Lynley cut in, "hang on. I can't do anything about this. It's just not on."
"You can talk to her," Hale replied. "If you're showing her the ropes like she claimed you are, then show her that one. Can you see Webberly ...or yourself ...or even John Stewart, and God knows John's obsessive enough ... ? Come on, Tommy."
"She's got a lot on her plate."
"You can't tell me she won't listen to you. I've seen how she ...Oh hell."
"Seen how she what?"
"She got you to come back to work. We all know that. There's a reason for it, and likely it's personal. So use the reason."
"There's no personal - "
"Tommy. For God's sake. Don't play at being blind when no one else is."
Lynley didn't reply for a moment. He considered what had passed between himself and Ardery: how things looked and what they were. He finally said he'd see what he could do although he reckoned it would be little enough.
He phoned the acting superintendent, but Ardery's mobile went immediately to her voice message. He asked her to ring him, and he kept onward to his car. She wasn't his responsibility, he thought. If she asked his advice, he could certainly give it. But the point was to let her sink or swim without his interference, no matter what anyone else wanted from him. In what other way could she show that she was up to the job?
He made his way over to Bloomsbury. The second call on his mobile came while he was stuck in traffic in the vicinity of Green Park station. This time it was Winston Nkata ringing him.
Barb Havers, he said, in "best Barb fashion" was on her way to defying the superintendent's instructions that she remain in London. She was, he went on, driving down to Hampshire. He had not been able to talk her out of it. "You know Barb" was how Winston put it.
"She'll listen to you, man," Nkata said. "Cos she bloody well i'n't listening to me."
"Christ," Lynley muttered, "she's a maddening woman. What's she up to, then?"
"The weapon," Nkata said. "She recognised it."
"What d'you mean? She knows who it belongs to?"
"She knows what it is. So do I. We di'n't see the picture of it till today. Di'n't have a look at the china board before this morning. And what it is narrows the field to Hampshire."
"It's not like you to keep me in suspense, Winston."
"Called a crook," Nkata told him. "We saw 'em by the crate in Hampshire, when we talked to that bloke Ringo Heath."
"The master thatcher."
"Tha's the bloke. Crooks's what's used to hold reeds in place when you're putting them on a roof. Not exactly something we'd be used to seeing in London, eh, but in Hampshire? Any place they got thatched roofs and thatchers, you're goin' to see crooks."
"Jossie," Lynley said.
"Or Hastings. Cos these're made by hand. Crooks, that is."
"Hastings? Why?" Then Lynley remembered. "He trained as a blacksmith."
"And blacksmiths're the ones who make the crooks. Each one makes 'em different, see.
They end up - "
"Like fingerprints," Lynley concluded.
"Tha's about it. Which's why Barb's heading down there. She said she'd ring Ardery first, but you know Barb. So I thought you might ...you know. Barb'll listen to you. Like I said, she wasn't having anything off me."
Lynley cursed beneath his breath. He rang off. Traffic began moving, so he continued on his way, determined to track down Havers via mobile as soon as he could. He hadn't managed this when his mobile rang again. This time it was Ardery.
"Where've you got with the coin dealer?" she asked.
He briefed her, telling her he was on his way to the British Museum. She said, "Excellent.
It's a motive, isn't it? And we've found no coin among her things, so someone took it off her at some point. We're getting somewhere at last. Good." She went on to tell him what Yukio Matsumoto had informed her: There had been two men in the vicinity of the chapel in Abney Park Cemetery, not just one. Indeed, there had been three, if they wanted to include Matsumoto himself. "We're working with him on an e-fit. His solicitor showed up while I was talking to him and we had something of a set-to - God, that woman's like a pit bull - but she's on board for the next two hours. As long as the Met admits culpability in Yukio's accident."
Lynley drew in a sharp breath. "Isabelle, Hillier's never going to go for that."