The Outsider Test, 4. Invitation to a murder.

I left Scruff using some of the skills she had learned in that expensive private school - searching the internet for mention of the Outsider - while I went to get ready for bed. Even us crime-fighters have to sleep sometimes.
I stroked Samantha, my head cat and favourite side-kick.
"Purr-row!" she said.
"Same to you, Sam. I hope you like Scruff. She's a wonderful person really."
"Sis!" Scruff called. I wondered what she'd found. I ran into the living-room.
"What did you find?"
"This. It's to do with the death of Mrs. Crowle, the blackmailer."
I looked at the screen and gasped.

It was definitely the Outsider. There was only one person in the whole world who looked like that. And according to the report Mrs. Crowle had been hanged.
Another blackmailer. That sounded like a clue.
"I don't think the Outsider likes blackmailers," Scruff said.
"I don't think she does. Well, tonight we'll get some rest. To-morrow we can find her next target."
"Aren't you going out to a party?"
"Jason Barnard's fancy-dress party? Of course. Would you like to come too?"
"Me?" Scruff sounded surprised - I don't normally have her come to parties with me, since most parties I go to have a rather strict dress code.
"Well, at a fancy-dress party I can have some control over what you wear," I cracked. "I'll get your costume to-morrow."
"But the Outsider..."
"Scruff, the only reason I agreed to go to Jason Barnard's party is that he happens to be the biggest society blackmailer in London. Jason Barnard's got roving eyes - and roving hands."
"If the Outsider decides to gatecrash the party, he'll have a roving head," Scruff offered her opinion.
"Another reason to go to the party. Now, BED."
"Sis..." Scruff began.
"This is my flat, and we have work to do to-morrow."
We went off to bed. I slept fitfully, dreaming of a swirling, smokey figure with glowing red eyes. And murder.
It would be a VERY interesting party.