Page 233 of The Hallmarked Man
‘Bye,’ Robin said to Strike, and hung up.
‘Albie’s the blond guy sitting on his own,’ Robin told Kim without looking at her, as both stood facing the bar, though apparently unconnected to each other. ‘You’ll be able to get nearer to him than I c – ah,’ said Robin, watching the mirror. A good-looking young woman with shiny, near-black hair had just entered the pub and waved at Albie.
‘We’re very interested in a girl called Tish Benton,’ said Robin quietly to Kim, as the newcomer bought herself a drink at the far end of the bar. ‘That could be her. If you can get near enough to hear her name, that’d be great.’
‘Yes, I think that’ll be within my capabilities,’ said Kim.
‘Glad to hear it,’ said Robin tartly, and she left.
72
… we made a league together, notwithstanding that my gods were not thine; because we were brethren in the sacred mysteries…
Albert Pike
The Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry
Unbeknownst to Robin, Strike was currently preoccupied with an investigative problem he considered even more pressing than the identity of the body in the silver vault.
Having racked his brains for the best way to throw off the surveillance under which Bijou’s former lover had placed her, and for a discreet venue suitable for the provision of DNA swabs, he’d decided to call again on his extensive knowledge of London’s five-star hotels. On the same cold, damp morning he’d arranged to meet his old friend Graham Hardacre for a tour of Freemasons’ Hall, Strike hung around in his attic flat until ten past nine, by which point he thought it reasonable to suppose that Bijou would be awake but still at home, without eavesdroppers or passers-by to listen in. He reached for Ted’s fisherman’s priest and sat weighing it in his hand as he waited for her to answer, which she did within a few rings.
‘Hello?’
‘It’s me,’ said Strike. ‘I’ve got a plan for the DNA test.’
‘Oh, thank God,’ said Bijou fervently. ‘Today?’
‘Day after tomorrow,’ said Strike. ‘But you cannot tellanyone—’
‘I won’t!’ said Bijou shrilly. ‘For God’s sake, do you think Iwantpeople knowing?’
‘Right, well, I’ve booked a room at the Savoy,’ said Strike.
‘The hotel?’
‘No, the cabbage,’ said Strike irritably. ‘Of course the bloody hotel.’
‘We can’t meet at a hotel, that’ll look—’
‘Listen,’ said Strike, who’d anticipated her quibbles and was in no mood to humour them. ‘It’s the hardest bloody hotel in London to find your way around, it’s a maze in there. It’s got two entrances, front and back, and three different lifts going to different parts of the building. They’re discreet and professional, and they’re used to celebrities, so they won’t let themselves get tricked into giving out any booking information. Nobody’ll be able to tail you to the room, or prove who you met or what you did in there, as long as you follow my instructions.’
‘But—’
‘What’s the likelihood of us meeting to fuck in an expensive hotel, in the city where both of us have flats, when you’ve got a baby with you? You’re there to meet an old American friend who’s only in town for twenty-four hours, on business, but wants to meet the baby. You’re having coffee in her room at four o’clock. That’s what you say, if you need a story.’
‘OK,’ said Bijou uncertainly.
‘Have you got a pen?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and he heard her rummaging. ‘Go on.’
‘You’re going in the front. No furtiveness, you’ve got nothing to hide. Go straight through the lobby, down the steps, turn left and then right. That takes you to the red lift.’
‘Red lift,’ repeated Bijou, who was clearly making notes.
‘If anyone’s following you, it’ll be obvious, because they’ll have no choice but to get into the lift with you. If anyonedoesget in – and I don’t care how innocent they look – get out. Fake having forgotten something, or realising you’re at the wrong lift – there’s a green and blue one, too. If whoever got in the lift with you gets out when you do, you stop dead and make it clear you think their behaviour’s odd.’
‘How?’
