Unsurprisingly, Joan's hatchback and only a few other vehicles were on the wet car deck of the King Harry ferry at 10:00 am on Boxing Day morning. Robin was up on the viewing deck while the ferry made its sedate way across the river. The regular clink of the chain that heaved the ferry measured the increments of progress across the mirrored Fal. Tucked away in the small valley a couple of huge cargo ships were laid up. Towering over the ferry, their stillness in the haze of mist, faded paint and the rust that ran out of portholes gave them a macabre air which blighted the otherwise verdant and tranquil woods that surrounded the water. She turned away to join Strike leaning over the barrier of the deck. She was relieved to see he seemed to have a thicker density of mist around him than anywhere else, so he was obviously using the vape again.
Strike sucked in double the amount of vapour than he normally would smoke from a cigarette, desperately trying to stave off the cravings that had put him in an irritable mood most of the morning. Whoever had chosen the vape knew him well enough to get the highest concentration of nicotine, although he sighed remembering how Robin had told him brightly that over time he was supposed to reduce that too. He wondered if he could muster the courage to tell her today he didn't think it would last beyond their trip to Cornwall. He certainly hadn't been able to do so this morning in order to go down to the Coop and get a new packet.
Although, being honest with himself, he hadn't wanted to disrupt the electric charge that seemed to stir the air of the small cottage when they had forced themselves awake, cloistered from the interruptions, demands and responsibilities that came with staying at his Aunt and Uncle's home. He knew that Joan would have liked them to spend the day continuing the Christmas celebrations in the house but Strike's limit had been reached concerning Greg's chippiness and his sister's interference. He had assured Joan he would be back for dinner and mentioned that if they got this job it would mean he would be around at least for a couple of weeks. Even though she was delighted by this, after the freedom of last night's pleasurable exertions, he still planned on asking if they could continue to stay at the cottage.
"Are you thinking about the meeting?" Robin appeared beside him now that they were nearing the sloping cement jetty for the ferry.
Strike turned to look down at her, eyebrow raised, his dark eyes swept over her and his lips quirked into a small smile. Images of the night and this morning flipped through Robin's mind and she was sure Strike had been imagining something similar.
"Did I ever tell you how impressed I am by how focused you always are?" She put her hand in his and they walked together back to the car.
"I'd say that was the gist of many of the things you might have mentioned over the course of last night,"
A pang of guilt squeezed inside her chest as she watched Strike limp slightly towards the passenger door. Their walk up the path the night before and the additional activity at the cottage meant Strike had to have a long bath this morning to try and soak away the soreness and it clearly hadn't worked completely. She knew there was little point in mentioning it until they were back in St Mawes and she'd have more help to offer than mere sympathy. His stoicism still impressed her, as long as he didn't let it go too far into self-neglect.
He caught her watching as he pulled himself into the car, "What?" Strike asked as they settled themselves in the car seats. His smile almost self-conscious, as he took in her warm look of respect but considered himself humble enough to not tell her how much he liked it, "You're wondering how you managed to pull this prime specimen of manhood?"
"Every day," she laughed but knew behind his self-deprecation was a good dose of insecurity about himself. Robin lifted her hand to run her fingers over his beard and her thumb trailed over his lips. She sniggered when he smiled back but looked down, safely away from her gaze, "You're easily embarrassed this morning?"
"You make me feel like a piece of meat sometimes, I'm just a wallflower me, just not used to so much female admiration,"
"Didn't notice that you were that offended last night!"
He looked at her with a wide grin. Robin started the engine readying the car to make its way from the ferry and up the twisting road that rose steeply up the small valley.
The ferry slid to a grinding halt on the jetty and one of the men that worked the ferry pushed open the gate, so Robin could drive the small car off. Strike's face turned more serious and he leant his head back on the rest closing his eyes, "I think you should lead the meeting,"
"Really?" Robin tried to repress the excitement in her voice and sound calm.
