Page 201 of The Hallmarked Man
‘How d’you know it wasn’t self-defence?’
‘Well, for a start: the night on the houseboat, she got hammered and grabbed a knife and was waving it around. We all left, but Nick had left his favourite bloody sunglasses there, so he went back. He saw it through the window, she was threatening to stab Corm, or herself, and he disarmed her, and she slipped – we never told Corm Nick had seen it, but ages later Corm told Nick she was accusing him of throwing her across the boat or some such rubbish. If he was so violent, why was he the one constantly walking out with split lips, and why was she always begging him to come back?’
Robin wanted to believe Ilsa, but given recent events, she wasn’t sure she could be certain of anything relating to Cormoran Strike.
‘Look, nine times out of ten women are telling the truth about being beaten,’ said Ilsa, ‘and I should know, I’ve prosecuted enough domestic abuse cases, but Corm’s not an abuser. Robin, he’snot.Listen, I had a really terrible case, five years ago: a woman who was trying to get sole custody of her young daughter…’
Robin heard footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, but the man was fifty yards away. She didn’t like being followed, not after Harrods, and the incident that had left her with an eight-inch scar up her right forearm – not that this man was following her, of course, he was simply walking in the same direction, in the dark. Anyway, this was a residential street: lit windows everywhere, plenty of people to hear her scream…
‘… own history of violence, so the only way she was going to get custody was to paint him as even worse. She said he’d attacked them with broken bottles and used ligatures…’
Was it Robin’s imagination, or was the man behind her speeding up? She looked back again. Yes, he was definitely closer, and one hand seemed to be inside his jacket.
‘… just fell apart on the stand. It couldn’t have happened the way she claimed. Meanwhile, her partner had been seen covered in abrasions and bruises…’
The man behind Robin passed beneath a street light. He was wearing a latex gorilla mask.
‘Ilsa,’ Robin shouted, ‘I’m on Shernhall Street, heading towards Wood Street station and I’m being followed, and I’m about to film him and describe him to you.’
‘Wh—?’
‘If anything happens, call the police!’
He was striding straight for her; Robin raised her phone, as though she was filming him, and said loudly,
‘He’s wearing a gorilla mask, about five nine, dark hair, green jacket, black gloves—’
The man slowed. She could see his eyes glinting behind the small holes in the mask.
‘You need to stop,’ he said in a low voice, advancing on her as she walked backwards. ‘Stop. Just stop.’
From beneath his jacket, he drew a dagger.
‘ILSA,’ said Robin, now screaming, ‘HE’S GOT A KNIFE—’
64
She thought, moreover, real lies were—lies told
For harm’s sake; whereas this had good at heart…
Robert Browning
Pompilia
‘You need to stop,’ the man repeated, from behind the mask. ‘All right? You need to leave it. Then you won’t get hurt.Stop.’
Before Robin could say or do anything else, he threw the dagger at her feet, turned, and sprinted away.
Ilsa was still shouting on the other end of the phone. Too stunned to compute what had just happened, Robin stared at the dagger lying on the pavement, then crouched down to look at it.
‘ARE YOU THERE?ROBIN!’
‘Yes,’ said Robin, raising the phone to her ear again. Her heart seemed to be thudding in her throat. ‘I’m here. I’m fine. It’s OK. He ran away.’
‘JESUS CHRIST, ROBIN!’
‘It’s all right, I’m OK. He didn’t do any—’
