Strike sincerely hoped his expression hadn’t betrayed him, but the question had come as a shock.
‘Why’re you—?’
‘Wright told one of his upstairs neighbours he had a pregnant girlfriend,’ said Iverson, watching for Strike’s reaction. ‘He said he was saving up for an engagement ring.’
‘The neighbour in question being one of the Mohamed family?’ said Strike.
‘Yes,’ said Iverson.
‘I can’t disclose details about my client,’ said Strike, though the information that Wright had claimed to have a pregnant girlfriend had rattled him.
‘Where did you get the tip-off that Knowles wasn’t the man found in the silver vault?’ asked Iverson.
Noting that they were now acknowledging that they’d been well aware before tonight that Strike was investigating the body in the vault, he replied,
‘A contact.’
‘Same guy who’s previously given you tips on organised crime?’
‘Yeah,’ said Strike.
‘People might think an informant like that would do more good working with the police, than for a private detective,’ said Northmore. The man’s breath really stank; Strike was trying not to breathe through his nose. ‘Or d’you pay him well enough to make sure you’re the only one who gets tips?’
‘Not a question of money,’ said Strike, and Northmore let out a small, derisive snort, which irritated the detective, though he tried not to show it. ‘This particular contact would collaborate with the Met when hell freezes over.’
‘But we’re to take it on his say so that Knowles went to “Barnaby’s”?’
‘No need to take it on his say so, if I can point you to exactly what and where Barnaby’s is,’ said Strike, deciding it was time to hint at his valuable informational carrot.
As he’d expected, a further silence ensued.
‘You know where it is, do you?’ said Iverson.
‘I do, yeah,’ said Strike. ‘Found out this evening, as a matter of fact.’
‘Convenient,’ said Northmore.
‘Coincidental,’ said Strike.
‘You don’t seem to feel much compunction about complicating or impeding police investigations, Mr Strike,’ said Northmore.
‘When’ve I done that?’ asked Strike.
‘You entered a murder scene without authority just a couple of hours ago.’
‘Nobody knew it was a murder scene before I got in there.’
‘You’ve been interviewing people connected to two open murder inquiries.’
‘The William Wright inquiry was closed when my agency took the case,’ said Strike. ‘You’d identified him as Knowles. I’ve passed on every bit of information that could’ve been useful to you, since we started investigating. Haven’t hidden anything.’
‘Except Barnaby’s,’ said Northmore.
‘Just told you: I only found out what Barnaby’s is this evening.’
‘How much information has DCI Ryan Murphy been feeding you?’ asked Northmore.
Out of the corner of his eye, Strike saw a stiffening of Iverson’s expression. He was surprised they’d named Murphy, on tape. Could the man be under some kind of cloud? Might he even be under investigation?
‘Zero,’ said Strike.
‘Nothing’s been let slip during bedroom talk?’ said Northmore.
‘Haven’t shagged him yet,’ said Strike. ‘Playing hard to get.’
Iverson let out a slight gasp that might’ve been a suppressed laugh.
‘Murphy’s never shared confidential information with me, and to my knowledge he’s never shared it with my partner, either,’ said Strike.
‘You’ve had no scruples about illicitly procuring evidence from our team,’ said Northmore.
‘If you’re talking about the photos of the body, Cochran did that on her own initiative,’ said Strike, ‘and she’s now left our agency.’
‘Yeah? Why’s that? Doesn’t like the way you conduct business?’
Suspecting this was an allusion to the recent newspaper stories about his dealings with women, Strike chose not to answer.
‘Were you surprised to find Jim Todd dead tonight, Mr Strike?’ asked Iverson.
‘I was, yeah,’ said Strike. ‘I went there to try and get his contact details out of his mother, if she had them. I didn’t know he was staying with her.’
‘What made you so interested in Todd?’
‘I think he was the one who helped William Wright get the job at Ramsay Silver.’
He had the impression that this answer wasn’t a surprise to Iverson and surmised that the silver vault murder team, too, might have reached that conclusion.
‘What d’you know about Jim Todd’s movements on the seventeenth of June?’ asked Iverson.
‘Not much,’ said Strike.
‘Would you happen to know why he went to Dalston?’
Strike’s interest sharpened considerably.
‘I’d imagine,’ he said, guessing that the Met had been poring over more CCTV footage, ‘he was meeting Larry McGee.’
The impassive expressions facing him seemed to indicate that this was the police’s conclusion, too, but Iverson said,
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Because two blokes connected to the Murdoch silver heading out to Dalston, where they had no known reason to be, around the same time’ (Strike couldn’t be sure it had been at the same time, but was now probing) ‘seems highly coincidental.’
By the lack of pushback, he surmised that McGee and Todd had indeed converged in Dalston at the same time.
‘What d’you know about McGee and Todd’s relationship?’ asked Iverson.