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‘She didn’t want to leave, doubtless because of her daughter, but they took her forcibly off the premises. We haven’t yet been able to trace her yet. No hospital’s admitting to having her. Of course, she might be at one of the other UHC centres, but I’ve done a bit of research and my hunch is that she’s at a residential clinic run by Dr Zhou in Borehamwood.’
‘I know about that place,’ said Sir Colin. ‘Pattersons got one of their people in there to have a look around, but it didn’t turn up anything of value. It seems to be a glorified spa, no obvious wrongdoing and nobody tried to recruit their detective to the UHC.’
‘Even so, it seems the most likely place for them to have hidden Lin. As I say, she was in need of urgent medical care and I don’t think they’d want her anywhere she couldn’t be watched over by a senior member of the church, because she’s a definite flight risk – Robin overheard her suggesting to Will that they do “what Kevin did”.
‘If we can trace Lin and get her out of their clutches, we’d have a very valuable witness. Robin thinks Lin would value getting custody of her daughter over her loyalty to the church, and if we can get the child out, Will might well follow. But I want to tread very carefully in trying to locate Lin, because we don’t want to spook the UHC into hiding her somewhere unreachable. If you’re happy to bear the expense, I’d like to get one of our own people into that clinic – not Robin, obviously, but possibly our other female detective.’
‘Yes, of course. I have a duty of care to the girl. She’s the mother of my granddaughter, after…’
His eyes brimmed with tears.
‘I do apologise… every time we meet I seem to…’
Their waiter now returned to the table to ask Sir Colin whether there was something wrong with his steak and kidney pudding.
‘No,’ said Sir Colin weakly, ‘it’s very good. Just not particularly hungry… so sorry,’ he added to Strike, wiping his eyes as the waiter retreated again. ‘Sally really craved a granddaughter, you know. We run to boys a lot in both our families… but for it to happen under these circumstances…’
Strike waited for Sir Colin to compose himself before continuing.
‘Robin got a third possible lead: one of Kevin Pirbright’s sisters.’
Strike now told the story of Emily’s aborted escape attempt in Norwich.
‘It would mean more costs, I’m afraid,’ Strike said, ‘but I suggest putting one of our people in Norwich, to attempt a direct approach to Emily the next time she goes out collecting money for the church. Robin’s given us a good physical description. She and Emily struck up a rapport in there and I think, if one of our operatives mentions Robin, Emily might be persuaded to leave with them.’
‘Yes, I’d be happy for you to try that,’ said Sir Colin, whose virtually untouched pie was growing cold in front of him. ‘I’d feel as though I were doing something for Kevin, if I helped his sister get out… well,’ said Sir Colin, who was clearly shaken but trying to focus on the positive, ‘your partner’s done an astounding job. She’s achieved more in four months than Pattersons managed in eighteen.’
‘I’ll tell her you said that. It’ll mean a lot to her.’
‘She couldn’t come to lunch?’ asked Sir Colin.
‘No,’ said Strike. ‘I want her to take some time off. She went through a lot in there.’
‘But you wouldn’t want her to testify,’ said Sir Colin, with no hint of a question in his voice. It was a relief to Strike to have an intelligent client, for a change.
‘Not as things stand. The church’s lawyers would have a field day with Robin’s lack of impartiality, given that she was paid to go in there and gather dirt on them. The culture of fear in the church is such that I think they’d close ranks and terrify anyone at Chapman Farm who could back up her account. If she starts talking about supernatural events and torture techniques without corroboration—’
‘Torture techniques?’
‘She was shut up in a box for eight hours, unable to move out of a bent kneeling position.’
As far as Strike could tell in the flattering, diffused lighting, Sir Colin now turned rather pale.
‘Kevin told me he was tied to trees at night and so on, but he never mentioned being locked in a box.’
‘I think it’s reserved for the very worst transgressions,’ said Strike, choosing not to tell Sir Colin that his son, too, had been subjected to the punishment.
He now hesitated, considering how best to frame what he wanted to say next. He was loath to ruin the very slight sense of hope he’d induced in his client, and only too aware that Sir Colin had already committed to tripling the fees he was paying the agency.
‘Robin’s leads have definitely put us in a far better position than we were in,’ he said. ‘If we’re lucky, and we get Lin and Emily out, and they’re prepared to talk, and if there’s a police investigation into Jacob, we’ll definitely land a few heavy punches on the church.’
‘But those are significant “ifs”,’ said Sir Colin.
‘Right,’ said Strike. ‘We’ve got to be realistic. The Waces are adept at batting off critics. They could choose a few scapegoats to take the blame for everything Robin, Lin and Emily allege – and that’s assuming the other two are prepared to testify. They might not be up to taking the stand against a church that’s intimidated and coerced them for most of their lives.’
‘No,’ said Edensor, ‘I can see we’d better not count our chickens yet.’
‘I keep going back to something Wace’s eldest daughter said to me,’ said Strike. ‘Words to the effect of “It’s like cancer. You’ve got to cut the whole thing out, or you’ll be back where you started.”’
