Evolve or Die! 7.

The Sparrow is an international crime-fighter and superheroine. She's also an old school friend of mine (maybe my old school should advertise the fact?). I use her as my forensic lab when she's in town. She was born blind, but her dad, a brilliant man, made her artificial eyes that can see in practically any spectrum. Which is handy, really. The electronic eyes have a computer link to her brain, and she uses that (along with the bes virus-protection in the world) to link her brain to the internet. Again, might useful.
She knows just about everything about science. Whereas I don't kow enough to analyse the sample. So Emily and I just watched in fasination as Alice examined the blood sample. It didn't do any harm, and I'm sure Alice appreciated my expression. It was one of those moments when I wished I looked like Emily -no-one can see her expression!!
"Jane," Alice said at length. "That's the most fascinating sample you've ever brought me. There's a toxin in this blood so virulent that it kills the victim within five minutes. Where did you get it?"
"You KNOW where I got it!"
"All right, then where did the victim get it?"
"In a 'hit' of heroin, I assume."
"That's impossible. But you know nearly as much about crime as I do, so you must be right. There's no way this drug could have been administered with heroin. The reaction... unless... it might have been administered in two parts! That would have got around the reaction. Part with the heroin, and part later, with something else."
"A two-part poison?"
"Yes. The Borgias were expert at such things, and this one was used back in the 16th century as a way of getting rid of people who were unwanted. It was often administered years apart, the first part stays in the system for years, the second part can then be administered later. Both parts are quite harmless on their own..."
"Then the killer's 'cut' the first part with the drugs he's selling and he administers the second part to his victims later?"
"It could be much later," Alice affirmed.
"Alice, we're in serious trouble. Who knows how long the contaminated drugs have been circulating for? Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of drug-addicts could have been poisoned. They're carrying around half of a lethal poison in their systems, and when the second part is administered, they'll die horribly."
"You've got your motive then, Jane, someone hates drug-addicts."
I nodded. I had a probable motive. But I had no suspects at all.

Evolve or Die! 6.

The Outsider and I faced three armed police officers. The potential for misunderstanding was huge. After all, I'd broken into one their labs and stolen a blood sample, and I'm not exactly popular with the Met. If only it had been a City Police lab...
"Would you accept it if I said I got lost?" I asked.
"Let me handle it."

With a swirl of black smoke, the Outsider became visible, crossbow in hand, eyes blazing red. The police officers stared in horror at her. stange form
"The... The Outsider!"
"The Outsider," sheaffirmed. "I'm just investigating a terrible murder. The Girl in Grey is my friend!"
Her red eyes blazed up at the police officers, dangerous, challenging them to confront her.
No-one did. Emily's scary like that. I bolted, leaving her to hold off the police.
She rejoined me in the car minutes later.
"Thanks, Black and Smoky," I smiled at her. I suppose she smiled back, but you never can tell that with Emily.
We sped back across town to see my friend in her expensive penthouse. She's not much richer than I am really, but I like my home more homely. And people in expensive blocks might ask questions if they saw someone like Emily wandering around. In my block there are enough really weird people for her to be connected with THEM rather than with me.
Or that's my idea, anyhow!
Emily remained invisible as we rode up in the lift. I rang the bell and the door opened.
My friend stood there dressed in robe and dark glasses.
"The Girl in Grey!" she laughed. "Alone?"
"No." Emily became visible again in a swirl of smoke.
"Hey! That's neat! How did you do that?"
"Magic," Emily explained.
"It must be! I couldn't see you at all! Even Dr. Reflecto couldn't hide from my eyes. Alice James, also known as the Sparrow. Usually I fight the more interaional and weird criminals."
"Like Dr. Reflecto?" Emily asked.
"I know. Jerk name. But he picked it. Maybe all the good ones were taken. Did you get the sample?"
"I did. It isn't one of your villains, is it?"
"No. All the poisonous ones are out of London. The one I'm chasing right now uses electricity."
"then here it is."
We went inside to examine the sample.

Evolve or Die! 5.

