The Running Grave полностью

Robin took a step forwards. She needed to get closer to Mazu than a rifle barrel’s length, if she was to have any chance of not getting shot.

‘If you make an act of penitence now, Robin –’ This was the first time Mazu had ever used her real name, and Robin resented it, as though Mazu had somehow made it dirty, by having it in her mouth ‘– and as long as it’s given in a true spirit of humility, I’ll accept it.’ The dark, crooked eyes glinted like onyx in the gloom of the room. ‘I’d advise you to do so. Much worse will happen if you don’t.’

‘You want me to kiss your feet again?’ said Robin, forcing herself to sound contemptuous rather than scared. ‘Then what? You’ll drop the child abuse charges?’

Mazu laughed. Robin had never heard her do so before, even during the joyful meditation; a harsh caw erupted from her mouth, all pretence at refinement gone.

‘You think that’s the worst that can happen to you? Daiyu will come for you.’

‘You’re insane. Literally insane. There is no Drowned Prophet.’

‘You’ll find out your mistake,’ said Mazu, smiling. ‘She’s never liked you, Robin. She knew all along what you were. Her vengeance will be—’

‘Her vengeance will be non-existent, because she isn’t real,’ said Robin quietly. ‘Your husband lied to you. Daiyu never drowned.’

The smile vanished from Mazu’s face as though it had been slapped off. Robin was close enough now to smell the incense perfume that didn’t mask her unwashed smell.

‘Daiyu never went to the sea,’ said Robin, advancing inch by inch. ‘Never went to the beach. It was all bullshit. The reason her body never washed up is because it was never there.’

‘You are filth,’ breathed Mazu.

‘Should’ve kept a closer eye on her, shouldn’t you?’ said Robin quietly. ‘And I think you know that, deep down. You know you were a lousy mother to her.’

Mazu’s face was so pale, it was impossible to know whether she’d lost colour, but the crooked eyes had narrowed as her thin chest rose and fell.

‘I suppose that’s why you wanted a real Chinese baby girl of your own, isn’t it? To see whether you can do any better on a second att—?’

Mazu wheeled round and snatched up the gun, but Robin was ready: she seized Mazu around the neck from behind while trying to force her to drop the rifle, but it was like wrestling with an animal: Mazu had a brute strength that belied her age and size, and Robin felt as much revulsion as rage as they struggled, now terrified for the baby, in case the gun fired accidentally.

Mazu twisted one bare foot around Robin’s leg and succeeded in toppling both of them, but Robin still had her in a tight grip, refusing to let her pull free or far enough away to shoot. With every ounce of her strength, Robin managed to flip the older woman over onto her back and straddled her as they both struggled for possession of the rifle. A torrent of filthy curses issued from Mazu’s lips; Robin was a whore, trash, a demon, a slut, filth, shit—

Over the screams of Yixin, Robin heard her name shouted from somewhere inside the building.

‘HERE!’ she bellowed. ‘MIDGE, I’M HERE!’

Mazu forced the rifle upwards, catching Robin on the chin, and Robin drove it back down, hard, on the woman’s face.

‘ROBIN?’

‘HERE!’

The gun went off; the bullet shattered the window and blew out the lamp outside. Robin heard screams from Wardour Street; for a second time, she rammed the rifle down on Mazu’s face, and as blood spurted from the woman’s nose, Mazu’s grip loosened and Robin succeeded in wrenching the gun from her grasp.

The door banged open as Mazu raised her hands to her bleeding nose.

‘Jesus Christ!’ shouted Midge.

Panting, Robin scrambled off Mazu, holding the rifle. Only now did she realise she was holding part of the black cord of Mazu’s pendant in her hand. The mother-of-pearl fish lay broken on the floor.

Behind Midge, holding two Boots bags, was Becca Pirbright. Aghast, she looked from Mazu, whose hands were clasped to the nose Robin sincerely hoped she’d broken, to Robin, and back again.

‘Violence, Mazu?’ whispered Becca. ‘In the temple?’

Robin, who was still holding the rifle, let out a genuine laugh. Becca stared at her.

‘Can someone do something about that baby?’ said Midge loudly.

‘You do it,’ Robin told Becca, pointing the rifle at her.

‘You’re threatening to shoot me?’ said Becca, dropping the bags and moving to the carry cot. She scooped up the screaming Yixin and tried to soothe her, without much success.

‘I’m calling 999,’ said Midge, phone in hand.

‘Not yet,’ said Robin. ‘Just cover the door.’

‘Well, I’m telling Strike you’re all right, at least,’ said Midge, rapidly texting. ‘He’s not happy you came in here without back-up.’

Robin now looked Becca in the eye.

‘It was you I came for.’

‘What d’you mean, “came for”?’ said Becca.