Page 124 of The Killer’s Mark

Kai explained that when she’d read ‘His Last Bow’ and discovered that Sherlock Holmes had retired to a farm on the South Downs to keep bees and read books, it was like an epiphany. A calling. It became her obsession. Every move she made from that point was to achieve her singular goal of moving to England and buying a farm on the South Downs. Of keeping bees and winning awards for her honey. Before she did anything, she would ask herself one question: does this bring me nearer my goal? Her contract with the Red Chamber. The courses she took while Vincent du Buk was her benefactor. The books she read. The business trips to England that she accompanied du Buk on.

Poe wondered how a daughter fitted into Océane’s honey empire, but he didn’t voice his question. Kai wouldn’t know, and he’d dumped enough emotional baggage on his shoulders to last ten lifetimes.

He asked a succession of questions, each designed to get to the bottom of who Océane Blue was. Poe knew that in missing persons cases, the more you knew about the person the better. But in this case, he thought he’d already hit the motherlode. Océane didn’t seem to have had any friends. All her relationships had been transactional. She hadn’t cared about anyone. Again, he wanted to ask where a daughter had fitted into her masterplan, but again he refrained.

But he thought about it. He thought about it a lot.

And then he thought about something Esmerée had said. Something she had wanted them to do.

He ended the call with Kai and Greta and accessed his contacts.

Chapter 100

Poe scrolled through his contacts until he found Chance Ryzcek, the ageing porn actor performing under the name Goldie Hardman. Ryzcek had been open about his scene with Océane Blue. He hadn’t been able to remember much, but what he had remembered, he’d shared. Océane had turned up on her own, worn a mask during the scene, collected her money and left immediately.

Transactional.

But this time Poe had a prompt, and more than any other thing, prompts brought new information from witnesses. They elicited statements like ‘Oh yeah, I remember now – the man who robbed me did have a wooden leg. It was brown and ’is name were scratched on the side. Looked like it had been done wi’ a penknife.’

Ryzcek took his time answering. When he did, he sounded wary. ‘Yes?’

‘Chance, it’s Poe. Sorry to call you so late.’

Poe heard him blow out a sigh of relief.

‘Is everything OK, Mr Poe?’ Ryzcek asked. ‘Is it safe for me to go home?’

Poe thought it would be, but he said it wasn’t. The Red Chamber had abducted a fifteen-year-old girl. They were getting desperate, and he didn’t want another death on his hands. Another mutilation.

‘What are you after? I get the impression you’re too busy for social calls.’

‘I have new information on the woman with the foot tattoo, Chance. I’m hoping you can put some meat on the bones.’

‘Go on.’

‘The woman we’re looking for had two tattoos. One on the sole of her foot and a smaller one on her shoulder.’

‘She did.’

‘And you still can’t remember what the smaller tattoo was?’

Poe could almost hear the cogs turning in Ryzcek’s memory. The guy wanted to help. After an age, he said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. When you’re performing, the director tends to want you looking up. Sometimes at the ceiling. You know, like you’re in some sort of hedonistic trance. The only time he wants you looking down is when she’s—’

‘Could it have been a bee?’ Poe cut in, glancing at Bradshaw.

Everyone in the room heard the sharp intake of breath. That had hit home. Ryzcek didn’t say anything, though.

‘Chance?’ Poe said. ‘Did she have a bee tattoo?’

‘Not a bee, Mr Poe; a jar of honey.’

Honey. That fitted. That fitted very well.

‘Yeah, a cartoony thing, like the one Winnie-the-Pooh had,’ Ryzcek continued. ‘Sort of bees’-nest-shaped. And beside it was a honey wand. I remember that, as I called it a spoon and she corrected me.’

Estelle had a honey wand. It was wooden, with a grooved end. Poe preferred a spoon. You got more honey, and they weren’t as difficult to clean.

Poe was about to thank him when Ryzcek started talking again. ‘I’ve remembered something else,’ he said. ‘When we finished our scene, I popped out for a fag. I used to do that. Review my performance, kind of thing.’