A camera dolly followed them along the track its operator sitting on the round stool mounted to the metal framework, fiddling with knobs and buttons, while someone else pushed the thing back into place.
A voice crackled out through speakers, hidden somewhere on the set. OK, that was great, but this time, Nichole, can you break in across Charless line about the bodies all bearing the devils mark? Youre not interested in his superstitious nonsense.
Jack pulled a face, then jerked his head towards a cluster of monitors and cables. Oops, better be quick. He hurried over, beckoning Logan and Steel after him.
Enthroned on a folding directors chair, at the heart of the nest of cables, was a huge man tall and wide, with a bizarre hairstyle that looked as if hed attached a lopsided sharks fin to his head then sprayed it scarlet. The goatee beard was an unnatural shade of Just-For-Men black. His thin rectangular glasses glinted in the reflected light of a little TV screen. OK, everyone, were running scene three-sixty-two. .
Excuse me, Zander, sir, youve got visitors.
The big man didnt look up from the monitor. Ive told you, Jack, you dont have to call me sir. Were all artists here. . Aaaaaaaaaand: action!
The whole place went silent.
Then a voice crackled through the speakers. Three-sixty-two, take four. Followed by a clack.
Nichole Fyfe looked up at the man in the robes. She has to be stopped.
A sigh. I understand your concerns, but shes a good finder. One of the best we have.
Shes a psychopath! A monster! Nicholes blue eyes blazed. Shes worse than the people were hunting.
Steel tugged at Logans sleeve, then warm stale cigarette breath whispered in his ear. Is the shagging going to start soon? Only Im no looking forward to the old git getting his knob out. Even if he manages to get it up, itll be all grey and wrinkly.
You have to understand: we have an obligation to uphold the peace.
You cant do that by murdering people! Nichole turned and marched towards the camera as it backed off along the dolly track. I didnt join the Fingermen for this.
Steel made a small moaning noise. Mind you, if she wants to get her kinky on Im all for it.
Will you shut up?
Rowan! The man in the robes limped after her. Mrs Shepherd found the Devils mark on every one of those-
Of course she did! Nichole spun around, hauled the pipe from her mouth and jabbed the man with the end. Look hard enough and youll find one on anyone. Give me a knife, a flame, and fifteen minutes, and Ill find the Devils mark on any minister you like. Another poke. Ill find one on you.
Steel licked her lips. Bet she goes like a jackhammer on a sunny day.
Shhhh!
Nichole Fyfe spun around and marched past the camera, off the set.
Rowan. Rowan! COME BACK HERE!
Silence.
Zander Clark leaned forward and pressed a button on the microphone mounted beside the monitor. Aaaand, cut! Thats a print, everyone, well done.
A round of applause rippled through the crew.
A round of applause rippled through the crew.
Jack stepped up and tapped the director on the shoulder. Sorry, Zander, but the police need to see you?
A frown crossed the huge face. What do the police. . He stared straight at Logan. Detective Sergeant McRae! And the frown turned into a smile. Now he looked exactly like the photo on the pass dangling from his neck. How nice to see you again, its been too long. And have you brought. . More smiling, and a little clap of the hands. Detective Inspector Steel, hows your lovely wife?
Steel sniffed. How come no ones got naked yet?
Blink. Then the smile turned into a grin. No, no, Inspector, havent you heard? Those days are behind me: were filming a proper Hollywood blockbuster here.
Oh. . Her shoulders drooped. No bonking at all?
One nude scene, but its very artistic and intrinsic to the plot. He leaned forward and keyed the microphone again. Charles, Nichole, you were superb. Were going to set up for three-six-three. Then he let go of the button. Now, its not that Im not happy to see you both again, but you wouldnt believe how much something like this costs every minute, so. .?
Logan stepped to one side, letting a woman with a big tray laid out with makeup scuttle by. We need to talk to you about Agnes Garfield.
The smile disappeared from Zanders face. He stared up at the lighting rig above their heads for a moment. Then a sigh deflated his huge frame. Give me fifteen minutes, then we can talk while theyre dressing the set for three-sixty-four.
God, she was a complete nightmare. Zander slouched in his seat, arms draped along the back of the row. The viewing room wasnt huge just big enough for fifty or sixty cinema seats arranged in half a dozen rows. A ceiling-mounted projector flickered images onto the screen at the front of the room, where a handful of people murmured down the front, spinning back and forward through footage of people in frocks shouting at one another.
Logan settled into a seat a couple down from the director. So she tried to break in?
