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Holden leant back, turned to Fox and shrugged. ‘Maybe you were right, Sergeant. I think we’ll have to keep him for a few hours while we pursue other enquiries.’
‘Sure, boss.’
Smith’s panic was palpable. ‘What do you mean, keep me here? I’ve answered your questions, and I have to get back to work.’
Fox gave a brutal laugh. ‘You think a few half-arsed lies are enough? If you want to get out of here any time soon, you’d better start answering the inspector’s questions properly. And she asked you how many of your clients you’ve slept with? Mind you, personally I find it hard to imagine how any woman in her right mind would want to get jiggy with a tubby creep like you.’
Smith half-opened his mouth, but said nothing. He looked across at Holden, but if he was hoping she would call her sergeant to heel, the hard set of her face told him he was out of luck.
‘We want a list of names!’ she said firmly. ‘Then we might let you go.’
He swallowed, and licked his lips uncertainly. ‘Honestly,’ he said quietly, ‘she was the only one.’
‘Liar!’ Fox bawled.
‘I’m not,’ he yelped back. ‘She was the first, the only one. Christ, I wasn’t expecting it. I wish it hadn’t happened, but it did.’
‘And then she took the photo?’
Smith paused before he spoke. The fight appeared to have gone out of him, and when he replied he did so in a resigned monotone. ‘Yes.’
‘What was she blackmailing you about?’
He looked up sharply. ‘I never said anything about blackmail.’
‘So why did she take the photo?’
He shrugged, and gave a sheepish grin. ‘Maybe to show her friends?’
Holden turned again to address Fox. ‘Well, I suppose if we asked around we could soon find out. Get a dozen copies printed off. Ask them to blow them up nice and big so that there can be no confusion about identity—’
‘Hey! Just a minute! What are you playing at?’ Smith squealed desperately. ‘Do you want to wreck my marriage?’
‘We aren’t playing at anything,’ Holden said flatly. She knew instinctively that Smith had cracked, but she had no intention of taking the pressure off. ‘We are investigating a murder. And given that the dead woman appears to have been blackmailing you, you are currently a prime suspect. So I will ask you for the second and final time: why did Maria Tull photograph you in the nude?’
Smith felt his throat tighten. ‘I wouldn’t call it blackmail exactly. I found a painting in the house.’ He paused, wondering quite how to describe what happened. ‘She offered to help me sell it. Well, she knows a lot more about that sort of thing than I do. We haggled a bit about the split, and then we had sex, and after that she took the photo to make sure I didn’t cut up rough about it later.’
Again Fox interrupted. ‘So it was her idea, the sex?’
Smith turned his head to face Fox. He said nothing, but he had the look of a cornered rat, Fox reckoned, only he didn’t look half as dangerous.
‘Tell me about the picture,’ Holden asked quietly.
‘Well, it looked old to me,’ Smith said quickly, relieved to be talking to the woman about something less embarrassing. ‘That’s all I can say. An oil painting, maybe two foot square. There were two women standing up, and a man lying on a bed. Maria said it needed a damn good clean.’
‘So how much was it worth?’
‘I’ve no idea. A few hundred, a few thousand, who knows? But she was interested, all right, so I knew it must be worth a fair bit.’
‘And you trusted her to give you a fair price?’
‘God, no! I wouldn’t have trusted her further than I could spit. But I reckoned anything was better than nothing.’
Holden nodded her head slowly up and down, and then leant forward, as if to pass on a secret to Smith. ‘It seems to me that you’ve got a pretty good motive for killing her.’
‘What are you talking about?’ His voice was strident with alarm. ‘I don’t even know where the bloody painting is now. And I told you I was pricing a job up last night. Ask Mr and Mrs Knight. They’ll confirm it.’
‘For your sake, I do hope so.’
