Page 247 of The Hallmarked Man

‘Ah,’ said Robin, still scribbling.

‘—and drives the car to Newham.’

Though she gave no outward sign, Robin felt an inward shiver. If the murder investigation team had disbelieved Mandy at first, they must have changed their minds now. Aloud, she asked,

‘Did it go to St George’s Avenue in Newham?’

‘I don’t know, maybe. Then it’s spotted in Holborn, late at night. Blonde back at the wheel. Shortly after three a.m., it picks up aman from the end of Wild Court. The couple drive off through camera-free areas again but they’re caught briefly back on film in Newham,’ (yes, thought Robin, the police would definitely have changed their minds about Mandy’s story now) ‘round five in the morning, then head off towards Orpington in the direction of Petts Wood, where they’re lost from sight again, but put the original plates back on. The car reappears on the M4, and the blonde returns the car to the Reading hire place in good nick. She’s just visible on the edge of the car park camera, getting into a van afterwards, but the plates aren’t visible. Van leaves – and if they know what happened next, my contact hasn’t told me.’

‘What make was the van?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Has anyone searched Petts Wood for the silver?’

‘Probably, I’m not sure.’

‘Is your contact the same woman who—?’

‘The one I spoke to before, yeah.’

‘She didn’t try and seduce you in return for the info, did she?’

Robin said it because she knew it would give pleasure. He grinned.

‘You’ve got no competition there, trust me. What happened in the pub that night – she was there. That was it. She was just – there.’

Reminded of Strike and Nina Lascelles, Robin drank more wine, then said,

‘Thanks, Ryan. I really appreciate this.’

‘No bother,’ said Murphy. ‘So, we should have the survey back tomorrow.’

‘Survey?’ said Robin blankly, and then, ‘Oh, on the house, yes, of course.’

‘It’d better not have bloody dry rot.’

‘It looked in really good repair,’ said Robin. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

They talked about the house until their food arrived, at which point Murphy sipped his pint, then lowered his voice again.

‘So, listen… I don’t need an answer or anything tonight, all right? There’s no pressure. I’m just trying to learn from my mistakes.’

‘What mis—?’

‘I should’ve had a conversation with Lizzie, before we got married. About kids.’

Robin suffered a plummeting sensation in her stomach.

‘I mean, seeing as we’re moving in together and everything,’ saidMurphy. ‘I just want to know what you’re thinking. After what happened.’

An unpleasant thought flashed through Robin’s head: that he’d just given her the intel on the Peugeot to soften her up for this conversation; that he thought receipt of information would make her more willing to talk about frozen eggs.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘Well, I… don’t know. That’s the truth. I just don’t know.’

Murphy looked expectant, so Robin said,

‘I used to think I wanted children. Or maybe I just expected to have them, I don’t know. Then I got this job, which I love more than any – well, I don’t love it more than you,’ she said hastily, because that was what you had to say, wasn’t it, sitting opposite the man you were going to live with? ‘But I can’t imagine doing this job and trying to raise a family, with the hours and the stress and – not the risk, I’m not looking for risk,’ said Robin, her homemade pepper spray in her bag, the masonic dagger hidden in her sock drawer, ‘but yes, I’d probably be more risk-averse if I had children, too… maybe there’ll come a time when I do really want kids, but I – I can’t guarantee that. I can’t promise it’ll happen. I just don’t know. So if it’s a deal-breaker…’