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Strike chose not to mention that if, as he half-suspected, Wace was playing mind games rather than genuinely attempting covert surveillance, the church leader might equally decide to ramp up harassment in retribution for their face-to-face chat at Olympia.
‘I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,’ Robin said. ‘I can’t be a hundred per cent certain, but I think Isaac Mills might be dead. Look: I found it an hour ago.’
She passed the printout of a small news item in the Telegraph dated January 2011 across the desk. It described an incident in which Isaac Mills, 38, had died in a head-on collision with a van which, unlike Mills, had been driving on the correct side of the road.
‘Right age,’ said Robin, ‘and wrong side of the road sounds like he was drunk or stoned.’
‘Shit,’ said Strike.
‘I’ll keep looking,’ said Robin, taking back the clipping, ‘because there are other Isaac Millses out there, but I’ve got a horrible feeling that was our man. Did you talk to Dev about taking Rosie Fernsby out for dinner, by the way?’
‘Did, yeah, he’s going to make a profile on Mingle Guru tonight. I had another thought about Rosie, actually. If that profile is hers, and she really has been travelling around India for the last few years, it makes sense that she hasn’t got a permanent base here. I wondered whether she might be housesitting while her mother’s in Canada.’
‘Nobody’s answered the landline in all the time I’ve tried. It just goes straight to voicemail.’
‘Even so, it wouldn’t be far out of our way, going through Richmond on the way back from Strawberry Hill. We could just knock on the door in Cedar Terrace and see what happens.’
Strike’s mobile rang. Expecting Lucy, he instead saw Midge’s number.
‘Everything all right?’
‘No,’ said Midge.
With a sense of foreboding, Strike switched the mobile to speakerphone and laid it down on the desk between him and Robin.
‘It’s not Tash’s fault,’ said Midge defensively, ‘OK? She hasn’t been able to get back to the annexe for the last couple of nights, so she seized a chance when she was coming back from a massage an hour ago.’
‘She was spotted?’ said Strike sharply.
‘Yeah,’ said Midge. ‘Some bloke who works there saw her tapping on the window.’
Strike’s and Robin’s eyes met. The latter, who feared Strike was about to explode, made a grimace intended to prevent any unhelpful outburst.
‘Obviously, Tash walked straight off,’ said Midge, ‘but the bad thing is—’
‘That’s not the bad thing?’ said Strike ominously.
‘Look, she’s done us a favour, Strike, and at least she’s found out Lin’s there!’
‘Midge, what else happened?’ said Robin, before Strike could retort.
‘Well, she had the note in the pocket of her robe, the one to show Lin, saying Will and Qing are out, and… and now she can’t find it. She thinks she might’ve taken the wrong robe when she left the massage room. Or, maybe, she’s dropped it.’
‘OK,’ said Robin, gesturing to Strike to withhold the stream of recriminations she knew he was bursting to deliver, ‘Midge, if she can pretend she’s lost a ring or something—’
‘She’s already gone back to the massage room to look, but she called me first because, obviously—’
‘Yeah,’ said Strike. ‘Obviously.’
‘Let us know what happens,’ said Robin. ‘Call us.’
‘Will do,’ said Midge. She rang off.
‘Fuck’s sake!’ said Strike, seething. ‘What did I tell Tasha? Take no risks, be ultra-cautious, then she goes to that fucking window by daylight—’
‘I know,’ said Robin, ‘I know.’
‘We should never have put an amateur in there!’
