bellman jerked as if he’d touched a live cable. “You know I said that?”
“I told you there was a witness. You masked your anger. You didn’t let on that you’d stalked her. But this wasn’t a suitable moment to kill. Too many people were about. They could see you in your black T-shirt talking to her. You went away-but not far. You waited for an opportunity, a time when the people around her left the beach or went for a swim. This is probably the time when you went looking for something to use as a ligature, something like a strap or piece of plastic tape or a bootlace. You may have found it lying along the pebbles where the tide throws up everything in its path.”
“This just isn’t true,” Bellman said, white-faced.
“This time you crept up from behind. She was probably asleep. You slipped the ligature under her head and crossed it behind her neck and tightened.”
He slumped forward, his hands over his ears. “No, no. Will you stop?”
Unmoved, Diamond said with a sharp note of accusation, “Will you tell us the truth?”
19
Can we speak outside?” Hen said to Diamond.
“Now?” So close to a result, he could think of no reason “ to stop. Surely Hen, of all people, wanted to nail this one?
“Yes, now.”
He was incensed by her interference at this critical stage. If she’d been one of his own team, he’d have brushed her aside. He listened, but only because she’d won his respect in all their dealings up to now. They left Ken Bellman, looking dazed, in the interview room in the care of a uniformed officer.
Out in the corridor, Diamond felt and showed all the symptoms of a dangerous surge of blood pressure.
Hen said, “I have to say, Peter, I’m not happy where this interview is leading. Are you trying to break him, or what?”
“You’re not happy?” he said, shooting her a savage look. “Hen, this is a police station, not the citizens’ advice bureau. He’s a weirdo. He stalked the victim for twenty-four hours before she was strangled.”
“He’s been open with us.”
“He’s had an easy ride.”
“That was easy, was it? You accused him of the crime.”
“At some point, you do. This was the right point.”
She said, “I wouldn’t mind if he was being obstructive. He was talking freely in there. His story fitted the facts.”
“Up to when he met her on the beach and was given his marching orders. Then it departs from what we know to be true.”
“Such as?”
“He said he couldn’t blame her for telling him to move on-as if they shook hands and wished each other good luck. I had to remind him he said ‘What the fuck!’ as he walked away.”
“He’s not going to have perfect recall of every phrase he used.”
“He was angry, Hen. Didn’t blame her? Of course he blamed her. He wasn’t going to admit to us that he was in a strop. Fortunately Olga Smith overheard what was said. According to Bellman’s version, he went tamely across to the café for a sandwich and then drove back to Bath. The man had stalked her since the morning of the day before. Do you really believe he gave up and went home?”
“I honestly don’t know,” she admitted, swayed a little. “But I think we should give him the chance to prove it before you roast him alive.”
“What-challenge him to produce a petrol receipt?”
“If he can, yes. If he can’t, let’s have another go at him.”
“I could crack him now.”
“I’m certain you could. He’s brittle. They’re the ones you treat with caution, Peter. They confes
s to anything. Only later, when you’re writing it up for the CPS, or being cross-examined by some tricky lawyer, do you discover the flaws. Let’s soft-pedal now.”
Diamond didn’t want to soft-pedal. This was the first real difference of opinion with Hen. “What if he does a runner?”
“We’ll catch up with him. He isn’t a danger to the public. This was a crime of passion if it was anything.”
He shook his head and vibrated his lips. “I’m not happy with this.”
She said, “I want a result as much as you. I’ve had a two-hour drive this morning and I’ll have to come back for another go, but it’s worth it to get everything buttoned up-properly.”
There was a silence as heavy as cement. “I can only agree to this if we take him home now and ask him to produce the petrol receipt.”
“And if he can’t?”
He shrugged. “We’ll do it my way.”
They used Diamond’s car, driving directly to the garage Ken Bellman rented on Bathwick Hill. Little more was said until he unlocked the up-and-over door and opened the car to look inside. His BMW, as he’d stated, had certainly seen better days. “It passed the test,” he said, as if they might be interested.
“Where are those receipts?” Hen asked.
“I slot everything down the pocket in the door.” He scooped out a handful of scraps of paper. As well as receipts there were parking tickets with peel-off adhesive backing. Everything had stuck together. He handed a sticky bundle to Hen. Then he delved down and brought out another.
Hen started separating the petrol receipts and putting them in date order, arranging them in rows along the bonnet of the car. She pretty soon decided there were too many to be so methodical. They went back at least eighteen months. The date of the murder was June the twenty-seventh.
“Give me some,” Diamond offered.
Bellman was still retrieving fading, dog-eared slips from the depths of the car door. He made a point of handing them only to Hen. She passed a batch to Diamond. Expecting nothing, he went through them steadily and found nothing. He shook his head. Hen finished checking hers. She sighed.
“It’s not looking good, Ken,” Diamond commented, as much for Hen’s ears as Bellman’s.
Bellman said, “I’m not a hundred per cent sure I stopped for petrol on the way back.” He ran his hand down the pocket one more time and came up with nothing.
The House Sitter Page 26
