Parkinson’s sudden outburst of laughter bordered on the hysterical. ‘What on earth makes you think I’d help the likes of you?’
As reluctant as he was to use the ploy he had in mind, Bliss felt he had no real alternative. ‘That’s an easy one,’ he said. ‘Because there’s a good chance that your son has also been had over. Tell me – is there a young, slender blonde in his life, Nicola? Someone close? Someone he might have helped get started in her business, without having a clue what it actually entailed?’
The ensuing silence told Bliss his guess had been correct. This was the moment to leave a space for Parkinson herself to figure out the pros and cons, the result of which could only end in his favour. When she eventually replied, her voice sounded hollow and uncertain.
‘Troy was seeing a girl a while back. Young, blonde and slim, just like you described. She’s not local, though.’
‘I can’t promise you anything if he’s also involved, Nicola. But if you give me a name, I can tell you this much: I won’t push for him as a co-conspirator if I truly believe he knew nothing about this sordid business.’
Another pause. For a moment Bliss wondered if he’d lost her. Then he heard her release a long, pent-up breath.
‘I’ll tell you,’ she said. ‘Her name is Yeva.’
Forty-Eight
‘Law of averages,’ Bliss said, meeting Savchuk’s stubborn gaze across the table. ‘We pulled five of you from the container that day at RAF Wittering. Stands to reason there’s no way all of you would prove to be fine, upstanding citizens.’
Bishop had asked Bliss to sit in on the interview with DC Ansari, who would conduct much of it. The feeling was that his connection might make the difference. They sat in what was the largest of the interview rooms, yet four bodies inside that ten-by-twelve space had always felt stifling and uncomfortable. Now it was undeniably claustrophobic, and Bliss was pleased they’d had no need of an appropriate adult as well.
Savchuk’s solicitor cleared her throat before responding to his comment. ‘You have provided no evidence to suggest that my client is not the fine and upstanding citizen you speak of. Please move on.’
Bliss turned his gaze upon Pru Harrington. No duty solicitor for Yeva Savchuk; Harrington worked for perhaps the best firm of solicitors in the city. She and Bliss had crossed paths before, and they did not like each other.
‘See that folder my colleague DC Ansari has placed on the table? It contains all the evidence we need. Your client paints herself as a hard worker for a genuine establishment, yet we know she also used to work as an escort to supplement her salary, and we have witness statements to that effect.’ Bliss raised a hand to prevent the solicitor jumping in. ‘And before you act all outraged and tell me being an escort is not a crime, it reveals a prior degree of deception and manipulation when talking to us.’
Harrington, dressed in a two-piece trouser suit and looking sharp and elegant, turned her best full-lipped smile on him. ‘That wasn’t what I was about to say. I was going to make it abundantly clear that unless that folder also happens to contain proof of my client’s involvement in this site on the dark web, our time here will be brief.’
Bliss glanced across at Ansari and nodded for her to pick things up. Leaving the folder unopened, the DC took time to gather her thoughts before speaking.
‘Your client might think she was clever in hiding her tracks. She had her boyfriend purchase the equipment at the same time as he leased the office space on her behalf. In our opinion, that was simply because she lacked the funds to get the business started. Essentially, she persuaded him to put up the seed money for her little enterprise while allowing her to remain in the background and well away from a paper trail.’
‘That sounds to me as if the evidence you have points to my client’s ex-boyfriend, not my client. If that’s the extent of it, I think we’ll be going.’ She moved as if to stand, but Bliss slapped a hand on the table, startling all three women in the room.
‘Stay where you are,’ he snapped. ‘Because your client certainly is.’
‘I beg your par–’
‘Put your arse back in the chair. You’re not fooling anyone.’
Ansari jumped back in. ‘I’d do as he suggests, if I were you. Because Ms Savchuk is no criminal genius. The thing is, she planned well in getting it all together. Her boyfriend was happy enough to be receiving regular payments to cover the initial outlay and the monthly outgoings. However, your client knew nothing about programming; she had to employ somebody else to do the development work. In addition, the income generated by the site couldn’t be funnelled through your client’s boyfriend. Far too risky for him, given his association with Lewis Drake’s organisation. So instead that money went elsewhere. A traceable elsewhere, as it turns out.’
Ansari sat back, her eyes flitting between the two women seated opposite. Meanwhile, the fingers of her right hand tapped an unconscious rhythm on the folder. Bliss hid a smile; the folder contained a great deal of printed scraps, bulking out the supposed evidence. The team had been extremely busy since Nicola Parkinson had revealed the name of the woman her son had been involved with. What they had managed to discover so far was good enough, but it never did any harm to suggest you had more.
Harrington leaned over to whisper something in Yeva Savchuk’s ear. The young woman shook her head brusquely and replied in a soft voice. The solicitor nodded and turned to face the two detectives.
‘This programmer you say my client employed – have you spoken with him? He’s made a statement?’
Still refusing
