Page 225 of The Hallmarked Man
‘How did Danny meet this man?’ said Robin, feeling her way. ‘Did Craig introduce them?’
Fiona nodded, not looking at Robin.
‘And Danny and the rich man entered a relationship?’
‘No,’ said Fiona, with a scornful laugh.
‘From what we already know,’ said Robin, taking a chance, ‘it sounds as though Danny was blackmail—’
‘No, he wasn’t,’ said Fiona quickly, turning back to Robin again, ‘he neverblack– it was a joke! Craig told me Danny and the rich guy had a row, and that the guy had, like, contacts and stuff… said he knew rough people, had the police in his pocket… and then Danny disappeared.’
‘When?’
‘I dunno… end of May last year?’
‘How does Craig know the rich man?’ asked Robin.
‘From when he was a kid,’ said Fiona. ‘I dunno exactly how.’
Robin’s phone buzzed. She took it out to see a text from Barclay.
Wheaton food shopping. I’ll alert when he gets back in the car.
Robin slid the still-recording phone back into her bag and said,
‘So Craig told you Danny was the body in the safe?’
‘Yeah,’ said Fiona, starting to cry. ‘He told me to… to stop bloody asking people where Danny was… unless I wanted to go the same way…’
‘Is Danny the only young man Craig’s introduced to the rich man?’
Fiona shook her head, still crying.
‘There are others?’
‘Yeah… girls as well… the rich guy’s bi. Craig told me he’s married to a woman, but he likes both.’
Fiona took another drag on her cigarette and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.
‘How did you know we’re investigating that body, Fiona?’
‘’Cause I heard Craig on the phone to the rich guy… he always speaks different when he’s talking to him… an’ I heard him say “Cameron Strike” and that he hadn’t seen him around or anything… Craig sounded scared. So I Googled Strike and I saw he was a private detective.’
Fiona padded out into the garden in her bare feet, stubbed out her cigarette on a paving slab, flicked the stub into next door’s garden, closed the French windows and walked, still crying, to the kitchen island, where she sat down, supporting her forehead on her hand.
Robin’s phone buzzed again, and within seconds, Fiona’s pinged. Both reached for the mobiles, and Robin read,
Wheaton back in car with food shopping but stationary and texting.
‘It’s Craig,’ whispered Fiona, texting her partner back.
‘Is he coming home?’ asked Robin, trying to sound casual.
‘Not yet… wants to know what we need from the offie…’
Robin slipped her own phone back into her bag.
‘I thought,’ said Fiona, getting up again, and taking air freshenerout of a drawer in the island, ‘I could tip this Strike off, with a note – ’cause Craig reads my emails and texts and everything…’
