The Hallmarked Man полностью

‘Then she’s right: the police might take the possibility it was Fleetwood a bit more seriously, she’ll get her DNA test and bingo, she’s got certainty. You think I’m not trying to help her, but I am. If I can find a way of forcing Valentine to talk—’

‘Why’s it OK to force Valentine to talk to us, but not put surveillance on Albie? Why’s it OK to try and find that girl Tish who Rupert lived with?’

‘Because anything Fleetwood did and said before he disappeared could shed a light on whether he was intending to disguise himself as William Wright. We can justify that on her bills. What we can’t justify is trying to find the living Fleetwood, because the client’s expressly said she doesn’t want us to!’

‘But she’s going to have to face the possibility at some point!’

‘It isn’t our job to tell the client what she wants investigating,’ said Strike. ‘We aren’t fucking social workers.’

They sat in silence for nearly a minute, during which Robin drank some of her coffee, not looking at Strike.

‘I need to get going,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to get changed, I’m on Plug this evening. If I don’t see you before, I’ll meet you at Euston on Monday evening.’

Strike watched her go, unhappy with the way the conversation had gone, then pulled his muted mobile out of his pocket. He had another missed call from Pat, in addition to the one he’d ignored on the way to Quo Vadis. He called her back.

‘Hi,’ he said, ‘you’ve been trying to reach me.’

‘Yes,’ said Pat, ‘a woman called Bijou Watkins wants to talk to you.’

Strike knew Pat was aware who Bijou Watkins was, but he appreciated the pretence she’d forgotten the smattering of press connecting him with Bijou a few months previously.

‘OK,’ said Strike. ‘I’ve got her details. I’ll ring her now.’

‘Right-o,’ said Pat gruffly, and she hung up.

Strike contemplated Ronnie Scott’s jazz club, which lay almost opposite the café where he was sitting, thinking about what he was about to say. Then he took a lungful of nicotine vapour and called Bijou’s number.

51

… all I want’s the thing

Settled for ever one way. As it is,

You tell too many lies and hurt yourself:

You don’t like what you only like too much,

You do like what, if given you at your word,

You find abundantly detestable.

Robert Browning

Fra Lippo Lippi

‘Hello?’

‘It’s me. Strike.’

‘Oh, thank God,’ said Bijou. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to have to drag you into this, but—’

‘I know about the super-injunction. I know he thinks it’s my kid.’

‘Wh – how?’

‘Because people have been fucking gossiping,’ said Strike, ‘exactly as you intended them to when you were trying to make Honbold jealous enough to leave his wife.’

‘You don’t underst—’

‘Don’t you dare fucking tell me I don’t understand,’ said Strike, his temper barely under control now he heard her loud, husky voice again, because it reminded him of the tedious hours he’d spent in her company, all in the service of two easy fucks, and of his own stupidity. ‘Now, listen to me. He’s having you followed.’

‘Andrew is?’

‘Who else?’ said Strike, keeping his voice low with difficulty, because a hardy middle-aged couple had now, most inconveniently, decided to brave the cold and sit at the next table. Abandoning his coffee, Strike got to his feet, shoved his vape pen back into his coat pocket and headed off in the direction of Denmark Street. ‘So there can’t be any face-to-face meetings between us, if that’s what you were calling to suggest.’

‘Oh God, oh God,’ moaned Bijou. ‘What does the person following me look like?’

‘How the fuck do I know? I’m just warning you, you need to live like an agoraphobic nun from now until you get the DNA test results.’

‘Andrew’s refusing to do a test! He’s convinced she’s yours!’

‘And she’s not?’

‘Of course she’s not!’

‘You’re sure about that?’

‘Yes, of course I am!’

‘Because since we last met, I’ve been filled in on an unpleasant bedroom habit of yours,’ said Strike mercilessly.

‘What d’you—?’

‘Used condoms. Bedroom bin. Do-It-Yourself.’

‘I never—’

‘That’s not what my source says, and I’m afraid I find them a lot more credible than you. I’ve also heard Honbold might have good reason to think he can’t get a woman pregnant.’

‘You mean the sulfasalazine? That only lowers sperm count, it doesn’t make you infertile!’

‘If,’ said Strike, ‘you deliberately got pregnant by me, because Honbold was firing blanks and you thought you’d be able to convince him the kid was his—’

‘What do you think I am?’

‘I know exactly what you are, which is why we’re having this fucking conversation. I warned you when you dragged me into your mess last time, I won’t take it lying down if this causes me even more fucking grief than it has already.’

‘You’re threatening a new mother!’ said Bijou shrilly. ‘How will that play in the press?’