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‘I’ll have to, I’ve been walking around in the vicinity of Rupert Court for a few years now. The last thing we need is anyone recognising me, especially if they’ve seen me coming in and out of the office.’
‘OK, fair point,’ said Strike, ‘but no need to shave your head.’
‘I’m not trying to get into the Hare Krishnas,’ said Robin. ‘I was thinking maybe short and a nice bold colour. A privately educated girl who wants to look a bit alternative, but not so radical it’ll scare her parents into stopping footing her bills. Maybe she’s had a recent bad break-up and, you know, now she wants a sense of purpose and something to fill the space where she thought a wedding was going to be.’
‘You have given this a lot of thought,’ said Strike, with a grin.
‘Of course I have. I want the job.’
‘Why?’ asked Strike. ‘Why d’you want it so much?’
‘I’ve always been interested in mind control. We touched on it on my course at uni.’
Robin had been studying psychology before she dropped out of university. Their uncompleted degrees were one of the things she and Strike had in common.
‘OK, well, that all sounds good. Work out a full cover and we can readjust the rota so you prioritise Saturday mornings at temple.’
‘The only problem is clothes,’ said Robin. ‘I don’t look like I’ve got loads of money, clothes-wise.’
‘You always look great,’ said Strike.
‘Thank you,’ said Robin, flushing slightly, ‘but if I’m going to convince the UHC I’ve got a lot of money, stuff like this,’ she held up her shoulder bag, which was six years old, ‘won’t cut it. I s’pose I could hire a couple of designer outfits and handbags. I’ve never done it, but I know you can.’
‘Might be able to help with that,’ said Strike, unexpectedly. ‘You could borrow stuff from Pru.’
‘Who?’
‘My sister,’ said Strike. ‘Prudence. The therapist.’
‘Oh,’ said Robin, intrigued.
She’d only ever met two of Strike’s eight half-siblings, and those only briefly. His family was, to say the least, complicated. Strike was the illegitimate son of a rock star he’d met only twice, and a deceased mother habitually described in the press as a super-groupie. While Robin knew Strike had finally agreed to meet his half-sister Prudence for the first time some months previously, she’d had no idea they were now on such terms that she might lend expensive clothing to his detective partner.
‘I think you’re about the same…’ Strike made a vague gesture rather than say ‘size’. ‘I’ll ask her. You might have to go round to her house to try it on.’
‘No problem,’ said Robin, slightly taken aback. ‘That’d be great, if Prudence won’t mind lending stuff to a total stranger.’
‘You’re not a total stranger, I’ve told her all about you,’ said Strike.
‘So… it’s going well, then?’ said Robin. ‘You and Prudence?’
‘Yeah,’ said Strike. He took another sip of beer. ‘I like her a lot more than any of my father’s other kids – low bar, admittedly.’
‘You like Al,’ said Robin.
‘Vaguely. He’s still pissed off at me because I wouldn’t go to that bloody party for Rokeby. Where’re you heading after this?’
‘Taking over from Dev in Bexleyheath,’ said Robin, as she checked the time on her phone. ‘Actually, I should get going. What about you?’
‘Afternoon off. I’ll scan this stuff back at the office and email it to you,’ said Strike, indicating the cardboard folder of documents Colin Edensor had handed Robin.
‘Great,’ said Robin. ‘See you tomorrow, then.’
6
Six in the fourth place means:
A tied-up sack.
