The Silkworm(32)

He winced as he raised the damaged leg onto a stool under the table.

I'm supposed to be doing surveillance on Brocklehurst and Burnett's husband this week. Great bloody time to knacker my leg.'

I could follow them for you.'

The excited offer was out of Robin's mouth before she knew it, but Strike gave no evidence of having heard her.

How's Matthew doing?'

Not great,' said Robin. She could not decide whether Strike had registered her suggestion or not. He's gone home to be with his dad and sister.'

Masham, isn't it?'

Yes.' She hesitated, then said: We're going to have to postpone the wedding.'

Sorry.'

She shrugged.

We couldn't do it so soon …  it's been a horrible shock for the family.'

Did you get on well with Matthew's mother?' Strike asked.
 
 

 

Yes, of course. She was … '

But in fact, Mrs Cunliffe had always been difficult; a hypochondriac, or so Robin had thought. She had been feeling guilty about that in the last twenty-four hours.

 …  lovely,' said Robin. So how's poor Mrs Quine doing?'

Strike described his visit to Leonora, including the brief appearance of Jerry Waldegrave and his impressions of Orlando.

What exactly's wrong with her?' Robin asked.

Learning difficulties they call it, don't they?'

He paused, remembering Orlando's ingenuous smile, her cuddly orang-utan.

She said something strange while I was there and it seemed to be news to her mother. She told us she went into work with her father once, and that the head of Quine's publisher touched her. Name of Daniel Chard.'

He saw reflected in Robin's face the unacknowledged fear that the words had conjured back in the dingy kitchen.

How, touched her?'

She wasn't specific. She said, "He touched me" and "I don't like being touched". And that he gave her a paintbrush after he'd done it. It might not be that,' said Strike in response to Robin's loaded silence, her tense expression. He might've accidentally knocked into her and given her something to placate her. She kept going off on one while I was there, shrieking because she didn't get what she wanted or her mum had a go at her.'

Hungry, he tore open the cellophane on Robin's gift, pulled out a chocolate bar and unwrapped it while Robin sat in thoughtful silence.

Thing is,' said Strike, breaking the silence, Quine implied in Bombyx Mori that Chard's gay. I think that's what he's saying, anyway.'

Hmm,' said Robin, unimpressed. And do you believe everything Quine wrote in that book?'

Well, judging by the fact that he set lawyers on Quine, it upset Chard,' said Strike, breaking off a large chunk of chocolate and putting it in his mouth. Mind you,' he continued thickly, the Chard in Bombyx Mori's a murderer, possibly a rapist and his knob's falling off, so the gay stuff might not have been what got his goat.'

It's a constant theme in Quine's work, sexual duality,' said Robin and Strike stared at her, chewing, his brows raised. I nipped into Foyles on the way to work and bought a copy of Hobart's Sin,' she explained. It's all about a hermaphrodite.'

Strike swallowed.

He must've had a thing about them; there's one in Bombyx Mori too,' he said, examining the cardboard covering of his chocolate bar. This was made in Mullion. That's down the coast from where I grew up …  How's Hobart's Sin  –  any good?'

I wouldn't be fussed about reading past the first few pages if its author hadn't just been murdered,' admitted Robin.

Probably do wonders for his sales, getting bumped off.'

My point is,' Robin pressed on doggedly, that you can't necessarily trust Quine when it comes to other people's sex lives, because his characters all seem to sleep with anyone and anything. I looked him up on Wikipedia. One of the key features of his books is how characters keep swapping their gender or sexual orientation.'

Bombyx Mori's like that,' grunted Strike, helping himself to more chocolate. This is good, want a bit?'

I'm supposed to be on a diet,' said Robin sadly. For the wedding.'

Strike did not think she needed to lose any weight at all, but said nothing as she took a piece.

I've been thinking,' said Robin diffidently, about the killer.'

Always keen to hear from the psychologist. Go on.'

I'm not a psychologist,' she half laughed.

She had dropped out of her psychology degree. Strike had never pressed her for an explanation, nor had she ever volunteered one. It was something they had in common, dropping out of university. He had left when his mother had died of a mysterious overdose and, perhaps because of this, he had always assumed that something traumatic had made Robin leave too.

