‘I think you know more than you’re telling me. I think you know where Rupert is.’
‘I don’t!’ said Albie. ‘Seriously, I don’t!’
‘Then you’re in touch with him.’
Albie pulled his hand free.
‘I’m not!’
She expected him to turn and hurry away, but now that she wasn’t physically restraining him, he seemed pinned to the spot by his own good nature.
‘Look,’ he said, ‘tell Decima – tell her he really loved her.’
Even in the darkness, Robin could see that Albie had turned pink again.
‘If he loved her, why would he walk out and leave her without a word?’
‘Maybe he had no choice,’ said Albie.
‘What does that mean?’
‘I mean, he must’ve had no choice,’ said Albie quickly, ‘because he really
‘Why are you talking in the past tense?’ said Robin. ‘What changed?’
‘Nothing. I mean – he must’ve just decided it wouldn’t work. She’s a lot older and – and everything.’
‘Albie, I think you know more than you’re telling me.’
‘Sometimes you’re better off not knowing things,’ blurted Albie, as though the words had been wrung from him. ‘I’ve got to go. Thanks for the burger.’
He turned and strode away on his long legs, vanishing into the crowds.
Robin watched him disappear, then glanced nervously around. Nobody was watching her; there were no men lurking in the shadows, ready to spring.
She set off in the opposite direction from Albie, keeping an eye out for a vacant taxi, thinking about all Albie had just said, but also checking regularly over her shoulder.
PART THREE
John Oxenham
31
Albert Pike
Strike doubted that MI5 would order an operative to grab Robin round the back of the neck and force a rubber gorilla on her in an attempt to make the agency back off the silver vault investigation, but the question of who was behind the assault was making Strike wonder exactly which of the hornets’ nests the agency seemed, unwittingly, to have kicked was responsible. He was particularly worried by the fact that Robin’s assailant had known exactly where to find her, and had seized the opportunity to attack where he was least likely to be seen, which suggested that he’d been tailing her for a while, without her noticing.
This thought had occurred to Robin, too. When she and Strike spoke the following morning by phone, she admitted her fear that the man had been following her for hours.
‘Anyone could miss a tail in Christmas crowds in the middle of London,’ said Strike, keen to keep on Robin’s right side, in spite of his own concern.
‘I know,’ said Robin, ‘but I still feel stupid. I won’t make that mistake again.’
‘I think we have to take that anonymous phone call to the office a bit more seriously now,’ said Strike.
‘“Leave it and you won’t get hurt?”’
‘Exactly.’
‘So “it”’s definitely the silver vault body?’
‘My gut says so.’ Strike vacillated before saying the next thing, well aware of how sensitive a subject it was, yet certain it had to be mentioned. ‘I can’t see how he knew—’
‘That I was Witness G at the rape trial?’ said Robin, who’d steeled herself to discuss this.
‘Yeah.’
‘I think I do,’ said Robin. ‘It’s online. I found out last night.’
‘Shit,’ said Strike. ‘How—?’
‘Local gossip, maybe,’ said Robin, trying to sound unconcerned, although, in fact, when she’d found her name on the website the previous evening it had made her feel physically sick. ‘People in Masham knew what had happened. Friends and family, after I left uni. Anyway, I found it in the comments under – well, it was actually in the comments of that article about you. Some anonymous person said they don’t understand how I can work with you, because I was a victim of a high-profile rapist myself.’
‘Oh Christ,’ said Strike. ‘I’m—’
‘Don’t apologise,’ said Robin flatly. ‘It’s not your fault.’
Strike was reluctant to voice his next opinion, but even if it led to a row, he decided it had to be said.
‘I’m serious about you keeping me posted on where you are. No lonely streets in the dark, on your own. Someone might’ve decided you’re the soft target.’