Strike now told the story of Emily’s aborted escape attempt in Norwich.
‘It would mean more costs, I’m afraid,’ Strike said, ‘but I suggest putting one of our people in Norwich, to attempt a direct approach to Emily the next time she goes out collecting money for the church. Robin’s given us a good physical description. She and Emily struck up a rapport in there and I think, if one of our operatives mentions Robin, Emily might be persuaded to leave with them.’
‘Yes, I’d be happy for you to try that,’ said Sir Colin, whose virtually untouched pie was growing cold in front of him. ‘I’d feel as though I were doing something for Kevin, if I helped his sister get out… well,’ said Sir Colin, who was clearly shaken but trying to focus on the positive, ‘your partner’s done an astounding job. She’s achieved more in four months than Pattersons managed in eighteen.’
‘I’ll tell her you said that. It’ll mean a lot to her.’
‘She couldn’t come to lunch?’ asked Sir Colin.
‘No,’ said Strike. ‘I want her to take some time off. She went through a lot in there.’
‘But you wouldn’t want her to testify,’ said Sir Colin, with no hint of a question in his voice. It was a relief to Strike to have an intelligent client, for a change.
‘Not as things stand. The church’s lawyers would have a field day with Robin’s lack of impartiality, given that she was paid to go in there and gather dirt on them. The culture of fear in the church is such that I think they’d close ranks and terrify anyone at Chapman Farm who could back up her account. If she starts talking about supernatural events and torture techniques without corroboration—’
‘Torture techniques?’
‘She was shut up in a box for eight hours, unable to move out of a bent kneeling position.’
As far as Strike could tell in the flattering, diffused lighting, Sir Colin now turned rather pale.
‘Kevin told me he was tied to trees at night and so on, but he never mentioned being locked in a box.’
‘I think it’s reserved for the very worst transgressions,’ said Strike, choosing not to tell Sir Colin that his son, too, had been subjected to the punishment.
He now hesitated, considering how best to frame what he wanted to say next. He was loath to ruin the very slight sense of hope he’d induced in his client, and only too aware that Sir Colin had already committed to tripling the fees he was paying the agency.
‘Robin’s leads have definitely put us in a far better position than we were in,’ he said. ‘If we’re lucky, and we get Lin and Emily out, and they’re prepared to talk, and if there’s a police investigation into Jacob, we’ll definitely land a few heavy punches on the church.’
‘But those are significant “ifs”,’ said Sir Colin.
‘Right,’ said Strike. ‘We’ve got to be realistic. The Waces are adept at batting off critics. They could choose a few scapegoats to take the blame for everything Robin, Lin and Emily allege – and that’s assuming the other two are prepared to testify. They might not be up to taking the stand against a church that’s intimidated and coerced them for most of their lives.’
‘No,’ said Edensor, ‘I can see we’d better not count our chickens yet.’
‘I keep going back to something Wace’s eldest daughter said to me,’ said Strike. ‘Words to the effect of “It’s like cancer. You’ve got to cut the whole thing out, or you’ll be back where you started.”’
‘But how do you cut out something that’s metastasised across continents?’
‘Well,’ said Strike, ‘there might be a way. Did Kevin ever talk to you in any depth about Daiyu?’
‘Daiyu?’ said Sir Colin, looking puzzled. ‘Oh, you mean the Drowned Prophet? No more than he put in the blog and emails I gave you. Why?’
‘Because the one sure-fire way of bringing down the church would be to dismantle the myth of the Drowned Prophet. If we could smash the central pillar of their whole belief system—’
‘That’s surely rather ambitious?’ said Sir Colin. As Strike had feared, he now looked slightly mistrustful.
‘I’ve been looking into what actually happened on that beach in Cromer and I’ve got a lot of questions. I’ve now tracked down the key witness: Cherie Gittins, the woman who took Daiyu to the beach where she drowned. I’m hoping to interview her shortly. And then we’ve got Kevin’s murder.’
At that moment, the waiter came to collect their plates and offer the pudding menu. Both men declined, but asked for coffee.
‘What about Kevin’s murder?’ said Sir Colin, when the waiter had gone.
‘I’m afraid,’ said Strike, ‘I think it far more likely that the UHC had Kevin killed, than that he was dealing drugs.’
‘But—’
‘Initially, I was of your opinion. I couldn’t see why they’d need to shoot him. They’ve got excellent lawyers and he was undoubtedly unstable and easy to discredit. But the longer the investigation’s gone on, the less I’ve bought the drug-dealing theory.’
‘Why? What have you found out?’