As the light faded over London, I changed into my Girl in Grey costume. There was something evil menacing my city, and I determined to stop it as soon as possible. We had so little to work on, four dead drug addicts (and yes, it IS possible to become addicted to cannabis psychologically, like it's posible to become addicted to shopping), dead in the most horrible manner.
I had one goal in mind, find a sample of the poison and take it to a friend to be analysed. That meant getting into a police forensics lab. Scruff had found me the right one, but that was just the start. Now I had to get in there and get out with the sample. Although cruff could shut down the security systems for me, I'd still have to contend with dogs (the noisy sort) and foot patrols. Emily would have my back, invisible and heavily armed.
I was still VERY nervous. The police probably thought there was a terrorist motive. I didn't know what to think. It seemed odd, though, most terrorists sell drugs to finance their crimes. If they killed off drug users, they'd reduce their own income. Were they that stupid, or was it somethig else? I liked my idea of a super-scientific serial killer. But I would - it was my idea, after all!












The Grey Car, sleek high-tech vehicle, carried us quickly across London to the police lab. I parked a little way from the lab and activated the car's high-voltage security system once we were out.
"We're here," I radioed Scruff.
"Great! I'll shut down the perimeter in your area."
We hurried to the security fence. As promised, everything was shut down. Emily dissolved into smoke and passed through the wire easily. I had to climb it.
"I'm shutting down a pathway for you," Scruff's voice said in my earpiece. "Follow the path on your GPS."
In days goneby crime-fighters got by without all this junk. But then, they didn't have to contend with high-tech security in police labs. Still, high-tech security's so much easier to get around than foot patrols - and much more forgiving.
With Emily watching my back, I moved quickly through the safe corridor Scruff had made for me, to the lab itself, where the blood samples were stored. My friend needed just a small sample - but she still needed one.
The door unlocked in frot of me and I entered the lab. the sample was easy to find and to put in storage on my belt.
"Let's go!" I said.
We ran from the lab - only to find ourselves face-to-face with three armed police officers!

Evolve or Die! 4.

Scruff and I recovered from our experience quite quickly, and I got Scruff doing what she does best - hacking into police files to find out if this was truly the isolated incident we had been assured it was. After all, the police didn't want to cause panic by revealing that unexplained deaths were taking place in London.
Her first stop was MI5, the Security Service, using a very illegal way in. If the girl's death was linked to any known group, MI5 would know.
Scruff spent ten minutes searching MI5. I watched her face. It looked bad.
"Is it Al-quaeda? I asked. She shook her head.
"No, it's worse. MI5 are baffled, like us."
"Ty the Police."
"They know nothing about it either. Sis, this is really, really bad."
"I know. Were there any other smilar deaths?"
"Three, all in London, all drug addicts."
So it was targtted!
"A bad batch of heroin?"
"No, that's the really weird thing. One was addicted to crack cocaine, another to cannabis, and the third to heroin. Those drugs come from different parts of the world, by different routes. Cocaine comes from South Ameica, most heroin comes from Aghanistan, and most cannabis is grown in this country. They're all treated differently too, processed differently. It's hard to believe they could all three be contaminated by mistake."
"It's more than that," I told her. "It's impossible."
"And I remember the old Sherlock Holmes rule - once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the tuth. Sis, you're saying this is deliberate?"
"It has to be."
"Why?"
"The four victims were connected. They have to be."
" They were all drug addicts, that's..." Scruff tailed off. "Sis!"
"Exactly. We're facing a deadly serial killer who targets drug addicts. We have to stop them - before hundreds die."
Yet I was not even sure where to begin.

Evolve or Die! 3.

"You two spent fifteen minutes throwing up after you saw THAT?" Emily sounded amazed. I was rather irritated.
"Unlike you neither of us were trained as assassins by an evil Indian sorcerer," I pointed out, feeling rather annoyed with the little black smoky Outsider. "And it's not just the sight of blood. This girl was bleeding EVERYWHERE. The police doctor said that her whole vascular system disintergrated."
"Nasty. And yes, kind of icky too. Any idea what caused it?"
"None. You don't know any exotic poisons that do that?"
"No," she admitted. "That's bad. I had a three-month course on poisons as part of my training as a supernaturally-powered assassin. This has to be something new. But apart from that horrible death, how did the reception go?"
"It didn't go apart from the horrible death. BECAUSE of that death, the reception was a disaster. I'll be held again to-morrow. In the meantime I'll be looking out for more unusual and horrific deaths."
"Me too," the Outsider agreed. "you think there'll be more?"
"What killed her may have been a virus. But don't tell Scruff that, we were both very close to the body. I'm hoping it isn't."
The 'phone rang. I picked it up.
"Hello, Jane Hill's flat."
"Miss Hill. It's Dr. Steele from Scotland Yard. You'll be glad to hear that the cause of death was NOT a virus or anything infectious."
"You're right, I will. That's a weight off my mind. Any chance of finding out what it was?"
"Yes, it was poison. A chemical reaction inside her body literally dissolved the walls of her blood vessels."
"Thanks for telling me. It's a weight off my mind."
"I hoped it would be. We still don't know how the poison was administered, though of course our first suspicion is a contaminated batch of heroin. We'll keep you informed."
I smiled. If only he knew that he was keeping the notorious Girl in Grey informed of police findings.
"Thank you, Dr. Steele. I'll tell my sister. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Miss Hill."
"What?" Scruff, in a bathrobe, her hair done up in a towel, emerged from the bathroom.
"It wasn't a virus, it was some sort of poison, probably in the last dose of heroin that girl took. You know what that means?"
Yes," Scruff frowned. "Thousands of drug-addicts could die because of it."
It was a depressing and frightening thought.