"Yeah, I'm not going to be here after tomorrow," he ignored the sudden wrench in his stomach as he didn't want to think about why it had happened, "So Gwenifer is going to have to start taking you seriously. Might as well start off on the right foot, 'specially as I buggered it up so much last night," he gave her a rueful smile.
As she effortlessly turned sharply around the bend she asked, "You're not just doing this because I was angry yesterday?"
"Course not," Strike lied.
Robin had become wise to his tells and after checking there was nothing coming towards them on the narrow road she gave him a fleeting look of derision.
"Okay, okay. Yes," he raised his eyes, "But only because you were right,"
His begrudging tone reassured Robin of his usual implicit honesty.
"Was that the right answer?"
"Always," Robin laughed.
While Strike's statement was taken about finding the body, Robin perused the notes she had written that morning concerning the fee they would need to negotiate to make both of them staying in Cornwall viable. Otherwise, she would be in the car with Nick and Ilsa on her own way back to London after New Year. Also, there was a list of the key information they needed from the police. Re-reading her words kept her mind off of the kamikaze butterflies diving in her stomach.
When Strike finally walked towards her along the corridor she was so engrossed she didn't notice he was back, "You good?"
Robin looked up with a start to see Strike suddenly stood over her.
She shook her head, "Sorry, yeah – it's just been a while since I've been at work,"
He nodded with understanding and gave her an encouraging smile, "You'll be fine,"
"Corm!" Gwenifer called to him from the end of the corridor and gestured for them to join her.
Robin caught his eye and he covered his smile by rubbing his beard when she rolled her eyes.
Robin stood up and strode towards the police inspector, she made sure her tone was warm, "Good morning, Gwenifer,"
"Robin," Gwenifer nodded and gave her a very brief saccharine smile before leading them to the Superintendent's office.
Robin thought to herself that she had achieved a small victory in forcing Gwenifer to treat her with at least the pretence civility.
"Sir, this is Cormoran Strike and his partner Robin…"
"Ellacott," Robin finished for Gwenifer, although she did not think the woman was portraying herself in the best light as a detective if she possibly could not remember someone's name.
Holding her hand out to the besuited man in his forties, she was relieved when he smiled back as he shook her hand.
He introduced himself, "Superintendent Michael Trevena,"
Robin watched as his eyes scanned her up and down. She tried to keep her expression neutral rather than glare at him as she was tempted to. He clearly was not going to be much help to Robin either.
Superintendent Michael Trevena was an old-school policeman, relegated to the sleepy cathedral city of Truro, thankfully he turned his attention to Strike, "Cormoran Strike hey?"
Strike looked embarrassed for the second time that morning as he held out his hand.
"You've bloody done well for yourself! Decorated war hero! Famous private detective! And one of our very own from St Mawes I hear," Trevena shook Strike's hand vigorously, "Based in London now though, can't help that I suppose. We've been left to fester here, haven't we Arscott?"
Gwenifer nodded her eyes averted, embarrassed Robin thought and logged it away to consider later. Superintendent Trevena gestured for them to take a seat and sat behind his desk clearly drawing a line of authority between them.
"Bloody forgotten about down here and once we have it confirmed in the autopsy that it's murder they'll be on our backs about getting an arrest. Scutari was a well-connected man, bloody conservative donor. We just don't have the expertise or the funding to be able to get a result quickly, so Gwenifer suggested we involved you and your partner,"
"The Serious Crime Unit has taken a bit of a hit in funding and it's not been helped that we've had a few retirements and one of my best DS's is on maternity leave so the team lack inexperience," at this moment Gwenifer choose to look at Robin before her gaze drifted back to Strike, "Problem is they think we are all summer holidays and cream teas rather than murder. To be honest murder rates are low and we're mainly dealing with violent crime and rape."
"Frankly we can do without any interference from any other force, we're already lumped in with Devon - this way we stay in charge and get the credit," Trevena prodded his desk with his finger, "They might then give us some extra funding permanently. The Chief Constable has said he can release funding for you once the autopsy comes back this afternoon. He's after promotion, a Londoner. These are the daily rates for consultancy and we'd like to take you on for a fortnight, as I said we need urgent results," Trevena held out the paper towards Strike but Robin took it.
