Page 341 of The Hallmarked Man
‘Yeah, strangely enough, both stuck in my mind.’
‘I’ve got them both wrapped up in freezer bags at home. I told the police about them, but nobody’s come round for them yet. They seem to be leaning towards the fact that he’s an opportunist or a stalker, as opposed to someone trying to stop me investigating. They weren’t very interested in me saying a man with the same jacket had been outside my flat on Saturday.’
‘Can’t Murphy make them take this more bloody seriously?’
‘He’s done all he can,’ lied Robin.
‘So that’s all they’ve told you, that he’s out on bail?’
‘And that he lives in a completely different area of London to me. I think they thought that would make me feel safer – though as he definitely knows where I live, it didn’t, really,’ Robin admitted. ‘Anyway, all the usual bail conditions apply: he can’t change address, he’s not allowed to contact me and he’ll be reporting to the police once a week.’
‘Yeah, that’ll stop him,’ said Strike injudiciously, before remembering that that probably wasn’t a very helpful thing to say. ‘What about that older bloke in the Honda Accord? Have you seen him again?’
‘Not since I told you about him.’
‘OK, well, we need to decide how we’re going to deal with this stuff, going forwards.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘You know what I mean,’ said Strike.
He’d deliberately suggested she join him for dinner at the Goring before embarking on this part of the conversation, because he wanted to reassure her she wasn’t being cut off from the case. The lack of response from the other end of the phone told Strike that Robin was waiting on tenterhooks to hear what he was about to say, but the time for prevarication and soft-pedalling was over. He wasn’t going to get as angry as he had in Ironbridge, but nor was he going to shirk what he knew to be his duty, even if Robin didn’t like it. The news that the man in the green jacket had been more persistent than Strike had previously known had more than confirmed his opinion that stricter security measures must be taken.
‘Someone, probably Branfoot, is trying to scare us off, and you’re the one they’re targeting,’ said Strike.
‘Because I’m—’
‘Because they think they’ve spotted a vulnerability,’ said Strikefirmly. ‘And when your opponent’s spotted a vulnerability, you don’t keep presenting it to him, youdefend it. You’re literally the best I’ve ever worked with.Ever.But you had no qualms telling me I wasn’t fit for the job when I was on crutches, and I’m returning the favour. No public transport, no lonely locations andespeciallyno more night-time excursions on your own.None, until we’ve wrapped up this case.’
‘But—’ said Robin, whose eyes had filled with tears when Strike had said she was the best he’d ever worked with.
‘There’s no “but”,’ said Strike. ‘We’ve had this discussion before. If you aren’t shaken up by all this, you bloody well should be. Doesn’t mean you can’t work, just means you’ll be working differently for a while.’
‘But Strike, I can’t stop night work. If Plug and his friends are plotting revenge on that man in Carnival—’
‘Nothing’s happened so far and that could’ve been hot air and bullshit. Look,’ said Strike, and it cost him some pride to admit he’d remembered her exact words, ‘you told me you “didn’t want to lose me”.Idon’t want to loseyou.’
Though Strike couldn’t hear it this time, because she had her hand pressed over her mouth, Robin was crying again. The hot tears trickled down over her fingers, and she didn’t trust herself to speak.
‘I didn’t tell you,’ said Strike. ‘I was at Rokeby’s when you called on Friday.’
‘Where?’ said Robin, in a slightly strangled voice.
‘Rokeby’s,’ repeated Strike.
‘What’s that, a restaurant?’ said Robin, struggling to sound normal.
‘No, it’s the house of Jonny Rokeby,’ said Strike. ‘The man who contributed half my DNA. My father, if you must.’
‘What?’ said Robin, the information having precisely the distracting effect Strike had hoped it would. ‘You –what? Why? How?’
When Strike had finished explaining, Robin said, stunned,
‘You said you’ll go for a drink with him?’
‘Didn’t have much choice, did I? Not after he dug me out of that hole. But if you check the paper today, you’ll see a retraction and an apology about Candy. They’ve buried it on page sixteen, but still.’
‘Wow,’ said Robin, who’d wiped her face dry with her sleeve and was feeling – even after the imposition of new working conditions – far better than she had at the start of the conversation. It was strangely consoling to be reminded that Strike, too, had made errorsof judgement that had threatened not only his peace of mind, but his ability to do the job.
