Page 26 of The Killer’s Mark

Flynn raised her eyebrows.

‘I stick to my strengths,’ Poe said.

He spent fifteen minutes outlining everything that had happened since the start of the week. He didn’t mention Océane by name, and he didn’t mention Esmerée at all. If what Esmerée had said was true, Vincent du Buk’s associates might be looking for her as well. But he made it clear he was trying to track down a woman, and the only lead he had was that she might have recently starred in a pornographic film.

‘Was it a professional film, or home-made?’ Susan asked.

‘I’m no expert, but I think maybe semi-professional.’

‘There were no credits at the start or the end? No indication of who produced it? No actors’ names?’

‘It was just a clip. They were naked when it started, and it ended when the blond guy … ended.’

‘Any indication where it was filmed? Was it a studio or a hotel room? Maybe a private residence? A lot of Airbnbs are rented to shoot porn films these days.’

Poe looked at Flynn. Raised his eyebrows.

‘Susan works for Organised Crime Command,’ Flynn explained. ‘They keep a watching brief on the porn industry as it’s occasionally used to launder money. And we keep a watching brief on it as some of the women have been trafficked to the UK for the express purpose of making porn films.’

Flynn worked for the Modern Slavery and Human Trafficking Unit. Had done since the Serious Crime Analysis Section had been reorganised after a murder-by-stoning case two years earlier. She liked it. Was good at it. Her office was closer to where she lived. Instead of a two-hour commute, she could be at home with her partner and their son in forty-five minutes.

‘You know how I think, boss,’ Poe said. ‘You know how Tilly works. You know how much I dislike London. If we could have identified the film by the background information, we wouldn’t be sitting here. We couldn’t figure out who made it, where it was filmed or who starred in it, and Tilly says it was illegally uploaded to the website by some random fool a while ago. She can get me an address, but it won’t help us.’

‘Calm down, Poe,’ Flynn said. ‘We just need to know who to send you to. There’s no point putting you in contact with the CEO of one of the megacompanies, like Brazzers or Naughty America, if it was just a bunch of doggers in a Bradford car park.’

‘Steph said you were a cranky bugger, Poe,’ Susan said, laughing. ‘It seems she was underplaying it.’

Poe was rescued by the food. His plate was hot and steaming, with rich gravy spilling over the lip. He looked at his pie and mash. Rubbed his hands together in glee. He saw Flynn watching him. ‘Obviously, if Estelle asks, I had the garden salad as well.’

‘What about Tilly?’

‘She doesn’t like pies.’

‘You know what I mean. Will she not grass you up?’

‘Probably, but it’s the boy who cried woof with her. She bubbles me so often, it’s like white noise to Estelle.’

‘It’s the boy who cried wolf, Poe,’ Bradshaw said. ‘And Estelle believes everything I say because I don’t tell fibs.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘This morning you told that man on the train you were partially deaf.’

‘He wanted to talk to me about his cycling holiday, Tilly. His cycling holiday. Anyway, that was politer than what you did. You stuck your tongue out and blew a raspberry.’

Flynn snorted. Shook her head. ‘You two have to be the most socially awkward people in the whole country.’ She checked her watch. ‘Anyway, eat up, Susan and I have real jobs. We can’t stay in the pub all afternoon.’

Poe picked up his fork and stabbed a lump of pie crust. It was thick and glistening with fat. Londoners might not know how to brew beer, but they made proper pies. This was as good as he’d had.

After they had finished their meals, Susan said, ‘I’ll make some calls. Get you a name. And while I’m at it, I’ll check if my request for intelligence on Vincent du Buk has been approved. See if he was involved in anything shady. If he was, his passport will be flagged in case he wanted to enter the UK.’

Poe raised his eyebrows again.

‘I searched du Buk last night,’ Flynn explained. ‘The moment you told me why you were coming down. And because he managed a private equity firm, his murder is being investigated by the FBI. The search triggered an alert. Susan came to see me this morning. Wanted to know why I was sniffing around a murder in New York. That’s why she’s here.’

‘Did I get you into trouble?’

‘No, but Susan did have a right to know why I was interested in him.’