1 The Cuckoo's Calling

“Thought you might like to know your tip-off’s paid dividends,” said Eric
Wardle, who sounded triumphant. Strike could hear engine noise and the sound
of men talking in the background.
“Quick work,” commented Strike.
“Yeah, well, we don’t hang around.”
“Does this mean I’m going to get what I was after?”
“That’s what I’m calling about. It’s a bit late today, but I’ll bike it over
Monday.”
“Sooner rather than later suits me. I can hang on here at the office.”
Wardle laughed a little offensively.
“You get paid by the hour, don’t you? I’d’ve thought it suited you to string it
out a bit.”
“Tonight would be better. If you can get it here this evening, I’ll make sure
you’re the first to know if my old mate drops any more tip-offs.”
In the slight pause that followed, Strike heard one of the men in the car with
Wardle say:
“…Fearney’s fucking face…”
“Yeah, all right,” said Wardle. “I’ll get it over later. Might not be till seven.
Will you still be there?”
“I’ll make sure I am,” Strike replied.
The file arrived three hours later, while he was eating fish and chips out of a
small polystyrene tray in his lap and watching the London evening news on his
portable television. The courier buzzed the outer door and Strike signed for a
bulky package sent from Scotland Yard. Once unwrapped, a thick gray folder full
of photocopied material was disclosed. Strike took it back to Robin’s desk, and
began the lengthy process of digesting the contents.
Here were statements from those who had seen Lula Landry during the final
evening of her life; a report on the DNA evidence lifted from her flat;
photocopied pages of the visitors’ book complied by security at number 18,
Kentigern Gardens; details of the medication Lula had been prescribed to control
bipolar disorder; the autopsy report; medical records for the previous year;
mobile phone and landline records; and a precis of the findings on the model’s
laptop. There was also a DVD, on which Wardle had scribbled CCTV 2 Runners.
The DVD drive on Strike’s secondhand computer had not worked since he
acquired it; he therefore slipped the disc into the pocket of the overcoat hanging