Barely noticing what he was eating, Strike’s eyes roamed over the chattering lunchers, the stained-glass windows and tasteful grey upholstery. Between Bijou and her QC lover, and Charlotte’s alleged assault of a billionaire, his name was appearing a little too frequently in the press for his liking. He picked up the glasses concealing the hidden camera, and rammed them back on.
‘Excuse me.’
He looked up. It was the woman in black, who’d stopped at his table on her way out.
‘You aren’t Corm—?’
‘No, sorry, you must have me confused with someone,’ he said, drowning out her voice, which was fairly loud. His target and her young friend seemed too immersed in their conversion to have noticed anything, but a couple of other heads had turned.
‘I’m sorry, I thought I recognised—’
‘You’re mistaken.’
She was blocking his view of his target.
‘Sorry,’ she said again, smiling. ‘But you do look awfully—’
‘You’re mistaken,’ he repeated firmly.
She pressed her lips together, but her eyes looked amused as she passed out of the restaurant.
On Friday night Robin waited until the women around her had fallen asleep before slipping out of the dormitory yet again. Tonight she was more nervous and stressed than she’d been since the very first time she’d journeyed through the dark to the plastic rock in the woods, because she was twenty-four hours late in producing her letter, so felt an increased pressure to reassure the agency that she was all right. She climbed over the five-bar gate as usual, hurried across the dark field and entered the woods.
Inside the plastic rock she found two Yorkie bars and letters from Strike, Murphy and Shah. She read the three men’s letters by the light of the pencil torch. Ryan’s was essentially a thinly veiled request to know when she’d be leaving Chapman Farm. Strike’s told her he’d soon be interviewing the Heatons, who’d met Cherie Gittins on the beach in the immediate aftermath of Daiyu’s drowning.
Shah’s note read:
I checked the rock last night and I’m still in the vicinity. Strike says if there’s nothing by midnight tomorrow he’s driving up and he’ll come in the front on Sunday.
‘For God’s sake, Strike,’ muttered Robin, pulling the top off the biro with her teeth. One day’s delay didn’t seem to justify such extreme measures. Hungry as she was, she had far more to write than usual, so she postponed eating the chocolate, instead taking out the paper and pen, putting the torch between her teeth and setting to work.
Hi Cormoran,
I’m sorry this is late, it was unavoidable, I’ll explain why below. A LOT has happened this week, so I hope this pen doesn’t run out.
1. Row between the Pirbright sisters
I overheard Emily accusing Becca of lying about Daiyu’s drowning. Emily seems really unhappy and I think if I can get friendly with her she might talk. Becca also accused Emily of collaborating with Kevin on his book, because of the writing on Kevin Pirbright’s walls – Becca’s seen the photo of his room.
NB: Apparently nobody’s told Emily Kevin was murdered. She thinks he committed suicide. Not sure whether Becca knows the truth.
2. Stolen Prophet’s Manifestation
This happened Weds night. Mazu led the service, telling us all about Alexander Graves and how he went to live at Chapman Farm because of his abusive family. A huge straw man, bigger than life size, was standing in the middle on a raised platform in a spotlight and
Robin now stopped writing. She hadn’t had time to fully process what had happened in the temple and with her fingers numb with cold she doubted she could convey to Strike just how frightening the Manifestation had been: the pitch darkness pierced by two spotlights, one trained on Mazu, in her blood red robes, the mother-of-pearl fish gleaming on its cord around her neck, the other on that towering straw figure. Mazu had commanded the straw figure to give proof that the Stolen Prophet lived on in the spirit world, and a hoarse shout had issued from the figure, echoing around the temple walls:
Robin resumed her letter.
when Mazu told it to, the figure spoke and lifted its arms. I saw it when they were building it: it was just a wire frame covered in straw, so how they made it move I don’t know. Mazu said the Prophet died to show members how vulnerable pure spirits are when they’re exposed to materialist wickedness again. Then a noose came snaking down from the ceiling
Robin saw it all again as she wrote: the thick rope snaking down out of the darkness, the noose falling around the figure’s neck, then tightening.
