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‘How come you didn’t call me last night, when the guy in black was trying to get into the building?’
‘You were working,’ said Robin, surprised. ‘What could you have done about it?’
‘Right,’ said Murphy. ‘So you’d only call me if I could be useful?’
A familiar mixture of unease and frustration, one she’d felt all too many times in her marriage, rose inside Robin.
‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘But we’ve changed the locks. The guy didn’t get in. I wasn’t in any danger.’
‘But you still spent the night there.’
‘As a precaution,’ said Robin.
She now knew exactly what was bothering Murphy: the same thing that had bothered Matthew, both before and after they’d got married.
‘Ryan—’
‘How come Strike didn’t realise you were still in the office, when he got back from this religious meeting?’
‘Because the lights were out,’ said Robin.
‘So you heard him go upstairs, but you didn’t go out and ask him what had happened with Wace? You waited until this morning.’
‘I didn’t hear him going upstairs,’ said Robin truthfully. ‘You can’t, in the inner office, which is where I was.’
‘And you hadn’t texted him, to say you were staying the night?’
‘No,’ said Robin, trying not to become openly angry, because she was too tired to want a row, ‘because I didn’t decide to stay the night until one in the morning. It was too late to take the Tube and I was still worried the person in the black jacket would be hanging around.’
‘You just told me you weren’t in any danger.’
‘I wasn’t, not inside the building.’
‘You could’ve got a taxi.’
‘I know I could, but I was really tired, so I decided to stay.’
‘Weren’t you worried about where Strike had got to?’
Now on the brink of losing the fight with her anger, Robin said,
‘I’m not his wife and he can handle himself. Anyway, I told you: I was busy joining dating sites to try and find this woman we need to interview.’
‘And he didn’t call you after he left the meeting?’
‘No. It was late and he probably assumed I’d be in bed.’
‘Right,’ said Murphy, with precisely the edge in his voice Matthew had once had, whenever they discussed Strike.
‘For God’s sake, just ask,’ said Robin, losing her temper. ‘Ask me whether I slept upstairs.’
‘If you say you slept in the office—’
‘That is what I say, because that’s the truth, and you can keep giving me the third degree, but the story won’t change, because I’m telling you what actually happened.’
‘Fine,’ said Murphy, and the monosyllable had so much of Matthew in it, that Robin said,
‘Listen, I’ve done this shit before, and I’m not going to do it again.’
