Page 95 of The Killer’s Mark

‘That’s not it, is it?’

‘As far as we’ve been able to ascertain, your theory is correct,’ Gilliard said. ‘The Red Chamber don’t honour their contracts. They kill the women and keep their share for themselves. We think this part of the business is kept from the Forty-Fours.’

‘So they don’t have to give them twenty-five per cent of that too?’

‘Exactly.’

‘But?’

‘But what?’

‘There’s always a “but” with men like this,’ Poe said.

‘Men?’

‘It’s always men, Chief Inspector.’

Gilliard dipped his head in agreement. ‘It is.’

‘Hey, don’t hog all the glory. Women can be assholes too,’ Esmerée said.

Poe agreed that they could be. He had first-hand knowledge of what the supposed fairer sex was capable of. At the last count, at least three women had tried to kill him, the final one coming dangerously close to succeeding. He said, ‘Tell me what you know, Chief Inspector.’

‘Not with the girl in the room.’

Esmerée’s jaw hardened. Her nostrils flared. ‘Screw you, asswipe, I’m going nowhere.’

Gilliard stared at her until it made even Bradshaw uncomfortable. ‘Poe?’ he said eventually.

‘Esmerée stays.’

‘Boss …’ Susan said. ‘You can’t. She’s a kid.’

‘Who for some reason Poe wants in on this.’

‘But—’

‘It’s my decision, DC Hawksworth. If Poe wants Little Miss Foul-Mouth to stay, she stays.’

‘“Little Miss” … what the hell does that mean?’ Esmerée said.

Gilliard ignored her. He said, ‘Six years ago, Vice Admiral Boyer died of a—’

‘Detective Chief Inspector Gilliard is punning on the Mr Men series by Roger Hargreaves, Esmerée,’ Bradshaw said. ‘Each book was named after a different character, like Mr Strong or Mr Tickle. I imagine a young rapscallion like Poe enjoyed them immensely due to the colourful pictures and simplistic plots.’

Poe didn’t react. Didn’t roll his eyes or tut. Instead, he watched Bradshaw. Wondered why she’d interrupted Gilliard. It was rude, and although rudeness and Bradshaw kind of went hand-in-hand, it was never intentional. But this seemed to be.

‘Did you read them, Tilly?’ Esmerée asked.

‘Gosh, no, they would have bored me foolish. I read The Young Mathematician until I was seven years old.’

‘What happened after that?’

‘My parents relented and allowed me to read Oxford University Press academic journals.’

Bradshaw was worried. Poe recognised the signs. They weren’t difficult to spot. She forgot all the progress she’d made over the years. Became a social hand grenade again. ‘What’s up, Tilly?’ he asked.

‘I think I know what Detective Chief Inspector Gilliard is going to tell us, Poe. I don’t think Esmerée should hear it.’