Chapter 29
‘Anything?’ he said, stuffing a lump of Cheddar in his mouth. He grimaced. Train-station cheese was not nice cheese. It was sweaty and had hard edges. He thought about eating an olive to take away the taste, but decided that bad cheese was better than a good olive. He took a swig of coffee instead.
‘I’ve already found it, Poe. The video with Esmerée’s mother anyway. The full video. It includes them getting ready and getting cleaned up afterwards. The start and finish were edited out of the one that was uploaded.’
‘And?’
‘It seems Chance Ryzcek was right. Esmerée’s mother never removes her mask.’
‘And the tattoos? Are there any clearer images? Maybe if there are, we can confirm with Esmerée that this woman is her mother.’
‘Nothing yet, Poe, and I haven’t found the lighting photographs Mr Ryzcek mentioned. I did find the performer release forms, though.’
‘And?’
‘The name she gave wasn’t Océane Blue. But if it is her, she’s hardly likely to use her own name. Not if the FBI are looking for her.’
Poe checked the time on the departures screen. ‘We have thirty minutes before the platform will be announced. I’m not eating any more of that manky cheese. It tastes like it was harvested from underneath Bugger Rumble’s toenails.’
Bradshaw gagged.
‘I’ll get us some proper food while you keep looking.’
Poe left the first-class lounge/third-rate cheese vendor and made his way to the concourse.
He reluctantly ignored the pop-up shop selling gigantic Cornish pasties and instead joined the queue at Leon.
Their slogan – ‘Food that tastes good and does you good’ – seemed promising.
He should be able to get Bradshaw something.
And if there was nothing he fancied, he’d go back and get a Cornish pasty the size of his head. Maybe two.
Leon came up trumps, though. He ordered a black bean rice pot for Bradshaw and peanut satay chicken for himself.
‘Yours is a vegan dish, apparently,’ he said when he returned. ‘I checked.’
But instead of picking up the wooden fork that came with her meal, Bradshaw spun her laptop round. He had to bend down and face it head-on, as the privacy screen was still attached. He looked at what Bradshaw wanted him to see.
‘Blimey, that is a tattoo,’ he said.