Page 39 of Girl, Sought

‘Yes, I’ve heard about Miss Calloway. It was on the news. I’m terribly sorry.’

‘You knew her?’

'Yes, I did. May I ask who else has passed on?'

‘Mr. Alfred Finch. I believe you appraised his collection.’

‘My God.’ Vanessa's hand went to her throat. ‘You’re serious? How did this happen?’

‘Homicide,’ said Luca. He was still doing the need-to-pee dance, but from a sitting position. ‘Both within the past couple of days.’

‘This is… quite a shock, I’m sure you understand.’

Vanessa's shock registered in ways that even skilled liars would struggle to fake. As far as Ella was concerned, this was the first time Vanessa was hearing of Alfred’s death.

‘When did you last see them?’

‘Eleanor? Only last month. I appraised her doll collection myself.’

‘She paid $5,000 directly into your bank account. Why did she pay you and not your business account?’

'Purely technical reasons. We changed banking systems recently, and they were down for three days. During that time, any payments went to my personal account, which I transferred later.'

Ella believed her. It would be easy to verify her claims.

‘Alfred, on the other hand, I’ve never met him,’ Vanessa continued. ‘I believe I spoke to him on the phone, but one of my colleagues handled his paperwork.’

Luca shifted in his seat. ‘Did either of them mention any concerns? Unusual contacts, strange phone calls?’

‘No, not that I recall. They were both...’ Vanessa trailed off and stared at the demented squirrel on the bookcase. ‘They were passionate collectors. The kind who lived for their collections.’

‘We believe the killer may have had access to information about their collections. Possibly through your company's records.’

The color drained from Vanessa's face in stages, like watercolor bleeding into paper. 'That's impossible. Client information is strictly controlled. My workers and clients are all'

‘We'll need their names,’ Ella interrupted, but Vanessa was already shaking her head.

‘I can't just hand over personnel files. There are privacy concerns, contractual obligations. Some of my workers have had stalkers in the past - occupational hazard in this business. Others have specific non-disclosure agreements that...’

‘Miss Blackburn.’ Ella leaned forward and tried to ignore how Austin Creed's Jesus-squirrel seemed to watch from its perch. ‘Two people are dead. Killed in ways that required intimate knowledge of their collections. Someone in your orbit has that knowledge.’

‘I understand, but if word got out that the FBI were investigating my staff, do you know what that would-’

‘Your employees could be targets themselves. Or suspects. And there’s a very good chance that another collector on your database will be next.’

Vanessa's fingers tightened around each other. ‘Get a warrant. I'll provide everything you need, but I have to protect my people's privacy.’

‘That takes time we don't have.’ Ella fought to keep frustration from her voice. ‘The killer's escalating. He's not going to wait for paperwork. There could be another murder tonight. We need to act right now.’

Luca finally cracked. ‘Vanessa, could I use your bathroom? I’m dying here.’

‘Of course.’ Vanessa pointed toward the door. ‘Two doors down.’

He bolted like his shoes were on fire. Ella fought the urge to roll her eyes. Trust Luca to suck all the professionalism out of the room.

‘Your staff,’ Ella pressed. ‘We'll need to interview them.’

‘That's also complicated.’ Vanessa's tone cooled several degrees. ‘Not everyone who works for me is an employee. I have contractors. Evaluating collections isn’t a full-time job, so when a request comes in, I subcontract it to the most relevant person on my books.’

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