She scanned the figures and slowly drew in a breath so as not to give away her shock as she worked out the sums. This was nearly double Strike's hourly rate and twenty times her own. She passed it casually over to Strike.
"That seems fine,"
"Any further expenses you'll need to claim, Gwenifer can tell you how to do that,"
At this Strike cleared his throat, he sounded as if he was almost choking. This was a huge step for the agency and made all their hard graft worth it. The last time the agency had seen this kind of money was when he'd taken on John Bristow as a client but the killer had his own selfish reasons for offering a double fee. Whereas, if all went well, this could lead to further work. Robin, a little ashamed of own thoughts of the lucrative nature of this case, reminded herself that there was a dead man to think about.
"Now, I'll let you all get on, Gwenifer can take you down to meet the team,"
In the corridor, Strike desperately tried to catch Robin's eye but she was stubbornly keeping her eyes on Gwenifer, clearly not trusting herself to share a celebratory smile. The sight of that piece of paper with their daily rate had acted like a painkiller on his leg, he was sure he was actually walking a lot lighter and was no longer limping. Secretly, even to himself, he had been worried about how the agency could keep going without at least one of them in London. Now, he was able to admit this to himself, as the amount they were making would more than cover the bills. He'd texted Glen Friel to see if he was willing to do full-time hours for a couple of weeks and he had been willing. They had wrapped up quite a few of the clients before Christmas so he should be able to handle the workload alone. If any clients were desperate for the services of Strike himself they could wait a few weeks.
As they entered the open plan office it brought back memories of his SIB days. Cases brought him to the police station but usually in the sense of 'helping police with their enquiries, not a position anyone wanted to be in but this time he was back on the right side. He was taken aback by how young most of the officers were, he and Gwenifer seemed to be the oldest in the room. Robin fit in well though and he was pleased – it would make it much easier for her to be accepted.
"All right everyone, your attention this way please!" Gwenifer waited for the few people who weren't already staring at the rock star's veteran son turned private detective to turn towards her, except from one young man who was on a phone call, "I'd like to introduce you all to Cormoran Strike and Robin Ellacott, they'll be helping us to get the Scutari case tied up,"
Gwenifer then introduced each person in the small team. Apart from her, there were two Detective Sergeants. Jess Amir, dark-haired and serious, sat with her knees crossed and arms folded neatly, scrutinising them both but smiling in a friendly way. The other Nico Ford looked like a member of a boyband, all straw blonde hair and good looks. Once he put the phone down his eyes raked automatically over Robin and Strike fixed him with a stare until Nico cowed and looked at Jess who was equally giving him a withering look. He began to stuff a large breakfast sandwich into his mouth – maybe he wasn't as bad as Strike had thought. Then there were the young Detective Constables, Tom 'Tik Tok' Curnow and Jed Rosewell, who were identikit cops, short hair and similar fashionable clothing.
"The briefing will be in five minutes," Gwenifer instructed and they all turned back to their work, except for Nico who was feeling brave and was eyeing Strike warily, "Nico, get us some drinks. Tea?
Strike and Robin nodded and followed Gwenifer's gesture to enter her office.
"Nico leave the sandwich alone and get a move on!" she called over her shoulder.
They took off their coats and hung them over the backs of their chairs before they sat down.
"So as the Boss said, although the autopsy hasn't been completed yet, it's just a formality and we're already treating it as murder," Gwenifer picked up her notebook and began scanning the pages before she began to relay information to them.
Robin and Strike flipped open their own notebooks and began to write.
"We know so far that Scutari left the Bolventor just before lunchtime on the 23rd. His family knew he was taking out the yacht. She'd received a text from him at 6 pm saying he wouldn't be back until late that night. When he didn't return during the night, his wife thought that he hadn't returned home because he was with his mistress. She told us she didn't call or text him because she didn't want to appear as if she cared, can't blame the woman for at least having some pride,"
Strike raised his brows and Robin smirked as she asked, "Any idea who the mistress is?"
