Page 368 of The Hallmarked Man
‘Ah want tae. Ah’ve got people aftae me.’
As Strike knew for a fact that Rena was of interest to MI5, he couldn’t attribute the belief entirely to Gatesheadery.
‘Well, it’s good to finally meet you,’ he said.
She squinted up at him and he thought she seemed half-intrigued, half-suspicious.
‘Are ye really him, are ye? The detective?’
‘I am, yeah,’ said Strike.
‘They told me not tae speak tae ye.’
‘I know,’ said Strike. ‘They think I want to make trouble. I don’t. I’m just trying to find out what happened to Niall Semple.’
‘Ah thought you were tryna find mah brother?’
Shit.
He’d seen Rena’s tweet saying that she didn’t believe her brother, Ben, was dead, of course, but he’d hoped the truth might have sunk in over the succeeding two years. This situation, he knew, would require very careful handling, because he had no idea whether the brain-damaged Niall Semple had fed her false hope that her brother was still alive.
‘Let’s go and get something to eat,’ he said, in what was supposed to be an encouraging tone.
‘Naw,’ she said again, still squinting up at him in the semi-darkness, and then, ‘ye were army, weren’tcha? Ah seen online.’
‘I was in the army, yeah,’ said Strike.
‘Ah dunnae believe in armies, Ah dunnae think we should even fuckin’ have them, Ah seen what goes on.’
Long exposure to people in the grip of addictions and mental health issues during Strike’s childhood had taught him that unless you enjoyed rapidly escalating conflict and ugly scenes, calm agreement, wherever possible, was the best policy.
‘Yeah, bad stuff goes on,’ he said. ‘Why don’t we just walk a bit?’
Rena ignored this suggestion. Her blonde hair was in dreadlocks and Strike wouldn’t have been surprised to see insects crawling in it. He didn’t blame her for the physical state she was in, but he wondered what the psychiatric facility had been doing, letting her go, however convenient it was to him that they’d done so.
‘Ah think it was here he meant,’ said Rena, gesturing at the bridge.
‘Who, Niall?’
‘Aye. He said he’d left stuff for me. More stuff. Mebbe hid behind the bricks?’ she said, looking vaguely upwards.
‘Yeah, you told me he gave you something when you met,’ said Strike. ‘What was it?’
‘Ah’m not givin’ it tae ye,’ she said, seized with suspicion again.
‘I’m not after it,’ Strike assured her. ‘I was just interested, because you told me about it.’
‘Ah nivver.’
‘Must’ve imagined that, then,’ he said placatingly. ‘Come on, let’s walk a bit. We can come back here. Aren’t you hungry?’
‘Ye’re not workin’ fer the fuckin’ security service fuckers now, are ye?’
‘No,’ said Strike. ‘They aren’t happy with me. They don’t want me meeting you.’
‘Aye, Ah knowtha’,’ she said. ‘’Cause o’ what Ah might say.’
‘It’s getting cold. Why don’t we walk a bit?’
