Page 60 of The Hallmarked Man
‘And you’re sure both the man and the girl had been in Wright’s room?’
‘Yeah, I could ’ear ’em walking ’cross our ceiling. An’ I asked Hussein later, “did you see eiver of them people?” An’ ’e said no. An’ then, on the Monday, it was on the news Wright ’ad been killed, and I said to Daz—’
‘I come back Saturday evenin’,’ Daz informed Strike and Robin. ‘She’d suffered enough.’
‘Fuck off,’ said Mandy vaguely. ‘No, so, I says to Daz, “that was weird, those two goin’ in an’ out ’is room”.’
‘I’m only asking this for our information,’ Robin said, ‘not because we’re going to pass anything on. Did you tell the police any of this?’
Daz gave a little ‘huh’ of laughter.
‘Nah,’ said Mandy, showing her brown teeth as she grinned. ‘Jus’ said we didn’ really know ’im.’
Daz, of course, was dealing pot, and possibly other drugs; Strike and Robin had both registered the Ritalin joke, just as they’d noticed the court summons lying on top of the chest of drawers. Robin could well imagine that Daz and Mandy’s dominant emotions on finding police in the house would have been panic and a firm disinclination for letting them enter this squalid room.
Robin asked a few more questions, but Mandy had no information to give about either the couple’s clothing or age; the woman, she said, looked young and the man older, but the hall, she reminded Robin, was quite dark.
‘Did either of you ever see inside Wright’s room?’ Robin asked.
Both shook their heads.
‘Before we go,’ said Strike, reaching into his coat pocket, ‘could I show you some pictures?’
He pulled out his phone and laid it on his knee as he sorted the pictures of Niall Semple, Tyler Powell and Rupert Fleetwood. While he was doing this, the screen of his mobile lit up and Robin saw a textfrom Kim, and the words, in capitals,‘SO SEXY’. Next second, Strike’s large, hairy-backed hand had covered it, and he’d returned the phone to his inner pocket, leaving Robin to feel as though as ice cubes had just dropped into her stomach.
‘Could you tell me whether any of these men could have been Wright?’ Strike said, getting up to hand the pictures to Mandy. Daz, his half joint now lit, moved to the end of the bed and sat down beside Mandy to look.
‘Woss ’e wearin’?’ was Mandy’s only comment, as she surveyed Rupert Fleetwood in his waiter’s bow tie. ‘’Andsome,’ she said appreciatively, when she turned to Niall Semple’s picture. ‘Looks like Thor.’
‘Does ’e fuck,’ sneered Daz, scratching his small, flabby belly again.
‘’Is ears,’ sniggered Mandy, when she reached Tyler Powell. ‘But,’ she said, looking at Powell, ‘it could’ve been ’im, y’know. Wiv ’is ears covered, wiv ’is ’air.’
‘Really?’ said Strike.
‘Nah,’ said Daz.
‘Could of been,’ said Mandy.
‘How sure are you?’ said Strike. ‘Out of ten?’
Mandy looked as alarmed as she’d been when asked to agree to a firm date, earlier.
‘Five,’ she said. ‘But ’e was a bit like ’im, too,’ said Mandy, now holding up Rupert Fleetwood’s picture, with an air of wanting to cover all her bases.
‘Right,’ said Strike, taking the photos back again. ‘Well, you’ve been very helpful, thanks,’ he said. ‘For the record, what did you think, when you saw Knowles’ picture?’
‘We never fort it was ’im,’ said Mandy.
‘Youdid,’ Daz contradicted her. ‘You said, when it come out, “fuck, ’e was for real, ’ewason the run.”’
‘I never,’ said Mandy crossly.
‘Is there anything else you can remember about Wright?’ asked Robin, but Mandy and Daz had given all they had to give. However, even Daz seemed slightly reluctant to let the detectives go: their visit had been an unusual, mildly exciting, interlude.
Robin wanted to get out into clean air again, but she felt a pang of guilt at leaving the family where they were, especially as Mandy began talking about housing when it became clear that Strike and Robin were really leaving.
‘We’ve bin on the waiting list for a council ’ouse for a year,’ she said, walking them to the front door.