Evolve or Die! 2.

The girl was very obviously dead. Though I'm popularly supposed to be a rather sheltered rich girl, you readers know better. From the state of the girl's bare forearms I could see she'd been mainlining some sort of drug. But her symptoms, blood flowing freely from her mouth, high body temperature, eyes that were rapidly beoming red orbs as blood vessels inside them burst, they weren't typical of any sort of overdose I'd ever seen.
"I'm gonna throw up," Scruff declared queasily. I let her go.
I saw skilled scientists staring at the dead girl and I worried. If they weren't sure what had killed her, there was no way I could find out.
"Jane!" Dinana looked in horror at the corpse. Blood was starting to well from every pore.
"I think I'm going to join my sister," I said, feeling rather unwell myself.
Scruff was in the ladies being very sick,
"Room for one more?" I asked. She didn't reply.
When both of us had finished throwing up, we sat down in one of the rooms of the museum to recover and wait for the police.
"That's the most horrible way I ever saw someone die," Scruff declared. I nodded.
"Me too. It got worse after you left."
"DON'T tell me the details," she warned. To be fair we weren't the only ones to be sick after seeing what happened to the dead girl. At least ten others, seven of them men, had to use the bathroom in the same way.
"I don't want to. But that wasn't an overdose."
"You're right," a tall grey-haired man sat down with us. "Morgan Steele, New Scotland Yard. I'm a forensic scientist, and I've never seen a case like it. It looks like her entire vascular system just fell apart."
"I need to use the bathroom again, " Scruff left us.
"It sounds awful," I said. "All I saw was someone stagger in and collapse. I ran to help, but she was already dead when I reached her."
"The effects seem to have started inside - that's why blood came from her mouth before it came from her skin. You're Jane Hill, the owner of Hill Industries?"
"Exactly. I was invited here by Diana Dickson - we were at university together. What do you think caused those symptoms?"
"I have no idea. Hopefully the autopsy will help."
I hoped so too - Scruff could get the results of that from the Scotland Yard database.

Evolve or Die! 1.

The Natural History Museum in Kensington is one of London's great tourist attractions. Because of the dinosaurs. I know lots of other things are there, but I also know that people go there because of the dinosaur skeletons. Well, most people do. I was there on a wet day in May because I'd been invited to a reception. Scruff was freeloading as my secretary, though her jeans and sweater were decidedly out of place in a room full of well-dressed men and women. I think they'd have turned her away at the door if someone had remembered to set a dress code for the event. They hadn't, which was all to our advantage. Of course I dressed as a wealthy young lady is expected to.
I have an architect friend who says tht the Natural History Museum is a disaster, a sort of Lombardic-Romanesque-Gothic concoction by Alfred Waterhouse, an architect whose other great London buildings, the Prudential building in Holborn and the Kings Weigh House chapel in Mayfair, are further evidence of the horrors of his style. I rather like them, but my friend's sensitive. One complaint that can be made about the Natural History Museum is that it's a real headache to floodlight because of the colour of the place.
But that day I was just glad of the great cast-iron roof above us keeping the rain out.

