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‘Lin doesn’t like him. She won’t like being in his clinic,’ muttered Will.
He glanced up at Robin and back at his own feet.
‘My father hired you, didn’t he?’
Strike and Robin looked at each other. The former, happy for Robin to take the lead, gave a slight shrug.
‘Yes,’ said Robin.
‘You can’t tell him I’m out,’ said Will, with a mixture of desperation and ferocity, looking up at Robin from beneath his eyebrows. ‘All right? If you’re going to tell my father, I’ll leave now. I only came here because I’ve got to find Lin, before I go to jail.’
‘Why d’you say you’re going to jail?’ asked Robin.
‘Because of all the things I’ve done. I don’t want to talk about it. As long as Lin and Qing are OK, I don’t mind, I deserve it. But you can’t tell my father. He’ll have to know once I’ve been arrested, but I won’t have to talk to him then, because I’ll be in custody. Anyway, once I start talking, the Drowned Prophet will probably come for me, so it won’t matter. But Lin’ll be able to get a council flat or something, won’t she? If she’s got a kid? Because I haven’t got any money,’ he added pathetically.
‘I’m sure something will be worked out,’ said Robin.
The glass door opened and Pat re-entered, carrying four boxes of pizza.
‘That was quick,’ said Strike.
‘It’s only up the road, isn’t it?’ said Pat, setting the pizzas down on the desk, ‘and I’ve just rung my granddaughter. She’s got clothes you can have, for the little one,’ she told Will. ‘Her youngest’s just turned three. She’ll bring them over.’
‘Hang on,’ said Strike, momentarily distracted. ‘You’re a—?’
‘Great-grandmother, yeah,’ said Pat, unemotionally. ‘We have ’em young in my family. Best way, when you’ve still got the energy.’
She hung up her bag and coat and went to fetch plates out of the kitchen area. Little Qing, who appeared to be having a fine time, now looked curiously towards the pizza boxes, from which an appetising smell was emanating, but Will’s lips had begun silently moving in what Robin recognised as the familiar chant, ‘Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu.’
‘I just need to have a quick word with Robin,’ Strike said to Will, disconcerted by his silent chanting. ‘You OK here with Pat for a bit?’
Will nodded, his lips still moving. Strike and Robin got up and, with a jerk of his head, Strike indicated to his partner that the landing would be the safest place to talk.
‘He and the kid should stay here,’ said Strike, having closed the glass door behind him. ‘They can have my place, and I’ll put up a camp bed in the office. I don’t think we can put them in a local hotel, it’s too close to Rupert Court, and I think he needs someone with him, in case he starts hallucinating the Drowned Prophet.’
‘OK,’ said Robin quietly, ‘but don’t tell him we’ve got to let Sir Colin know.’
‘Edensor’s the client. We’ve got to tell him.’
‘I know that,’ said Robin, ‘but Will doesn’t have to.’
‘Don’t you think, if we tell him his dad already knows about the kid—?’
‘I don’t think he’s scared of his father knowing about Qing. I think he’s worried Sir Colin will try and stop him going to prison.’
Strike looked down at her, nonplussed.
‘He’s obviously feeling really guilty about whatever he’s done in there, and prison’s just another Chapman Farm, isn’t it?’ said Robin. ‘Far less scary to him than the outside world.’
‘What are all these things, plural, he’s done, that are criminal?’ said Strike.
‘It might just be sleeping with Lin when she was underage,’ said Robin uncertainly. ‘I’m worried about pressing him for details, though, especially with Qing there. He might get upset, or kick off.’
‘You realise this is all down to you, him leaving?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Robin. ‘It’s Lin disappearing that made him do it. He was already having doubts when I turned up.’
‘You pushed his doubts to breaking point. He’s probably left early enough for his daughter not to be completely screwed up, as well. I think you might’ve saved two lives.’
