Becca was now looking at him with a little smile, as though she’d seen many like him before. A muscle flickered at the scarred corner of Zhou’s mouth. Joe Jackson had folded his long arms, looking down at Strike with a slight frown. Mazu was so motionless, the screen might have frozen.
‘Now, I’m the first to admit, I wouldn’t be any good at what you do, Jonathan,’ said Strike. ‘But you seem to think you’ve got a flair for my game.’
‘What does that mean?’ said Wace, with a puzzled smile.
‘Surveillance of our office. Tailing us by car.’
‘Cormoran,’ said Wace slowly, ‘I can’t tell whether you know you’re inventing things, or not.’
‘As I say,’ said Strike, ‘it’s all about diversifying from the core brand. You’re top notch at picking out people who’re happy to be sucked dry of all their worldly goods, or slave on the farm for no wages, but less good, if you don’t mind me saying, at picking people to stake out premises, or follow targets discreetly. Bright red Vauxhall Corsas aren’t discreet. Unless you meant to let us know what you’re up to, I’m here to tell you: this isn’t your forte. You can’t just pick some random guy who’s fucked up this year’s carrot crop to stand opposite my office, staring up at the windows.’
‘Cormoran, we’re not watching you,’ said Wace, smiling. ‘If these things have indeed happened, you must have offended someone who takes a less tolerant view of your activities than we do. We choose – like the Buddha—’
‘The bullet through Kevin Pirbright’s brain was shot in non-anger, was it?’
‘I’m afraid I have no idea what emotions Kevin was feeling when he shot himself.’
‘Any interest in who murdered your brother?’ Strike said, turning to Becca.
‘What you don’t perhaps realise, Mr Strike, is that Kevin had a guilty conscience,’ said Becca sweetly. ‘I forgive him for what he did to me, but apparently he couldn’t forgive himself.’
‘How d’you choose the people making the phone calls?’ Strike said, looking back at Wace. ‘Obviously, a woman had to pretend to be Reaney’s wife to persuade the authorities to let the call through, but who spoke to him once he’d picked up? You?’
‘I have
‘Jordan Reaney. Overslept the morning he was supposed to be on the vegetable run, conveniently leaving room for Daiyu in the front of the truck.’ Out of the corner of his eye, Strike saw the smile vanish from Becca’s face. ‘Currently in jail. Got a call after I interviewed him, which appears to have precipitated a suicide attempt.’
‘This all sounds very upsetting and unfortunate and more than a little strange,’ said Wace, ‘but I promise you, I don’t have the slightest knowledge about any phone calls to any prison.’
‘You remember Cherie Gittins, of course?’
‘I’m hardly likely to forget her,’ said Wace quietly.
‘Why were you so careful to keep track of her, after she left?’
‘We did no such thing.’
Strike turned again to Becca, and he gained some satisfaction from her sudden look of panic.
‘Miss Pirbright here knows Cherie had daughters. She told the police so. Volunteered the information, for some reason. Went right off script, talking about how what seems devilish may, in fact, be divine.’
Some women blush becomingly, but Becca wasn’t one of them. She turned a purplish red. In the short silence that followed, both Noli Seymour and Joe Jackson turned their heads to look at Becca.
‘How many important religious figures would you say end up hanged?’ asked Strike. ‘Offhand, I can only think of Judas.’
‘Cherie wasn’t hanged,’ said Becca. Her eyes flickered towards Wace as she said it.
‘Do you mean that in a metaphysical sense?’ asked Strike. ‘Same as Daiyu didn’t really drown, but dissolved into pure spirit?’
‘Papa J,’ said Jackson unexpectedly, pushing himself off the wall, ‘I wonder whether there’s much point—?’
‘Thank you, Joe,’ said Wace quietly, and Jackson fell immediately back into line.
‘Now,
The door behind Strike opened. He glanced round. Taio entered the room, large, greasy-haired, rat-faced and dressed in a UHC tracksuit that strained across his belly. On seeing Strike, he stopped dead.
‘Cormoran’s here at my invitation, Taio,’ said Wace, smiling. ‘Join us.’
‘How’s the head?’ said Strike, as Taio took up a standing position beside Jackson. ‘Need stitches at all?’
‘We were talking about Cherie,’ said Wace, again addressing Strike. ‘As a matter of fact – I know this may be hard for you to understand – Becca’s perfectly right in what she said: Cherie played a divine role, a necessarily difficult role, in the ascension of Daiyu as a prophet. If she has indeed hanged herself, that, too, may have been ordained.’
‘You’ll be hanging up a second thrashing straw figure in temple to celebrate, will you?’
