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Strike had never moved in the kinds of circles that dined at Cipriani It was only as he walked up Davies Street, the sun warlow to the red-brick building ahead, that he thought how odd it would be, yet not unlikely, if he ran into one of his half-siblings there Restaurants like Cipriani were part of the regular lives of Strike’s father’s legitimate children He had last heard fro physiotherapy Gabi and Danni had jointly sent flowers; Al had visited once, laughing too loudly and scared of looking at the lower end of the bed Afterwards, Charlotte had iood irl that beautiful to be funny, yet she was

The interior of the restaurant had an art deco feeling, the bar and chairs of mellow polished wood, with pale yellow tablecloths on the circular tables and white-jacketed, bow-tied waiters and waitresses Strike spotted his client i at a table set for four and talking, to Strike’s surprise, to tolossy brown hair Bristow’s rabbity face was full of the desire to please, or perhaps placate

The lawyer jureet Strike when he saw hiui, who held out a thin, cool hand, but did not smile, and her sister, Ursula May, who did not hold out a hand at all While the preli around ated, Bristow nervous and over-talkative throughout, the sisters subjected Strike to the kind of brazenly critical stares that only people of a certain class feel entitled to give

They were both as pristine and polished as life-size dolls recently reirl thin, alht jeans, with tanned faces that had a waxy sheen especially noticeable on their foreheads, their long, gleas, the ends trimmed with spirit-level exactitude

When Strike finally chose to look up from his menu, Tansy said, without preamble:

“Are you really” (she pronounced it “rarely”) “Jonny Rokeby’s son?”

“So the DNA test said,” he replied

She see funny or rude Her dark eyes were fractionally too close together, and the Botox and fillers could not smooth away the petulance in her expression

“Listen, I’ve just been telling John,” she said curtly “I’ain, OK? I’m perfectly happy to tell you what I heard, because I’d love you to prove I was right, but you mustn’t tell anyone I’ve talked to you”

The unbuttoned neck of her thin silk shirt revealed an expanse of butterscotch skin stretched over her bony sternu an unattractively knobbly effect; yet two full, firh they had been borrowed for the day froured friend “We could have met somewhere more discreet,” commented Strike

“No, it’s fine, because nobody here will knoho you are You don’t look anything like your father, do you? I met him at Elton’s last summer Freddie knows him D’you see much of Jonny?”

“I’ve met him twice,” said Strike

“Oh,” said Tansy

The monosyllable contained equal parts of surprise and disdain

Charlotte had had friends like this; sleek-haired, expensively educated and clothed, all of thee yen for the enorainst them for years, by phone and in person, with their clipped vowels and their stockbroker husbands, and the brittle toughness Charlotte had never been able to fake

“I don’t think she should be talking to you at all,” said Ursula abruptly Her tone and expression would have been appropriate had Strike been a waiter who had just thrown aside his apron and joined the mistake, Tanz”

Bristow said: “Ursula, Tansy simply—”

“It’s up to h Bristow had not spoken, as though his chair was e to say what I heard, that’s all It’s all off the record; John’s agreed to that”

Evidently she too viewed Strike as domestic class He was irked not only by their tone, but also by the fact that Bristoas giving witnesses assurances without his say-so How could Tansy’s evidence, which could have come from nobody but her, be kept off the record?

For a few moments all four of them ran their eyes over the culinary options in silence Ursula was the first to put down her lass of wine She helped herself to another, and glanced restlessly around the restaurant, her eyes lingering for a second on a blondeon

“This place used to be full of the most fabulous people, even at lunchtio to bloody Wiltons, with all the other stiffs in suits…”

“Is Cyprian your husband, Mrs May?” asked Strike

He guessed that it would needle her if he crossed what she evidently saw as an invisible line between theave hiht to her conversation She scowled, and Bristow rushed to fill the uncomfortable pause

“Yes, Ursula’s married to Cyprian May, one of our senior partners”

“So I’ the fahtly bitter smile

“And her ex will go absolutely ballistic if she starts dragging the press back into their lives,” Ursula said, her dark eyes boring into Strike’s “They’re trying to thrash out a settlement It could seriously prejudice her aliain So you’d better be discreet”

With a bland smile, Strike turned to Tansy:

“You had a connection with Lula Landry, then, Mrs Bestigui? Your brother-in-laorks with John?”

“It never ca bored

The waiter returned to take their orders When he had left, Strike took out his notebook and pen

“What are you doing with those?” de written down! John?” she appealed to Bristoho turned to Strike with a flustered and apologetic expression

“D’you think you could just listen, Cor?”

“No proble histhe notebook and pen “Mrs Bestigui—”

“You can call h this concession made up for her objections to the notebook

“Thanks very much,” said Strike, with the merest trace of irony “Hoell did you know Lula?”

“Oh, hardly at all She was only there for three months It was just ‘Hi’ and ‘Nice day’ She wasn’t interested in us, eren’t nearly hip enough for her It was a bore, to be honest, having her there Paps outside the front door all the tiym”

“Isn’t there a gy?” asked Strike

“I do Pilates with Lindsey Parr,” said Tansy, irritably “You sound like Freddie; he was always co that I didn’t use the facilities at the flat”

“And hoell did Freddie know Lula?”

“Hardly at all, but that wasn’t for lack of trying He had so to invite her downstairs She never cah And he followed her to Dickie Carbury’s house, the weekend before she died, while I ith Ursula”

“I didn’t know that,” said Bristow, looking startled

Strike noticed Ursula’s quick smirk at her sister He had the ie of coe

“I didn’t know until later,” Tansy told Bristow “Yah, Freddie cadged an invitation froroup of them there: Lula, Evan Duffield, Ciara Porter, all that tabloidy, druggie, trendy gang Freddie must have stuck out like a sore thumb I know he’s

not much older than Dickie, but he looks ancient,” she added spitefully

“What did your husband tell you about the weekend?”

“Nothing I only found out he’d been there weeks later, because Dickie let it slip I’h”

“Do you mean,” asked Strike, “that he was interested in Lula sexually, or…?”

“Oh yah, I’irls better than blondes What he really loves, though, is getting a bit of celebrityto crowbar in celebrities, to get a bit of extra press I’ll bet he was hoping to get her signed up for a film, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” Tansy added, with unexpected shrewdness, “if he had soine the press, with the fuss there was already about the two of theenius for that stuff He loves publicity for his films as much as he hates it for himself”

“Does he know Deeby Macc?”

“Not unless they’ve met since we separated He hadn’t met Macc before Lula died God, he was thrilled that Macc was co him the moment he heard”

“Casting him as what?”

“I don’t know,” she said irritably “Anything Macc’s got a huge following; Freddie wasn’t going to pass that chance up He’d probably have had a part written specially for him if he’d been interested Oh, he would have been all over hirandmother” Tansy’s voice was contemptuous “That’s what he always does when he meets famous black people: tells them he’s a quarter Malay Yeah, whatever, Freddie”