Page 61 of The Hallmarked Man
‘That’s awful,’ said Robin.
Strike reached into his pocket again and took out a further twenty pounds.
‘For your trouble,’ he said. ‘Buy Clint something for Christmas.’
‘Oh, cheers!’ said Mandy, now far happier to see them depart.
The door closed behind Strike and Robin as they walked down the steps.
‘That was nice,’ said Robin.
‘Just hope it doesn’t all go on weed. Fancy a debrief? There’s a pub up—’
‘Could we do it tomorrow?’ said Robin. ‘I’ve actually got to get going just now.’
‘Oh,’ said Strike. ‘Right.’
‘I’ve got a load of paperwork to file at the office, and I don’t want to put it off, because I’m going to view a house later,’ said Robin.
‘Right,’ said Strike again.
Fuck, fuck, FUCK.
Strike walked slowly back towards his BMW, pulling his mobile out of his pocket as he went. Another text from Kim had followed the one he’d glimpsed inside.
Omg, sorry, that wasn’t meant for you!
He scrolled up to the previous text.
He looked SO SEXY in his dinner jacket!
19
We for a certainty are not the first
Have sat in taverns while the tempest hurled
Their hopeful plans to emptiness, and cursed
Whatever brute and blackguard made the world.
A. E. Housman
IX, Last Poems
‘So,’ said Murphy, setting a glass of tonic water and a packet of crisps in front of Robin six hours later, ‘that was a waste of bloody time.’
‘I know,’ said Robin.
They were sitting in the corner of a loud and noisy pub situated close to the small terraced house in Wanstead they’d just viewed. Having spent an hour in Mandy and Daz’s bedsit that morning Robin would have expected anything to look good by comparison, but she doubted the ‘three bedrooms, separate lounge and kitchen’ had been decorated or restored in thirty years. Robin and Murphy had trailed around the place in the wake of a middle-aged couple who appeared to be looking at the house as an investment opportunity: renovate, sell and reap a fat profit.
Murphy had only ten minutes to spare before he needed to set off back to work. He hadn’t told Robin exactly what was happening on his gang shooting case, or what he’d be doing this evening, had arrived late for the house viewing and been almost monosyllabic throughout. He kept checking his phone.
‘Are you OK?’ Robin asked tentatively.
‘Yeah,’ said Murphy.
He took a sip of his zero-alcohol beer, then said,
