Reeve's eyes became hooded. “Who? Shelly what?”
“Shelly Platt. You can't be denying that you know her. According to my man at the hospital, she recognised you the moment she saw you this morning.”
“Lots of people recognise me. I get around. So does Tricia. Our faces must be in the papers once a week.”
“Shelly Platt states that she told you about the two girls' going into business for themselves. You can't have liked that. It can't have done much to enhance your reputation as a man with his stable under control.”
“Look. If a flatbacker wants to go it alone, I could give a shit, all right? They find out soon enough how much work and money's involved in attracting the calibre of clients they're used to. Then they come back, and if they're lucky and I'm in the mood, I take them back. It's happened before. It'll happen again. I knew it would happen to Maiden and Nevin if I waited them out long enough.”
“And if they didn't want back in? If they were more of a success than you anticipated? What then? And what can you do to prevent the rest of your girls from trying their luck as independents?”
Reeve leaned back in his chair. “Are we here to talk about the * game in general or do you want some straight answers to last night's questions? Your choice, Inspector. But make it quick. I don't have the time to sit here and chew the fat with you.”
“Mr. Reeve, you're not in a bargaining position. One of your girls is dead. The other—her partner—has been beaten and left for dead. Either this is a remarkable coincidence or the events are related. The link appears to be you and their decision to leave you.”
“Which makes them not my girls any longer,” Reeve said. “I'm not involved.”
“So you'd like us to believe that a call girl can leave you, set herself up in business in competition with you, and not expect any reprisal. Free market economy, with the spoils going to him or her with the superlative product. Is that it?”
“I couldn't have put it better.”
“The best man wins? Or the best woman, for that matter?”
“The first precept of business, Inspector.”
“I understand. So you'll have no objection to telling me where you were yesterday while Vi Nevin was being assaulted.”
“As my half of the deal, I'm happy to tell you. Once I learn what your half's going to be.”
Lynley felt weary with the pimp's manoeuvring. “Put him on the charge sheet,” he said to DC Budde. “Assault and murder.” The constable rose.
“Hey! Wait a minute! I came here to talk. You offered a deal to Tricia yesterday. I'm claiming it today. All you need to do is put it on the table so we both know what we're agreeing to.”
“That's not how things work.” Lynley got to his feet.
DC Budde took the pimp's arm. “Let's go.”
Reeve shook him off. “Fuck that shit. You want to know where I was? All right. I'll tell you.”
Lynley sat again. He hadn't switched the recorder off, and the pimp in his agitation hadn't noticed. “Go on.”
Reeve waited until Budde had returned to his seat. He said, “Keep a collar on Rufus. I don't like being manhandled.”
“We'll take note of that.”
Reeve rubbed his arm as if contemplating a future suit charging policy brutality. He said, “All right. I wasn't at home yesterday. I went out in the afternoon. I didn't get back till night. Nine or ten o'clock.”
“Where were you, then?”
Reeve looked as if he was calculating the damage he was about to inflict upon himself. He said, “I went there. I admit it. But I wasn't there when—”
For the record, Lynley said, “You went to Fulham? To Rostrevor Road?”
“She wasn't there. I'd been trying to track them down all summer, Vi and Nikki. When those two cops—the black and the dumpy broad with chipped front teeth—came round for a chat with me on Friday, I had a feeling they could lead me to Vi if I played it right. So I had them followed. I went back the next day.” He grinned. “Something of a turn-around, huh? Tailing the cops instead of the reverse.”
“For the tape, Mr. Reeve: You went to Rostrevor Road yesterday.”
“And she wasn't there. No one was there.”
“Why did you go to see her?”
Reeve examined his nails. They looked freshly buffed. His knuckles, however, were swollen and bruised. “Let's say I went to make a point.”
“In other words, you beat Vi Nevin.”