Free Bloodhounds by Peter Lovesey Page A

in."
    "Muscle in?" Diamond blandly echoed. "You know me better than that. I'm far too busy talking to bank clerks."
    The grin faded as the week progressed. The bank clerks failed to revive it. Every one of them had a tale to tell of meanness, injustices, and slights inflicted by the former manager. If only the chief clerk, Routledge, hadn't confessed, the liturgy of complaints might have been worth listening to, because the bank was chockfull of potential suspects, and a number of customers with grudges would have come into the reckoning as well. Dispiriting for a keen detective, there was no question that Routledge had fired the fatal shot. Forensic confirmed his statement. By Friday, Diamond was so bored with the business that he told Julie Hargreaves to finish up at Saltford without him. He spent the day in the office attacking the stack of paper that was spilling off his intray and across the desk.
    Late in the morning he took a phone call from Dorchester. John Croxley was formerly one of the murder squad at Bath, a pushy young inspector with an ego like a hotair balloon. His naked ambition had grated on the nerves of everyone. He had transferred to Dorset CID in the period Diamond was away, a sideways move that had been greeted with relief in Avon and Somerset.
    "Thought I'd give you a call, Mr. Diamond." The voice made a show of sounding casual. "I heard you were back. This isn't a busy moment, I hope?"
    "Rushed off my feet—but carry on."
    "Are you handling the Penny Black case, then?"
    "Not at this minute. I'm on the phone to you, aren't I? Must keep it short, I'm afraid. How are things down there in Dorset? Statistics perking up no end since you arrived, I bet."
    "To be perfectly honest, it's not entirely what I expected," Croxley confided. "I hadn't appreciated how much more rural this county is than Avon and Somerset."
    "More what?"
    "Rural. You know, countrified."
    "You mean sheep-shagging?"
    There was a pause. "I don't know about that. I'm not getting much work in the field of murder."
    Diamond chuckled and said insensitively, "Plenty in the field of turnips, however."
    "Not so much turnips as cattle, Mr. Diamond," Croxley said with total seriousness. His sense of humor had never blossomed. "My main job just now is noseprints."
    "Is what?"
    "Noseprints. It isn't widely known that every bovine noseprint is unique to the individual, like a fingerprint. You coat the animal's nose with printing ink and then press a sheet of paper against it."
    "You wouldn't be having me on, John?"
    "I wouldn't do that, Mr. Diamond. It's a scheme we've set up with the Dorset County Landowners' Association to combat the rustling of cattle. We've processed seven hundred cows already."
    Diamond was containing himself with difficulty. "You get noseprints from cows? Go on, John."
    "Well, that's all there is to it. They've recently put me in charge. I don't know why. It isn't as if I was brought up in the country. And I don't see much prospect in it."
    "I don't know," said Diamond, tears of amusement sliding down his cheeks. "Things could be worse."
    "Do you think so?"
    "If it's their noses you deal with, you're out in front, aren't you?"
    "I suppose so."
    "Good thing you're not taking prints from the other end."
    "I hadn't thought of that, Mr. Diamond."
    "Think of it when you're feeling low, John. This is new technology, and you're the man who does it. Get your noseprints on the computer. You can set up—what is it they call it?—a database on all the cows in Dorset. You asked about prospects. You've got unlimited prospects, I would think. Ypu could go on doing this for years."
    "That's what I'm afraid of," said Croxley bleakly. "I was wondering if—with so much interest in the Penny Black business— you might be mounting a major inquiry, recruiting extra detectives."
    "You'd be willing to give up your exciting new job?"
    "If there was half a chance."
    "No chance at all, I'm afraid. You know how it is with budgets as they are. I'd