I've just been wondering why they tied his murder so obviously to the book. On the surface it looks like a deliberate act of revenge and malice, to show the world that Quine got what he deserved for writing it.'

Looks like that,' agreed Strike, who was still hungry; he reached over to a neighbouring table and plucked a menu off it. I'm going to have steak and chips, want something?'

Robin chose a salad at random and then, to spare Strike's knee, went up to the bar to give their order.

But on the other hand,' Robin continued, sitting back down, copy-catting the last scene of the book could have seemed like a good way of concealing a different motive, couldn't it?'

She was forcing herself to speak matter-of-factly, as though they were discussing an abstract problem, but Robin had not been able to forget the pictures of Quine's body: the dark cavern of the gouged-out torso, the burned-out crevices where once had been mouth and eyes. If she thought about what had been done to Quine too much, she knew that she might not be able to eat her lunch, or that she might somehow betray her horror to Strike, who was watching her with a disconcertingly shrewd expression in his dark eyes.

It's all right to admit what happened to him makes you want to puke,' he said through a mouthful of chocolate.

It doesn't,' she lied automatically. Then, Well, obviously  –  I mean, it was horrific-'

Yeah, it was.'

If he had been back with his SIB colleagues he would have been making jokes about it by now. Strike could remember many afternoons laden with pitch-black humour: it was the only way to get through certain investigations. Robin, however, was not yet ready for professionally callous self-defence and her attempt at dispassionate discussion of a man whose guts had been torn out proved it.

Motive's a bitch, Robin. Nine times out of ten you only find out why when you've found out who. It's means and opportunity we want. Personally,' he took a gulp of beer, I think we might be looking for someone with medical knowledge.'

Medical-?'

Or anatomical. It didn't look amateur, what they did to Quine. They could've hacked him to bits, trying to remove the intestines, but I couldn't see any false starts: one clean, confident incision.'

Yes,' said Robin, struggling to maintain her objective, clinical manner. That's true.'

Unless we're dealing with some literary maniac who just got hold of a good textbook,' mused Strike. Seems a stretch, but you don't know …  If he was tied up and drugged and they had enough nerve, they might've been able to treat it like a biology lesson … '

Robin could not restrain herself.

I know you always say motive's for lawyers,' she said a little desperately (Strike had repeated this maxim many times since she had come to work for him), but humour me for a moment. The killer must have felt that to murder Quine in the same way as the book was worth it for some reason that outweighed the obvious disadvantages-'

Which were?'

Well,' said Robin, the logistical difficulties of making it such an  –  an elaborate killing, and the fact that the pool of suspects would be confined to people who've read the book-'

Or heard about it in detail,' said Strike, and you say "confined", but I'm not sure we're looking at a small number of people. Christian Fisher made it his business to spread the contents of the book as far and as wide as he could. Roper Chard's copy of the manuscript was in a safe to which half the company seems to have had access.'

But … ' said Robin.

She broke off as a sullen barman came over to dump cutlery and paper napkins on their table.

But,' she resumed when he had sloped away, Quine can't have been killed that recently, can he? I mean, I'm no expert … '

Nor am I,' said Strike, polishing off the last of the chocolate and contemplating the peanut brittle with less enthusiasm, but I know what you mean. That body looked as though it had been there at least a week.'

Plus,' said Robin, there must have been a time lag between the murderer reading Bombyx Mori and actually killing Quine. There was a lot to organise. They had to get ropes and acid and crockery into an uninhabited house … '

And unless they already knew he was planning to go to Talgarth Road, they had to track Quine down,' said Strike, deciding against the peanut brittle because his steak and chips were approaching, or lure him there.'

The barman set down Strike's plate and Robin's bowl of salad, greeted their thanks with an indifferent grunt and retreated.

So when you factor in the planning and practicalities, it doesn't seem possible that the killer can have read the book any later than two or three days after Quine went missing,' said Strike, loading up his fork. Trouble is, the further back we set the moment when the killer started plotting Quine's murder, the worse it looks for my client. All Leonora had to do was walk a few steps up her hall; the manuscript was hers for the reading as soon as Quine finished it. Come to think of it, he could've told her how he was planning to end it months ago.'