Page 100 of The Killer’s Mark

‘Do the NCA know she’s your client?’ Estelle asked.

‘If they haven’t worked it out by now, they’re stupider than a box of potatoes. They don’t know who she is, though. I think that really has them stumped. When Steph’s friend Susan Hawksworth ruled out her being related to Océane Blue, it kind of threw everyone. It certainly threw Esmerée. We had another alien hand incident. She punched herself this time. Split her lip and bent her nose. That’s why there’s blood on your old T-shirt.’

‘Tell me exactly what Susan said.’

‘One of the things the women are required to do before starting their Red Chamber contract is get sterilised. Turns out that the kind of men who would pay a million quid a year for what is essentially a live-in sex slave aren’t interested in having children with them.’

‘Did she say what procedure?’

‘Why?’

‘Because some are more easily reversed.’

Poe told her what he knew. That the Red Chamber women had their fallopian tubes tied.

‘That poor girl,’ Estelle said when he’d finished. ‘She was struggling with her identity anyway, and now she doesn’t know who her mother is. She has no one to anchor herself to. If we don’t fix that, she’ll drift away.’ She sipped her wine. ‘Look, I know we can’t be responsible for everyone, but do you think—’

‘What do you need me to do?’

‘Find out who her mother is, Poe. The best thing we can do for her right now is to give her a name. If Océane Blue isn’t her mother, then someone else is.’

‘The answer is likely in the States.’

‘And you have a good friend in the FBI.’ She checked her watch. ‘It’s one a.m. That means it’s only eight o’clock in DC. Why don’t you give her a call?’

Poe couldn’t think of a reason not to. He scrolled through his phone, found the right number and pressed call.

‘FBI, Washington field office,’ someone said.

Poe asked to speak to Special Agent Melody Lee. He said she wasn’t expecting his call, but she’d probably take it. He was asked to hold. He turned on the speakerphone function and set the phone on the kitchen table.

While they waited, Estelle said, ‘Oh, and thanks for telling Tilly to ask me about her sex drive conundrum. That wasn’t an awkward conversation at all.’

Poe grinned. ‘How’d it go?’

‘I doubt there’s been a birds-and-bees discussion quite like it. She had blood test results and hormone level charts, more tests than I run on suspicious deaths.’

‘And?’

‘And nothing to do with you, mister. Gal talk. I will say one thing, though, having a fifteen-year-old here is good for Tilly.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Esmerée talks to her about things we don’t.’

‘Or won’t,’ Poe said.

‘Exactly. She asked Tilly if she had a boyfriend, and when she said no, she asked why not. I doubt Tilly’s ever thought about that before.’

Poe picked up his tea. Blew on it and took a sip. ‘And now she is.’

‘Yes,’ Estelle said. ‘She’s even talking about her legacy.’

‘Legacy?’

‘Children, Poe.’

Poe spat tea all over his shirt. ‘Children?’