"You think the Deacons would approve of us being here?" Scruff asked mischeviously.
"Probably not, but we're not promoting evolution or anything, are we?" I laughed.
"I guess not," Scruff agreed. "Why can't I have champagne?"
"I don't want you falling over drunk."
"Okay. Is it really like that?"
"Especially since you've never had it before."
"So why are we here?"
"Diana Dickson, an old university friend of mine, invited me. And now I can't see her."
"Jane!"
I whirled. There behind me was Diana Dickson, well-dressed - which is why I hadn't spotted her, she's usually almost as untidy as Scruff. She's an ecologist and usually spends her time in far-flung parts of the globe.
"Diana! I was looking for your hat!"
"I was told not to wear it today. Well, you're still the same Jane. And Scruff! What do you do now, Scruff?"
"I'm Jane's secretary."
"Nice work if you can get it! Listen..."
Suddenly someone at the door screamed. I dashed over to find a young woman, apparently a homeless drug-addict, slumped on the floor. Blood flowed from her mouth and she was rather obviously dead.

Revenge of the Adventurer! Epilogue.

We returned to Barton and the house. He smiled as we arrived.
"The Girl in Grey and her brave sidekick. Tell me, is there any reason you wear that Robin costume?"
"I wore it to a fancy-dress party once and liked it," Scruff replied.
"Galliard's gone," I said. "Over a cliff. There's no way he could have survived."
"It was horrible," Barton agreed. "He'd lost his mind. As you said, he let his hatred for me destroy him. I never hated him. I tried to encourage him. I wanted to help him make a success of his film."
"You can make a success of that film for yourself," I told him. "Now Galliard's gone someone else will buy the studios and the rights to the character..."
"Someone like you?" he smiled. "I wish we could have done something for Galliard. The poor man didn't deserve this."
"Yet he brought it upon himself," I pointed out. "Have you called the police?"
"No. I watch enough of the news to know that the police aren't very keen on you."
"I know. Funny, isn't it? I'm their ally, but they won't admit it."
"Well, you came to the right man for sympathy. I take it you are Miss Jane, as the girl in the Robin costume is undoubtedly Scruff. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."
"Thanks. We have to get back to town. Call the police..."
We left Barton. The police arrived and began to search for Galliard. They found his broken body later. He had died on impact.

With Galliard dead, it was relatively easy for me to buy the character of The Adventurer from his bankrupted company. I gave the rights back to Barton, who was very grateful for them. After all, it's not every day a mysterious multi-millionairess does something like that for a writer.
The new 'Adventurer' novel almost wrote itself after what we'd been through. And Barton found those two characters he'd been looking for to help Richard Coventry in his quest for the man who killed Lana. The first of them was a scruffy teenaged girl who was a whizz with computers, the second a mysterious girl adventurer who donned a grey cat-costume to fight crime. The first character was called Scruff, of course, the second just went by the name of the Grey Kitten.
Well, I'm still persona non grata to the authorities in London, so he couldn't call her the Girl in Grey.

The novel sold like hot cakes on a cold day, and guess what - I'm backing the movie version!

THE END
of 'Revenge of the Adventurer'

But the Girl in Grey will return
In the startling mystery entitled:
'Evolve or Die!'

Revenge of the Adventurer! 27.

Hampered by my injured arm, I ran from the house after Scruff. She pulled a torch from her belt as she ran.
"You'll never catch me!" Galliard called from ahead of us. "Never! No-one can catch me!"
"Careful!" I warned Scruff. "He's mad!"
"You think so?" she joked back. "Sis, I heard him!"
"No-one's going to catch me!" I heard Galliard cry. "No-one! Not ever!"
I'm fast, and I ran after him. Suddenly I heard a shot. Galliard had another gun!
"Watch out!" I warned. "He's armed!"
"I heard him! He's going to kill someone if he's not careful!"
Guided by my torch, we ran through the dark woodland, following the disturbing sound of Galliard's laughter. I might have let him go, but he was armed and dangerous - a homicidal maniac. I hoped Barton had called the police - Surrey police are more understanding where I'm concerned, since they don't have the experience of cases where I've had to go rather a long way beyond what concerned citizens usually do. Well, not so much as the London police do, anyhow.
"Galliard!" I yelled, "be careful! You'll kill yourself!"
"No!" he cried back. "I can't die! I can't! I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you!"
We broke from the woodland to find ourselves in a clearing on the edge of a cliff. Far below a river ran. Ahead of us, facing us, his clothes torn, his eyes wild, was Galliard, a small pistol in his right hand.
"I'm going to kill you," he laughed. Scruff stared at him. She'd never faced an insane enemy before, I remembered. I hoped she wouldn't try anything stupid.
"You thought you could stop me," Galliard laughed. "No-one can stop me! I'm going to destroy John Barton and everything he ever stood for! I'll kill you. Then I'll kill him! I'll kill all of you! And everyone will think I'm a hero. I'll tell them you were all evil, that you tried to kill me. And they'll believe me. They've GOT to believe me! They have to believe me!"
As he ranted, he did not notice my left hand move behind me, to a pouch on my belt. It was designed to open easily, and it did. I took hold of something in the pouch and slowly drew it out.
"Which one shall I kill first?" Galliard mused. "Will it be the little one in the red jacket, or the one in grey? I'll kill you! I'll..."
"No!"
I threw the magnesium flare, covering my eyes as I did so. I saw the blinding flas through my eyelids, and Galliard screamed.
"Down!" I cried to Scruff. We both hit the ground as Galliard staggered, disorientated, blinded.
"My eyes!" he screamed, waving his gun in the air. "My eyes!" He staggered back, and I realised too late the danger he was in.
"No! move forward!" I yelled.
"No! I won't do what you say! I'll jump back!"
No!"
But it was too late. I jumped to my feet, but Galliard jumped backwards, and with a yell of terror he was gone. Over the cliff.

