Author's Note: "There are none so blind as those who will not see." is (I think) originally by Jonathon Swift.

A reminder that "Tom" (as in Peeping) is the nickname the partners gave to the man who bugged Robin's apartment.

Chapter Three

That night, the detectives are cuddling in Strike's bed when Robin remembers to say, "You know that schizophrenic doesn't necessarily mean homicidal, right?"

"Of course. Old Man Whittaker was deluded about his wife similarly to how I was deluded about Charlotte for many years. None so blind as those who will not see. Lady Whittaker calmly planned and implemented a murder so perfect that it was ruled a suicide and stayed that way for more than two decades. She must have only ever confessed to her husband, which means she knew it was wrong. Whatever else she was, whatever she suffered, I'll remember her as the cold-blooded killer who murdered my mother for the crime of loving her children."

Robin expels a weak laugh, and says, "Well, that answers my question."

Strike holds her tight for a second, and says, "Sorry. This is all still a bit raw."

"Of course; it was only yesterday. You did well, keeping your animosity hidden from him."

With a shrug, he comments, "That's the job."

"But I think you're getting better at it. You're not the same guy who regularly looked like he was going to punch interviewees."

He kisses her forehead and says, "No doubt due to your calming influence."

Robin laughs and counters, "Or you're getting better at your job."

"Agree to disagree, then."

They're quiet for a while, and then Robin asks, "So, what is your mother's middle name?"

"No idea. This entire episode is making me realise I know hardly anything about her that can't be Googled by the average punter."

"You knew she didn't kill herself, accidentally or not."

"True. But I'm beginning to think that Leda Strike is the biggest mystery I've never solved."

After a moment, Robin says, "I dunno; her youngest son is fairly mysterious. Did you get any impression from Sir Randolph that Switch or whatever we're calling him is dangerous?"

"Let's just call him 'Tom'. And, no, not exactly. Hopefully Wardle can find out more. If we can at least get a recent picture of him, we can be on our guard."

"But...if he's Tom, he's not going to confront us, is he? Remember I thought someone might have given Littlejohn and Navabi information on us."

Strike gives it some thought, and then says, "Yeah, it fits. But, even then, he didn't actually hurt us. It's like lingchi: death of a thousand cuts. You know it?"

"I heard it as being pecked to death by ducks, but similar idea. And, Strike, no matter how prolonged the process, it still amounts to dead. I don't mean that he literally wants to kill you, only that such...guerilla tactics could still cause harm."

"Yeah, maybe. After all, if you weren't so diligent about your mental health, you might have had another panic attack seeing Littlejohn in that alley. And traffic stops can easily go wr..." Suddenly sitting up and reaching for his phone, Strike exclaims, "Fuck, I need to call Shanker."

"What is it?"

"He was stabbed checking out that warehouse, because he heard that Russians were trafficking girls out of there. Shanker will tolerate a lot, but not someone treating girls and women like pieces of meat. But you saw that news report; there were no Russians involved in herensuge, and the only thing they were trafficking was information." On seeing that Robin is reaching for her clothes, he asks, "Going somewhere?"

"Only to fetch my laptop. We're not getting to sleep now."

"Yeah, you're right. Would you grab mine too? And maybe put the kettle on?"

She flashes him a grin on her way to the kitchen, saying, "Yes, boss."

Shanker answers the phone with, "Shouldn' you be packin'?"

Reminded that Shanker has never been overseas, Strike says, "I don't have much to pack, and we're waiting on paperwork anyway. Hey, that tip you got about the warehouse where you were stabbed. Who gave it to you?"

After a few seconds, Shanker asks, "Why do you wanna know?"

"I'm not after a name. Just whether it was someone you trust."

"'Course it were someone I trust. Wha' the fuck are you on abaht?"

Trying to remember how much he's told Shanker about yesterday's revelations, Strike explains, "We think it's Switch—or whatever he's calling himself nowadays—my half-brother. That he's been monitoring the agency and dropping bits of information where they will do the most harm. Are you able to ask your trusted source where he got the information?"

"No' wivvout a fuckin' good reason. I've already got a battle on me 'ands 'cos I stopped dealin'. I can't be callin' folk liars too."

"Yeah, all right. Well, the cops are looking into him, so hopefully we'll know more soon. In the meantime, watch your back, okay?"

As usual, Shanker hangs up without another word. From the kitchen, Robin soon asks, "Any joy?"

"Not really. I gather that he can't risk checking out his source or he might end up stabbed again."

"Then I don't suppose we can add his incident to the list we gave Wardle?"

"I didn't bother asking. He got quite shirty about me asking any questions."

Robin then enters the room, two laptops under one arm and carrying two mugs of tea in the other hand. She squats to gently drop the computers onto the bed, and passes Strike his tea, saying, "He's probably troubled because the power dynamic between you two has shifted."

