Page 164 of The Killer’s Mark

‘What about Poe?’

‘Poe is the dumbest person in the room,’ Bradshaw said. ‘But don’t worry, he makes up for that with exceptional lateral-thinking abilities.’

‘What do you mean, “I measure everyone’s IQ”?’ Poe said.

‘It’s a very simple concept, Poe. Perhaps you’re tired.’

‘I understand the words; I don’t understand why you would do that to your friends.’

‘I do it because you’re my friends.’

‘You knew about this?’ Poe asked Estelle.

‘I figured it out,’ his wife said, grinning. ‘There are only so many ways of testing a person’s IQ without them knowing. I realised what she was up to when she kept asking me to do jigsaws with her. Puzzles are one of the most accurate ways of measuring intelligence.’

‘But she asks me to do jigsaws with her all the time.’

‘I know.’

Esmerée giggled. ‘This is gonna be sick.’

‘All that time she wasn’t interested in seeing the beauty of a John Constable; she just wanted to count my brain cells?’

‘You did very well, Poe,’ Bradshaw said, not the slightest bit embarrassed.

‘Why not just put me in a maze and have done with it?’ he said. ‘See how long it takes me to find the cheese.’

Bradshaw didn’t say anything. But this time she did look embarrassed.

Realisation dawned. ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘We went to a maze last year. Hampton Court Maze.’

‘We did, Poe.’

‘And you left me on my own in the middle. It took me ages to find my way out. And when I did, you made a note on your phone.’ He turned to Estelle. ‘And you, my darling wife, you were laughing your bloody head off.’

‘I’m so pressing that freaking button,’ Esmerée said. ‘I ain’t missing any of this shit.’

Poe stopped scowling.

Estelle stopped laughing.

Bradshaw looked up from her laptop.

And Esmerée? Well, Esmerée pressed the freaking button.

Chapter 135

Ten days later

Adam Malloy hadn’t slept for two weeks. Ever since that jailbait bitch had scratched his face and that psycho Poe had threatened to call the police on him. All he’d wanted to do was watch a porno with her, to see if it would lead to anything. How was he supposed to know she was a child? She’d told him she was twenty-one. And yeah, she obviously wasn’t that old, but as far as he was concerned, anyone old enough to know they had to lie about their age was old enough, full stop.

And she had stolen his credit card. She’d been using it up until a few days ago. He had paid the tab as soon as the charges appeared. He didn’t want his wife asking why he was spending money they didn’t have, but she’d found out anyway. She’d caught him cheating once before so was always on the lookout for suspicious credit card activity. And he hadn’t been able to explain away the junior suite at the Crown and Mitre. He couldn’t tell the truth and he couldn’t think of a decent lie. He couldn’t even say his wallet had been stolen. Couldn’t risk Poe turning up at work again.

His wife had thrown him out on his ear. Told him to move in with his dolly bird. He was staying in the staff quarters at Musgrave Hall until he could sort it out. Come up with a believable explanation. But there was good news. There hadn’t been any recent charges on his card. Light at the end of the tunnel.

Of course, sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel was the light coming from the train heading straight towards you. The knock on his door was so loud it made him spill his cup of tea.

What now?