1 The Cuckoo's Calling

“Seventeenth of March,” said Strike.
“Yeah. St. Patrick’s Day.”
“Ten weeks after she died.”
“Could’ve been the police,” suggested Spanner.
“It wasn’t the police,” said Strike.
After Spanner had left, he hurried into the outer office and displaced Robin, so
that he could view the photographs that had been removed from the laptop. He
could feel Robin’s anticipation as he explained to her what Spanner had done and
opened up the file on the memory stick.
Robin was afraid, for a fraction of a second, as the first photograph bloomed
onscreen, that they were about to see something horrible; evidence of criminality
or perversion. She had only heard about the concealment of pictures online in the
context of dreadful abuse cases. After several minutes, however, Strike voiced
her own feelings.
“Just social snaps.”
He did not sound as disappointed as Robin felt, and she was a little ashamed of
herself; had she wanted to see something awful? Strike scrolled down, through
pictures of groups of giggling girls, fellow models, the occasional celebrity.
There were several pictures of Lula with Evan Duffield, a few of them clearly
taken by one or other of the pair themselves, holding the camera at arm’s length,
both of them apparently stoned or drunk. Somé made several appearances; Lula
looked more formal, more subdued, by his side. There were many of Ciara Porter
and Lula hugging in bars, dancing in clubs and giggling on a sofa in somebody’s
crowded flat.
“That’s Rochelle,” said Strike suddenly, pointing to a sullen little face
glimpsed under Ciara’s armpit in a group shot. Kieran Kolovas-Jones had been
roped into this picture; he stood at the end, beaming.
“Do me a favor,” said Strike, when he had finished trawling through all two
hundred and twelve pictures. “Go through these for me, and try and at least
identify the famous people, so we can make a start on finding out who might
have wanted the photos off her laptop.”
“But there’s nothing incriminating here at all,” said Robin.
“There must be,” said Strike.
He returned to his inner office, where he placed calls to John Bristow (in a
meeting, and not to be disturbed; “Please get him to call me as soon as you can”),
to Eric Wardle (voicemail: “I’ve got a question about Lula Landry’s laptop”) and