‘A run. Yes it was good. But hot.’
‘You ran out in that heat?’
‘You get used to it. I’ll ask you again, who are you?’
‘The name’s James Ryker.’
‘And why are you here?’
‘I’m working with the police.’
‘You don’t look like a policeman. You’re too... I don’t know.’
‘I’m not a policeman.’
‘So what are you then?’
‘A helping hand.’
‘Helping with what?’
‘I’m investigating the murder of Kim Walker.’
Eva looked away from Ryker. She was a cool character, full of sass and self-confidence. But clearly she wasn't beyond being rattled. And Ryker could tell that Kim Walker was not a comfortable subject for her.
‘I’ve already given a statement to the police about that.’
Ryker raised an eyebrow. ‘And why would you be required to do that?’
Eva turned back to face him. Above her already rosy cheeks, Ryker was sure he saw her blush. ‘Because of me and Patrick.’
‘How long have you been sleeping with him?’
‘Is this an official visit?’ Eva glared at Ryker, the first sign of anger evident.
Ryker shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
‘I’d rather have my lawyer here before speaking to you any more.’
‘You have a lawyer? Why do you need a lawyer?’
‘He’s my father’s lawyer.’
‘And where’s your father?’
‘At work.’
Ryker paused. The talk of lawyers made him wary – as it had when Green had mentioned Walker’s lawyer. Whatever these people had to tell, whatever they knew of Kim Walker, with high-profile lawyers on the scene no one would be willing to open up. Perhaps that was why Green and the local police had made so little headway.
‘This is just a little chat,’ Ryker said. ‘A getting to know you. Can we do that? There’s no need for you to call a lawyer.’
Eva stared at Ryker again and he held her gaze. He saw the same raw intensity in her eyes as when he’d first seen her in the village. Ryker had to admit he was drawn to it, even though he sensed that Eva was not someone to be trusted.
‘Thanks for helping me earlier,’ she said.
‘It was nothing. I was just there to speak to Walker. Had to get his attention somehow.’
Eva laughed. ‘You must really have a way with people.’
‘Why were you two arguing?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘A story you’re going to tell me, right?’
Eva hesitated for a few seconds. ‘Okay. But look at me. I’m covered in sweat. I really need to take a shower. Fix yourself a drink and I’ll be back down in five minutes. Yeah?’
‘Okay.’ Ryker raised an eyebrow and looked around the huge kitchen.
‘There’s coffee. Tea. Beer. Liquor. Whatever. Help yourself.’
Eva spun round and sauntered off. As she reached the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled to see Ryker still had his eyes on her. She left the room and Ryker heard her padding up the stairs.
After a few moments, he moved over to the kitchen area, found a glass and poured himself some water from a bottle in the fridge.
Despite her allure, Eva gave Ryker an eerie feeling. He was drawn to her, there was no doubt about that. She had a seductive air that even in her early twenties she already seemed an expert at exploiting. But Ryker also knew Eva was a trouble-maker. She’d spotted him roaming in the back garden, had almost without question invited him into her father’s home, despite knowing little about who Ryker was, and within minutes had left him on his own.
Was she setting him up for a fall?
Maybe. It didn't matter. The window of opportunity was there nonetheless. Ryker headed straight out of the kitchen and through an expansive entrance lobby to the office he’d seen when he was outside. The door was locked. Not a problem. Ryker set down his glass on the floor, took out his picks, and in less than a minute, was inside.
He casually moved over to the desk and rummaged through the clutter, taking in as much as he could in the few minutes he expected he had. He remained vigilant for the sound of Eva coming back down the stairs, or for anyone else in the house. But he wasn’t that worried about being caught out. His job was to find answers, not to abide by the rules that constrained the police.
Among the papers, Ryker found piles of invoices, statements and correspondence with two different banks discussing loan facilities. A company called Empire Holdings cropped up more than once. He also noticed several references to a development with the name Blue Dolphin Villas. Much of the correspondence was marked as being to or from an Andrei Kozlov – with the address of the house that Ryker was currently standing in.
Ryker tried the desk drawers. The top two were locked. He didn’t attempt to pick them, just kept going. The third wasn’t locked. Ryker opened it.
The only objects inside were a pair of reading glasses and a small leather-bound book. The front cover was bare except for a gold-embossed cross and Cyrillic writing that Ryker knew was the Russian word for ‘bible’.
As Ryker pushed the drawer shut, he caught a glimpse of a shadow. He looked up to see Eva standing in the doorway. He was surprised he hadn’t heard her coming. Her entrance had obviously been intended to startle him. It hadn’t worked.
‘Find what you were looking for?’ she asked without any hint of shock or anxiety in her tone.
Eva was casually leaning against the doorway, dressed in a light summer dress that fell a few inches short of her knees. Her wet hair hung over her shoulders. Even though her face was now cleared of the thick make-up that had covered it for her dance routine earlier in the day, she was still a picture to look at. In fact Ryker thought the natural look suited her, even if it did make her features less intense.
‘Was trying to find the toilet,’ Ryker said. ‘The door was open.’
‘You’re not a very good liar.’
Ryker shrugged.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and sit somewhere more comfortable.’
She turned round and Ryker followed her through to a sitting room, where two large cream leather sofas were arranged opposite each other adjacent to an ornate stone fireplace.
‘Your father’s Russian,’ Ryker said. ‘Andrei Kozlov.’
‘Yes.’ Eva turned to face him. ‘You didn’t know?’
‘I thought you were local. You look Spanish.’
‘Eva Kozlov. Hardly a Spanish name.’
‘I didn’t know your last name.’
‘You’re really not a very good detective, are you?’
‘I’m not any kind of detective.’
‘I was born in Russia.’ Eva sat on one of the sofas and crossed her legs in a manner which exposed as much skin as possible. Ryker remained standing, trying his hardest to keep his wandering gaze on her face. ‘But my mother is half-Spanish. I guess that’s where my looks come from. We moved here when I was nine. So I’ve been in Spain more than half my life.’
‘Where’s your mother?’