The Cadaver Game (27 page)

‘If you contacted her on her mobile I don’t suppose a change of address would have mattered,’ said Wesley.

‘Yes, I always called her mobile.’ He stood up. ‘I’ve got her card here somewhere.’ He began a frantic search of the wallet
he’d taken from his inside pocket and when he had no luck he turned his attention to the desk in the corner of the large airy
room. Wesley noticed that his hands were shaking.

‘I’m sorry. I can’t find it.’

‘If you do, will you let us know,’ said Wesley. ‘It could be useful.’

‘Of course.’ Pickard had regained his composure. But his fists were clenched tight.

‘What can you tell us about Evie?’

‘I didn’t ask too many questions. She was attractive, discreet, and our relationship was purely professional. She’d been recommended
by a business associate. She catered for the higher end of the market.’

‘You mean she was expensive? How much did she charge?’

When Pickard named a figure, Wesley saw Gerry’s eyebrows shoot up.

‘You always went to her place?’ said Gerry.

‘I preferred it that way. What is it they say? “Don’t piss in your own backyard”.’

This comment made Wesley a little uneasy. But he carried on with the questions. ‘So you were one of her regulars?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘But you say you haven’t seen her for a couple of months. Why was that?’

‘I’ve been busy. Problems at work and I’ve had to spend time in Prague sorting it out.’

‘Where were you the weekend before last?’

‘Prague. Giving my suppliers a hard time. The factory was manufacturing vital components and they got the specification wrong
and—’

‘I get the picture,’ said Gerry before the man went into too much detail. ‘Why didn’t you call her when you got back?’

‘I tried but her phone was switched off.’ He looked at Wesley and frowned. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t trace me before through
her incoming phone calls.’

‘We think her killer took her phone.’

Pickard swallowed hard and said nothing.

‘Perhaps you can give us her number.’

Pickard picked up his BlackBerry, which was lying on the coffee table in front of him and selected a number. He scribbled
it down on a scrap of paper and handed it to Wesley.

‘When you were with her did she mention anybody else?’

Pickard shook his head. Then he looked up as though he had suddenly remembered something. ‘On one occasion when she was unavailable
she recommended a friend. A woman called Penny. I visited her a couple of times, but I preferred Evie. She was more my type.’

‘Do you have Penny’s number?’

He consulted his BlackBerry again and scribbled Penny’s number underneath Evie’s.

‘Did Evie say why she was moving out of Roly Walk?’

‘Like I said, she never talked about herself and I liked it that way. Ours was a business transaction. She supplied a service.’

Gerry tilted his head to one side. ‘Like the factory in Prague?’

For the first time Pickard managed a weak smile. ‘Something like that. Only the service Evie provided was far superior.’

They needed to see Marcus Dexter again, to ask him about the threats he’d made to Sophie. But when they returned to the incident
room at 9.30 a.m. Rachel told them that there had been a call while they were out. Jimmy Yates’s mother had called with some
information. Wesley said he’d deal with it.

As Gerry vanished into his office, Rachel spoke again. ‘How was Morbay?’

‘Productive. We’ve found out that Evie was a very professional kind of professional lady, and she charged a fortune for her
services.’

‘How much?’ asked Rachel, almost as though she was considering a change of career.

‘Well, I think she had a sliding scale of charges but a figure of four hundred pounds was mentioned.’

Rachel shuddered. ‘I still wouldn’t fancy it. All those old men …’

‘You said there’d been a call from Jimmy’s mum.’

‘Yes. She’s found some money under his mattress. A hundred quid, she said.’

‘Why’s she telling us?’

‘I’m not sure really. She just said he was on benefits and he was always broke, so she wondered whether it could have something
to do with why he was killed.’

Wesley thought for a few moments. ‘He could have got it anywhere. He could have sold something, or been dealing drugs. But
it might be worth having a word with her. Maybe she has her suspicions and she doesn’t want to discuss it over the phone.’

‘A hundred quid. That’s what those kids who took part in the hunts at Catton Hall were paid.’

