Page 130 of The Killer’s Mark

Océane raised her perfect eyebrows. ‘I don’t even know what that means. She had both hands when I left the States. Has someone chopped one of them off? Given her a robotic one?’

‘It’s a syndrome,’ Poe said. ‘Someone with an alien hand has no control over it. It’s as if it has a mind of its own.’

‘And Esmerée has this?’

Towler nodded. ‘I’ve seen it,’ he said. ‘It’s very funny.’

‘Well she didn’t have it when I knew her.’

When I knew her. What a weird way to describe an estranged child, Poe thought. He let it go. And he let it go because he thought that having an alien hand might just be how a fifteen-year-old would deal with the psychology of taking another human life. It weren’t me, guv’nor, it were me independently minded ’and … Poe didn’t know why he’d thought that in a cockney accent. He said, ‘Can I ask why Esmerée killed Vincent du Buk?’

‘Because she’s a fucking psycho.’

He waited her out.

Océane folded her arms and waited him out.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘When did you find out that the Red Chamber were murdering their concubines?’

‘Who says I did?’

Which was a fair point. Their assumption had been that Océane Blue had killed her benefactor after she’d inadvertently learned about her fate. But if it was Esmerée who had killed Vincent du Buk, it didn’t follow that Océane even knew what the Red Chamber had in store for her. But … if she didn’t know, why had she run? She clearly didn’t have normal feelings towards her daughter. In fact, she seemed to actively dislike her. Which suggested that if Esmerée had killed du Buk, she would simply have told the FBI and the NYPD the truth. Pushed her daughter under the figurative bus. Let the chips fall, or whatever your preferred clichéd metaphor was. Gone back to the Red Chamber and demanded her share of the money.

If she didn’t know.

But she hadn’t hung around. She hadn’t passed GO and collected two hundred dollars. She’d fled the country. Changed her name and worked hard at staying anonymous. Which suggested she did know. Knew that the Red Chamber remained a permanent threat.

‘I say you did,’ Poe said. ‘It doesn’t matter if it was you or Esmerée who killed Vincent du Buk – the facts are that the NCA believe you fled the United States with evidence that could bring down the Red Chamber. And because they have sources inside the NCA, the Red Chamber believe that too.’

Océane sighed. ‘Then I guess it’s time for me to become someone else again,’ she said. ‘I’ve reinvented myself before and no doubt I’ll have to do it again. But as far as your request goes, as tempting as it is, I think I’ll politely decline your offer of handing myself over to the Red Chamber. I’m sorry, but that little bitch made her bed; now she can fucking lie in it.’

She turned and shut the door.

Poe and Towler stood in the dark and looked at each other.

Towler shrugged. ‘I’ll fetch my sack.’

Chapter 107

Although Poe had told Estelle that Océane was coming back up north whether she liked it or not, the reality was very different. If he tried to transport a struggling woman from the bottom of England to the very top, they would get stopped by the police. Someone would see her thrashing about. Poe doubted they would end up on an abduction charge, but that wasn’t the point – they didn’t have the time it would take to get it sorted.

The only viable option was to tie her up, hands and feet, gag her, and put her in the boot. And even though Towler said it could be easily done – Poe didn’t want to ask how he knew this, although he’d once hinted at being involved in extraordinary renditions – Poe wasn’t built that way. He wanted a volunteer, not a conscript.

That meant delving into the psyche of Océane Blue. Of trying to ignore everything he thought he knew about her: that she was a self-centred sociopath, the kind of person who would leave her daughter in the lurch while she fled a murder scene. She was far more complex. More nuanced. She hated Esmerée for reasons Poe didn’t yet understand. Blamed her for her predicament, which didn’t make sense. She knew the Red Chamber were planning to kill her, so she needed to flee anyway. Esmerée killing Vincent du Buk – if that was what had happened – was kind of irrelevant. But instead of accepting a bad situation, Océane had said that Esmerée had ruined everything. That she hoped she’d rot in hell.

Poe was missing something. He bopped a quick text to Estelle and Bradshaw, brought them up to speed. Told them the profile they’d developed was next to useless. That he would have to do a field evaluation. Why Océane hated Esmerée would have to wait. The only thing that mattered was tempting her north.

He had to negotiate.

Which reminded him of a very recent negotiation. When the Red Chamber guy had called to say they had Esmerée, Poe had negotiated for proof of life. Which subsequently reminded him of the hostage negotiation course he’d completed when he first qualified as a detective. It was twenty-plus years ago, but one lesson remained clear – unlock the power of WIIFM.

What’s In It For Me?

When you had nothing to negotiate with, find something. It didn’t matter if you were dealing with Somali pirates in the Gulf of Aden or Geoff who’d flipped because he’d caught his wife in bed with the family dachshund. You found something the hostage-taker needed. They might not even realise it. When it came to hostage situations, the common WIIFMs were food and water, calls to family members, safe passage. That kind of thing. So Poe disregarded what he knew about Océane and focused on what she wanted.

What she needed.

She wanted to live. That was her primary concern. She’d fled to a different continent to get away from the Red Chamber. They had planned to kill her. They still planned to kill her.