Not to begin with, no. A shudder set his jowls wobbling. She was so sweet at the beginning: wanted to study film at Glasgow University, was a huge fan of the books, could we give her a job as a runner so she could get some industry experience?
According to her dad, she was going to Aberdeen Uni to do accountancy.
She was OK at the start did what she was told, always showed up on time, and her knowledge of the books was just. . encyclopaedic. Every time the writer had a problem shed be right there, polishing his ego and keeping him happy. Even came up with some great local PR exercises: competitions in the papers, cast and crew helping out at a soup kitchen, guided tours of the set for some primary school, dramatizing a real witchcraft trial from the fifteen-hundreds. . Zander sighed. Then everything changed: she started arguing with the designers and the chippies and the painters about the sets not being exactly like the book. Then she had a go at the script team for making changes to the story and the dialogue as if itd even be possible to do the book line-for-line on the screen.
DCI Steel slumped into the row of seats in front of Logan, clutching a wax-paper cup in one hand and a Danish pastry in the other. Cant believe theres no shagging. .
Every time she did it Id sit her down, and wed have a talk, and shed apologize and promise shed do better, and beg for another chance. And like the big softy I am, Id agree.
Have you no got any archive footage or something we could look at? You know, for old times sake?
But in the end, she was haranguing the actors about how they were interpreting the characters, or speaking their lines, and I had to ask her to leave.
Steel peeled the plastic lid off her cup and dark bitter tendrils of coffee coiled out into the cinema. Doesnt even have to be that hardcore, just a bit of girl-on-girl slippery. . What?
Logan glared at her. Could you give your libido a rest for five minutes? You can download some porn when you get home, OK?
Anyway, after we asked her to leave she started hanging about outside the studio, following people home, making a nuisance of herself. She snuck in a couple of times and had to be evicted. Then she did it in the dead of night and sprayed thieves and liars all over the Assembly set, slashed up some of the costumes too.
Steels face curdled, arms folded beneath her boobs. Was only asking.
Were not even doing the Thieves And Liars scene: its a huge book, we had to get rid of something. So I made a formal complaint. He brought his chin up, bringing a big swell of neck with it. I know it was mean of me, but this is a multi-million pound production, I cant have some hormonal teenager sabotaging it.
Zander? A tall gaunt man with hollow eyes and a tight-fitting polo shirt stood in the aisle a couple of rows down. The projectors light glittered back from his shiny bald head, as if hed been polishing it. His voice had the deep rumble of grinding icebergs, and as he spoke the saggy skin around his chin and neck rippled. As if hed once been a lot bigger, but someone had let all the air out. Do you have a minute to look at the cut for one-twenty-nine?
Zander took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. David: I was just telling them about Agnes Garfield.
The gaunt man grimaced. We shouldve pressed charges. People like that dont deserve. . He frowned at the back of Steels head, then stood and stared at Logan. Anyway, one-twenty-nine.
He turned and walked back to the front of the room, fiddled with a remote control, and the screen filled with black. Then a bleep. Then a dramatic shot of a woman in Grim-Reaper cloak, rich with black embroidery, on over a red leather jumpsuit. She threw the hood back. Bright scarlet hair tumbled about her face, teeth bared. . It was the other actress the one whod been on the TV with Nichole Fyfe, making naughty with the camera.
What was her name, Mary? Maureen? No: Morgan.
There was something. . not right about her slate-green eyes, something dangerous and unhinged.
Zander patted Logan on the arm and pointed at the screen. Shes magnificent, isnt she? Terrific actress.
The camera pulled out. Morgan was standing over someone kneeling on the ground, hands behind his back, a tyre wedged over his chest, head and one arm forced through the hole in the middle.
Thomas Leis, you have been found guilty of witchcraft-
Logan stood, the seat clacking back upright. Youre necklacing him?
Im not a witch, its a mistake! Tears and snot glistened on his face, eyes wide, mouth twisted.
-condemned to burn at the stake until you be dead.
Zander sat forward, squinting at the screen. Shh. .
I didnt do anything!
Coward. She pulled out a book of matches close up on her hands as she struck one, then twisted the book so they all caught fire then a low angle, looking up past the terrified man at her standing there.
PLEASE!
We found a dead body, Saturday evening, Logan pointed at the screen, just like that! Exactly like that.
Burn. Like youll burn in hell. A vicious smile. Itll be good practice for you. The blazing matchbook tumbled through the air, hit the tyre, and blue and yellow flames leapt up, cracking around the rim of the rubber.
The man on his knees screamed, wrenching himself from side to side, making the chains rattle. Close up on his face, wreathed in black smoke. .