Revenge of the Adventurer! 26.

The bullet missed the bone, but it still hurt. And now I was unarmed and injured. Galliard laughed dementedly.
"I've won!" he cackled. "I've won! I'll kill both of you and I'll be a hero! Then I can do what I want!"
"Are you trying to provide evidence for an insanity plea?" Barton asked calmly as I tried to staunch the bleeding from my arm.
"They'll say YOU were insane! I'll say you killed her! That you were an insane killer! And everyone will believe me! They have to! They must!"
He was ranting now. My appearance must have triggered off a sudden mental collapse in his already unstable mind. While it made him dangerous, it might possibly give me an opening. I was glad I'd brought Emily and Scruff along.
"It was a brilliant plan," I said.
"Of course it was! I'm a genius! I bought Mr. Barton's character from him, engineered his confrontation with Stock. I planned it all! And until your friends stopped me killing my leads, I was fine! Everything was working, but you ruined it. Oh, but you'll fail. You'll all fail! I'll kill both of you! Kill both of you and be a hero!"
"You'll still be a nutcase."

Galliard whirled to face Scruff, in full Robin costume, armed with a garden rake. He stared at her.
"Who...?"
"The girl who's going to beat you," she answered. I saw my chance and, wounded as I was, I tore the pistol from Galliard's hand.
"Thanks, Grey," Scruff smiled. "Still brave without your gun?"
Still completely insane, I thought as Galliard threw himself at my sister.
Scruff's a great kid, and pretty good in a scrap. She used the rake as a fighting-pole, throwing Galliard back. He grabbed the poker and threw himself at her again.
"You've spoiled everything! he shouted madly. "You've ruined my plan! I was going to kill Barton! I was going to be a hero!"
"You were never going to be anything other than a madman," I replied.
Scruff was trained to fight in her school. They're tough places, boarding schools. I just gave her a few hints on how to fight baddies.
She used the furniture to her advantage, boucing on chairs and sofas, using tables and the mantlepiece as high ground. Galliard swang viciously with his poker, but Scruff evaded it. Finally she caught it with the prongs of the rake and tore it from Galliard's grasp.
"Sorry, Mr. Galliard, you've lost," she said.
"No! I can't have! I planned so well..."
He bolted. Scruff and I ran after him.
"Your arm..." Scruff said.
"I've been shot before."
Galliard ran out, into the night. He was making weird, inhuman noises. He was completely insane. We had to stop him.

Revenge of the Adventurer! 25.

