Chapter Two

They arrived at Charlotte's home fifteen minutes later. There was no one in front of the entrance.

"I told her to call the police", Strike mumbled to himself as he got out of the car.

Strike had been unusually quiet during the car ride and so Robin didn't really know what to expect. She had heard a lot of different stories about the former Charlotte Campbell, on-and-off-again girlfriend of her boss, before she got married to Jago Ross, a man who was the polar opposite of Strike, at least concerning his wealth and position. Most of the stories were from people other than Strike himself. His ex-girlfriend definitely fell into the area they didn't discuss.

Robin had met Charlotte only once, and only very briefly, when she had stormed out of the office on her first day at work. Since then she had seen pictures and glimpsed her from a distance at an event for the Paralympics. But she had never really met her face to face and that made her nervous while she climbed the steps to the town house's entrance.

Strike knocked on the door and immediately they heard someone moving inside. A few moments later the door was opened, and Strike felt Charlotte's arms come around his neck. Surprised by the sudden feel of her body pressed against his, his instincts took over and he hugged her back until he realised how inappropriate this was and loosened her arms and pushed her away softly.

"Charlotte, what happened?" Strike asked. Her face was wet with tears and her eyes were puffy and red. Even now, she is beautiful Strike thought to himself as he took in her appearance. She was wearing loose white trousers and a thin grey cashmere pullover. Her feet were bare. Her clothing and her hands had red stains that looked like blood.

Her eyes were unfocused, so he cupped her face with his right hand to steady her and repeated his question.

"What happened? Can you show me?" The physical connection seemed to work, and Charlotte shook her head as if waking from a dream. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a second as if to savour the feeling of his hand on her skin.

"Did you call the police?" Only now, Charlotte seemed to realise that he hadn't come alone, and both turned towards Robin. Strike looked a bit ashamed to have momentarily forgotten that she was with him and immediately removed his hand, but Charlotte looked at her with icy hostility. She turned her gaze back to the man in front of her. "What is she doing here? I called you".

Robin raised her eyebrows at this rude behaviour.

Strike took a step back to get even more distance between them. "Robin is my partner. It sounded like a crime had been committed, so it only made sense for her to come."

Charlotte's eyes returned to Robin and scrutinized her from top to bottom in a few seconds.

Turning back to Strike she said coldly: "And how come you two can come together so easily on a Sunday night? Was she already in your bed? I should have known. Were the others you were with after me just a way to distract yourself until this one became available?"

"Why did you call, Charlotte?" Strike had no intention to let this conversation drift into personal territory. He forced himself not to look at Robin, but he could feel her shuffling uncomfortably next to him. And to be honest with himself, Charlotte had seen through him immediately. Even if that was never the official reason, he used his relationships the past few years to distract himself from Robin. Now that she was single, he hadn't even looked at another woman. Not that he would tell her that.

Sensing his growing impatience, she turned towards the front door. "Follow me."

Strike turned towards Robin and gave her a small, encouraging smile, but she turned away and followed Charlotte into the house.

"He's in here", Charlotte turned a corner and opened a heavy wooden door. Behind was the study and Strike immediately saw the source of her bloodstains. Crumpled on the floor was a man. His head was smashed in and there was blood everywhere. Strike stopped on the threshold and moved to make space for Robin to look into the room. She gasped loudly and put her hand in front of her mouth as if to silence the sound. It was a gruesome sight. Jago Ross' face was turned away from them. The back of his head was a red pulp. Next to his body lay what looked like a polo trophy. There was blood on it as well.

"Looks like the murder weapon", Robin said turning away from the body and towards Strike who was still in the doorway with her.

"Seems to be." Looking from Robin to Charlotte he said: "When did you find him?"

"I came home at about 10 pm. I went upstairs to check on the babies and when I came back down I found him. Then I called you."

Strike started to hear sirens in the distance.

"Did you notice anything strange when you came home? Open door or window? Did you have the feeling someone was still here?"

"Nothing. The door was closed as usual and the only other person in the house is the nanny. She is still sleeping. I didn't think waking her was necessary." Charlotte started to pace the hallway in front of the study. Strike had the impression that this was a way to hide her shock and not to show her impatience with the whole situation.

"Did he have any appointments for this evening?" Robin looked at the other woman with a professional distance in her gaze.

"Not as far as I know. But I'm not very familiar with his business calendar. He has an assistant, who knows these things."

They could now see the red and blue lights coming into the house from the street.

"I think I should go…" Charlotte left Strike and Robin alone with the dead Jago Ross.

"He was a bit of cunt, but even I wouldn't have wished a death like this on him." He rubbed his right hand over his face to focus and looked over the room once more. "It doesn't look like a fight though. Everything's where it's supposed to be."

"You don't think Charlotte…", Robin hesitated. It was one thing to suspect people you didn't know of being able to commit cold-blooded murder. But to accuse someone your boss had an intimate relationship with for 16 years is another matter altogether.

