Page 357 of The Hallmarked Man
Martin retrieved his holdall from the stairs where he’d abandoned it and followed Robin into her flat.
‘Nice place.’
‘Thanks,’ said Robin automatically. The gorilla picture was rustling; she looked down at it and realised she was shaking.
Without taking off her coat, Robin walked through to the kitchen to fetch yet another freezer bag and put the gorilla picture inside it. Would the police take this seriously? They still hadn’t shown up for the masonic dagger or the rubber gorilla forced into her hand in Harrods.
‘Listen,’ she said, turning to face Martin with the now protected picture in her hand, ‘please –please– don’t mention this at home. I’m begging you, Martin. I can’t take Mum having a go at me on top of everything else I’ve got going on.’
‘You gonna call Ryan?’
‘He’s got far more important things to worry about than me, this evening,’ said Robin, thinking of the pipe bombs. ‘Look, there’s a bottle of wine in the fridge—’
Her phone rang: Strike.
‘I’ll take this in my bedroom, help yourself to anything you want.’
Still holding the picture of the gorilla’s face, and wearing her coat, Robin went into her bedroom, sat down on the end of her bed and answered her partner’s call.
‘Hi.’
‘Just checking in,’ said Strike. ‘Get home OK?’
‘Yes,’ said Robin shakily. ‘Where are you?’
‘Haringey. Plug and his son are sitting in his van on Carnival Street.’
‘Oh no,’ said Robin angrily. ‘He’s going to involve hissonin a revenge stabbing?’
‘Looks like it. Barclay and Shah are tailing two more members of the revenge posse and they all seem to be converging in this direction. I think tonight’s the night.’
Robin immediately dismissed the idea of telling Strike that Wade King had come calling. He was trying to foil a possible stabbing: now wasn’t the moment. Strike, however, had detected a note of strain in her voice.
‘You sure everything’s OK?’
‘Yes. My brother Martin’s here. He turned up unexpectedly.’
‘Ah,’ said Strike, pleased to hear this on two counts: Robin had a large man there for protective purposes, and assuming Murphy hadn’t already done so, he’d be unlikely to propose tonight. ‘Well, give him my regards.’
‘I will,’ said Robin. ‘Good luck with Plug. I really hope nobody gets hurt.’
‘Might do Plug some good to get clobbered,’ said Strike, ‘but I’ll do my best to stop anyone hurting the kid.’
Robin hid the sheet of paper she was holding in the same drawer as the dagger and rubber gorilla. She was still shaking. On sudden impulse, she picked up her mobile again and, before she could second-guess herself, called Strike’s therapist half-sister Prudence.
‘Robin!’ said Prudence, on answering. ‘How are you?’
‘Um… not fabulous, to tell you the truth,’ said Robin. ‘I’m really sorry to lay this on you, Prudence, and obviously it can’t be you, personally, but I was wondering whether you could recommend someone to me… a therapist, I mean. For me. But, Prudence – I’m sorry,’ Robin repeated, aware that she was gabbling slightly, ‘it can’t be – I don’t want anyone who’s going to try and talk me out of what I do for a living. I need someone – someone who – I don’t know – gets it – someone who’s – I can’t really explain what I mean—’
‘Robin, has something happened?’ said Prudence, sounding concerned. ‘Something new, I mean?’
‘A load of things have happened,’ said Robin, ‘and I’m… I’m not in great shape. I should probably – after Chapman Farm – but I didn’t.’
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Prudence said thoughtfully, ‘I think I knowexactlythe right person.’
‘You do?’ said Robin, surprised and hopeful.
‘Yes. She’s quite unconventional, but her patients love her.’
