‘And our father is Ainsley Gosling?’

Nightingale nodded again.

She sneered at him. ‘This is a joke, right?’

‘It’s deadly serious.’

‘No, you don’t get it,’ she said. ‘Our father was Gosling, you’re Nightingale and I’m Robyn. What’s with the bird thing?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Nightingale. ‘Coincidence maybe.’

‘There are no coincidences,’ said Robyn emphatically. ‘Everything is connected.’

‘That’s a philosophy all right,’ said Nightingale. ‘But I don’t think there’s a reason we’ve all ended up with birds’ names.’

‘I bet you’re wrong,’ she said. ‘And, if it’s true, why did this Gosling have us both adopted? And why did he put us with different families?’

‘That’s where it gets complicated,’ said Nightingale. ‘But can I ask you something first?’

Robyn shrugged. ‘Sure.’

‘Your parents. Do you still see them?’

‘After what I did?’ She snorted contemptuously. ‘They wanted nothing to do with me.’

‘But they’re still alive?’

‘Allegedly.’

Nightingale grinned.

‘What’s so funny?’ she snapped.

‘I say that a lot,’ said Nightingale.

‘Say what?’

‘Allegedly.’

‘Yeah?’

Nightingale nodded and retrieved his pack of Marlboro from his raincoat pocket. ‘Can we smoke in here?’

Robyn shook her head. ‘They say we’re a hospital and not a prison so we can’t smoke. Some of the inmates went to the High Court a few years ago to fight it but they lost.’ She smiled slyly. ‘But rules are meant to be broken, right?’ She looked over at the guard. ‘Miss Boyle, would it be all right if my brother and I have a cigarette?’

The guard wagged a finger at her. ‘It’s against the rules, Robyn, you know that.’

‘Oh come on, Miss Boyle. You think we don’t know that you sneak into the Ladies for a quick smoke in the afternoon? Go one, one smoker to another. Pretty please.’

The guard laughed and shook her head. ‘You’re a bad girl, Robyn. Go on, then, just the one. But if anyone comes in I’ll have to put you on report.’

‘Thanks, Miss Boyle,’ said Robyn. She winked at Nightingale. ‘They’re okay in here really,’ she said.

Nightingale chuckled, tapped out a cigarette for her and one for himself. He took out his lighter and lit them both, then he offered the pack to the guard but she waved him away.

‘More than my job’s worth,’ she said. ‘But thanks anyway.’

Nightingale put the packet away. ‘That was nice of her,’ he said quietly. ‘She didn’t have to do that.’

‘We’re all human beings trying to get through life as best we can, Jack,’ said Robyn. She blew a perfect smoke ring up at the ceiling. ‘What about your parents?’ she asked.

‘Dead,’ said Nightingale. ‘Car crash while I was at university.’

‘University? You a smart guy, Jack?’

He grinned. ‘Allegedly.’ He took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘Was it because of the court case that your parents cut you off?’

Robyn shook her said. ‘The rot had set in long before then,’ she said.

‘What was the problem? Were you a difficult kid?’

‘I wasn’t the problem,’ she said, and shook her head again. ‘My mum was all right; my dad was a bastard.’

‘Bastard in what way?’

She scowled. ‘Screwed me on my sixteenth birthday — does that count?’

‘Yeah, that counts.’

‘At least he waited until I was legal,’ said Robyn. ‘Did me on my sixteenth birthday while Mum was at the shops, and tried again two days later. I stuck a knife in him and got on a train to London.’ She shivered and took a long pull on her cigarette. ‘I guess me being adopted explains a lot. Wasn’t incest, wasn’t paedophilia; it was plain old rape.’

‘You never suspected they weren’t your real parents?’

She shook her head fiercely. ‘I used to dream that I was really a princess and that my parents were the king and queen of some faraway country and that one day they would come for me, but that’s not how it turned out.’ She flicked ash onto the floor. ‘I don’t suppose my genetic father was a king, was he?’

‘Not exactly, no,’ said Nightingale.

‘So who was he, this Ainsley Gosling?’

‘It’s a long story, Robyn.’

She laughed harshly. ‘Jack, time is the one thing I have plenty of right now.’

39

R obyn sat back, her hands on the table. ‘You are shitting me,’ she said. ‘You’re trying to run some sort of con on me.’ She looked over at the guard, who was still leaning against the drinks vending machine, out of earshot. ‘I can’t believe they let you in here.’

‘It’s God’s truth,’ said Nightingale, leaning towards her. ‘Though I guess that’s not exactly appropriate under the circumstances.’

‘Have you got any money on you? Any coins?’

‘Sure.’

She gestured at the vending machines. ‘Get me a coffee. Black. No sugar.’

‘That’s how I take mine,’ said Nightingale.

‘That’s how half the population drink it,’ she said scornfully. ‘It doesn’t mean we’re joined at the hip.’

She glared at him as he got up from the table. He slotted a pound coin into the machine and pressed the button for black coffee. He asked the guard if she wanted one but she shook her head.

‘I wouldn’t say no to a Kit-Kat, though.’

‘Who would?’ asked Nightingale. He gave her the Kit-Kat and then got a second coffee. Robyn was still glaring at him when he carried them back to the table.

‘You’re running some sort of long con,’ she said as he sat down. ‘You’re setting me up for something.’

‘Robyn, you’re serving five life sentences and everything you own would fit in a supermarket carrier bag. Why would I be conning you?’

She leaned forward and stared at him. ‘My biological father was a Satanist and he left you a huge mansion in Surrey?’

‘That’s the gist of it, yes.’

‘Why didn’t he leave me anything? I mean, a big house wouldn’t be much use to me in here but I could do with a few quid.’

‘He didn’t know where you were or who your adoptive parents were,’ said Nightingale. ‘He tried to find you but couldn’t. I only tracked you down because I had access to the national DNA database.’

‘And he worshipped the devil?’ She sneered and shook her head. ‘Maybe that’s where the crazy gene came from.’ She sipped her coffee and grimaced. ‘You know one of the things I miss most about being in here?’

Nightingale raised his plastic cup. ‘Decent coffee?’

She grinned. ‘Bloody right. It’s horrible, isn’t it?’

‘I’ve had better,’ agreed Nightingale. ‘A lot better.’

Robyn put her chin in her hands. ‘Why are you really here, Jack? Is there something else you want to tell

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