Page 9 of Troubled Blood

“I’m not suggesting you’d exploit it—”

“Might as well hear her out, then, mightn’t I? Unlike a lot of people, I wouldn’t take her money for nothing. And once I’d exhausted all avenues—”

“I know you,” said Robin. “The less you found out, the more interested you’d get.”

“Think I’d have her wife to deal with unless I got results within a reasonable period. They’re a gay couple,” he elaborated. “The wife’s a psychol—”

“Cormoran, I’ll call you back,” said Robin, and without waiting for his answer, she cut the call and dropped the mobile back onto the passenger seat.

Tufty had just ambled out of the restaurant, followed by his wife and sons. Smiling and talking, they turned their steps toward their car, which lay five behind where Robin sat in the Land Rover. Raising her camera, she took a burst of pictures as the family drew nearer.

By the time they passed the Land Rover, the camera was lying in her lap and Robin’s head was bowed over her phone, pretending to be texting. In the rear-view mirror she watched as the Tufty family got into their Range Rover and departed for the villa beside the sea.

Yawning yet again, Robin picked up her phone and called Strike back.

“Get everything you wanted?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Robin, checking the photographs one-handedly with the phone to her ear, “I’ve got a couple of clear ones of him and the boys. God, he’s got strong genes. All four kids have got his exact features.”

She put the camera back into her bag.

“You realize I’m only a couple of hours away from St. Mawes?”

“Nearer three,” said Strike.

“If you like—”

“You don’t want to drive all the way down here, then back to London. You’ve just told me you’re knackered.”

But Robin could tell that he liked the idea. He’d traveled down to Cornwall by train, taxi and ferry, because since he had lost a leg, long drives were neither easy nor particularly pleasurable.

“I’d like to meet this Anna. Then I could drive you back.”

“Well, if you’re sure, that’d be great,” said Strike, now sounding cheerful. “If we take her on, we should work the case together. There’d be a massive amount to sift through, cold case like this, and it sounds like you’ve wrapped up Tufty tonight.”

“Yep,” sighed Robin. “It’s all over except for the ruining of half a dozen lives.”

“You didn’t ruin anyone’s life,” said Strike bracingly. “He did that. What’s better: all three women find out now, or when he dies, with all the effing mess that’ll cause?”

“I know,” said Robin, yawning again. “So, do you want me to come to the house in St. M—”

His “no” was swift and firm.

“They—Anna and her partner—they’re in Falmouth. I’ll meet you there. It’s a shorter drive for you.”

“OK,” said Robin. “What time?”

“Could you manage half eleven?”

“Easily,” said Robin.

“I’ll text you a place to meet. Now go and get some sleep.”

As she turned the key in the ignition, Robin became conscious that her spirits had lifted considerably. As though a censorious jury were watching, among them Ilsa, Matthew and Charlotte Campbell, she consciously repressed her smile as she reversed out of the parking space.

4

Begotten by two fathers of one mother,

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