The Doll's House

83

Emilia Garanita cast her eye over yesterday’s front page again. She had been allowed so few headlines recently – she was sure the editor was punishing her for her disloyalty – that she allowed herself to wallow in this one. It was a good cover with a great photo – the fluttering police cordon and then not one, but two crime scenes beyond it in the near and middle distance. It captured the magnitude of the crime perfectly, the bleakness of the beach and the loneliness of the graves serving to underline the fact that once more Hampshire Police were hunting a serial killer. Emilia had felt that old excitement when writing the copy – finally a major story to sink her teeth into.

Emilia lowered the paper to find Helen Grace walking towards her. It was a moment of pure serendipity that momentarily struck her dumb: Southampton Central’s hunter-in-chief striding towards her, fresh from the investigation. In the past, Emilia would have greeted her with sarcasm and snide innuendo, but not now. She ushered Helen into the vacant editor’s office, shutting the door behind her.

‘I need your help.’

As usual, her former adversary cut to the chase. Despite their difficult past, Emilia was the first to admit that she and Helen Grace shared some attributes. Women working in male-dominated industries, they both possessed a directness and courage that others of their sex lacked.

‘Happy to do whatever I can,’ Emilia replied breezily.

‘We need to better understand the significance of a tattoo that is present on all three victims.’

‘The bluebird tattoo,’ Emilia responded.

‘Exactly. We haven’t been able to link it to any previous victims or offenders. So it could be a dead end. It may even be a ruse, designed to throw us off the scent.’

Emilia nodded sagely, swallowing a smile. Helen Grace had never been this open with her before about an ongoing investigation. Was she worried this time? Stumped? Or was this the start of a rapprochement in their relationship?

‘Or,’ Helen continued, ‘it may be significant. If it is, then odds on there is someone out there who knows what it means. Who saw it on a friend or colleague or family member. I know it’s a long shot, but presuming the killer lives locally, we were hoping the Evening News might go big on this. Capture the attention of the public -’

‘And rattle the killer too?’

‘Perhaps.’

So much and no more. Emilia was enjoying being back in the game.

‘I’ll talk to my editor but I know he’ll be happy to help. This is a big public-interest story.’

And a juicy one too, Emilia thought, but didn’t say.

Helen left shortly afterwards, the rough approach having been agreed between them. Emilia knew that usually this would be a job for media liaison, but Helen had come to her personally. Had her past vendetta against Helen been erased from her rap sheet? Emilia felt the old excitement returning. This could play well for her at the paper – and, who knows, perhaps beyond – so as Emilia sat at her desk, next leader article already half written, she made a silent vow to ride this story as hard as she could.