Strike caught her meaning but shook his head. "No, I don't think she killed her husband. She is capable of a lot of things, but not this."

Robin accepted his answer but wasn't completely convinced herself. But before she could continue they heard voices in the hall and turned towards a familiar face.

"Why is it always you two when there is a bloody murder?" DI Eric Wardle came into view with his entourage of crime scene investigators.

"Believe me, I would rather look for irresponsible fathers who don't pay alimony." Strike shook Wardle's hand. Robin did the same.

"You will have to come to the station for an official statement of course", Wardle added while making his way into the study and crouching down beside the body. "It looks like he got attacked from behind. Either he was surprised, or he knew his murderer and was comfortable enough to turn his back to them." He continued to examine the scene, writing down information he didn't share with the two private investigators still waiting in the door.

Strike turned towards Robin. "I have to talk to Charlotte again. Will you stay here and make sure Wardle doesn't destroy any evidence?"

At this the DI looked in their direction and raised an appalled eyebrow to show his mock annoyance.

"Sure", Robin replied without looking at Strike as he turned to leave. She had tried to hide her unease with the situation since they arrived at the Ross' front door, but her face must have given her away when she looked back into the room of the crime, because Wardle immediately stood up and walked towards her with a comforting expression.

"You know that they are a thing of the past right?" He stopped and looked into her eyes. Robin felt stupid that someone had deduced her feelings with such ease. She wasn't going to continue showing everyone how she felt. Without blinking she answered: "That is not what worries me. Charlotte was the one to find him and from what it looks like, he hasn't been dead that long. Which makes her suspect number one and I'm afraid that Cormoran can't be objective when it comes to her."

Wardle nodded and accepted her explanation. "Well, right now, we know too little to form any theories. But I agree with you that she is top of the list of people we will talk to." With that he returned his focus to his work and Robin continued watching his progress while more and more CSIs joined him.

Strike looked for Charlotte and found her in the kitchen where she was talking to a policewoman who seemed to take an initial statement.

Seeing him enter the spacious room Charlotte asked the officer whether they could resume their conversation at a later time. Annoyed, but unwilling to force her, she agreed and left the room.

"Thank you for coming, Bluey. I wouldn't have known what to do." While she spoke, her hand came up to grip his arm lightly. Strike immediately took a step back from her. He was not going to let the intimacy from their hug at the door grow any further.

"We're going to leave now. There is nothing we can do here. Let the police do their work and they will find whoever did this", Strike said.

"Aren't you even going to ask if it was me?"

"No." She waited, but he didn't elaborate any further.

"Well then. I guess you should get back to your girlfriend. It must be very strange for her to be here." Charlotte waited for Strike to comment on the insinuation she had just made, but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction from him. It might be better if she thinks that Robin and I are together. That's at least what he told himself to justify his silence. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he enjoyed the jealous look that had overtaken Charlotte's face. He hadn't forgotten that only three months before she had wanted him back. And the way her brain worked, she wouldn't stop pursuing him until she got what she wanted. So, let her think whatever she wants. Maybe, this will keep her from trying to get back into my life. After two years, Strike realised he could finally meet the woman, he had spent the most part of 16 years in love with, without being sucked back into their shared past. He was in a good place and he didn't want to jeopardise that.

"Goodbye Charlotte." Without giving her a chance to say something, Strike left the kitchen and went to look for his partner. He found Robin where he had left her, watching the CSIs do their work.

"Do you need us tonight Eric, or can we meet tomorrow at the station?" Wardle told them to come to Scotland Yard tomorrow at nine and with a wave goodbye turned back toward the photographer he had been speaking to before Strike had interrupted.

"You should get a taxi home", Strike said to Robin after they had exited the house and she started walking toward the nearest tube station.

"That's ok. It's not that far", Robin said without stopping. "See you tomorrow morning."

Strike stood in the middle of the sidewalk and watched her disappear into to the entrance of South Kensington station. Bugger he thought to himself. Thinking about how to explain the whole situation to Robin he went looking for a cab. His tiny flat above the office wasn't as close to the rich neighbourhood where Charlotte lived as Robin's new home. He had been on his feet for most of the day and his leg made its inconvenience with the situation known.

On his way home, he texted Barclay to cover Strike's new client the next morning, so he could keep his appointment with the police. He also sent a quick text message to Ilsa, explaining in a few words what had happened. When he opened his flat door, his thoughts returned to Robin.

Did you get home ok? It had become a sort of tradition for them that they checked in with each other after a long night out. After her last encounter with a murderous sociopath he didn't want to take any chances. Her reply came just a few moments later.

Yeah. You?

Safe and sound. Have a good night.

You too.

He put his phone on the small kitchen table and took a Doom Bar from the fridge. He hoped Robin wouldn't pay too much attention to Charlotte's remarks on the nature of his and Robin's relationship. They were finally at a point where they didn't have to keep secrets from one another and he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable in any way.

He undressed and removed his prosthesis and tried to find some sleep that wouldn't come for a long time.