‘That’s what I was thinking. If Carl Heckerty hadn’t been so adamant that only Corley Grange kids took part … Tell you what,
you go and see her, just for a chat.’ He smiled at her and the sudden memory of the time they’d almost become too close gave
him an unexpected feeling of guilty discomfort. But he told himself he’d moved on since then. Things had changed.

‘OK,’ she said as she stood up. She seemed eager to be out of the office and he couldn’t blame her.

He looked round the office. ‘Take Paul with you – he looks as if he needs to get out of the office.’

‘Sure you don’t want to come.’ She almost made it sound like a proposition

Wesley looked away. ‘The boss and I are going to have another word with Marcus Dexter.’

The phone on his desk began to ring and he rushed over to answer it. Then, as soon as the brief conversation had ended, he
rushed to Gerry’s office and flung open the door, feeling quite excited. This was something they’d been waiting for.

‘Tessa Trencham’s arrived. She’s downstairs in the interview room.’

‘About time too,’ said Gerry as he stood up and sent a file plunging to the floor.

Five minutes later they were in interview room two, armed with coffee and questions.

Tessa looked up as they walked in. Someone had already given her a coffee from the machine in the corridor and she was fidgeting
nervously with the empty plastic cup. They had never managed to get a proper photograph of Evie’s face – the only certain
image they had of her was of a rotting, discoloured corpse, which they couldn’t have circulated to a sensitive public – but
Tessa certainly bore some resemblance to the E-fit picture of the victim. Similar build, similar colouring and a similar hairstyle.
They could have been sisters. He wondered if they were and she’d been reluctant to mention it for some reason. Perhaps that
was why Tessa had been so ready to lend Evie her home while she was away?

‘Ms Trencham. Good of you to come and see us,’ said Gerry. ‘How was France?’

She ignored the question. ‘I can’t believe Evie’s dead. It’s come as such a shock.’

He watched her face. Either her shock was genuine or she was a very good actress. ‘At one stage we thought she was you.’

‘We are fairly alike.’

‘Are you related?’

‘No. we’re not. She’s just one of my most regular customers. I suppose we hit it off and we became friends.’

‘You knew what she did for a living?’

‘Of course. She worked at Morbay University – something in admin, I think.’

Wesley and Gerry looked at each other. Evie had lied to Tessa – unless the story about the university was true and her other
occupation was a way of supplementing her income to make ends meet. Gerry left the room for a few minutes to call the incident
room and get the university angle checked out. But they both suspected the story had been a smokescreen to convince Tessa
of her respectability.

‘We need you to tell us everything you know about her. You said her name was Evie Smith?’

‘That’s right.’

‘And she was a customer of yours?’

‘Yes. Whenever she came to the shop we always used to have a good long chat. She loved jewellery – always said it was her
one weakness.’

‘How come she was at your house?’

‘She told me the lease was running out on the house she was renting. She’d found somewhere else but it wasn’t ready yet and
she had to find somewhere to stay in the meantime. I was going to France for a few weeks so she asked if she could stay there
while I was away. I took her up on the
offer; to be honest I was glad to have someone in there looking after the place.’

‘You must have trusted her.’

‘Like I said, we got on well. And she worked at the University, so …’

‘You didn’t let your landlord know?’

‘Why should I? She wasn’t paying rent. She was just house-sitting.’

‘What was she like?’

Tessa gave a sad smile and Wesley could see tears brimming in her eyes. ‘Really nice. I just can’t believe what happened to
her. Have you any idea who did it?’

‘We were hoping you’d be able to help us with that. I’m sorry to ask this but have you any enemies? Anyone who might want
you dead?’ Mistaken identity was a possibility they had to consider.

Tessa snorted. ‘I don’t think I’m the sort of person who makes enemies.’

‘Any abandoned ex-boyfriends who might have mistaken Evie for you in the dark?’

Tessa shook her head vigorously.

‘Can you tell us about her relationships? She must have talked about men in her life. Kids?’

‘She never mentioned any kids, so I assumed she didn’t have any. People like to talk about their kids, don’t they? There was
a friend she sometimes mentioned – someone called Penny. She worked with her at the University.’

‘We already know about Penny. Is there anything else you can tell us about Evie?’ Wesley paused. ‘Did she have anything to
do with your friend Carl Heckerty, for instance?’

