‘Nothing, but probably only because Martin was there.’
Robin described the previous evening’s happenings and concluded,
‘I don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. I want to end this case, properly.’
‘Did you call the police about King breaking his bail conditions?’ said Strike, exercising maximum control to do as she’d requested, and keep calm.
‘Yes,’ said Robin, ‘and I reminded them I’ve still got two other things he foisted on me, but—’
‘They weren’t interested.’
‘I don’t think it’s lack of interest,’ said Robin. ‘The terrorism threat’s at severe; I can see how a bit of A4 with a gorilla on it isn’t absolutely top priority. Anyway,’ she went on quickly, because she could tell Strike was struggling not to start laying down the law about security and protection, ‘I want to interview Hussein Mohamed.’
‘We’ve been through this. I don’t want you out on the street,’ said Strike, still struggling to keep his temper. ‘And I’d have thought last night proves—’
‘OK, fine,’ said Robin, ‘one of the others can interview Mohamed; I don’t care, I just want it done.’
‘Why?’
She took a deep breath.
‘All right, you might think this is crazy, but Martin told me last night about this man he knows who put his company logo on the weights in his home gym. He’s a businessman who’s got an obsession with Excalibur and he puts it on everything, apparently.’
‘You think Wright ordered custom weights?’ said Strike, with raised eyebrows.
‘We know Oz and Medina went back to Wright’s flat in the early hours for something even Oz could barely carry, right? You were the one who said it was probably the weights. Well, what if they had something on them, some personal – I don’t know, a motif, a personal slogan—?’
‘Custom weights would be a bloody extravagant purchase for a bloke who only had enough money to live in that shithole,’ said Strike.
‘I know,’ said Robin, ‘but they needn’t have been custom-made, exactly, they could have had – I don’t know, stickers on them, or something. Stickers Medina couldn’t scrape off, and even if she’d managed to do it, the traces might have pointed to something the killer wanted to hide, something that would have identified Wright. Or else the weights were a brand, or a colour, or something, that might have pointed to who Wright was. We know Mandy and Daz never went inside Wright’s room, but Mohamed might have done. I know it’s a really long shot, but Strike, I think we’re a long way ahead of the police. We’ve taken the possibility Wright wasn’t Knowles seriously much longer than they have. I just feel as though—’
There was a knock on the door and Pat entered, looking grumpy.
‘That was Plug’s uncle. He wants you to pretend the boy wasn’t there. Says it’s not his fault, his dad made him.’
‘Fuck’s sake,’ exploded Strike, ‘we’ve already given statements to the police. What next? Does he want Shah to pretend he stabbed himself in the leg?’
‘That’s a “no”, then,’ said Pat, scowling, and she closed the door again.
Strike now lowered his voice.
‘Was she banging on about that bloody fish when you arrived?’
‘Travolta?’
‘What?’
‘It’s what she called it. I’ve just found out.’
‘The fuck’s she naming them for?’
‘People do that, with pets,’ said Robin, amused.
‘I knew it was going to be like this,’ said Strike in exasperation. ‘The look she gave me when I told her it had died, you’d think I’d fucking eaten it… where were we?’
‘Mohamed,’ said Robin. ‘Plus, I got this, late last night, from Chloe Griffiths. Look…’
She handed him her phone and Strike read:
Hi Chloe, this is Robin Ellacott. I’m sorry to contact you again, but I’ve got a few more questions and I think you’re the only person who can answer them. I do understand how difficult this is for you, and I wouldn’t disturb you again if I didn’t think it was important.
What questions?
I’ve spoken to Hugo’s father and he mentioned a big argument you had with Tyler and Anne-Marie about a bracelet.
So?
I’m just a bit confused about your and Tyler’s relationship.
Haven’t you got FUCKING EYES? Does that look like Tyler on my fucking Instagram?
I wasn’t suggesting Tyler’s interrailing with you.
To this, Chloe had made no reply.
‘Bit aggressive,’ said Strike, handing Robin’s phone back.
‘It is, isn’t it? I know she might just not want to be bothered with it—’
‘I don’t want to be fucking bothered with it,’ said Strike, running a hand over his unshaven face, ‘but Rena Liddell called me at seven o’clock this morning. She’s been discharged from hospital and claims she’s fine now she’s back on her clonazepam, though it hasn’t done much for her paranoia, being sectioned. She wants to meet me, but she’s scared “they’re listening in”. We’re going to meet at the Engineer in Camden, where she and Semple had a drink before he disappeared. Ralph Lawrence turning up again is a risk we’ll have to take.’
As Strike hadn’t shouted about Wade King, Robin thought she ought to exercise similar restraint, so rather than query the advisability of further antagonising MI5 she said,
‘So Rena’s the reason you want to keep investigating?’
‘No, I’d decided to carry on before she called. I came in here after I got back from the whole stabbing-and-hospital clusterfuck and I had… maybe not a revelation, but an idea, about the Gibsons delivery and the Oriental Centrepiece, and the more I think about it, the more I think I might be on to something. Blame Tom Waits.’
‘The singer?’ said Robin, confused.
‘Yeah. Listen to this.’
Strike pressed a button on his keyboard, and a tinkling piano began playing.
‘Wait for the chorus,’ said Strike.
‘I… don’t understand,’ said Robin.
‘Come round here,’ said Strike, beckoning her to his side of the desk, and he smelled her perfume again as she moved to look at the frozen footage from Ramsays’ internal camera on Strike’s monitor. While Tom Waits continued to sing, Strike pressed play.
Larry McGee entered the shop, dumped the crates, and left.
Wright took the first crate down to the basement.
The young blonde arrived and engaged Pamela’s attention.
Wright took the second crate down to the vault.
He took the third crate downstairs.
Todd entered the shop and helped Wright lift the largest crate downstairs.
Wright returned to the shop floor.
Todd was still in the basement. He remained there for nearly twenty minutes.
Todd reappeared.
The blonde left.
Pamela descended alone to the vault.
Pamela returned to the shop floor, holding items she then placed in a bag.
Wright left, carrying the bag.
Pamela received her text.
Pamela told Todd to stay.
Pamela received a call. She pointed Todd towards the door. He left the shop.
Wright and Todd returned, staggering under the weight of another large crate.