what Mrs Parks says about you!’ protested Conway. ‘It’s libel! You ought to sue her!’
‘No, it won’t be,’ said Georgiou. ‘It will be very carefully phrased, with no direct accusations, just hints and innuendos.’
‘Not this one,’ said Conway, tapping the open paper. ‘She says you beat her son up and it’s a disgrace you’ve been allowed back.’
Georgiou shrugged.
‘Like I said, I’ll read it later and decide what action to take, if any. In the meantime, let’s get back to the priority: the murders. What have you got?’
Ruefully, Conway and Little repeated what they’d turned up, which was just a rehash of what Tennyson had reported at the morning’s briefing. Then Seward and Taggart gave their report about what Rena Matlock had said about Eric Drake, and Tamara Armstrong being involved with making a film with him; and their interview with Paul Morrison.
Georgiou nodded, interested.
‘This Drake character sounds interesting,’ he said. ‘The killings have got all the hallmarks of some cheap horror film. Maybe there’s something there.’
‘Do you want to talk to him?’ asked Seward.
‘No,’ he said. ‘You’ve got it this far. You go with it. So, what else? Any connections between the two women?’
The four detectives looked gloomy as they shook their heads.
‘Nothing,’ said Conway. ‘We’ve tried everything you suggested, plus a few more. Different hairdressers, different hospitals for their appointments. They lived completely different lives. Nothing at all.’
‘Except for the fact they were killed,’ said Taggart.
‘And their names,’ said Little.
There was a pause in the room, and everyone turned to look at Little, who suddenly looked embarrassed.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘No, nothing is what we’ve got,’ corrected Georgiou. ‘What’s this about their names?’
Little looked at Conway, who shrugged as if to say ‘This is nothing to do with me’.
‘Armstrong and Nixon are both Reiver names,’ said Little.
And, with a shamefaced look that told everyone perhaps he felt he was being foolish, he enlarged on what he’d said to Conway about the Reivers being the connection. When he had finished, he looked around at the others.
‘Well,’ he said defensively, ‘we were asked if we knew of a connection.’
‘True,’ said Georgiou. ‘And, however far-fetched, at the moment it’s the only one we’ve got. OK, leave that one with me. For the rest, Seward and Taggart, go and dig out this Drake character. Conway and Little, go and see if forensics have finished their report yet. I want everything. What was under Tamara’s fingernails. Any traces of chemicals or anything on her skin. The killer must have gripped her to tie her up; let’s see if he left anything at all. Traces of deodorant. Sweat. Hairs. Anything. Where did the electric tape come from? Let’s nail down absolutely everything.’
‘Got it.’ Conway nodded. As the big Scot got up, he picked up the copy of the newspaper. ‘You sure you don’t want this?’ he asked.
Georgiou shook his head.
‘I said, I’ve got one.’
‘Yes, but you might want two copies,’ said Conway. ‘One to throw darts at; one to keep and read later when you’re calm.’
Georgiou smiled.
‘I’m already calm,’ he said.
As the four detectives left the room, Tennyson turned to Georgiou.
‘So, what’s our next move, boss?’ he asked.
‘We’re going to see a historian and talk about the Reivers,’ said Georgiou.
TEN
G eorgiou and Tennyson were sitting in the office of Diane Moody, one of the curators at Tullie House Museum, listening to a lecture on headhunters given with great enthusiasm for her subject. Diane Moody was a large woman with enormous, powerful-looking hands. Strangler’s hands, thought Tennyson.
‘As I have said, you will find the cult of the headhunter all over the world,’ Moody told them. ‘I’ve already given you the example of the jungles of
‘No, it won’t be,’ said Georgiou. ‘It will be very carefully phrased, with no direct accusations, just hints and innuendos.’
‘Not this one,’ said Conway, tapping the open paper. ‘She says you beat her son up and it’s a disgrace you’ve been allowed back.’
Georgiou shrugged.
‘Like I said, I’ll read it later and decide what action to take, if any. In the meantime, let’s get back to the priority: the murders. What have you got?’
Ruefully, Conway and Little repeated what they’d turned up, which was just a rehash of what Tennyson had reported at the morning’s briefing. Then Seward and Taggart gave their report about what Rena Matlock had said about Eric Drake, and Tamara Armstrong being involved with making a film with him; and their interview with Paul Morrison.
Georgiou nodded, interested.
‘This Drake character sounds interesting,’ he said. ‘The killings have got all the hallmarks of some cheap horror film. Maybe there’s something there.’
‘Do you want to talk to him?’ asked Seward.
‘No,’ he said. ‘You’ve got it this far. You go with it. So, what else? Any connections between the two women?’
The four detectives looked gloomy as they shook their heads.
‘Nothing,’ said Conway. ‘We’ve tried everything you suggested, plus a few more. Different hairdressers, different hospitals for their appointments. They lived completely different lives. Nothing at all.’
‘Except for the fact they were killed,’ said Taggart.
‘And their names,’ said Little.
There was a pause in the room, and everyone turned to look at Little, who suddenly looked embarrassed.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘No, nothing is what we’ve got,’ corrected Georgiou. ‘What’s this about their names?’
Little looked at Conway, who shrugged as if to say ‘This is nothing to do with me’.
‘Armstrong and Nixon are both Reiver names,’ said Little.
And, with a shamefaced look that told everyone perhaps he felt he was being foolish, he enlarged on what he’d said to Conway about the Reivers being the connection. When he had finished, he looked around at the others.
‘Well,’ he said defensively, ‘we were asked if we knew of a connection.’
‘True,’ said Georgiou. ‘And, however far-fetched, at the moment it’s the only one we’ve got. OK, leave that one with me. For the rest, Seward and Taggart, go and dig out this Drake character. Conway and Little, go and see if forensics have finished their report yet. I want everything. What was under Tamara’s fingernails. Any traces of chemicals or anything on her skin. The killer must have gripped her to tie her up; let’s see if he left anything at all. Traces of deodorant. Sweat. Hairs. Anything. Where did the electric tape come from? Let’s nail down absolutely everything.’
‘Got it.’ Conway nodded. As the big Scot got up, he picked up the copy of the newspaper. ‘You sure you don’t want this?’ he asked.
Georgiou shook his head.
‘I said, I’ve got one.’
‘Yes, but you might want two copies,’ said Conway. ‘One to throw darts at; one to keep and read later when you’re calm.’
Georgiou smiled.
‘I’m already calm,’ he said.
As the four detectives left the room, Tennyson turned to Georgiou.
‘So, what’s our next move, boss?’ he asked.
‘We’re going to see a historian and talk about the Reivers,’ said Georgiou.
TEN
G eorgiou and Tennyson were sitting in the office of Diane Moody, one of the curators at Tullie House Museum, listening to a lecture on headhunters given with great enthusiasm for her subject. Diane Moody was a large woman with enormous, powerful-looking hands. Strangler’s hands, thought Tennyson.
‘As I have said, you will find the cult of the headhunter all over the world,’ Moody told them. ‘I’ve already given you the example of the jungles of
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