‘What does that mean?’
‘Covert ops, which explains why there were no details given in the press on how he got his brain injury. He was doing something the British public and the enemy aren’t supposed to know about. Also explains his beard. Special Forces are the only ones who’re allowed them. But I’m not worried about Lawrence.’
‘You aren’t?’
‘I think, if he genuinely had evidence Semple wasn’t the body in the vault, he’d have shared it. In the absence of proof, we’re well within our rights to keep investigating.’
Robin said nothing, although she was once again imagining Murphy’s expression, if he could hear what Strike was saying.
‘Anyway,’ Strike continued, ‘I’ve sent another message to Semple’s wife, and I’m hoping to hear back from my SIB mate Hardy, who I’ve asked to dig out some intel on Semple for me. But that’s not the only thing I had to tell you…’
Strike now described the note that had been pushed through the agency’s door. When he’d finished, Robin said,
‘What the hell?’
‘Yeah,’ said Strike, ‘and I think I know who posted it. There was a woman standing at the end of the road when I left the office yesterday, and she didn’t want me to see her face. Didn’t think much of it at the time, but I think she was heading for our door to poke the note through the letterbox when she saw me coming out. When I passed her she was trying to look like she was just waiting for someone, but it’s an odd meeting place, a freezing cold corner in a street full of pubs and kebab shops.’
‘Say the name again?’
‘Dangerous Dick de Lion.’
‘He sounds like—’
‘A porn star?’
‘I was going to say, a cartoon character.’
‘He’s a porn star.’
‘Wh—?’
‘I’ve looked him up. He’s a bona fide adult actor, and from the looks of the woman lurking in the street, she’s in the industry too. What’s more, if Dangerous Dick had any social media accounts, he’s deleted them all. Obviously that might mean a fresh start away from the porn industry – but it might not.’
Not entirely to Strike’s surprise, ten seconds of stunned silence from Robin ensued.
‘The note said “had him killed”?’
‘Yeah.’
‘By someone on TV?’
‘So it seems.’
‘But wouldn’t that—?’
‘Tie in with Shanker’s story, about a bigshot with people to do his bidding? It would, yeah,’
‘And how does she know we’re investigating the body?’
‘That, to me, is far more interesting than the dimensions of Dangerous Dick de Lion, which you can look up for yourself if you’re interested.’
‘And why write a note? She could have just emailed us anonymously.’
‘Maybe she doesn’t want to leave a cyber footprint. She might think we employ computer whizz-kids who can track her down. The note looked like she’d tried to make sure her handwriting wouldn’t be identifiable, which might explain the cipher, although another name for pigpen cipher is the masonic cipher.’
‘You’re kidding,’ said Robin, with a glance at Murphy, who still had his back to her.
‘I don’t know whether this is all bullshit or not,’ said Strike, ‘but going forwards, we take precautions. I want to know where you are at all times, and if it’s a question of going to a badly lit or sparsely populated location, you don’t go alone.’
‘And am I going to know where you are at all times?’ asked Robin.
‘If you want,’ said Strike.
‘But that’s less important?’
‘I’m not looking to get hacked to death and dressed in a masonic sash, but I respectfully suggest they’d find it harder to do that to me than to you. What’s your news?’
‘What?’ said Robin. ‘Oh, yes – a few things. Tyler Powell’s grandmother just called me back. She’s been in hospital. She’d be happy to speak to me, if I come to Ironbridge.’
‘Excellent,’ said Strike. ‘We might be able to pick Dilys and Semple’s wife off in a single round trip.’
‘OK, great,’ said Robin.
‘And the other things?’
‘Midge and Tasha have split up.’
‘Ah,’ said Strike. ‘I thought there was something going on. She looked like she was crying when I saw her at the office yesterday.’
‘Right, so try—’
‘Not to be a bastard?’
‘I was going to say “try and cut her a bit of slack”, but not being a bastard works, too.’
‘Fair enough. Anything else?’
‘Well, this might not help,’ said Robin, ‘but I did a deep dive on Facebook and Instagram last night, looking at the accounts of the real Osgood and Oz, and there’s a girl—’
Murphy had turned back, and was now walking towards Robin.
‘Strike, I’ll have to go,’ said Robin hastily. ‘I’ll tell you the rest later, but this is all getting—’
‘Yeah,’ said Strike. ‘It is.’
28
I’ve my taste of truth,
Likewise my touch of falsehood…
At a quarter to two on Monday afternoon, Strike headed out for Holborn to interview Jim Todd, the Ramsay Silver cleaner. Having a pretext to call Robin, he did so, because maximising contact with her fell into the categories of both playing to his strengths and not letting Ryan Murphy change his game plan.
‘Hi,’ said Robin, answering on the second ring. ‘I’ve just found out why we can never get Rupert’s friend Albie at Dino’s. He hasn’t worked there for five months.’
‘Couldn’t they just have bloody told us that?’ said Strike. Robin was also walking somewhere with heavy traffic, and he had his free forefinger in his opposite ear, so as to be able to hear her.
‘No, because according to the waitress I just waylaid in the street, they aren’t allowed to give out information about staff over the phone. She says Albie’s gone to work at Harrods, so that’s where I’m heading. Where are you?’
‘Nearly at Leather Lane.’
‘Mucky Ricci’s old place,’ said Robin, referring to an old gangster who’d been a suspect in a previous case.
‘Exactly.’
‘Any particular reason for calling, or just checking the masons haven’t done me in yet?’
‘Yeah, I’ve just heard back from my SIB mate, Hardacre. Semple was definitely SAS and was invalided out in 2015 following a traumatic brain injury that left him in a medically induced coma for three months. No details available, even to the Military Police, which makes me think he was definitely E Squadron.’
‘So Lawrence must be MI5?’
‘I think we have to accept that as a working assumption,’ said Strike. ‘To change the subject completely: what were you going to tell me on Saturday, about Osgood’s Facebook page?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Robin, who in her current state of sleep deprivation had forgotten she hadn’t passed this information on, though she’d put it in the file. ‘Well, the same girl – she’s called Sapphire – appears in the comments on both the real Osgood’s Facebook page, and fake Oz’s Instagram page. I did some digging and I think I’ve found her. Her name’s Sapphire Neagle and here’s the thing: she’s on a missing persons’ website. She stopped posting to social media in November and hasn’t been seen since. I know that might be coincidence, but—’
‘Known online contact with a man who definitely isn’t who he says he is, is suggestive,’ said Strike.