The Ink Black Heart, page 34
‘But then,’ said Strike, ‘Edie changed her mind, and decided to meet him face to face?’
‘Yeah. To tell him in person what she thought of him.’
‘Who called who?’ asked Strike.
‘He called her,’ said Ormond, ‘like I said. He kept doing it.’
‘Right,’ said Strike.
‘And finally she decided, “OK, let’s have it out.”’
‘Edie told you that, did she?’
‘Obviously, yeah,’ said Ormond impatiently.
‘So you knew they were meeting that afternoon?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Did you know where they were meeting?’
‘No,’ said Ormond. ‘I assumed it’d be in a café or what have you.’
‘And when Edie didn’t come home—?’
‘Well, obviously, I was worried. I’d been taking a detention at school that afternoon. Afterwards, I realised I’d been watching bloody Sophie Webster write lines when the actual – you know – when it happened. I got home expecting Edie to be there. She wasn’t. I waited. By eleven o’clock I was getting worried. I called the police round about a quarter to midnight.’
‘Did you try and call Edie during that time?’
‘A couple of times, yeah, but she didn’t pick up. The police put me on hold and – well, obviously, I knew then there was something up. I used to be a copper. I know how this stuff works. They asked me to describe Edie, which I did. Then they said they were going to send people out to talk to me.
‘They came to the flat and they told me a body matching my fiancée’s description had been found in Highgate Cemetery… I had to go and ID her.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Strike. ‘Must’ve been hell.’
‘Yeah,’ said Ormond, the undertone of aggression back in his voice. ‘It was.’
Strike looked over his notes. As far as Anomie went, he’d learned very little. He did, however, feel immeasurably better informed about Phillip Ormond.
‘Well… unless you’ve got any more thoughts or information on who Anomie might be—?’
‘Well, if you ask me,’ said Ormond, who seemed to relax slightly now that the end of the interview was in sight, ‘they’re seriously fucking disturbed. Whoever it is, even if it’s some kid hiding behind’ – he gestured vaguely towards his face, indicating a mask – ‘a keyboard, there’s something very fucking wrong with them. Four solid years, attacking someone online? What was Edie’s crime? Creating something they were supposed to love? No, I figure Anomie as the kind of person who’d do anything to save their own neck, who’d be happy to accuse anyone else or put suspicion on anyone else if it meant they got off.’
‘What makes you say that?’ asked Strike.
‘Just my gut feeling,’ Ormond said, before draining his glass of lager.
‘Well, I think that’s everything,’ said Strike untruthfully. ‘Oh yeah – just wondered – did you suggest our agency to Edie, or was that her idea?’
‘Did I what?’ said Ormond, frowning.
‘Edie came to see my partner, at our agency,’ Strike said.
It was easy to see Ormond’s pupils dilating, even in the not particularly bright light of the pub, because of the pallor of his blue irises. Evidently neither the police nor Allan Yeoman had told Edie’s supposed fiancé about her visit to the detective agency, and these omissions told Strike something significant about the police and the agent’s attitude to Ormond.
The teacher seemed to realise his pause had gone on too long for a lie.
‘Er – no, I – I had no idea. When was this?’
‘Ten days before the attacks.’
‘What did she want to do that for?’ said Ormond.
‘To ask us to help her find out who Anomie was.’
‘Oh,’ said Ormond. ‘Right. Yeah – actually – I didn’t know it was you she’d come to. She said she was thinking of – yeah, I thought it was a reasonable idea.’
‘But she didn’t tell you she’d done it?’
‘Actually,’ said Ormond, after another hesitation, ‘she might’ve done and it didn’t register. She was stressed as hell and I was busy at work – I might not’ve heard her properly or tuned out or something. I was very busy at work,’ he repeated. ‘Had an interview coming up, for department head.’
‘Did you get it?’
‘No,’ said Ormond, almost snapping.
‘Well, when she came to the agency, my partner noticed some bruising on—’
‘Oh, that was your partner, was it? Telling the cops I’d choked her?’
