“How many times did you pick up Maggie?”
“Just that once. I swear before God it was just the once. I’m married, and if my wife knew I’d been with such a slag, she’d kill me. It was just that one time, and she set that bastard on to me.”
It took another half hour before they got the exact details of how he had been contacted by a big bodybuilder type. McKinney never even knew his name, but the man had called his company, and when he was next delivering to London, the guy had found out his destination and was waiting there for him.
“He threatened to tell me bosses about that tart and said if I didn’t cough up the cash, he’d make sure I’d never even be able to pick up a pack of fags. So I paid him, never heard nothing more.”
From his description of the bodybuilder, Anna was certain it was Eric Potts who had threatened him.
McKinney was released without any charges, and they opened the window to get some fresh air into the room.
“What do you think?” Mike asked, wafting a file in front of his face like a fan.
“I think I need to talk to Eric Potts again.”
“But that incident took place almost a year before she was murdered.”
“Yes, I know.”
Anna repeated to Mike her talk with Cameron Welsh and went into more detail about her meeting with Eric, who was now a possible, but doubtful, suspect.
“Would the brother-in-law have been stalking her? Doesn’t sound likely to me.”
Anna shrugged. “He did admit to caring for her. Maybe it was more than that. Let me see what else I can get out of him.”
Returning to the incident room, Mike gave a briefing and the update of the interview with McKinney. His description of exactly how Margaret Potts worked the service stations added nothing new to their inquiry. Margaret would usually be hanging around the lorry parking area and was a well-known fixture, as McKinney had admitted seeing her there on numerous occasions. Although he’d confessed to going with her only the one time, both Anna and Mike suspected that he might have lied.
Tom had explained that she would wait for the men to come out from one or other of the cafés and then approach them as they returned to their trucks to offer her “services.” He had said he had seen her getting in and out of a number of vehicles over some considerable time. He also said that she would sometimes climb aboard and drive out with the driver to go to the next service station. She offered a blow job, a hand job, or full sex. It was all horribly seedy, and it would mean yet another round of officers interviewing truckers who were known to do regular stops.
McKinney was unable to tell them how far up the motorway she would travel as she was picking the guys up at the London Gateway. She was wary about being caught by any of the security cameras, but if a john wanted full sex, then they would drive somewhere out of the way and she would go into the back of their cabs. She would then, they presumed, either go back home or return to work.
During the briefing, DC Barbara Maddox listened, sighing inwardly at the awful way this woman had earned her living. She was certain that neither of the still unidentified girls would be working the same deal. Both were young, and the postmortem reports stated that they had been raped and strangled. The last victim’s hymen had visible tear damage, so it was possible she had been a virgin before the attack.
Mike looked over the board and back to the team. “That’s it,” he told them. “Not much to go on, is it? Let’s hope we get something back from the next TV appeal for information on our two Jane Does.”
The following morning, Anna, accompanied by Barolli, went back to the debt collection agency. She was not anticipating gaining anything more from Eric Potts and told Barolli to give her some breathing space.
He bridled. “What do you mean?”
“Just don’t get too heavy or interrupt too much. I want to take it slowly.”
“Whatever.” Barolli got out and slammed the car door shut. He looked toward the fish-and-chip shop, which was closed, as it was only nine-fifteen. The seedy office door was also closed. It appeared the building had previously been used by a minicab company. Their cards and a torn plaque were hammered into the brick wall.
“It’s up on the second floor,” Anna said.
Barolli grunted, pressing the bell. “Doesn’t look as if they’re open for business.”
Anna stepped back to look up to the dirty windows. “Light’s on. Ring again.”
Barolli kept his finger on the bell for a few moments. There was a loud click, and the door opened automatically. Mrs. Kelly stood on the second landing, waiting for them to come up.
“I’m just going out for some fresh coffee. Do you want to see my husband? Because he’s not coming in this morning.”
Anna asked to see Eric Potts. Just as Mrs. Kelly began to say he was also not in the office, they heard heavy footsteps on the stairs behind them. It was Eric.
Anna introduced Barolli as Eric unlocked his office, asking Mrs. Kelly to bring him coffee and a toasted bacon sandwich. He seemed slightly edgy, pushing open the door to walk in ahead of them.
“I got a lot on today,” he said, taking off his coat and hanging it up on a nail hammered into a wall.
“This shouldn’t take too long. It’s just I need to iron out a few things,” Anna told him.
“I dunno what they could be, as I’ve already told you everything, and don’t think I liked giving up the names of the blokes that work for us here. It’s hard enough to earn a living right now, and I hope helping out Maggie isn’t gonna get me or them into trouble.”
He sat at his desk. Anna took the only other available seat, leaving Barolli to stand by the door.
“We traced the lorry driver, and I just wanted to clarify that it was you who talked to him and received money from him on behalf of Margaret.”
“I admitted it, didn’t I? It was the big bloke that delivered watercoolers, right?”
“Yes. He claimed that he only ever picked up Margaret that one time and, I would say, regretted it.” She smiled.
Eric shrugged his massive shoulders.
“I need to ask you about any other incident you personally handled,” Anna went on.
“I just did it that one time for her. I’ve got too much on my plate to run around after anyone else. Like I said, a couple of blokes here did a bit of collecting for her, but not recently. It was all a long time ago. She’s been dead two years, for chrissakes.”
“You cared for her, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but that was also a long time ago, and apart from the odd call, I hadn’t seen her. I also told you I didn’t want to be bothered with her anymore, as my wife didn’t want her at the house.”
“These other times you saw her, where did you meet?”
He sighed, saying that he had already mentioned meeting her in a café. He then remembered a couple of calls from her to his office and said he had met her at the same café by King’s Cross station.
“She just needed money, as always. I think she used the station ladies’ room to wash up and sometimes left her belongings in the luggage lockers. It’s got to be at least eighteen months before she was murdered, and I told her then that I’d had enough of being a cash cow for her.”
“How did she take it?”
“Well, she looked pretty ragged, so much that I gave her more than I’d intended; plus, I told her not to come round to the house anymore.”
“How did she react to that?”
He sighed again, becoming visibly irritated. “She didn’t like it, because once we’d been intimate. She reckoned I’d always be an easy touch.”