Page 102 of The Killer’s Mark

‘Okaaay,’ Lee said.

‘We have a theory,’ Poe said.

‘Go on.’

‘We think Vincent du Buk’s Red Chamber concubine might have had this procedure.’

‘Why do you think that, Poe?’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’ll have to report this conversation.’

‘And you think those Red Chamber assholes have eyes on the investigation?’

‘I can’t discount it.’

Poe told Melody Lee about his encounter with Dongyang Dong, the guy with the boss-eyed dragon tattoo. That the Red Chamber had intercepted him in Newcastle as he was searching for their tattooist, and he still hadn’t figured out how they had known where to be. It was a loose end, and loose ends were the pea under Poe’s mattress. They kept him awake.

‘Océane Blue’s on the run,’ Lee said. ‘Suspect numero uno in the murder of Vincent du Buk. Even if she wasn’t, these girls didn’t lead regular lives, Poe. They didn’t have OB-GYNs. They weren’t battery hens, but they weren’t exactly free range either. In other words, I can’t check her medical records as there won’t be any medical records.’

‘I agree.’

‘You do?’

‘Checking her medical records would be a waste of time. However, because this tubal ligation reversal is an invasive procedure, if Océane Blue did have it done, it would have been at the behest of Vincent du Buk. Estelle says she wouldn’t have been able to keep it secret from him. She would have needed time to recover. The procedure leaves a scar.’

‘And if it was his idea, he’d have paid for it,’ Melody Lee said thoughtfully.

‘Estelle’s checked with a doctor friend of hers in New York. He reckons that after anaesthesia, surgery and hospital fees, you’re not getting much change out of twenty grand. And because Vincent du Buk was supposedly in bed with some unsavoury characters, it’s likely all his non-crook business would have been beyond reproach.’

‘You want me to check his transactions? See if something jumps out?’

‘If you can. I’d ask Tilly, but she can only check his electronic dealings. She might miss a cash payment.’

‘How long ago?’

Poe did some mental arithmetic. Esmerée said she was fifteen years old. She hadn’t seen her birth certificate, though, which meant she couldn’t be sure. ‘If I’m right, she’ll have had this done between sixteen and eighteen years ago. Better do a couple of years either side to be safe.’

‘You don’t have a DOB?’

‘A DOB for who, Special Agent Lee?’

‘I had to try,’ she chuckled.

‘It’s just a theory at this point.’

‘And is this simply to assuage your curiosity?’ she said, serious now. ‘Or might it actually lead somewhere?’

‘Truthfully, I don’t know. Half of me wants you to get a hit on this. The other half is desperately hoping you don’t.’

Chapter 84

Poe worked from home the following day. He hadn’t felt like driving to Carlisle. Even if he had, Esmerée was having a lie-in. They were the only ones in the house. Bradshaw had pulled an all-nighter going through the potentially compromised material with Alastor Locke – there wasn’t anything – and Estelle had an early post-mortem. Even Brunton was AWOL. Or on his day off, as Estelle put it.

He made himself a pot of coffee in the main kitchen, then took a seat at the antique oak table. Bradshaw had printed off everything they had collated and he spread it out. Made a collage. Tried to make connections. Ones he’d missed when he’d viewed it chronologically. If he’d been at Herdwick Croft, he’d have started a murder wall. He thought about doing the same here, but realised two things: every wall in Highwood was littered with portraits of Estelle’s dead relatives, and even if that hadn’t been the case, the table in Highwood’s main kitchen was bigger than any wall at Herdwick Croft.