Ormond seemed to regret his display of temper as soon as it had escaped him. He stared at Strike with those pale blue, wide-set eyes, at a loss, it seemed to Strike, to know how to repair this last, damaging impression.
‘Nobody said anything about choking,’ said Strike. ‘My partner simply reported the bruising. Well, thanks very much for meeting me, Phillip. You’ve been extremely helpful.’
After a brief, loaded silence, Ormond got slowly to his feet.
‘No problem,’ he said in a clipped voice. ‘Good luck with the investigation.’
Strike held out his hand, ready to compete this time for hardest grip.
Ormond departed, and Strike knew the fingers of his right hand would be throbbing, a thought that gave him some petty satisfaction. Once the teacher had disappeared from view, Strike took out his mobile and typed a short text to a friend in the Metropolitan Police.
37
… the work was done; the new-made king
Had risen, and set his feet upon his realm,
And it acknowledged him.
Jean Ingelow
A Story of Doom
Robin was still watching her iPad when Strike found her at the corner table out of sight of the main bar. He was carrying a pint of London Pride for himself, and a second tomato juice for Robin, though he noticed she’d barely touched her first. Beside her iPad lay her mobile, which was face up and displaying Anomie’s Twitter feed, and on her other side lay her open notebook. Strike, who was quite adept at reading things the wrong way up, saw that Robin had made three columns headed with the names Worm28, Vilepechora and Paperwhite, and that she’d been making notes on all three. Worm28’s column seemed fullest.
‘Anomie in the game?’ Strike asked her as he sat down.
‘No,’ said Robin, glancing up and then immediately back at her screen. ‘He hasn’t been in here all the time you were with Ormond. Sorry, I’m going to have to keep typing. There’s a moderator in here called Worm28 who was online friends with Beth. It’s either a gay man or a girl, because they’re in a relationship with an unnamed man I’m supposed to know about. They’ve confided in Beth a lot. They thought they’d driven her out of the game by telling her all their problems.’
‘Twenty-eight,’ commented Strike, ‘is another hate symbol.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Second letter of the alphabet, eighth letter: BH. Stands for blood and honour. Blood and Honour are a neo-Nazi skinhead group.’
‘I can’t see Worm28 as a neo-Nazi skinhead,’ said Robin as she typed. ‘If I had to bet one way or the other, I’d say it was a girl and quite a young one. Possibly dyslexic. Her spelling’s wonky and her punctuation’s all over the place… if you’re looking for a possible Halvening member, though, Vilepechora seems a bloody good candidate. Wait… Oh, thank God. Worm28 needs the loo.’
Robin turned her iPad so that Strike could see it. He moved his chair in: Robin felt his knee bump hers.
‘The players talk out in the open game,’ she said while Strike sipped his pint and watched the animated figures moving among the graves. Like Robin, he was struck by the unsettling beauty of the animation, with its shifting mist and looming tombs. ‘But moderators are able to open private channels to talk to anyone they want and nobody else can see what they’re saying. Worm28 and Vilepechora both opened private channels with me right after I entered the game.’
‘What makes you think Vilepechora could be Halvening?’
‘Homophobic as hell,’ said Robin. ‘Told me I was a pervert.’
‘Nice,’ said Strike.
‘I’m pretty sure he’s male. He’s also drunk. He told me so three times. He says he’s bored of the game and when I asked why he was still in here he said “intel”.’
‘“Intel”?’ repeated Strike. ‘Very interesting indeed.’
‘And he told me Anomie killed Ledwell.’
She glanced up to see Strike’s reaction.
‘Did he now?’
‘Under the guise of banter,’ said Robin, looking back at the game. ‘The only other moderator I’ve spoken to is Paperwhite. She asked me if I needed help navigating the game and gave me some hints about getting into an expanded area that’s been created since Beth was last in here. She didn’t open a private channel, she just offered to help out in the open game. I don’t actually know that she’s female, obviously, I’m just assuming so because of the user name. No personal chat.’