"Galliard!" Barton exclaimed, "Is that a gun?"
"Yes. I bought it from a man in London who ships these things in. So useful for MURDER. You see, someone calling himself 'The Adventurer' has been stalking me, threatening me. He killed my script-writer and tried to kill my leading actors. Imagine the reaction when they find that it was you. That YOU were driven mad by what I did to your beloved character, so that you thought you were him and you tried to kill to keep him from being betrayed by my film. I invited you here to talk, but you came here to kill me. We fought, and your gun went off in the struggle, killing you. And then, of course, out of respect for you, I'll cancel the film. So sad, a successful author driven mad..."
"Save the speeches for the judge. Or in your case the prison psychiatrist," I said, throwng open the door.
"The Girl in Grey!" Galliard exclaimed. "I..."
"You slipped up. You see, your hired monkeys at the barge paid a whole lot more attention to me than they did to you. If they'd gone to the barge to kill you, they could have dumped me over the side and finished the job. Instead they paid a whole lot of attention to me and went no-where near you. Conclusion, they were looking for me, not you. Just one of the cluse you left that I followed right back to you.
"You're a successful film-maker, Galliard, yet the script for the film was apalling. Horrible. Beyond a joke. You must have known the film wouldn't sell, yet you were going to make it. Why? There was only one reason. Your pathalogical hatred for John Barton and everything he stands for. This was an elaborate plan to destroy him from the very beginning, not a film! You're obsessed with destroyng him! You saw him succeed in the 1960s and '70s, and your lack of success made you jealous. You let that jealousy eat you up from the inside, twist you and warp you and send you insane!" I had my whip held ready. "Drop that gun, Galliard."
"No! I will destroy John Barton!"

"With me as a witness? With the police already on their way?"
"I've won! You can't take that away from me!" Galliard protested.
"No, Galliard, you've lost," I told him sternly and bluntly. "You've destroyed yourself. You could make films, and you made them quite well, but you allowed this hatred to destroy you. Your vey obsession with John Barton ensures that, in the end, HE has won!"
"I can still kill him!" Galliard whirled on his heel, gun in hand. "I can kill you!"
I didn't have time to use me whip to disarm him. He fired, and I dodged too late. The bullet struck me in the right arm. I dropped my whip.
"You're too late!" Galliard crowed in mad triumph.

Revenge of the Adventurer! 24.

I was extremely glad of my grey Jaguar's powerful engine. True, a friend of mine souped it up a bit, but it was a good engine to begin with. I positively burned rubber all the way back to London. There we changed into action wear, and took out my Grey Car, the fastest thing on the road. There isn't a car in existence that can out-pace that! I'd tried to get Barton on my 'phone, but he was out, and I didn't have his mobile number (this was because he didn't have a mobile, as I discovered later).
That meant I had to get to Surrey fast. Scruff sat next to me, and in the back Emily was cleaning her crossbow again. I don't know how she can tell if it's clean or not (it looking black and smoky like the rest of her), but she can.
Galliard's country house was a retreat he used at times, not a full-time home. One of the Modernist houses built in Surrey, it's not really to my taste. Glass boxes. Plenty of windows to see me coming.
But lots of trees in the grounds to hide me as I moved.
It was getting dark when we arrived. I parked the Grey Car out of sight and turned to Emily.
"Careful. We don't want to alert Galliard."
I hoped that Galliard would be planning to kill Barton later rather than sooner. If not, all my insistence on stealth could be very, very counterproductive.
We moved silently through the trees. Emily was invisible, Scruff and I used our costumes to blend into the darkness of the wooded grounds of the house.
Barton's car was there, standing in the drive, close to the collection of glass boxes that were the house. Inside the house was lit up. That gave me an advantage, because it would make it more difficult for anyone inside the house to see what was going on outside.
I could see two men in the drawing-room of the house. They seemed to be talking quietly, and that encouraged me. I wasn't too late.
We moved fast, up to the front door of the house. Galliard thought I was dead, and that meant he wasn't going to be expecting me to turn up and foil his plan. I like things like that. Not that it isn't fun to get past all the traps set by a baddie who knows you're coming, but it's a whole lot easier when they don't.
The door was locked, but it took me three seconds to open it. I stepped into the hall of the mansion and padded silently over the carpet to the drawing-room door.
"Mr. Galliard," Barton was saying. "I implore you to stop this film. It's a travesty, and from what's leaked out about the script, it's going to flop at the box office. I'd be more than happy to help save the picture..."
"No." Galliard said firmly.
"Don't be a fool, man! You've got a reputation! If you release this film, you'll ruin it!"
"But I won't release the film. I WAS going to announce that after the deaths of my lead actors last night, but the Girl in Grey and her friends interfered. Still, it proved she's in the dark about my plans..."
"Great Scott, Galliard! You mean...?"
"Yes, I killed that idiot of a script-writer. He kept objecting to my revisions of the script. And now I'm going to kill you..."
It was then that I realised Galliard had lost his mind.