The Hallmarked Man Real-time Re-read Chapter 68: The most painful chapter in the book.

"Wooden tables were set outside, 
sheltered by square blue umbrellas."

We are now heading into the last chapter in Part Five, Chapter 68, the disastrous debrief in the Swan Taphouse in Ironbridge. This exchange, I think, was particularly disappointing because the pub was one of the Twitter hints that Galbraith dropped prior to publication. Given that swans have such a connection to romance in the Strike series,  it was not expected to be the site of Strike and Robin's worst fight since Mucky Ricci, and possibly since Noel Brockbank. And, in some ways, this fight was more painful to watch: the two others were both about Robin doing something in the context of a case that she felt was necessary, but which Strike didn't like. Brutal as it was, there was only one real issue to reconcile on to restore the relationship. This time, we see the partners and alleged best friends take multiple, and highly personal shots at each other. 

“I think we can get back down to the High Street that way," said Robin, looking at an almost vertically descending lane just around the corner from Griffiths’ house, which seemed to lead towards the foot of the hill, "but—”

This is some interesting symbolism.  There is a faster and more direct route to get where they want to be, but they have to go a longer way, and it is entirely because of Strike. As he will later say to his goldfish doppelgänger, it's his own fault: he chose to get drunk and leave his prothesis on for the overnight train trip, then take a walk on slippery grass without his cane, all for an interview he, by his own admission, scheduled for the sake of an overnight trip to the Lake District with Robin rather than to its importance to the case. Add that to the earlier jealousy he expressed about RFM "gamboling up the hill like a f*cking gazelle" and you can see why Strike starts this lunch in physical and mental state that destines it to turn out bad. Robin doesn't help by declining to go see Wynn Jones with him, claiming her interview with Fyola Fay the next morning. Strike, of course, blames house-hunting with Murphy. They also sit outside in the cold, as opposed to the cozy pubs where they've often chatted in the past, and the later fire they'll sit by in the inn on Sark. 

Poor Robin doesn't get her chicken nachos.

Robin is determined to focus on the case, while Strike is looking for ways to ease the tension. After a chat about Tyler's supposed WhatsApp messages and Robin's voicemail to his current phone number, they place their lunch orders and start catching each other up about what they learned during their time apart. And the discussion spirals into a row before their food can be prepared. 

• Strike tells Robin what he learned on the train about Oliver Branfoot being in the same masonic lodge as DCI Truman, which makes her feel dread at RFM's reaction to them looking into police corruption. 
• Robin mentions the interview with Vile-lentine Longcaster and Strike guesses what was said as well as he did Charlotte's suicide note, which puts him on the defensive and feels like a "blow to the gut" and a stripping of self respect "in front of the person whose good opinion mattered to him more than any other's." 
• Robin's discomfort always rises at the mention of Charlotte. 
• Robin then goes on to tell about the ceremonial dagger encounter with the gorilla-masked man on the street. Strike immediately gets angry that she didn't call him. 

“What could you have done?’ said Robin coolly. ‘You were in Scotland."

"I told you, and you agreed, if you went anywhere alone, you were to tell me. We agreed, after Shanker, after that bloke in Harrods, and with all these fucking phone calls, the last one specifically targeting you—"

"'Bitch' might have meant Kim or Midge*, and I can’t ring you literally every time I’m somewhere alone," said Robin, her tone no longer measured. "It was a well-lit residential street, and he didn’t actually hurt—"

• Strike then blurts out about the "G" painted on the office door, apparently forgetting he hadn't actually told her about it, which triggers the most poorly chosen words of the row. 

“Why didn’t you tell me a 'G' was painted on the door?"

"Somebody’s clearly decided you’re the weak link—"

The moment the words had left his mouth he wished them unspoken. Robin had blanched in anger. Kim’s jibes about her lack of police training and her own awareness that she should have spotted her tail the previous day were doing battle with her desire to point out Strike’s sheer audacity in suggesting she was the person letting the agency down, when his shenanigans with women were drawing down so much negative press—

• An immediate apology now might have defused the argument, but unfortunately, Strike decides to explain what he meant without expressing regret. 

“I didn’t mean “weak link” in terms of – I mean," Strike blustered, "you’re a woman, aren’t you, and Branfoot knows he’s got something his goons can scare you with—"

"We haven’t got a shred of evidence Branfoot’s got anything to do with those men," said Robin furiously.

"Who else connected to this case has got a bunch of thugs to do his bidding? 'Or he might send someone,' Wright said. You’re the one who spotted Branfoot’s pal from Ramsay Silver in the paper. Branfoot’s at the same fucking lodge as the senior investigating officer—"

"I know that, I’m capable of retaining information you told me two minutes ago!"

• This line is a lot like her "I learned counting in school" comeback in Troubled Blood, when Strike gave her an unnecessary reminder of their timeline, but, in that case, she immediately apologized.  This time, she comes back at Strike with a line she knows will hurt him in return. 

“But as I’m not the one who’s given Branfoot an excuse to slag us off in the tabloids—"

Stung on the raw, Strike now lost his cool himself.