Strike was watching the sidebar of player arrivals and departures.
‘If I log out,’ said Robin, turning the iPad back towards herself, ‘you can tell me about Ormond.’
‘Stay logged in,’ said Strike, ‘so we can keep an eye out for Anomie. I’d like to see how they behave in there. Can you tell this Worm person you’ve got to go and do something offline for a bit?’
‘“Need – to – take – clothes – out – of – washing – machine,”’ said Robin, typing. ‘“Back – in – a – bit.”’
She sat back with an air of relief, drank some tomato juice and readjusted the angle of the iPad so that both of them could continue watching it.
‘How was Ormond?’
‘Ormond,’ said Strike, ‘was quite interesting. Not what I was expecting. He’s a computing teacher and ex-police.’
‘Really?’ said Robin.
‘Yeah, and if I had to bet either way, I’d say they weren’t in a relationship prior to her trying to kill herself. I think he took advantage of her being vulnerable to ask her to stay at his place, and she found it hard to get out again. I asked about the fingertip bruising to the neck. He didn’t like that much.’
‘You amaze me,’ said Robin.
‘I’m sceptical about the supposed engagement as well. I think Heather Ledwell was right: he’s pissed off he’s not going to get a penny out of her estate or any financial benefit from the cartoon if it’s made into a movie. He mentioned her not having written a will. But he hasn’t given up hope of benefiting: he spent half the interview positioning himself as a writer. He claims he was collaborating with her on future storylines and that she wanted him to have a writing credit if the film happened. I asked whether this had all been put in writing and no, the ideas are all in his head. He’s emailed Maverick to offer his services but they haven’t got back to him.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Robin quietly.
‘There were a few other interesting points. For one, he says Edie told him she was going to meet Josh the afternoon she was killed but claims he didn’t know exactly where they planned to meet. The fishy bit is that he said Blay called her to suggest the meeting. Either Ormond or Katya’s got it wrong and my money’s on Ormond. My suspicion is he had no idea she was going to meet Blay, which begs the question, why lie? If he’s worried about being suspected of the stabbings it would make more sense to tell the truth and say he had no idea they were meeting. It’s an odd half-lie, saying he knew they were meeting but not where. ’Course, it might be ego: he doesn’t want to look like a bloke whose girlfriend’s meeting her ex on the sly. He strikes me as that type.
‘Also – and this is definitely strange,’ said Strike, flicking open his notebook. ‘He told me he thinks Anomie’s “the kind of person who’d do anything to save their own neck”, specifically that they’d try and blame or throw suspicion on someone else. I asked him why he was saying that, and he told me it was just a “gut feeling”, but I found that pretty bloody suggestive. Sounds to me like he thinks Anomie might have something on him.’
‘But that surely means he knows who it is?’
‘You’d think so, but he wasn’t in any hurry to tell me who he thinks it might be. The reverse: he dismissed everyone I mentioned. Incidentally, he says Edie ruled Kea out. Observed her on the street without a digital device while Anomie was in the game.’
‘Oh,’ said Robin. ‘Well, that’s useful to know.’
‘Yeah… One last weird thing Ormond said. I asked whether he thought Anomie might have killed Edie and he said, “I’ve got no reason to say it was him.”’
‘“I’ve got no reason to say it was him,”’ repeated Robin. ‘Odd form of words.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ said Strike. ‘Why not just say no?’
The phone in his pocket rang. He took it out. The caller ID was hidden. The suspicion it would be Charlotte made him hesitate, but after a couple of seconds he answered.
‘Strike.’
He could hear breathing. The line was crackly. Then a very deep, sonorous voice said:
‘If you want the truth, dig Edie Ledwell up.’
The line went dead.
Robin could tell by Strike’s expression that something out of the ordinary had just happened. Her immediate thought was Charlotte. Then she wondered whether it could be Madeline who’d made his face go blank.
