The Running Grave полностью

‘I’m having everything,’ said Strike, as they headed to the counter. ‘You?’

‘Um – Big Mac and—’

‘Oh, shit, what now?’ growled Strike, as his mobile rang. Answering, he heard Midge’s voice and a car engine.

‘I think they’re moving Lin. Tasha saw two men going into the office this afternoon. They were shown into the annexe, came out, left again. She didn’t realise at the time they were police, because they were plainclothes – they drove in right past me, I should’ve realised they were cops, but honestly, they were both that well groomed, I thought they might be a gay couple having a getaway. I’ve been living in this car for the last three days and I’m knackered,’ she added defensively.

‘I know the feeling,’ said Strike, watching Robin order.

‘Next thing, Tasha’s called in to see Zhou. “You appear to have lost this, I hope it’s not important.” They’d found the note in the pocket of her robes. She acted innocent, obviously—’

‘Fuck’s sake, what’s happening now?’

‘I’m trying to tell you! Tasha thought she’d better clear out before she gets locked in an annexe too—’

‘I’m not interested in Tasha!’

‘Charming,’ said the actress’s voice in the background.

‘Oh, for—’ said Strike, closing his eyes and running a hand over his face.

‘A plain van came out the front gates of the clinic ten minutes ago. We’re sure Lin’s in there. Three a.m.’s a bloody funny time to be driving vans around. Did I wake you up, by the way?’

‘No,’ said Strike, ‘listen—’

‘So we’re tailing—’

‘BLOODY LISTEN!’

Robin, the McDonald’s servers and the other customers all turned to stare. Strike marched out of the restaurant. Once on the pavement he said,

‘I’m awake because my car just got shot up, with Robin and me in it—’

‘Wh—?’

‘—and my information is the church has got guns, plural. This hour of the morning, it’ll be obvious you’re following that van. Give it up.’

‘But—’

‘You don’t know Lin’s in there. It’s too big a risk. You’ve got a civilian with you – a civilian they know knows too much. Get the number plate, then go home.’

‘But—’

‘Do – not – fucking – argue – with – me,’ said Strike in a dangerous voice. ‘I’ve told you what I want. Fucking do it.’

Seething, he turned back, only to see Robin carrying two large bags of food.

‘Let’s have it in the office,’ she suggested, keen not to draw any more attention to themselves inside the restaurant. ‘It’s only ten minutes up the road. Then we can talk properly.’

‘Fine,’ said Strike irritably, ‘but give me a burger first.’

So they walked through the dark streets towards Denmark Street, Strike telling Robin what Midge had just said between large mouthfuls of burger. He’d already started on a bag of fries before they reached the familiar black door, with its skeleton-key-proof new lock. Once upstairs, Robin unpacked the rest of the food at the partners’ desk. She still felt wide awake.

Strike, who’d soon devoured three burgers and two bags of fries, now started on an apple pie. Like Robin, he felt no desire whatsoever for sleep. The immediate past seemed to compress and extend in his mind: at one moment, the shooting felt as though it had happened a week previously, the next, as though he’d only just felt the heat of the bullet searing his cheek and watched the windscreen shatter.

‘What are you looking at?’ he asked Robin, noticing her slightly glass-eyed stare at the board on the wall behind him.

She seemed to withdraw her attention from a long way away.

‘I didn’t tell you what the third Divine Secret is, did I? The “Living Sacrifice”?’

‘No,’ said Strike.

‘The UHC are child trafficking.’

Strike’s jaws stopped moving.

‘What?’

‘Superfluous babies, mostly boys, are taken to the Birmingham centre where they’re warehoused until they’re sold. It’s an illegal adoption service: babies for cash. Most of them go to America. Your friend Joe Jackson is in charge, apparently. From what Flora said, hundreds of babies must have passed out of the UHC by now.’

‘Holy—’

‘I should’ve realised there was something up, given how much unprotected sex they’re having at Chapman Farm, because there are relatively few kids there, and nearly all of them looked as though they’d been fathered by Jonathan or Taio. Wace keeps his own bloodline and, of course, enough non-related girls to keep providing the church with future generations.’

Momentarily lost for words, Strike swallowed his apple pie and reached for the beer he’d got out of the office fridge.

‘Will knew, because of Lin,’ Robin said. ‘When she got pregnant she was terrified Qing would be sent to Birmingham. Neither of them could understand why she was allowed to stay, so I have to assume Lin doesn’t realise Wace is her father… Strike, I’m really worried about Lin.’

‘Me too,’ said Strike, ‘but Midge couldn’t tail that bloody van through the night, and definitely not with her girlfriend coming along for the jolly.’