‘Shoot him in the back of the head in the car on the way to a fake robbery, then dump the body? You’re right, it would… what d’you want to eat?’
‘Soup,’ said Robin. ‘I’m not that hungry.’
Strike, who was very definitely hungry, set back off for the bar, where he ordered soup for Robin and fish and chips for himself. When he returned to the table, Robin handed him her mobile, on which she’d brought up the email to the man called Osgood, allegedly sent by William Wright.
Ramsay Silver
Re: Something you should know
To: Osgood@goodtunes.co.uk
dear Mr Osgood (Oz)
I can help you with something that I know has been a problem for you if you would be happy to meet me.
‘Sent a week before Wright was killed,’ Strike noted. ‘No guarantee it was Wright who sent it, of course.’
‘If he didn’t, it’s odd nobody at the shop admitted to doing it,’ said Robin, taking her phone back.
‘True,’ said Strike. ‘But if the police thought this Osgood bloke had any bearing on the murder and theft, I’d have expected it to be in the press. We’ll try and contact him, though.’
‘It’s weird how quickly press interest died, isn’t it?’ said Robin. ‘Once they heard it was Knowles, nobody seems to have cared any more that his hands had been chopped off and his eyes gouged out—’
‘Standard operating procedure, isn’t it?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Let violent young men polish each other off. Who cares?’
‘But this was a really
‘Glad you said that, not me.’
‘Why?’
‘Not fashionable, to say men are seen as disposable in certain contexts.’
‘I’m not saying he was
‘I know you’re not, but there wasn’t a tenth of the interest there would have been if he’d been a woman, even if she’d had a record. And you’re right, this was bloody sadistic,’ said Strike. ‘Proper butchery.’
‘I’m just saying, if it had been a woman, there’d have been salacious interest, because she was naked,’ said Robin.
‘True,’ said Strike, ‘but men don’t tug at the public’s heartstrings the way women and kids do. I’m not saying women have it easy,’ Strike added, pre-emptively defending himself against an accusation he seemed to hear hovering in the wings of the conversation, ‘but there are far more men sleeping rough and they get a lot less press traction when they go missing – I’m not saying women have it easy,’ he emphasised, ‘just stating facts. Look at those two blokes they couldn’t exclude on DNA. Semple got a bit of interest because he’s an injured veteran, but Powell got fuck-all. I’ve had a quick look for him, and not a whisper about him the press.’
‘I found some stuff,’ said Robin, rummaging in her bag.
‘Seriously?’ said Strike, surprised.
‘Yes – here—’
Robin handed Strike a couple of sheets of paper on which she’d printed out some photographs she’d found on Instagram, and which she’d been intending to put in the office file when she got a chance. All had been enlarged from group shots in which Tyler Powell had been tagged. He was a powerfully built young man with overlarge ears, a slightly lopsided face and mouse-brown hair. In one of the photos, he was wearing an England football strip.
‘I’m ninety-nine per cent sure he’s the right Powell. The photos were posted by people in Ironbridge.’
‘That’s up Birmingham way, right?’ asked Strike.
‘Exactly,’ said Robin.
Strike was pleased Tyler Powell hadn’t lived nearer to London. A trip to Ironbridge might just provide those hours of uninterrupted time with Robin he wanted.
‘Look at the back of the second page,’ said Robin. ‘I printed out some of the comments beneath the last picture.’
Strike did as he was told.
lolajonz can’t stand looking at that bastard Powell after what he did
rileymiley urgh cant you crop TP out
ayeshaaaa why are we still lookin at pics of that shithead
ponzie2 chloegriff take these down nobody wanna see that fucker
‘Seems to have made himself unpopular,’ said Strike, turning the page over to look at Powell’s picture again. He didn’t look much of a villain, but Strike well remembered a young private in the Rifle Corps who’d resembled a choirboy and been convicted of rape in Cyprus.
‘I haven’t found any social media for Powell yet,’ said Robin, ‘but I’ll keep trying.’
‘OK,’ said Strike, ‘and I’ll ask Hardy if he can find out anything on Niall Semple for me.’
Their food now arrived. Strike ate a couple of chips, then said,
‘You know, I wouldn’t mind knowing whether DCI Truman ever rolls his trousers up when he’s not paddling.’
‘What?’
