Page 94 of The Hallmarked Man
I’m not working for a newspaper. I’m just looking for a quick conversation.
If Lawrence really was able to access Jade’s private Facebook messages, Strike hoped he’d enjoy that one.
Sitting back down at the desk and ignoring his salad, because he was already in a bad mood, Strike retrieved the cipher note he’d hidden under his keyboard and set to work, translating the message symbol by symbol. Within minutes, he’d produced a sentence in English written beneath the code:
the | man | in | the| safe | was | dangerous | dick | delion | i | don’t | know | who | had | him | killed | but | he | is | on | TV
27
The only difficulty was to decide how to look into it – what to do, and how.
John Oxenham
A Maid of the Silver Sea
On Saturday morning, which was foggy and cold, Robin awoke, exhausted, in Murphy’s flat in Wanstead. She’d have liked another couple of hours’ sleep, because in spite of telling her boyfriend that she’d be ‘coming to bed soon’ and ‘just needed to send another couple of emails’, Robin had sat up in Murphy’s sitting room until two o’clock, perusing the Facebook page of Calvin Osgood, the genuine music producer, and the Instagram page of Calvin ‘Oz’ Osgood, his impersonator. After making her way through a digital labyrinth of connections and dead ends, she’d reached a website for missing young people and been unable to go any further.
She’d crept into bed so as not to wake Murphy, but her night had been restless and punctuated with nightmares about Chapman Farm. However, as she and Murphy had an appointment to view another house together, she rose, swollen-eyed but uncomplaining, at eight, dressed and ate breakfast, before setting out into the thick, chill mist. They were in Murphy’s Toyota Avensis, because Robin had now taken her Land Rover to a garage for its MOT. Leaving it there, she’d felt not unlike a pet owner waiting to hear whether the vet could save her beloved animal: the car’s rattle, which she still hadn’t traced to its source, had grown louder.
Murphy was in a better mood today. The Met had re-arrested the driver of the car from which the shooting of the two young brotherswas believed to have happened. Murphy now told her, with cautious confidence, ‘I think we’ll get the bastards this time.’
The fog lay thickly on the road as they drove west to Wood Green, but the Avensis was warm and snug, and Robin thought of the old Land Rover and tried to tell herself it mightn’t be a bad idea to have a car with a working heater. ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’ was playing on the radio when Robin’s mobile rang and immediately connected to Bluetooth, revealing Strike’s name.
‘Hi,’ she said, answering, ‘what’s up?’
‘Got news, if you can talk.’
‘Actually,’ said Robin, slightly panicked – she didn’t want Strike to say anything that would reveal to Murphy what they were up to, and least of all did she want Strike to mention that they knew the body wasn’t Jason Knowles – ‘could I call you back? I’m on my way to see another house.’
‘No problem,’ said Strike, ‘speak later.’
Robin hung up. ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’ came back over the speakers.
‘What aren’t I allowed to hear?’ said Murphy.
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Robin. ‘I’m just tired. I can’t be doing with a long work chat right now.’
They drove on through the fog, and after a while, Robin initiated a conversation about their imminent trip to Masham.
See?she thought.You’re the one I’m taking home. You’re the one I’m spending Christmas with.
‘This looks all right,’ said Murphy enthusiastically, half an hour later, when they arrived in Moselle Avenue. The terraced houses were of red brick, and all of them looking in far better repair than the one they’d recently viewed in Wanstead.
Robin had just got out of the car when her mobile rang again, and she recognised the same Ironbridge number she’d seen before. As she’d left yet another message for Dilys Powell the previous day, she said,
‘Ryan, I’ve got to take this, it’s about Rupert Fleetwood. You go in, I’ll be five minutes.’
‘I’ll wait for you.’
She wondered whether he thought it was Strike calling back.
‘It’s freezing, go in and look interested, we don’t want to miss the slot.’
So Murphy headed across the road, and was admitted to the house, while Robin answered her call.
‘Robin Ellacott.’
‘This is Dilys,’ said a cracked voice.