Tessa frowned. ‘I don’t think so.’

The interview lasted another twenty minutes or so, but they
didn’t learn anything more. On their return to the incident room they found out that Evie had been lying about working at
the University and Wesley had suspected that all along. Evie seemed as elusive as ever. But at least now they had Penny, and
maybe she would be the answer to their prayers.

When they arrived at Penny’s address, Wesley pressed her entry phone key. As soon as they announced that they were police,
there was a long silence, as though she was thinking up some excuse why she couldn’t see them. But eventually she told them
to come up to the first floor in a voice that sounded less than enthusiastic. When they arrived at her flat she was waiting
in the open doorway, arms folded: Penny who didn’t work in the offices at the University of Morbay, but rather worked on a
self-employed basis in an expensive flat with a balcony overlooking the seafront, not too far from Pickard’s penthouse.

She was tall, slender, black and stunning and, if she’d set her mind to it, Wesley was sure she could have rivalled Patsy
Lowther in the supermodel stakes. For a few seconds he felt a little intimidated by her beauty and self-confidence. Then he
reminded himself that she shared the same profession as Evie and, however high class, hers was a risky and precarious existence.
Unless, like some of the famous courtesans of old, she managed to hook herself a wealthy client and go respectable.

She invited them inside, leading the way, her hips swaying with a natural grace that isn’t given to many women. Wesley looked
around as they followed her and saw that the apartment – the word ‘flat’ somehow seemed inadequate – was immaculately furnished
and decorated in good taste with the most costly materials.

As soon as they’d made themselves comfortable on the soft tan-coloured leather sofa Gerry came straight to the point. ‘We’ve
come to talk to you about Evie. I take it you know Evie?’

Penny sat down in the chair opposite. ‘Why are you asking? Has something happened to her?’ She was looking worried now. Worried
and a little puzzled. It was obvious she hadn’t heard the bad news.

‘How did you meet her?’

‘A few years ago we both rented flats in the same house. I tried to call her the other day but her phone was switched off.
Is she OK?’

Wesley hated breaking news like this. ‘I’m afraid she was found dead a week ago. It’s taken us a while to identify her. We
still don’t know much about her life, and we’re hoping you can help us.’

Penny clamped her hand over her mouth and stared at Wesley, wide-eyed with horror. ‘Oh God,’ she said after a while. ‘How
did she … ?’

‘She was murdered,’ said Gerry. ‘Her body wasn’t found for a week and the weather’s hot. That’s why she’s been hard to identify.’

Wesley thought that Gerry was being too brutal. Penny was finding the simple fact of her friend’s death hard to come to terms
with, never mind the gruesome details. She sat there, too stunned to utter a word.

Wesley took over and Gerry sat back and left him to it. ‘I’m sorry we’ve been the bearers of bad news but we really need to
find out who killed her,’ he said gently. ‘We know what you and Evie do for a living, by the way, so don’t be embarrassed.’

She looked at him, her eyes moist with tears and long,
damp streaks of mascara forming on her cheeks. ‘There’s always a risk in this game, however careful you are,’ she said softly.
‘However strict you are about applying the rules.’

‘What rules are they?’

Penny took a deep, shuddering breath, wiping a tear off her cheek with the back of a beautifully manicured hand. ‘Oh, there
are rules you have to follow if you want to stay in one piece, believe me. I call them the rules of the Game.’

‘Go on,’ said Wesley.

‘Well, first of all, you never have sex with anybody, even if they’re a regular, without using a condom. Then there are the
safety precautions. My first ever client told me that I was asking to get myself murdered. When I asked him what he meant,
he told me … Number one.’ She began to count the rules off on her fingers. ‘Never accept a drink – it might be spiked. Two;
jewellery – never wear hoop earrings that can be ripped off in a struggle or anything round your neck that can be used to
strangle you. Three; never wear anything that personalises you – a cross, or a locket, or anything with your name on. Four;
don’t wear shoes you can’t easily run in. Five; plan your escape route in case things go wrong. Watch the door and make sure
it’s not locked – if it is, make any excuse to get out fast.’