Strike grins, and teases, "You sound like a former psych student."

Putting her tea aside, she gets into bed and retrieves her laptop, saying, "Doesn't mean it's not true. Shanker was your sort-of brother and occasional friend-in-need for most of your life. Now you're his boss. He doesn't know what the rules are anymore."

"Of course he knows; signed a contract to that effect."

Robin rolls her eyes, accusing, "You're being deliberately obtuse. You know very well that I'm talking about social interactions, emotional boundaries, rules of engagement in relationships."

"Yeah, I don't think Shanker will ever want to discuss his feelings."

She gently nudges him, saying, "You mean that you don't want to discuss your feelings."

Strike nudges her back, admitting, "Seldom if ever."

She laughs and opens her laptop, saying, "Okay, hunting your half-brother it is. Got a place to start?"

"Anton LaVey, founder of the Church of Satan."

"I'm sorry?"

"Whittaker was obsessed with him. I don't think the name 'Switch' has anything to do with gadgets. I never bothered confirming it, but always assumed it's a contraction of 'The Satanic Witch', one of LaVey's books." Robin is still staring at him, in understandable confusion, so he clarifies, "S-Witch...Switch."

"Okay, so you think...what?"

Already typing, Strike explains, "LaVey was born Howard Stanton Levey, a nice Jewish boy from Chicago. If Maureen had anything to do with the name change, I bet she tried to keep reference to LaVey in there somehow."

"And if she didn't?"

He shrugs, saying, "We're fucked, and will have to wait for Wardle. Would the old man have kept the surname?"

After a moment, Robin suggests, "I think he'd change it to 'Whittaker'. Remember, he believes that he tried to do right by Switch."

Strike snorts a laugh, and says, "Stupid old fool should have left his wife decades ago."

"Bit of pot-kettle, darling."

"Charlotte never murdered anyone. And I left her when she claimed to be carrying my kid, because I knew that was a fucking lie. The only time LaVey made sense was when he said it's a pity that stupidity isn't painful, and he probably stole it from someone else, given he was a proven plagiarist." Strike types away for quite a while, until he finally notices that Robin isn't, and looks to see her apparently asleep, facing away from him. Putting his laptop to one side, he strokes her hair, asking, "Awright, Rob?"

"Just tired. You can keep working. It doesn't bother me."

"Is it about Charlotte?"

"I'm fine."

"Yes, you are, but please talk to me."

"I have."

Reliving their most recent discussion about his ex, Strike asks, "You want me to stop badmouthing Charlotte?"

"No, I just..." Turning onto her back, but without looking at him, Robin explains, "I get worried, because you loved her for sixteen years, and now...God, it's like I can feel the resentment coming off you when you even say her name. I guess that it makes me wonder if you could ever feel like that about me."

Despite the gravity of her mood, the comparison makes him laugh a little, and he maintains, "One teensy problem with your theory is that you and Charlotte are nothing alike. Other than her undeniable physical appeal, anything else was a fantasy I created in my head. But you; you're everything I've ever wanted, and a few that I didn't know I needed. There's just no way that_"

"You don't know what's going to happen, so don't say you'll never stop loving me."

Noting the hint of anger in Robin's voice, he tries to think of the correct words to reassure her. But the trouble is that he agrees with her; they don't know what will happen next. "You're right."

Reaching to close his laptop, and stowing it beside the bed, he turns back and puts an arm over her midriff, while resting his head beside hers. And Robin, sounding a little happier, asks, "What are you doing?"

"My fiancée is in need of comfort, so I'm offering said comfort. Earlier today, I had to tell my sister the details of how our mother was murdered, and I honestly didn't think even you could make me feel better after a morning like that. But you did." Daring to hold a little closer, he reminds Robin, "And this is how you did it." When he feels her relax, he concludes, "See, I listen."

Robin turns to kiss him, and then says, "Yes, you do. I feel better now, thank you. If we don't know the future, then there's no point worrying about it either." Gently urging him with a hand on his forearm, she says, "Go, find your brother."

Since the day they met, he's enjoyed showing off for Robin. Right now, he shrugs and brags, "Already did; a Stanton Howard Whittaker was christened in the Anglican church nearest their family home."

"You hacked a church?"

"Spanner maintains that it doesn't count as hacking if they don't take precautions. Reminds me, he wants to come work for us full-time. I'm not sure Cyber Investigator is a thing, but that's what he's calling it. What do you think? It would mean an initial outlay for the hardware, and I don't know where we'd put him. But we could really churn through cases like insurance fraud, debtor tracing and background checks, leaving us free to do the more interesting work."

Robin kisses him and says, "I love you."

Thrilled that she seems okay, he asks, "All better?"

"Yes. You just reminded me that I own half the company. You'll never dump me."

Strike isn't talking about contracts when he vows, "No, I won't."