"Supposedly, she doesn't know who her husband had been having his most recent affair with but she gave us the names of some of his past dalliances in town to see if he had rekindled any. The family reported him missing the following morning as he couldn't be located at the hotel or on his mobile and then an employee informed them that the boat was untethered in the bay. Witness statements point to the boat being back in the harbour at 23:15,"
"Who was the key witness?" Robin queried.
"A lad called Joshua Teague, he works behind the bar at the Rising Sun, was on his way home after his shift,"
"Teague…not?" Strike looked curiously at Gwenifer.
"That's right, Morwenna Teague's son,"
"How old is he? She must have become pregnant as soon as she left school to have a son old enough to work in a pub?" Strike wasn't sure whether what irked him was the fact he suddenly felt old or something a bit more disturbing.
"That's right, but don't worry Corm you'd been in London a while then," Gwenifer smirked when she saw Robin turn in her chair to look at him.
"What were the family's alibis?" Robin asked as she pretended to complete some important note.
"Well, Isabella Scutari was working at the hotel with Genevieve, last minute arrangements for Christmas celebrations. Then both daughters had dinner with her in the restaurant that evening, then Isabella claims to have been asleep in her room all night. Jed is going through the CCTV from the hotel to establish all the family's going-ons over the last three days. Genevieve went home at about 8 o'clock but she lives alone. You may have noticed that St Mawes itself doesn't have any CCTV, never needed it before now, so Tic Tok will be trying to get neighbours to establish whether they saw her,"
Robin stifled a smile at this, she was used to having nicknames for clients rather than each other, "Does she live in St Mawes?" She saw Gwenifer give Strike a look of confusion before she turned back to Robin once she realised he too was waiting for her to respond.
"No and that's the problem she lives in a detached house overlooking St Just creek and it's quite isolated. Peter Scutari was in Rock on a date with a woman named…Ophelia Saville-Winstanley, he spent the night with her. The youngest daughter, Milena, well she's only a teenager, so she was out with her friends around St Mawes and back at Bosventor with her mother and sister for dinner, then claims to have been in her room all night,"
"Any suspects so far apart from the family members? Unlike women men aren't normally murdered by someone close to them, are they?" Robin asked the two experienced detectives.
Strike looked at Gwenifer.
"That's right, so we need to find out who the mistress was. He also had a well-known grudge with Jon Ridley but we plan on being careful there, don't want to rush straight into treating him like a suspect unless the evidence from the autopsy supports it or his lawyers will come down on us like a ton of bricks,"
"Can we have copies of the family's and all witness's statements? The crime of scene photos and any results from forensics?" Robin rattled off.
"Sure, they've been getting a file ready for you this morning. We'll join the others for the briefing and if you have more questions feel free to ask," Gwenifer stood and they rose to follow her again, "I'll get you that file afterwards, and let you know any additional results we get from forensics,"
As they entered the open plan space the others came over so they all had a good view of
the investigation board where there was already a photo of Scutari and the family members with notes. Nico gave Robin a smirk and he gestured to a chair next to him but then Jess waved her over to a chair and Robin sat on it. Strike leant himself against a desk and waited for Gwenifer. Rather than Nico it was Jed who brought over their tea, Strike was relieved as after the look the two men had shared he'd have expected Nico to spit in it.
"So, the results of the autopsy should be ready this afternoon, Jess, you're coming with me and Strike,"
At this Nico huffed.
"Nico you have the mistress to go and interview, Robin can go with you," Gwenifer waved her hand in the air dismissively.
"Actually," Robin felt a little self-conscious interrupting but did so anyway, "Perhaps both of us could attend the autopsy, and we'll visit witness and suspects ourselves,"
Gwenifer levelled a stern look at Robin.
"We prefer to carry out interviews without any obvious associations with the police – it allows us some…latitude," Strike shrugged, raising an eyebrow at Gwenifer, "We can do things you can't,".
"Okay, I suppose that makes sense," Gwenifer conceded and continued with the meeting.