Robin’s inner reverie was disturbing in a different way. While she stood by what she’d just said to her partner, she was uncomfortably aware (not that she intended to admit this) that she’d subconsciously wanted to force an argument. A small part of her had sought to disrupt the pleasure and ease she’d felt on finding herself back in the Land Rover with Strike, because she’d just told Murphy she loved him, and shouldn’t be feeling unalloyed pleasure at the prospect of hours on the road with somebody else. Nor should she be thinking about the man she supposedly loved with guilt and discomfort…
The silence in the car lasted a full half an hour, until Robin, resenting the fact that she was the one to have to break the ice, but ashamed of the hidden motive that had led her to become so heated, said,
‘Look, I’m sorry I got shirty. I’m just – I’m probably more on Flora’s side than you are because—’
‘I get it,’ said Strike, relieved that she’d spoken. ‘No, I don’t mean – I know I haven’t been in the Retreat Rooms.’
‘No, I can’t see Taio wanting to spirit bond with you,’ said Robin, but the mental image of Taio trying to lead Strike, who was considerably larger, towards one of the wooden cabins made her laugh.
‘No need to be offensive,’ said Strike, reaching for the coffee again. ‘We might’ve had a beautiful thing together if I hadn’t brained him with those wire cutters.’
‘Shit,’ said Strike.
A little over two hours after he and Robin had resolved their argument, they’d arrived in Oakleaze Road, Thornbury, to find Carrie Curtis Woods’ residence empty. The modest but well-maintained semi-detached house, which shared a patch of unfenced lawn with its Siamese twin, was almost indistinguishable from every other house within view, except for slight variations in the style of front door.
‘And no car,’ said Strike, looking at the empty drive. ‘But they’re definitely back from holiday, I checked her Facebook page before I left this morning. She documents virtually every movement the family makes.’
‘Maybe she’s gone grocery shopping, if they’re just back from abroad?’
‘Maybe,’ said Strike, ‘but I think we might make ourselves a bit conspicuous if we hang around here for too long. Bit open plan. You won’t get away with much in a place like this.’
There were windows everywhere he looked, and the flat lawns in front of all the houses offered no hint of cover. The ancient Land Rover also looked conspicuous, among all the family cars.
‘What d’you say we go and get something to eat and come back in an hour or so?’
So they returned to the car and set off again.
The town was small, and they reached the High Street in minutes. There was less uniformity here, with shops and pubs of varying sizes, some of them painted in pastel colours or bearing old-fashioned awnings. Robin finally parked outside the Malthouse pub. The interior proved to be roomy, modern and white-walled, with grey checked carpet and chairs.
‘Too early for lunch,’ said Strike gloomily, returning from the bar with two packets of peanuts, a zero-alcohol beer for himself and a tomato juice for Robin, who was sitting in a bay window overlooking the high street.
‘Never mind,’ she said, ‘check your phone. Barclay’s just texted us.’
Strike sat down and took out his mobile. Their subcontractor had sent everyone at the agency a one-word message: SHAFTED, with a link to a news story, which Strike opened.
Robin started laughing again as she saw her partner’s expression change to one of pure glee. The news story, which was brief, was headed: BREAKING: TABLOID’S FAVOURITE PRIVATE EYE ARRESTED.
Strike let out a laugh so loud that heads turned.
‘Fucking excellent,’ he said. ‘Now I can sack Littlejohn.’
‘Not in here,’ said Robin.
‘No,’ agreed Strike, glancing around, ‘not very discreet. There’s a beer garden, let’s do it there.’
‘Is my presence necessary?’ said Robin, smiling, but she was already gathering up her glass, peanuts and bag.
‘Killjoy,’ said Strike, as they set off through the pub. ‘Barclay would’ve paid good money to hear this.’
Once seated on benches at a brown painted table, Strike called Littlejohn and switched his mobile to speakerphone again.
