“Detective Ticker?” Durant said.
She examined him carefully, head to foot and back up again, then shook her head and said, “No.”
“But you were Detective Mary Ticker?”
She nodded.
“I’d like to talk to you about the Goodisons.”
“Why?”
“They’ve disappeared.”
Her instant smile was happy, even delighted, and displayed a lot of well-cared-for teeth. Then it vanished, as quickly as it came, but not before it had softened her face and erased some of the bitterness from her eyes. After the smile was gone and the bitterness back, she said, “Perhaps you’d best come in and tell me the juicy bits.”
The sitting room was small and cramped and focused on a large television set with an attached VCR. Opposite the set was a kitchen alcove and just beyond it was a closed door that Durant guessed led to the bedroom and bath. Three easy chairs were drawn up to the TV set. In front of the center chair was a low table just the right size and height to hold tea and supper trays, which Durant suspected it did. The walls, he noticed, were papered with climbing pink roses interrupted here and there by inexpensive prints of rural scenes that Durant thought looked like Devon. A mirrored armoire served as a closet, and four pine shelves attached to a wall held a collection of china cats. A real cat, a fat calico, slept in one of the easy chairs.
“Do sit down,” Mary Ticker said as she lowered herself into the chair by the small table. Durant thanked her and sat down in the chair not occupied by the cat. Mary Ticker lit a cigarette from the butt of the one she was smoking. Durant counted seven ashtrays scattered about the room.
“I thought the Goodisons cured you of that,” he said.
“The cure didn’t take, did it?” She made a small gesture with the cigarette. “Mind?”
“No.”
“Tell me about their vanishing act.”
“I don’t know much,” Durant said. “All I know is that they flew to Los Angeles to hypnotize Ione Gamble — then vanished.”
“Must of been a bit of money in that.”
“Quite a bit.”
“Where do you fit in?”
“My firm’s been hired to find them.”
“What’s your firm?”
“Wudu, Limited.”
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s a small firm.”
“That what it does mostly, go look for people gone missing?”
“Sometimes.”
“What’s it do the rest of the time?”
Durant only smiled.
“Jenny hire you?”
“Her boss did.”
“The German bloke?”
Durant nodded and, after a long silence that was accompanied by a frown and three drags on her cigarette, Mary Ticker said, “They’re bent, you know.”
“The Goodisons?”
“Mmm.”
“How bent?”
“They killed their mum and dad, they did. In Malta. Poisoned them for a flat in Hammersmith and a few thousand quid insurance money.”
“But you can’t prove it.”
“They’d be locked away if I could.”
“I thought you and the Goodisons were friends.”
“That what Jenny said?”
Durant nodded.
Mary Ticker inhaled more smoke, blew it out and said, “That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before they made a fool of me.” She ground out her cigarette in an ashtray, taking her time, mashing it down hard, enjoying its destruction. “You care for a drink — whisky?”
“Thanks.”
“Water do? There’s no ice.”
“Water’s fine.”
She went to the kitchen alcove, poured the drinks and served them. Durant noticed that his was paler than hers. She took a swallow, lit yet another cigarette with a disposable lighter and said, “It didn’t happen all at once.”
Not sure what she was talking about, Durant raised an eyebrow and said, “No?”
“They played me along. Very clever they were. Know how I really quit smoking?”
“Hypnotism?”
“That was all pretend on my part. I never went into a trance. Afraid to. But after the second session I stopped smoking just to please dear Hughes and sweet Pauline. I fancied them, the pair of them.”
“Anything come of it?”
“At first it was just a bit of kiss and cuddle, the three of us, with them pretending shock and shame, then leading me on and on ’til I did it.”
“What?”
“Got ’em some police work.”
“The rape case?” Durant said.
She nodded. “Jenny told you about that, did she?”
“A little.”
Mary Ticker finished her drink in two swallows, then said, “Let’s call her Alice.”
“The little girl — the one who was raped.”
“Sodomized. Made her bleed something dreadful. Parents horrified and panicky, not knowing what to do. They finally rang Paddington P.S. And I caught it.”
“That’s where you worked — Paddington Police Station?”
She nodded. “I got Alice to hospital and didn’t let her out of my sight. Stayed right with her while the doctor made his repairs, her lying there, facedown, not making a sound, half in shock, not even crying. The doctor let me hold her hand. She was seven then, going on eight.”
“Jenny Arliss said she couldn’t or wouldn’t talk.”
“Not a word, not a sound. Didn’t even shed one tear. But when the doctor was all done, she gave me a weak little smile that broke my heart.”
“When did you tell the Goodisons about Alice?”
“That same night — after I got her home and tucked up in bed and made sure her mum and dad were half-sober and her uncle was there to pitch in if mum and dad passed out.”
“That was Ned, wasn’t it? The uncle.”
The stare she gave him was cold, level and unforgiving. A true cop stare, Durant thought. “Jenny tell you Ned’s name?” she asked.
Durant nodded.
“Sometimes she speaks out of turn.”
“Let’s get back to the Goodisons,” he said.
“I needed to tell someone about Alice so Hughes and Pauline and me had supper at this Indian cafe where they do a nice curry. When I told them about Alice, they were proper shocked or acted like they were. And then, I don’t know, I suppose I brought it up about them hypnotizing Alice to see if she’d say who did it.”
“How’d they react — the Goodisons?”
“They were always a foxy pair. They’d been hammering me to get ’em some police business and now, when I offer it, they go all modest and say they’re not sure and perhaps they need more experience and silly things like that ’til I find myself almost begging them to do it. First they say no; then, well, perhaps, and finally they say yes. To celebrate we all go to their flat in Hammersmith and do a lot of kinky sex stuff.”
“Then what?”
“Next day I talk to my governor at Paddington P.S. He’s cool to the idea, but I keep after him and finally he warms up enough to say maybe — providing a doctor’s present. It takes near a week to bring him around and every evening I’m spending as much time as I can with Alice, who’d started humming.”
“Humming what?”
“Songs. She’d lie there and hum one song right after another. But she wouldn’t say anything. Not a word. Her mum and dad’re still into the gin and her Uncle Ned’s flitting about, oh-dear-me-ing it all and trying to keep things tidy.”
“How old were the parents and Uncle Ned?”
“All in their early thirties. Why?”
“No reason,” Durant said. “Just curious.”