Page 39 of Her Last Walk Home

‘Oh, sorry.’ The woman zipped up her cosmetic bag and lifted a keyboard from her lap to the desk. ‘About a year. Greg is a fantastic photographer. The girls love working with him.’

‘I’m sure they do,’ Lottie muttered, then smiled sweetly. ‘Do you find much work for them, once they have their photos taken?’

‘We help them compile a portfolio and provide work contacts. It’s all very exciting.’

‘Have you modelled?’

The girl blushed beneath her make-up. ‘A bit. Nothing glamorous. But I love working for Greg.’

‘Inspector Parker?’ Plunkett walked towards her, hand outstretched. At least he hadn’t approached Boyd first, because if he’d made that mistake, her temper would have spiked. ‘You asked to see me?’

‘I did. Can we talk in your office?’

‘Of course. Cathy, pull up my diary. I need the list of locations for today’s shoots.’

‘Certainly,’ the girl said, fluttering her fake eyelashes. Help me, God, Lottie thought.

She studied Greg Plunkett. His clean-shaven jaw was as sharp as his grey suit, but she felt his affability was strained. Trying to be nice? Maybe. And she concluded that his photo had not been altered. He was a handsome man, short fair hair and startling blue eyes.

As they entered his office, she wasn’t impressed by its ordinariness. A small desk with a laptop on top, a chair behind the desk with another two chairs in the corner beside a filing cabinet. No photos on these walls either. Nothing to entice a young woman into modelling. It had to be a front for something else.

‘What can I do for you?’ He sat behind the desk, indicating the other two chairs. Boyd sat in the corner. Lottie remained standing.

‘Are you aware that the body of a young woman was found yesterday?’

‘I read about it online. Awful business.’

‘How does this modelling agency work?’

Confusion knitted his brows. ‘Why would you want to know that?’

She wasn’t about to give him too much information. Laura’s name had yet to be released to the media, but Twitter was at work. Anyhow, she wanted to see what he’d reveal first. ‘It’s part of our investigation. That’s all I can say for the moment.’

His eyes jumped from hers to Boyd’s and back again. She waited him out. The silence in the small space bore down on her shoulders like a heatwave. She wished she’d taken off her coat.

‘Has this dead woman something to do with my agency?’

‘You tell me.’

‘I don’t even know her name.’

Maybe he did or maybe he didn’t, but she told him anyway. ‘Laura Nolan.’

He pursed his lips and ran a finger along his chin, face like chalk. ‘Name doesn’t immediately mean anything.’

‘You took her photograph.’

‘Did I? I take a lot of photographs. I have over fifty young women and some young men registered with my agency. Let me check.’ He fiddled with a laptop and eventually raised his head. ‘Sorry, but this Nolan woman is not registered here.’

‘Maybe you should check the names registered with your other agency?’

‘What do you mean?’ His eyes had taken on a cold, piercing glare.

‘You also operate Right One Escorts.’

‘What?’

‘We found Laura’s photo, taken by you, on that site.’

---