‘Is there any point trying to ferret out Inigo Upcott’s ex-mistress?’
‘We can give it a go, but I can’t see a middle-aged woman as Anomie either.’
‘Then we go back to Pez and Ashcroft, don’t we?’ said Robin. ‘They’re the only two we haven’t ruled out. I bet Ashcroft knows Latin. He had that kind of schooling.’
‘True, but what would he get out of creating the game that he couldn’t get far better from being the Pen of Justice? The game’s a lousy vehicle for grooming little girls – Rule 14. If you can’t give personal details, how’s he going to find out whether they’re in the right age group?
‘That rule’s so strange… what did Anomie and Morehouse want to achieve with it?’
‘Christ knows, but I note Hartella thinks Anomie knows the real identity of all the moderators. It’s one rule, literally, for Anomie, and another for everyone else. Anomie’s got all the power.’
There was another silence, in which Strike, who’d already finished his whisky, poured himself another.
‘I keep going back to North Grove,’ said Robin. ‘I still think North Grove’s the… the hub of all this. I’m certain Anomie’s at North Grove, or has been there. The quotation on the window. That stolen drawing of Josh’s—’
‘That could’ve been nicked by anyone.’
‘But the vampire’s in the game,’ said Robin, turning to look at Strike. ‘It’s not in the cartoon, but it’s in the game. Anomie and Morehouse thought they were getting out in front of Josh and Edie, putting the vampire in, but it never ended up in the cartoon.’
‘That,’ said Strike, to whom this hadn’t occurred, ‘is an excellent bit of reasoning, and it takes us straight back to Pez Pierce, doesn’t it?’
‘And on paper he looks good, I know he does,’ said Robin. ‘He’s definitely got the skill set, he had a grudge against Edie… but Anomie just doesn’t sound like him. The Latin. The… the obsessiveness, the vitriol… I’m not saying Pez didn’t have complicated feelings for Edie, he definitely did, but… He wore yellow to her funeral because it was her favourite colour… If he’s acting, it’s a better act than I’ve ever seen… D’you mind?’ she added, her eyes on the whisky.
‘Have as much as you want,’ said Strike, handing her the bottle.
He smelled her shampoo again as her hair swung forwards and though trying to keep his eyes on her face, he noticed her breasts move beneath the thin T-shirt material of her pyjama top.
There was another pause, during which Robin poured herself a large measure of whisky, set the bottle down on the floor and said,
‘Evola… I am Evola… you don’t think that’s a weird coincidence too?’
‘What?’ said Strike, who was mainly trying not to think about Robin’s breasts.
‘That there’s a troll hanging around the Ink Black Heart fandom, using the name Evola, when he’s one of Nils’s favourite—?’
Robin gave a sudden gasp.
‘He’s in the North Grove bathroom.’
‘Who is?’ said Strike, confused.
‘Evola! I’m sure I saw one of his books in the bookcase! Nils told me it was a little lending library, to borrow whatever I wanted – it had a yellow spine – wait…’
She snatched up her iPad again and for a minute or so was silent. Then she said,
‘Ride the Tiger by Julius Evola. That book’s in the North Grove bathroom.’
‘Are you suggesting I am Evola and Anomie are the same person?’
‘I… no…’ said Robin uncertainly. ‘It’s just strange…’
‘Because I think this one really could be a coincidence. We know The Ink Black Heart attracted a load of neo-Nazis and alt-right types. Evola’s their kind of writer.’
‘True,’ sighed Robin. ‘God, I wish all the misogynists and fascists would clear out of the way.’
‘Me too, but I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon. They’re having too much fun.’
‘So what happened with Jago Ross?’
‘Oh,’ said Strike, who’d forgotten that he hadn’t yet told her. ‘Well, it was pretty short and sweet…’
He told the story of what had happened in Kensington while drinking his third large whisky.
‘… so his first wife is going to apply for sole custody.’
‘I’m glad,’ said Robin fervently. ‘Oh, I’m really glad, I thought you were just going to hold the threat of the videos over him… those poor kids… but their mother must’ve known? The girls surely told her what was going on?’
‘Probably likes the alimony,’ said Strike cynically. ‘Easier not to rock the boat, isn’t it? Maybe she told herself the girls were exaggerating. Mind you, her kid coming home with a broken leg must’ve been a shock, and then seeing how it actually happened, on camera… Bottom line, I’d imagine a nice quiet accommodation will be reached, because Ross isn’t going to want that footage shown in court. It’s not like he gives a shit about his daughters. He seems fixated on the son and heir.’
‘But if you’ve sent Charlotte the videos as well—’
Strike drained his third glass of whisky.
‘She doesn’t seem interested in sole custody. It’d hamper her social life.’
Robin had never heard him talk in that tone about Charlotte before.
‘I’d better let you get to bed,’ said Strike unexpectedly. He heaved himself to his feet, then picked up his whisky and his bag of beer. ‘Night.’
Robin was left staring at the door, wondering why Strike had left so suddenly. Had memories of Charlotte overwhelmed him? Sixteen years of pain, he’d said in Cambridge, but there must have been pleasure too, to keep drawing him back over and over again.
Well, that’s Madeline’s problem, not yours, Robin told herself. She finished her whisky and headed back into the bathroom to clean her teeth.
In fact, the reason Strike had left so precipitately was because, after nearly half a bottle of Macallan on an empty stomach, he’d thought it best to remove himself from Robin’s vicinity. Bare-faced, sweet-smelling and conspicuously clean in her pyjamas and robe, talking intelligently about the case and expressing compassion for children she’d never met, she couldn’t have presented a greater contrast to Charlotte. Strike feared loss of control – not some clumsy physical overture, although much more Macallan and even that might have been a risk – but a caving-in to the temptation of talking too personally, of saying too much, while the two of them were sitting on the same bed, in an invitingly anonymous hotel room.
It was quite enough that their office was currently in ruins and the Anomie case virtually impenetrable: he didn’t need to screw up the only relationship that was currently keeping him sane.
89
The mighty are brought low by many a thing
Too small to name…
Strike took it upon himself to call each of the subcontractors next morning, to tell them the agency had lost its access to Drek’s Game. As he’d expected, each responded with a single expletive, which he was glad Robin hadn’t heard. Strike then told Barclay and Dev that they should continue to watch Pierce and Ashcroft respectively.