Page 216 of The Hallmarked Man
‘Any idea where they went?’ asked Robin.
‘I know they were from the Home Counties orig—’
‘Good riddance. Spreading lies,’ said Dilys. ‘Saying it was Tyler’s fault. And everyone believed it.’
‘I didn’t believe it, Dilys,’ said Griffiths, ‘and nor did—’
‘Your Chloe just buggered off and left him to it. Nobody stuck up for him.’
Dilys pursed her lips, as though to stop herself crying.
‘When you read the news reports about the body in the vault,’ Robin said, as compassionately as she could, ‘what made you—?’
‘’Cause it was like him and he said “silver”,’ said Dilys. ‘I heard him, on the phone.’
‘Did the police come and see you, after you called the helpline?’ asked Robin.
‘Useless,’ said Dilys. ‘Useless.’
‘They interviewed you, did—?’
‘Come see me,’ said Dilys. ‘Useless.’
‘One other thing, Mrs Powell: did Tyler ever talk about a man called Oz, or a man in the music business?’
‘Oz?’ said Dilys. ‘Who’s Oz? What are you, reporters?’
‘No, Mrs Powell, we’re private detectives,’ said Robin. ‘We spoke, on the phone. I asked if we could—’
‘I need to get home,’ said Dilys suddenly. ‘I need to go.’
She seemed overwhelmed and a little confused, batting away Griffiths’ help as she struggled out of her chair. Robin could tell there was no point trying to persuade her to stay. Dilys grasped her walking frame, accepted her bag from Griffiths without thanking him, then set off at a snail’s pace for the back door.
‘I can manage,’ she snapped at Griffiths, when he made to follow her.
‘Sorry,’ said Griffiths quietly, once Dilys was shuffling up the garden path.
‘No, we’re grateful for the tea and the information,’ said Robin, getting to her feet. Beside her, Strike was having some difficulty doing the same: his knee was refusing to cooperate. Robin took her card out of her purse and handed it to Griffiths.
‘If you remember anything else, could you let us know?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ said Griffiths, tucking the card in his jeans pocket. ‘This whole thing – it was an accident and people wanting someone to blame. Small-town gossip. You know what it’s like.’
Robin’s thoughts flew unhelpfully towards Masham, and the fact that her rape had been leaked onto the internet.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I do know.’
With a low groan he failed to suppress, Strike succeeded in leaving the sofa.
‘Yeah, cheers,’ he said, trying not to grimace in pain as he held out his hand to Griffiths. ‘Big help.’
68
And long we try in vain to speak and act
Our hidden self, and what we say and do
Is eloquent, is well—but ’tis not true!
