Anna sat at her desk working up the report of the interview, tapping her teeth with a pencil. “You know, if she was working most nights, she had to have hoarded some cash. Otherwise, what did she do with it all? She didn’t pay rent, she dossed down in hostels. We found no savings accounts in her name. I think I should have another meeting with Emerald Turk, only this time I want her brought in for questioning.”
Barolli said he’d organize it.
“She had Margaret’s suitcase,” Anna reminded him, and he nodded.
“Probably be another waste of time, though. Same with that Collingwood; we gained nothing new, apart from Maggie sometimes worked the day shift as well, but she might have changed to only nights, who knows. I bet you won’t get anything from the blue-blanket victim, either.”
“True, there’s nothing as yet, but I’m waiting for the DCI who led the inquiry to get back to me in connection with her tattoo.”
Barolli laughed. “You got a big break on that previous case with the actress — the killer had her face tattooed on his back, right?”
“Yep, but this is different. I think the lizard tattoo may have been inked over a previous one. I’ll just have to wait to find out.”
“Be good if it was her name and address.” Barolli sniggered.
“We should be so lucky.”
Anna hoped that Ken would call her, but he didn’t, and she spent the evening at home looking over all her notes from the previous Emerald Turk interviews. She was at her desk early the following morning.
When she got in, Mike Lewis was at Barbara’s desk, making a call to Mr. Rodgers, who was beginning to think he was being investigated for fraud. He had insisted that all his tax and VAT payments were in order, then contradicted this by saying that it would be difficult for him to go back five years to present them with all his receipts and orders. He was growing agitated, saying that when the firm moved from London to Manchester, he didn’t have the space to retain all the old order files.
Mike Lewis tried to explain to him, as diplomatically as possible, that they were not investigating any taxation or VAT fraud, they were simply attempting to trace someone who might be of interest to their inquiry and who might have purchased some Swell Blinds.
Mike was trying to be patient but became alarmed when Mr. Rodgers asked if this was all connected to John Smiley.
“You know, he’s a trusted employee. If you are trying to find out whether he has acted in any way that is detrimental to Swell Blinds, then I will have to let him go. Is that what this is all about?”
“Please, Mr. Rodgers, we have no intention of damaging Mr. Smiley’s exemplary work record. All we are basically interested in is tracing a possible witness who may have ordered a set of blinds from your company during the few years you were based in London; this would be before you moved to Manchester.”
It took a while longer before Mr. Rodgers promised to do what he could. After he hung up, Mike tapped the phone and said to the others, “I hope we don’t get that poor bastard fired and then have nothing on him. Rodgers says they don’t have that many records from London, as they don’t have the storage space.”
Barbara had a thought. “Mike, remember that old lady called Wendy Dunn who worked for the company for many years? She ran the reception at the Hounslow office: she might be able to help.”
“Well, get on it, then. We seem to be getting our thumbs right up our arses. If Langton keeps putting the pressure on me, I’ll have to tell him to back off. We’re going up one blind alley after another.”
“Blind! Swish ones! Haw haw.” Barolli ducked the empty coffee cup thrown by Mike.
DCI Vince Mathews, who had led the inquiry into the murder of the Jane Doe wrapped in the blue blanket, finally rang Anna back. He had a strong northern accent and spoke loudly.
“Her body was released after the second postmortem, and the coroner gave the go-ahead for burial. The local undertakers and our local council arranged a pauper’s grave.”
“Was her body embalmed?”
“No, love, cremated, and to be honest, after all this time, if we’d have embalmed her, the skin would be like leather, too shriveled for any light-source examination of the tattoo.”
Disappointed, Anna thanked him and was about to hang up when he said, “Have you got all the photographs? We took the tattoo from every side and angle.”
“I believe so,” Anna said.
“Thing is, love, the human eye doesn’t pick up anything that might be beneath the tattoo.”
“Did anyone use the light-source tech units? Only I know they use infrared lighting.”
“No, and we were discussing taking the tattoo — you know, cutting it out — but as we’d had no one come forward after the news coverage, we didn’t think it would be worth it.”
“Thank you for getting back to me.”
Before he could say anything else or call her “love” again, Anna replaced the receiver. Frustrated but not giving up, she called Pete Jenkins at the forensic lab. He agreed to see her in the early evening and asked her to bring as many photographs as possible.
Anna grabbed a late lunch before the interview with Emerald Turk. Barolli warned her that the woman was a foul-mouthed bitch today, but Anna pointed out that was nothing new.
Emerald was sitting in the interview room swinging one leg over the other. She looked smart, as her hair had been styled and bleached very blond. She wore thick false eyelashes and had on oyster-pink lip gloss that matched her pink tracksuit top.
“You got a lot of nerve bringing me in. I presume it’s down to you, right?” She jerked her head toward Anna as she sat down in front of Emerald at the interview table. “I told you everything — this is harassment. I had to get someone to mind me kids and make their tea so I could get over here. If you keep on wasting my time, I’m gonna write to the newspapers.”
“Thank you for agreeing to come in,” Anna said quietly.
“I didn’t. I was told that if I didn’t get in the fucking patrol car, I’d be fucking arrested, and the two blokes wouldn’t tell me what it was all about, just that I was wanted for questioning, and now, seeing you, I know it’s bloody Margaret Potts again, isn’t it? I wish to God I’d never met her.”
Anna let the tirade go on until Emerald went quiet. “Would you like a glass of water?”
“No.”
Barolli remained silent, sitting beside Anna, feeling rather queasy, as Emerald’s perfume was very strong. He waited. Anna thumbed through her notebook, then checked her written report, in no hurry to question Emerald.
“Well — is it about the bloody suitcase?”
Anna didn’t answer, so Emerald turned to Barolli. “I told her I tossed it out. It just had some old clothes in it, and the ones I didn’t keep, I chucked with the case. You can’t get me for doing that. She left it in my house.” Emerald’s foot swung up and down, and she picked at one of her false nails. “That fucking notebook, right?” She pointed at Anna. “Is that what this is about? Because I told you, I never saw it. I dunno where it is, and you said you didn’t have no handbag from her, so I said it was probably in that, right? So what you want me here for? And sending a fucking patrol car... I got to live in that block of flats, you know.”
“You look very pretty today,” Anna said, smiling.
It took Emerald by surprise. Her lip-glossed mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. “I wish I could say the same to you.”
“Let’s not get into silly slanging matches. You are here because I am not satisfied that you told me the truth.”