to have approved of the boyfriend.”

“So that’s why she never came forward, afterward?” said Robin.

“I suppose so,” said Kim. “Poor girl. I hope she was OK.”

“May I ask,” said Roy, looking at Strike, “how strong you think the case against Janice Beattie is? Because—I don’t know what your police contacts have told you—but the latest we’ve heard is that forensics haven’t been able to prove Margot was drugged.”

“Not so far,” said Strike, who’d spoken to George Layborn the previous evening, “but I’ve heard they’re going to try some new-fangled way of getting traces of drugs and chemicals out of the concrete surrounding the body. No guarantees, but it was used successfully in a case in the States recently.”

“But if they can’t prove she was drugged,” said Roy, his expression intense, “the case against Janice is entirely circumstantial, isn’t it?”

“Her lawyer’s certainly trying to get her off, judging by his comments to the press,” said Kim.

“He’ll have his work cut out for him,” said Strike. “The defense has got to come up with reasons the police found a phone belonging to a non-existent social worker in her house, and why the Athorns had the number. The Athorns’ cousins in Leeds can identify her as the woman who helped them muck out the flat. Gloria Conti’s willing to come over to testify about the doughnut in the fridge and the vomiting attacks she and Wilma suffered, and Douthwaite’s going to take the stand—”

“He is?” said Oonagh, her expression clearing. “Oh, that’s good, we’ve been worried about him—”

“I think he finally realizes the only way out of this is going through with it,” said Strike. “He’s ready to testify that from the moment he started eating food prepared by Janice, he had symptoms of poisoning, and, most importantly, that during their last consultation, Margot advised him not to eat anything else prepared by Janice.

“Then we’ve got Kevin Beattie testifying that his daughter drank bleach while Janice was supposedly looking after her, and that his mother used to feed him ‘special drinks’ that made him feel ill… What else?” said Strike, inviting Robin to continue, mainly so he could eat some cake.

“Well, there are all the lethal substances they’ve taken out of Janice’s kitchen,” said Robin, “not to mention the fact that she tried to poison Cormoran’s tea when he went round there to confront her. There’s also the drugged food the police have found at Irene’s, and the framed photographs on her wall, including Joanna Hammond, who she claimed never to have met, and Julie Wilkes, who drowned at the Clacton-on-Sea Butlin’s. And the police are confident they’re going to be able to get forensic evidence out of other victims’ graves, even if Margot’s results are inconclusive. Janice had her ex-partner, Larry, cremated, but his lover Clare was buried and she’s being exhumed.”

“Personally,” said Strike, who’d managed to eat half his slice of chocolate cake while Robin was talking, “I think she’s going to die in jail.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” said Roy, looking relieved, and Cynthia said breathlessly,

“Yes, no, definitely.”

The cat at the window looked around and then, slowly, turned to face the rain again, while its twin pawed idly at Strike’s sweater.

“You two will come to the funeral, won’t you?” asked Anna.

“We’d be honored,” said Robin, because Strike had just taken another big mouthful of cake.

“We’re, ah, leaving the arrangements up to Anna,” said Roy. “She’s taking the lead.”

“I’d like Mum to have a proper grave,” said Anna. “Somewhere to visit, you know… all these years, without knowing where she is. I want her where I can find her.”

“I can understand that,” said Strike.

“You really don’t know what you’ve given me,” said Anna, for the third time. She’d reached out a hand to Oonagh, but she was looking at Cynthia. “I’ve got Oonagh, now, as well as Cyn, who’s been the most wonderful mother… Mum certainly chose the right person to raise me…”

As Cynthia’s face crumpled, Strike and Robin both looked tactfully away, Robin at the cat at the window and Strike at the seascape over the mantelpiece. The rain drummed against the window, the cat in his lap purred, and he remembered the lily urn bobbing away. With a twist in his chest, and in spite of his satisfaction at having done what he’d set out to do, he wished he could have called Joan, and told her the end of Margot Bamborough’s story, and heard her say she was proud of him, one last time.

73

For naturall affection soone doth cesse,

And quenched is with Cupids greater flame:

But faithfull friendship doth them both suppresse,

And them with maystring discipline doth tame,

Through thoughts aspyring to eternall fame.

For as the soule doth rule the earthly masse,

And all the seruice of the bodie frame,

So loue of soule doth loue of bodie passe,

No lesse then perfect gold surmounts the meanest brasse.

Edmund Spenser

The Faerie Queene

Robin woke a few days later to autumn sunshine streaming through the gap in her curtains. Glancing at her mobile, she saw to her amazement that it was ten in the morning, which meant she’d just enjoyed the longest sleep she’d had all year. Then she remembered why she was having a lie-in: today was the ninth of October, and it was her birthday.

Ilsa had arranged a dinner in her honor the following evening, which was a Friday. Ilsa had chosen and booked the smart restaurant, to which she and Nick, Vanessa and her fiancé Oliver, Barclay, Hutchins and their wives, Max, his new boyfriend (the lighting director on his TV show) and Strike were all invited. Robin had no plans for today, her actual birthday, which Strike had insisted she take off. She now sat up in bed, yawning, and looked at the packages lying on her chest of drawers opposite, which were all from her family. The small package from her mother had the appearance of a piece of jewelry, doubtless in tribute to this milestone birthday. Just as she was about to get out of bed, her

Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату