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&039;One girl,&039; said Monserrat &039;Carol&039;

In the party photographs, Carol went from extra - cut off at the sides of pictures - to leading role She had caught Nolan&039;s attention: a whole sheet consisted of shots of her at the party, so with others, but irls there? Did Nolan have an instinct for spotting the soon-to-die? If so, Kate should be wary since he&039;d snapped off a reel on her too Was Carol flattered that the cyclops singled her out? Or spooked? For aphotographed That could have been pathetic fallacy, an awareness of the tragic ending shadowing innocent looks with spurious ob with canapes, then got lost in the crowd Had he been got rid of? Lin Tang, Edwina and the wrestler - Milton - were in the pictures Might they have hustled Tiirl?

Now, Nolan saw the ghostface girl and mu?&039; asked Bellaver

&039;She&039;s a white flame,&039; said Nolan

Beyond the party photos, they came to shots taken inside the taxi Carol had been in soon said Nolan took off without her Kate intuited that Lin Tang was still irritated by that escape, and would have been even if it hadn&039;t ended in murder

In the cab, Carol wore the St Bartolph&039;s scarf Nolan used high-contrast black-and-white film Other people were in the back of the taxi, but Nolan orking close, shooting Carol&039;s face whenever light cah the s Shadows chopped across the pictures These exposures would be blown up Perhaps a hand - with one of those fabled, distinctive rings - on her knee in one shot? Or an array of blobs would coalesce into a recognisable culprit? Kate thought they couldn&039;t be that lucky

Nolan was interested in Carol&039;s face Not so his lips in the shadows

Even hypnotised, he was drawn to her He put fingerprints on the sticky pictures

Having seen Carol dead, Kate was struck by how alive she&039;d been She understood why so et close Timmy Lea was lost without her Not that he&039;d have been able to hang on in her life if she were taken up by Nolan&039;s circle She was, or see on a blank, dead slate

The last contact sheet was a roll of colour, taken in Maryon Park in the blue light of pre-dawn Magic hour Carol, trailing that scarf, walked a path towards the trees, looking over her shoulder, s At Nolan, of course, but also at others Shadows clustered on the ground

Kate couldn&039;t help but hope Croft was there She&039;d waited decades for hiht red-mouthed It was as likely Carol had snatched the scarf from a student and run off with it as a trophy Why should she latch onto a , dazzling, dangerous persons were on hand

&039;That scarf,&039; she whispered to Bellaver &039;Was it found near the body?&039;

The Super checked his notebook &039;Nope Unless Griffin missed it&039;

&039;There was no scarf,&039; confir now, quite alar, Thomas?&039; Monserrat asked

&039;Red,&039; he said &039;Sunlight, like blood No Blood, like sunlight&039;

Ideally, the final photograph would have shown Carol in a clinch with a gore-smeared monster - his (or her) face captured perfectly in the light of dawn, fanged uilty Instead, it was an erass and jagged shadow, and Carol&039;s torn-open neck and shoulder

&039;Who&039;s here?&039; Kate asked, pointing at the photograph Monserrat passed on her question &039;Who&039;s with Carol?&039;

&039;Eyes,&039; he said &039;Sunrise eyes Burning blind&039;

&039;He doesn&039;t know any more,&039; Kate told Bellaver &039;If you push too far, he&039;ll break&039;

&039;Who is in this picture?&039; Monserrat insisted

&039;Can&039;t say Eyes, ice, aieee!&039;

Nolan&039;s mouth was full of white froth So him out of it,&039; said Kate to Monserrat &039;Or he&039;ll shrink inside his head You&039;ll never get hi instructions froave him the nod

&039;Wake up, Thomas,&039; he said, &039;in three-two-one&039;

Monserrat snapped his fingers and Nolan collapsed A Thunderbirds puppet, suddenly unstrung Despite the hypnotist&039;s order, the photographer hadn&039;t woken up He&039;d gone to sleep, which couldn&039;t be good WPC Rogers caught Nolan easily and heaved his deadweight upright He carips of a uniforers patted hiht drunk and handed hi a nice cup of tea and a suggestive biscuit Thomas Nolan was insulated like a child He had people to nanny hi off

Bellaver looked at the disarrayed photographs and shrugged &039;I&039;d say "every little helps", but it doesn&039;t, does it?&039;

Kate had to adlass and twiddled with it

She kept going over the contact sheets There was so she shouldn&039;t A notion fluttered, de attention - but when she looked again, through the glass, at particular pictures, she couldn&039;t see what it was

It was ht out but cool The sun that had risen on Carol Thatcher&039;s death was going down Kate, bone-tired and headache-ha of night With dark-adapted eyes, she ht see more

Edwina came back then She had corralled someone else to make the tea

&039;Phone call,&039; she said &039;For the Superintendent&039;

&039;Probably the Chief Constable, dishing out a bollocking,&039; Bellaver said to Kate &039;He doesn&039;t like being bothered by your lot - journalists - on Sundays, or any other time And he likes to spread the joy&039;

Bellaver went to the waiting rooued by Edwina&039;s healthy throat She was a very English girl - almost prim - with an attractive little croak in her voice

&039;If you&039;re thinking of biting me, luvvy, you can shove off,&039; she said

Kate shut her mouth and - she was sure - went red She&039;d be looking like a pillar-box again She didn&039;t drink from other women, except in the most antiseptic, unromantic of circu dry spells She supposed she was still a Victorian Not that the Victorian times she reing &039;60s; people were just better about keeping quiet

Bellaver ca bad news

&039;The Chief Constable?&039;

&039;Worse George Dixon There&039;s been another one A dead girl Another white-lips He&039;s not going to stop at that, is he? The bastard It&039;s a fla spree&039;