Page 33 of The Killer’s Mark

‘Because she didn’t fit into any of the categories I’ve just mentioned,’ Ryzcek said. ‘She was her own boss, but she wasn’t building a career. Didn’t come in with anyone, but she was furtive. Didn’t want her face on camera. She wore a mask the entire time she was on set, even during the lighting photographs.’

‘What are they?’

‘Before the scene starts, the cameraman takes still photographs of each position so the crew know they have the right lighting rigs set up.’

‘And these photos aren’t used for anything?’

‘They were, back in the day. They chose the best photographs for the VHS and DVD covers. Nowadays, with everything getting dumped online, they don’t bother with covers. No need for them.’

Poe made a mental note. Even if the woman Esmerée claimed was her mother had worn a mask the entire time she was on set, the lighting photographs might have caught a sharper image of the tattoo on the sole of her foot or the one on her shoulder. ‘You didn’t see her face at all?’ he asked.

‘She wasn’t masked when she came in, obviously,’ Ryzcek said. ‘That would have been weird. But as soon as she got on set, she hid her face. It sometimes happens with the housewives and the students. They need the cash, but they don’t want their husbands or families or what-have-you finding out what they’ve been up to.’

‘But she wasn’t like that?’

‘No, this girl was wary. Hard-nosed, but she was definitely hiding something. Or from someone.’

Which fitted with what Bradshaw had discovered and Flynn had confirmed. The FBI were searching for her. Possibly Vincent du Buk’s associates as well. It would explain why she was in London instead of New York.

‘And she was also kind of angry,’ Ryzcek went on. ‘As though she’d won the lottery but accidentally put her ticket in the wash. Like selling her body was the only way she knew how to make money, and she hated having to do it.’

‘Did you ask her?’

He nodded. ‘I did.’

‘And?’

‘And nothing. She told me to mind my own business.’

‘You said you got a look at her before she masked up?’

‘I did.’

‘What was she like?’

Ryzcek looked wistful for a moment. ‘She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever performed with,’ he said. ‘The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Jet-black hair. Perfect face, perfect skin, perfect body. She was wasted doing porn. She should have been an actress or a model or the trophy wife of a billionaire. She had that rare beauty that transcends what she was doing that day, if you know what I mean.’

Poe did. He felt the same way about Estelle. Each time she walked into the room, she took his breath away.

He asked Ryzcek some follow-up questions, but it was clear that other than Océane being extraordinarily beautiful, it had just been another job. He’d remembered that she had tattoos, but other than saying the one on her foot was a face, he couldn’t describe them. Poe gave him a business card; said he could call him any time if he thought of something. Ryzcek promised he would.

‘One last thing,’ Poe said. ‘Do you remember who you were working for that day?’

‘I do, Mr Poe,’ Ryzcek said. ‘A small outfit called Pure Pulse Productions.’

Chapter 25

Chance Ryzcek lived in Haringey. Pure Pulse Productions was fifteen miles away in Romford. A twenty-minute car journey in Cumbria, but at least an hour in London. Even if they got lucky with trains and cabs, the earliest they could get there was seven p.m. Poe decided to find a hotel for the night and tackle Pure Pulse Productions in the morning.

The extra time also allowed Bradshaw to do a deep dive into the porn company. Poe suspected they would be unwilling to part with their photographs. They’d quote data protection, but the real reason was that they were in the business of selling women. If Poe wanted the photographs, he’d have to pay. And there was no way he was giving as much as a single groat to the porn industry. He would need to force their hand.

But for once, Bradshaw couldn’t produce the goods. They checked into a semi-decent hotel – Bradshaw wanted to get a twin room, but Poe reminded her that they were adults – then went out to buy toiletries and underwear. Later, over dinner, she told him that although she’d been able to access the cloud storage the company used, the lighting photographs weren’t on it.

‘Just some horrid films they’d recently uploaded to a file-sharing pornographic website,’ she said. ‘If they’ve still got the photographs, they must be on an air-gapped computer.’

‘They probably worry about their movies being stolen.’

Bradshaw nodded. ‘That’s what I think too. The clips they’ve filmed but haven’t yet uploaded must be safe somewhere.’