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‘Well, I’m not driving,’ said Robin, ‘so I’ll have a glass of Prosecco.’
Prudence asked for this while Robin perused the menu, well aware that Prudence’s good mood might be about to change. When each had given their order, she said,
‘You were probably surprised to hear from me.’
‘Well,’ said Prudence, smiling, ‘not entirely. I’ve had a sort of impression, from what Corm’s told me, that you’re the emotionally intelligent side of the partnership.’
‘Right,’ said Robin cautiously. ‘So… did you think I wanted to meet to try and make things right between you and Strike?’
‘Didn’t you?’
‘Afraid not,’ said Robin. ‘I’m here to talk about Flora Brewster.’
The smile slid off Prudence’s face. As Robin had anticipated, she looked not only dismayed, but angry.
‘So he’s sent you—?’
‘He hasn’t sent me. I’m here entirely on my own account. He might well be furious, once he finds out what I’ve done.’
‘But he’s clearly worked out who—’
‘Yes,’ said Robin. ‘He knows Torment Town’s Flora. We had an argument about it, actually. He thinks Flora ought to be testifying against the UHC, not drawing pictures of what she witnessed in there, but I told him, maybe the Pinterest stuff was her way of processing it all. I said she probably went through appalling things in there. In the end, Strike agreed not to go after her, not to pursue her, as a lead.’
‘I see,’ said Prudence slowly. ‘Well, thank you for—’
‘But I’ve changed my mind.’
‘What?’
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ repeated Robin. ‘That’s why I asked you to meet me. I want to talk to Flora.’
Prudence, as Robin had expected, now looked openly angry.
‘You can’t do this, Robin. You can’t. Do you realise what kind of position this puts me in? The only way Corm could have worked out who she was—’
‘He already knew Flora had been in the church. He had dates, knew when she left – everything. That’s how, when you rang him and accused him of badgering your client, he was able to work out who Torment Town was.’
‘It’s immaterial what you knew, before. With respect, Robin—’
‘With equal respect, Prudence, you had a choice whether or not to tell us you had a client who’d escaped the UHC, and you told us. You also had a choice as to whether or not to call Strike and accuse him of badgering your client. You were the one who enabled him to work out her identity. You can’t blame him for doing his job.’
The waiter now arrived with Robin’s Prosecco and she took a large swig.
‘I’m here because the person we were hired to extract from the UHC got out yesterday, but they’re very messed up, and probably in danger. Not just of suicide,’ she added, when Prudence made to speak. ‘We think the church might take a more active role in their death, if given the chance.’
‘Which proves,’ said Prudence, in a heated whisper, ‘that you two don’t understand what you’re meddling with. People who get out of the UHC are often delusional. They think the church, or the Drowned Prophet, is stalking them, watching them, maybe going to kill them, but it’s all paran—’
‘A masked gunman tried to break into our office on Monday. They were caught on camera. An ex-member of the church was shot through the head last year. We know for a fact they kept tabs on a mother of two, who hanged herself this week after getting a call from an anonymous number.’
For the second time that day, Robin watched the effect of this kind of information on somebody who’d never had to face the threat of violence in their daily lives.
The waiter now set down antipasti on the table between the two women. Robin, who was extremely hungry, reached for some Parma ham.
‘I’m not going to do anything that will endanger the well-being of my client,’ Prudence told Robin in a low voice. ‘So if you’ve come here wanting – I don’t know – an introduction, or confidential information on her—’
‘Maybe, subconsciously, you want her to testify,’ said Robin, and she watched the colour mount in Prudence’s face. ‘That’s why you said too much.’
‘And maybe, subconsciously, you only talked Corm out of meeting me himself, so you could—’
