Page 327 of The Hallmarked Man
‘Where is she?’
‘She’s been sectioned.’
‘Why?’
‘She’s been trying to get hold of a gun.’
‘What for?’
‘You’ve found her social media. You tell me which group of people she might think deserves shooting.’
Strike wasn’t about to fall into that trap. Lawrence sipped what looked like water and, while pulling out his vape, Strike entertained himself for a moment by imagining slapping it out of the man’s hand.
‘This is the kind of thing people assume spooks do, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Get people locked up for being crazy if they know too much?’
‘What makes you think Rena Liddell knows anything?’
‘She knows something,’ said Strike, ‘or you wouldn’t be sitting here. You’d’ve let me think she’d just stood me up if you weren’t worried she’d already told me something.’
‘Maybe I’ve got questions for you.’
‘Go on, then,’ said Strike.
‘You’ve clearly had contact with her, other than over social media.’
‘Have I?’
‘First contact didn’t happen there. Who approached who?’
‘It’s all a bit hazy now,’ said Strike.
‘Angela told me you think you’re funny,’ said Lawrence.
‘No, she didn’t,’ said Strike calmly.
‘Look,’ said Lawrence, and Strike was happy to see he hadn’t liked the fact his snide comment had glanced off Strike without leaving a mark, ‘I’m doing you a favour here, little though you seem to realise it. You’ve had online contact with a mentally ill Islamophobe who was trying to get herself a gun.’
‘You aren’t going to intimidate me by hinting I’ve had contact with a terrorist,’ said Strike. ‘I know full well why you’re here, and it’s got fuck-all to do with guns. You fucked up, warning Rena not to give me the time of day. That’s what gave her the idea of contacting me in the first place. If she’s become a liability, that’s your fault, not mine.’
‘Mr Strike, I’m asking for your cooper—’
‘And I might’ve given it, if you hadn’t forced me to walk up onto the fucking roof and spill my pint.’
Strike pushed himself back into a standing position.
‘There are still civil liberties in this country. You’ll have your work cut out, keeping her in a psychiatric facility indefinitely. I can wait.’
He turned and, doing his absolute best not to hobble, set back off down the steep metal staircase. As he’d rashly committed to driving to the Quicksilver Mail pub in Yeovil, he supposed he should get going.
102
Indulge me but a moment: if I fail
—Favoured with such an audience, understand!—
To set things right, why, class me with the mob
As understander of the mind of man!
