“Good Lord. You and Sergeant O’Malley have been busy.”
“It’s one compelling motive for her murder. So is blackmail.” Tennant explained the discovery of the envelopes in Margot Miller’s desk.
Julia shook her head. “Surprising but not shocking, somehow. She’s been knee-deep in everything about this case.”
“And in the background is the disappearance of several shopgirls over the past year. At least one of them modeled for the artists. Yet the chief refuses to hand us the earlier cases.”
“Why?”
“Partly because I asked for them. Partly because the chief always doubles down on a bad decision.”
“Frustrating for you.”
“An artist named Will Quain told us about Margot and the pornography scheme. Miss Allingham gave me his name.”
“Mary is a good guide if the answer is somewhere in the art world.”
Tennant nodded. “Louisa seems to hold it at a distance, so I needn’t bother her, but Miss Allingham might recognize the style of some of the other paintings. I’m not eager to show her the kind of work her brother commissioned, but I’m afraid it must come to that.”
“Well . . .”
Tennant waited as Julia hesitated. “What is it?”
“I don’t know about Mrs. Allingham, but Mary is no Dresden figurine. She’s less breakable than you think. Do you remember the newspaper story about a woman who paid twenty pounds to save one of the Regent’s Park skaters?”
“Was that—”
“Mary.”
Tennant blew out his cheeks. “The lady keeps a cool head in a crisis.”
Julia stirred her cup, considering. “Perhaps it’s best not to push Mary too hard just now. What about asking the artist? Show the pictures to Mister Quain. He’d probably be happy to cooperate if only to deflect suspicion from him.”
“That’s an excellent suggestion. I won’t say you’re wasted in the medical profession. Still . . .”
“Just doing my bit for Queen, country, and the Yard.”
“Sergeant O’Malley wonders if a dark-haired girl Quain mentioned—a girl who fled his studio—might be Annie O’Neill.”
“It’s possible. Margot had pressured her to sit for more revealing poses. She refused. But for Margot to go from modeling to pornography?”
“It’s a fine line under the statute. Eastlake, the family lawyer, rightly pointed out that a private art collection isn’t illegal. If Allingham sold them to like-minded ‘connoisseurs,’ that would be trafficking and quite another matter.”
Julia fiddled with her teaspoon. “Yesterday, Annie came to my clinic while Miss Allingham was there.”
“With injuries again?”
“No. She came to have some stitches taken out. Instead, the girl took one look at Mary and bolted. It was obvious that she had something on her mind.”
“I think it’s time for another word with Miss O’Neill.”
Julia sighed. “I know you must. Look, I’m seeing Annie tomorrow about removing those stitches. Let me try once more to win her confidence and persuade her to talk to you.”
“Very well.”
“Thank you, and . . .” Julia looked away.
“What is it?”
