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“Well, Pearl wasn’t planted. She was seeking fucking asylum. Safety.”
“You didn’t know that then.”
“No, but something wasn’t adding up. I also knew she was twenty-one, and I’m a lot fucking older than twenty-one.”
“And you didn’t know she was a virgin?”
He reaches for his nose, pinching the bridge, inhaling. “No, I already told you that. Not the first time.”
“But the?—”
“Second, third, fourth, fifth time?” He throws his arms up. “Yes. I found out after the first time. Am I on trial?”
“Just trying to understand?—”
“I have something.” Otto gets up from the couch and walks across the office with his laptop open, taking it to Brad. “The guy who turned up at the club looking for Pearl. Is that him?”
Brad frowns at the screen. “Yeah, that’s him.”
Otto appears dazed. “That’s Hector Gillingham. Abductor and contract killer.”
“Excuse me?” Brad looks at me, like I can confirm what Otto’s said.
“The image you sent me wasn’t great after you’d made mash potato out of his face, so I started scanning face shapes in the system.”
“What the fuck?”
I couldn’t agree more. “How did you get that information?”
“I have my ways.” Otto goes back to his laptop, tapping furiously at the keys.
“Are you joking?” Ringo laughs. “Is there some kind of online store you browse when you’re in the market for a killer?”
“Hire a killer dot com,” I say dryly, seeing James holding back a smile. Because he knows. Of course he knows. “Were you verified, James? Did you have a blue tick to confirm you were legit The Enigma and not someone posing as you?”
“Do the killers offer guarantees?” Ringo goes on, astounded. “This is a joke, right?”
Goldie’s also holding back a smile. Because she knows too. “No joke,” she says.
“Someone hired him to kill Pearl?” Brad asks. “Then why the fuck would he be asking after her at the club? Sounds like a pretty stupid thing to do if you’re planning on killing someone.”
“Not if you don’t care,” I muse, my brain about to explode. “And why would he? He’s a ghost. We only found out who he is because James is a former member of hire a killer dot com.”
“I wasn’t a member, actually.”
“Were you too expensive?”
“I didn’t charge.”
No, because his mission was personal.
“Fuck this.” Brad laughs over his words as he heads for the door.
I rush over and block it, shaking my head, and his lips twist. “Screw your head on straight,” I order.
“Fuck!” He swings around and yells at the ceiling.
I cast a worried look James’s way. He agrees. He’s getting too emotional. “We’ve got this,” I say, laying a palm on his shoulder and squeezing. “Sit down.” I guide him to the chair and push him down, pouring him a drink and putting it in his hand.
