Dialogues of the Dead

^3 'The door opened, the assailant came in. It's only two or three paces across the floor, and with the councillor washing his face, the assailant could have been right up behind him before he looked up and saw him in the mirror. Then it would be too late.' 'Might have made no difference anyway,' said Pascoe. 'You see someone come into a public toilet, you don't think, That guy's going to attack me, not unless he's foaming at the mouth and carrying a bloodstained axe. Something the size of that burin, you wouldn't even notice he had it in his hand.' 'Yes, sir,' said Bowler. 'That was something I've been thinking about. A weapon like that directed against the head, from what I recall of anatomy, you'd have to be very expert or very lucky to kill somebody or even incapacitate them with a single blow.' He paused and Dalziel said impatiently, 'Come on, lad, don't arse about like Sir Peter Quimsby, make your point.' 'Well, it might make sense if we assume this was unpremedi tated, I mean, like someone wandered in here who just happened to have a burin in his hand and he saw Steel stooping down and thought, Hello, I think Vll have a stab at him. But our perp didn't just happen to have a burin, he had to steal it. That was risky in itself. I mean, who knows, by the time we interview everybody who was in the gallery, we might find somebody who saw something suspicious around Jude Illingworth's display, not suspicious enough to cry, Stop thief! but something they recall when we start asking questions.' 'Perhaps he didn't steal it as a weapon but for some other reason,' said Pascoe. 'And it just came in handy when he suddenly decided to attack Councillor Steel.' 'Yes, sir, possibly, though on a scale of improbabilities, I'd say ... not that I mean it's not possible, only...' 'Nay, we don't stand on ceremony in murder investigations,' interrupted Dalziel. 'If you think the DCI's talking crap, just spit it out.' 'I wouldn't quite say that...' 'Well, I would. I think you've got the right of it, lad. Chummy made up his mind to stiff old Stuffer, he wanted a weapon and the burin was the best he could come up with in a hurry.' 'Which would mean it was premeditated, but not all that much pre,' said Bowler. 'Something must have happened at the preview to make it necessary to kill the councillor.' 'You mean like someone saw him eating for the first time and got to worrying about kids starving in Ethiopia?' said Dalziel. 'Or maybe it was something he said,' interposed Pascoe, feeling sidelined by this unexpected rapprochement between the Fat Man and Bowler. 'The councillor was a great one for stirring things up, as we know to our cost.' 'Aye, happen it's a good job we're investigating this,' said Dalziel. 'I mean, with Jax the Ripper and Stuffer being shuffled off in quick succession, if you start looking for someone with a motive for shutting them up, I reckon we'd come high up the list.' Pascoe glanced at Bowler, recalling his recent lecture on making illogical connections and said, 'You're not really suggesting there could be a connection with the Wordman here?' 'Wash your mouth out, lad!' exploded Dalziel. 'Yon daft business is the kind of thing that gets CID a bad name. No, with a bit of luck, what we've got here is a good old straightforward killing, and once we've interviewed all the preview guests, we'll have it all tied up, neat and tidy, afore Match of the Day.'

But for once Dalziel's prognostication was wrong. By mid-evening all the guests had been tracked down and interviewed. None of them had noticed anything suspicious in regard to the theft of the burin. Councillor Steel's conversation, though as full as ever of complaint and accusation, did not seem to have broken any new ground. The nearest thing to an altercation was Charley Penn's annoyance at Steel's efforts to shut down his literature group. But, as the novelist pointed out, if you took that as a motive, then everyone employed in the HAL Centre must be suspect as the councillor proposed to make half of them redundant and slash the salaries of the rest. Mary Agnew recalled descending the stairs from the gallery with him, during which short interlude she got a quick-fire summary of her newspaper's major failings. On reaching the mezzanine, he'd said, 'Got to spend a penny,' and turned away, presumably towards the men's toilet. She hadn't noticed anyone else going after him.