Page 77 of The Hallmarked Man
If thou knowst it, telling
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?
‘How did you know I’m investigating?’ Strike asked, after sitting down again.
‘You was seen,’ said Shanker. ‘Seen where you shouldn’t ’ave been. An’ word got back, an’ the big shot what ordered the ’it ’ain’t ’appy you’re stickin’ your fuckin’ bugle in. S’all I know.’
‘Listen,’ said Strike, ‘if there’s a second Lynden Knowles after me, I need to know. This isn’t just about me, this is Robin and the rest of the agency. What exactly am I looking at here?’
‘Work it aht,’ said Shanker. ‘Where it ’appened.’
They looked at each other. When Shanker neither blinked nor laughed, Strike said,
‘You have to be kidding me. You think I’m going to be done in by the Freemasons?’
‘You know your problem, Bunsen?’ said Shanker, scowling. ‘You’re fuckin’ naive. You fink because some geezer’s got money an’ wears a fuckin’ suit, an’ ’e’s never been done for nuffin’—’
‘Idon’tthink that, but—’
‘You fink a man ’oo’s got a lot to lose, an’ pays to get rid of some geezer ’oo’s got the goods on ’im, an’ gets away wiv it, is ’appy when ’e ’ears you’re nosin’ around? You gotta name now, Bunsen,’ said Shanker, not without a certain admiration.
‘All right, you’ve told me this much, tell me who this big-shot Freemason is.’
‘Can’t. Toldja. I don’ know ’is name.’
‘You’re not just assuming he was a mason from where the body was found?’
‘No,’ said Shanker, now growing impatient, ‘I’m tellin’ ya, ’e’s a fuckin’ mason. The guy ’oo done the ’it, ’e said so. The bigshot’s a mason, ’e’s got money to burn, ’e’s got people to do ’is shit for ’im.’
Shanker sipped his pint, while Strike recalled Mandy’s words, back in St George’s Avenue: ‘’E said “someone” might come round lookin’ for ’im, but then ’e said, “or ’e might send someone.”’
‘You don’t know the mason’s name?’ asked Strike.
‘I’ve fuckin’ toldja,no.’
‘D’you know who the victim was?’
‘No, I jus’ know ’e ’ad somefing on the mason, so ’e got rubbed aht.’
‘The hitman doesn’t ever go by “Oz”, does he?’ said Strike, taking a shot in the dark.
‘What – like the fuckin’ wizard?’
‘Yeah,’ said Strike.
‘Not that I ever ’eard.’
Shanker’s gaze swivelled right, towards the door.
‘Time’s up, Bunsen.’
Strike looked around. A large man even more comprehensively tattooed than Shanker had just entered the pub.
‘That’s all you’ve got?’ said Strike.
‘’S’all I’ve got,’ said Shanker, already raising a hand to alert the tattooed man in the doorway to his presence.