"Sure it’s bad press worrying you?"

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Don’t want us investigating a masonic lodge full of Met officers?"

“This has got nothing to do with Ryan!" said Robin, angrily and untruthfully. "I know the lodge thing’s a bit fishy, but we haven’t got—"

"'A bit fishy'? It stinks like a fucking prawn trawler!"

• Then comes a lengthy shouting match about how likely it is that Freemason Branfoot would order a murder that looks like a Masonic killing and arrange for a Freemason detective to investigate, for the sake of a double-bluff conclusion that no Freemason would have been involved in a murder that was so obviously set up to look Masonic. 

“We’ve pieced together a story about Branfoot and we haven’t got a shred of proof it’s true," said Robin hotly. "The cipher note and Branfoot’s friend shopping in Ramsay Silver and Branfoot bashing private detectives and Dick de Lion – they could all be completely unconnected!" 

"This, from the person who’s been urging me to make enquiries about a Belgian woman whose name vaguely resembles Rita Linda," said Strike, and instantly regretted it, as Robin’s face flooded with colour.

"I said from the start she might not be relevant, and for the record, she was Swedish, not Belgian—"

"My point—"

"I understand your point, thanks, weak leak though I am.”

• It's a bit ironic that the very lead Strike was going to at least pretend to take seriously on the train trip, for the sake of repairing his relationship with Robin, is now being used against her. What is also ironic in this exchange is how much of the "what" of the crime Strike gets right, but while missing the fact that the "who" is the person about whom they have just inquired. 

“OK," said Robin, returning to the offensive, "explain this: why would a porn star go and work in a masonic silver shop?"

"Set up," said Strike.

"Set up, how? By who?"

"What if what was meant to have happened to Knowles genuinely happened to de Lion? ...What if Oz and Medina lured de Lion to Ramsay Silver, telling him he’d be able to make a hundred grand off the back of it? Then the taking of the Murdoch silver makes sense – it was to make this look like a burglary and incidental murder, when in fact it was a murder and incidental robbery."

"And where’s the silver now?"

"I don’t bloody know, anywhere! Buried in the woods. Some anonymous lock up. Branfoot’s minted, he doesn’t need it.”

• Strike's version of the crime is exactly the version that Branfoot (and Shanker) believe to be true, because the hired hitman told Branfoot that Delion was the body in the vault, rather than admit Delion had slipped town before the job could be completed. 
•  In reality, "Oz" (aka Griffiths) and Jim Todd lured Tyler to Ramsay Silver, not with the promise of a lucrative heist but by convincing him this is the best way to establish a new identity so he can get his girlfriend away from her supposed father, who is, in reality an abuser, trafficker and murderer. It was a murder set up to look like a robbery and the perp did not need or even take the silver. 
• But, Strike and Robin are too busy fighting to pick out the truth from the various crime scenarios. Robin calls Strike out on his bias towards the SAS, and Strike retaliates by accusing her (not entirely without reason) of wanting to avoid investigating the police because of her boyfriend.  

“It’s your attitude I’m talking about – totally prepared to believe the worst of the police, whereas—"

"There are plenty of cunts in the army, as I should know, because I was bloody in it—"

"You said you were going to 'go in hard' on Branfoot – you think he’ll keep his mouth shut, if you start insinuating—?"

"Murphy know we’ve got pictures of the body, by any chance?" asked Strike. "Hacked off about it, is he?"

Robin felt the blood rush to her face again.

The text I've highlighted above is a bit odd. I've done a pretty thorough reading and word search and, despite the quotation marks, I can't find anywhere Strike has actually said this.  Does anyone have a guess as to what Robin means here?  In any case, as with Vile Longcaster, when he brought up the PP nickname, this is enough to make Robin decide they are done, so she gets up to leave, despite not having gotten her food yet. 

Strike makes one final grab at a lifeline by announcing his plans to buy the business a new Land Rover. If he thought this might placate Robin, he was wrong, as she responds with an icy "fine." Robin walks away, with many reasons to be furious with Strike, but decides she needs one more:

“Dev told me Bijou Watkins called the office. What did she want?"

For a split second, Strike looked just as stunned as she’d expected. Then he said,

"She wanted some advice."

"Oh, really?" said Robin, glaring down at him. "Advice on…?"

"She thinks Honbold’s playing around on her," invented Strike.

"Is that right?”

“Yeah. I told her to contact someone else. Said I didn’t want the job."

"So I can tell Dev there won’t be any more bad press about you and women?"

"I’ll tell him myself," said Strike.

"Great," said Robin, "because we don’t want to lose Dev. See you at the office."

The waitress comes back with two plates of food, to find Strike sitting alone and Robin walking away.  Thus, just as Part Five opens with a great line in Chapter 57, it closes with another one:

“I’ll eat them both," growled Strike, shifting his notebook out of the way.

I had planned to include Chapter 69 in this post, but this one is already quite long.  I'll cover 69 in a bonus post tomorrow, and pick up with the planned schedule on Tuesday. 

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*Much more likely to mean Kim, IMHO.