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.”
