He’d heard a proprietorial note in Murphy’s voice that had never been so obvious before, doubtless because he and Robin were now officially engaged, and this had made Strike shorter than he might otherwise have been on the phone. Nevertheless, the call had had its intended effect, which was to remind Strike that he had ethical responsibilities towards Robin, even though she was a partner in the firm and no longer an employee. These musings led him to approach his and Robin’s next conversation with a tact for which Strike knew he wasn’t generally renowned. When a pretext for getting in touch presented itself on Wednesday, he called her from the office.
‘I’ve got news.’
‘Oh good,’ said Robin. ‘I’m so bored, I’m sitting here watching the Budget.’ This wasn’t entirely true. The Chancellor of the Exchequer was indeed addressing Parliament on Robin’s muted television screen, but in reality she’d been looking at an old and amateurish website devoted to supposed sightings of Reata Lindvall, following her alleged murder.
‘Well, firstly: Barclay’s nabbed Two-Times. Photos of him coming out of a hotel with a mini-skirted blonde wearing industrial amounts of make-up.’
‘Great. Have you told Mrs Two-Times?’
‘Yeah, and I think she’s going to absolutely rinse him, so it’ll be a few years before he can afford to indulge his surveillance kink again. But I’ve got even better news than that. Guess who’s agreed to meet me on Friday?’
‘Who?’
‘Funny bloke off the telly. Goes on quiz shows a lot. Pays to have porn stars killed.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘Nope. And it gets better. He wants to buy me dinner at the Goring Hotel.’
‘Why?’
‘Smarm offensive,’ said Strike. ‘His police contacts must’ve told him by now William Wright wasn’t Jason Knowles, so I’d say he’s even more worried we’re messing with the case. I called his office this morning and said I wanted to talk to him about regulation in the detective business, following his comments in the press. “Oh, absolutely, what a top-hole idea.”’
‘He never said “top hole”.’
‘He did. Also “spiffing”.’
‘You’re making this up.’
‘You wait,’ said Strike. ‘I said I wanted to bring my detective partner. He said he’d be delighted.’
‘Fantastic, I need to get out of this bloody flat,’ said Robin fervently, which was precisely the reaction Strike had been hoping for. ‘The Goring… isn’t that where royalty always stays in London?’
‘I think we’re supposed to be immensely impressed.’
‘Why’s he trying to butter us up?’
‘I’d imagine he’s keen to present as a man who has absolutely nothing personal against us, just a professional interest in regulating the industry. I expect he’s also hoping we tell him everything we know about bodies in silver vaults while we’re eating our lobster thermidor.’
‘I don’t like lobster.’
‘Then order it and leave it untouched. He’s paying,’ said Strike, and Robin laughed. ‘You and I should meet early, in the bar, get our strategy clear.’
‘Great,’ said Robin. ‘What are you up to at the moment?’
‘Back on the dark net.’
‘Doing what?’
Strike doubted she was in a fit psychological state to hear he’d been watching Daesh execution videos again, so he chose to tell the most palatable part of the truth.
‘It took me the best part of twelve hours, but I think I’ve found Rena Liddell asking for advice on how to get a gun, online. She was calling herself “Mirbat” there, too. I thought I might find her somewhere. If she was going to ask me, a complete stranger, for a gun, why not throw it open to the internet? Anyway, she made glancing contact with a bloke who said he might be able to help and she blithely gave him her mobile number. I’ve got a feeling he wasn’t who he said he was. I think he was there to entrap her.’
‘Why?’
‘The punctuation and spelling were too good and they were asking artful questions. They’ll have been disappointed with what they got out of her, because when offered the chance to lay hands on a weapon she started asking whether killing people wasn’t wrong, after all. I can’t see that they’re going to have grounds to keep her forcibly in a psychiatric facility for long. I’ve left a message on the mobile.’
‘Are you sure pursuing her’s—?’
‘Wise? Will it annoy MI5? Will Ralph Lawrence be pissed off I haven’t run for the hills because he told me to?’
‘Yes to all of the above,’ said Robin.
‘He made me climb up onto the fucking roof of that pub to prove a point. I’m not breaking any laws, calling a phone number.’
‘I know, but—’
‘He wears Aviator shades. Case closed.’
Against her better judgement, Robin laughed again.
‘Anything new your end?’ asked Strike.
‘Not much,’ said Robin, taking a deep breath because she wanted to sound casual and offhand when saying the next thing. ‘The guy who jumped me in Beaconsfield has been let out on bail.’
‘Shit,’ said Strike.
He’d known it would happen, but deplored the fact that it had. Strike considered that certain kinds of criminals were treated far too leniently by the criminal justice system, a viewpoint shaped in adolescence by the sight of his stepfather repeatedly committing violence, then being released on bail conditions he ignored.
‘Have they told you anything new about him?’ Strike asked.
‘Not much,’ said Robin. ‘They still seem to think he attacked me at random, even though I told them about the other times I’d seen him—’
‘“Times”, plural?’ said Strike sharply.
‘Please don’t start,’ said Robin, ‘but I – I saw him on Saturday, outside my flat.’
With immense difficulty, Strike prevented himself ‘starting’ by remembering that he’d been a dick to Robin on Saturday, which had presumably disinclined her to call him back and mention Green Jacket being on the prowl.
‘So he knows where you live?’
‘Yes,’ said Robin. ‘You know that rubber gorilla, and the masonic dagger he threw at me?’
‘Yeah, strangely enough, both stuck in my mind.’
‘I’ve got them both wrapped up in freezer bags at home. I told the police about them, but nobody’s come round for them yet. They seem to be leaning towards the fact that he’s an opportunist or a stalker, as opposed to someone trying to stop me investigating. They weren’t very interested in me saying a man with the same jacket had been outside my flat on Saturday.’
‘Can’t Murphy make them take this more bloody seriously?’
‘He’s done all he can,’ lied Robin.
‘So that’s all they’ve told you, that he’s out on bail?’
‘And that he lives in a completely different area of London to me. I think they thought that would make me feel safer – though as he definitely knows where I live, it didn’t, really,’ Robin admitted. ‘Anyway, all the usual bail conditions apply: he can’t change address, he’s not allowed to contact me and he’ll be reporting to the police once a week.’
‘Yeah, that’ll stop him,’ said Strike injudiciously, before remembering that that probably wasn’t a very helpful thing to say. ‘What about that older bloke in the Honda Accord? Have you seen him again?’
‘Not since I told you about him.’
‘OK, well, we need to decide how we’re going to deal with this stuff, going forwards.’
‘What d’you mean?’