Strike lowered the mobile and looked at it as though the caller ID might somehow materialise.
‘I’ve just been told,’ he said, looking back up at Robin, ‘to “dig Edie Ledwell up” if I want to know the truth.’
‘What?’
‘“If you want the truth, dig Edie Ledwell up,”’ repeated Strike.
They stared at each other.
‘What did the voice sound like?’
‘Darth Vader. Could’ve been a voice-changing device or a genuine bass tenor. The line wasn’t good.’
‘A few weeks back,’ said Robin, ‘there was a hashtag trending on Twitter. “Exhume Ledwell”.’
‘Any particular reason, or just a bit of edgy fun?’ said Strike, putting the phone back in his pocket.
‘Some troll said she’d probably faked her own murder to get sympathy and they should dig up the body to make sure.’
‘Well, if it’s a troll calling me, they know we’re on the case. I hope to Christ neither of us has been recognised while we’ve been keeping suspects under surveillance.’
‘Look,’ said Robin with a sudden gasp, pointing at the iPad. ‘He’s there!’
A unique figure had appeared on the screen. It looked nothing like any of the other figures – the drifting imitations of pretty Paperwhite, the bobbing Harty-ish hearts or the wandering skeletons. This was an empty cloak, which rippled as though it stood in a wind. There was no face: the being inside the cloak was invisible. Though animated simply, it was odd how eerie it was. The legend Anomie MOD was suspended over its head. The figure began to ‘talk’, the type appearing across its non-existent face.
Anomie: Good evening children
And the avatars of the other players clustered round, type appearing across each of their faces as they greeted him.
Inky101: Anomie in da house!!!!!
Mr_Drek_D: How u doin bwah?
Hartsore9: Anomie, please unban Harty192 he didn’t mean it
Paperwhite MOD: evening
InkHart4evs: Anomie, my bwah!
Vilepechora MOD: All hail the king emperor
Magspy7: Anomie, fkn loving watchin you drag Grunt on Twitter!
WyrdyOne: We gonna go to Comic Con, Anomie?
Anomie responded to none of them, but floated towards Strike and Robin, and the latter, though she knew it was totally unreasonable – they were sitting in a pub, and this figure was no more than pixels on a screen – felt a shiver of actual fear. Anomie came so close to Buffypaws that the empty hood of his cloak filled almost the entire screen.
Anomie MOD: You’ve come back
Robin hastily reached out to type, leaving the screen in position so Strike could see what was happening.
Buffypaws: yeah I missed this place
Anomie MOD: favourite animal?
‘Dog,’ said Strike.
‘No,’ said Robin, typing. ‘I checked.’
Buffypaws: cat obvs
‘God, I hope that’ll do,’ said Robin. ‘I didn’t get much else.’
Anomie MOD: favourite sexual position?
Robin stared at this question, very aware that Strike didn’t have anything to offer this time. After a few seconds, she began to type with a sense of risking everything on one throw:
Buffypaws: seem to remember I told u to fuck off when you asked last time
She and Strike watched the screen. Robin had a feeling Strike, too, was holding his breath.
Anomie MOD: lol
Anomie MOD: yeah u did
‘Bloody well done,’ said Strike.
Anomie MOD: now ask me what you came back to find out
Robin hesitated.
Buffypaws: what do u mean?
Anomie MOD: did I kill E*** L******?
Robin’s hands hovered uncertainly over the keyboard panel, but before she could respond, Anomie had spoken again.
Anomie MOD: I did. And you’re welcome.
Anomie turned and floated away, and as the empty cloak moved off through the Ink Black Heart characters, they made their feelings known.
Vilepechora MOD: I fkn told her u did! lololol
DaddyDrek: hahahahahahaha
InkHart4evs: fkn legend lol
Mr_Drek_D: roflmao
Hartsore9: omg don’t joke
GhostyHi: lol
WyrdyOne: we bow to our fucking king
