The Hallmarked Man полностью

‘Why don’t you want anyone to know you’ve got a child?’

Decima burst into tears. When it became clear she wasn’t going to stop any time soon, Strike looked around for kitchen roll, saw none, so pushed himself back into a standing position and limped off in search of toilet roll.

The small bathroom off the hall had an old-fashioned chain-operated cistern and a dead spider plant on the windowsill. He took the entire roll off its holder, returned to the kitchen and set it in front of the weeping Decima, who sobbed her thanks and groped one-handed for a few sheets. Strike sat back down in front of his open notebook.

‘This man you think was killed in the vault,’ said Strike. ‘Is he your baby’s father?’

Decima began to sob even more loudly, pressing toilet roll to her eyes. Strike took this as a ‘yes’.

‘He hasn’t left me!’

She’d already told Strike her ‘friend’ was twenty-six, and Strike judged her own age to be nearing forty. Strike’s own mother had married a man seventeen years younger than herself, at whose hands Strike remained convinced (though the jury hadn’t agreed) she’d died. Jeff Whittaker had married Leda Strike for the money he’d believed she had, and had been furious to discover that it was tied up in ways that meant he couldn’t touch it. In consequence, Cormoran Strike wasn’t very well disposed to much younger men who attached themselves to wealthy older women.

‘Everyone says he’s left me!’ sobbed Decima. ‘Valentine – he was vile about me and Rupe, from the start – he actually said to me, “you’d better not get knocked up by him.” He actually said that! And I was already pregnant! He was g-glad when Rupe disappeared! And my f-father said Rupe was only after my money – it isn’t true! When we met, it was instant, like nothing I’ve ever felt before – it was as though I’d always known him, and Rupe f-felt exactly the same, he told me so – we had this incredible connection! It was as though we – we recognised each other, as though we’d known each other—’ don’t say in a previous life ‘—in a previous life!’

‘His name’s Rupert, is it?’ was Strike’s only response, picking up his pen again.

‘Y-yes… Rupert Fleetwood.’ Decima was struggling to pull herself together, and after a few gulps said, ‘Rupert Peter Bernard Christian Fleetwood… he was born on March the eighth, 1990, and he g-grew up in Zurich.’

‘Is he Swiss?’

‘No… his aunt married a Swiss man, and… when Rupe was two… his parents took him there for a v-visit… and his mum and dad went skiing… and there was an avalanche… and they were k-killed… so he was raised there, by his aunt and uncle. But he hated it in Zurich, he had a really unhappy childhood, he just wanted to get back to the UK, and f-finally he got to London, and then Sacha – Sacha’s Rupe’s cousin – suggested he try for a job at my father’s club, because Daddy’s Rupe’s godfather… and so, that’s how we m-met. I w-was splitting my time between Daddy’s club and my own place, because Daddy’s previous chef was fired…’

The news that Rupert was the cousin of Sacha Legard, who was an acclaimed actor and exceptionally good-looking, added weight to Strike’s suspicion that Rupert Fleetwood had been interested in Decima’s money rather than herself. If he resembled Sacha, he could probably have taken his pick of younger, more glamorous women.

‘How long were you and Rupert in a relationship?’

‘A y-year.’

‘Did Fleetwood know you were pregnant?’

‘Yes, and he was delighted, he was so, so happy!’ sobbed Decima. ‘But he was having some problems and – he’s proud, he wanted to fix things himself – but he’d never have left me for good, we were so in love – n-nobody understands!’

‘You mentioned him moving out of his house. You weren’t living together?’

‘Obviously we were going to, eventually, but he had things he needed to s-sort out first – he was trying to protect me!’

‘Protect you from what?’

‘He had someone after him, someone dangerous!’

‘Who was that?’

‘A drug dealer! And my f-father had – had called the police on him…’

‘Why did your father call the police?’

‘Because Rupe had taken – but I still think he had a right to it!’ said Decima shrilly.

‘A right to what?’

‘A… a nef.’

‘A what?’ said Strike, looking up. He’d never heard of such a thing.

‘It’s a big silver table ornament,’ said Decima, sketching an object some two feet square in the air with her free arm, ‘s-seventeenth century… in the shape of a ship… it used to b-belong to Rupe’s parents. D-Daddy and Peter Fleetwood used to play backgammon and bet, and one night they were drunk, Daddy w-went and won this nef from Peter…’

‘So Rupert thought he had a right to it, because it had once been his parents’?’