Page 166 of The Hallmarked Man
‘OK, fine. She had a little trick when she was trying to get Honbold to leave his wife. She’d take used condoms out of the bin and…’
‘She wouldn’t have done that to me,’ said Strike, as his innards crawled with panic. ‘It was Honbold she wanted.’
Again, Ilsa didn’t speak.
‘D’you know something else?’ Strike said.
‘I don’tknowit, they’re just rumours,’ said Ilsa. ‘Lawyers are terrible goss—’
‘What rumours?’
‘OK, there’s this story doing the rounds that Honbold is taking some drug that lowers sperm count, so he thought it was strange that he’d been able to get her pregnant, and then it got back to him about you and her, and he went ballistic and now he’s convinced it’s yours.’
‘When was it born?’ said Strike, trying to remember times and dates, to find the numerical formula that would prove, beyond doubt, that he wasn’t the father.
‘I don’t know exactly – early December?’
This was nowhere near precise enough for Strike. If the baby had been born at term, there was a chance…
‘Iliterallyheard about all this yesterday afternoon when people were whispering about the super-injunction,’ said Ilsa. ‘He must have only just hired this private detective—’
‘Yeah, I think he has,’ said Strike, who was now actually sweating beneath his suit jacket. ‘If you hear anything else—’
‘Yes, of course, I’ll call you,’ said Ilsa. ‘Corm, I – I’m sorry.’
‘You tried to warn me,’ said Strike, which cost him some effort. ‘Listen, can you send me Bijou’s number? I deleted it.’
‘OK.’
‘And can you please not tell Robin about any of this? I’d rather tell her myself.’
‘Of course.’
The call ended, and Strike opened the door to the outer office, where Pat sat typing. Robin was absent.
‘Where—?’
‘Loo,’ said Pat gruffly.
Strike’s phone buzzed. Ilsa had just sent him Bijou’s contact details. He retreated into the inner office, thinking… he couldn’t call her now, not with Robin just about to walk back in. It would have to be later, after lunch with Decima.
Meanwhile, inside the small, dank bathroom on the landing, Robin was washing her hands, thinking that if Strike was going to praise Kim’s undeniably impressive bit of detective work when she emerged, she might not be able to respond with much grace.
‘Everything all right?’ she asked again, when she’d rejoined him.
‘Yeah, Kim just wanted to discuss some personal stuff,’ said Strike, struggling to sound casual.
‘She sees you as the firm’s HR rep, does she?’ said Robin.
‘Christ knows,’ said Strike.
Robin sat down again and said,
‘So: the couple in the Peugeot. You don’t think—?’
‘Oz and Medina?’ said Strike, trying to concentrate (he thought he could count on Kim not telling Robin anything about Bijou – Kim, he was certain, would like nothing better than to think she and Strike had a slightly sordid secret that excluded his partner). ‘Got to be a chance.’
Robin picked up the photograph that showed the footprint in the blood around the corpse’s head.
