Smile And Say Murder [On Hold]

C h a p t e r T w o

How are you all? Hope you enjoy this chapter :)
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Blue re-read the chilling note. "Pretty gruesome stuff," she said. No wonder Yvonne was so upset.

She turned her attention to the second letter. Immediately she recognised the words from a top-ten old pop song the deejays had been playing practically every two minutes for the past few months.

So, you think the evening's pretty.
Hey, but you don't know this city,
There's always someone hiding in the night;
Looking for a victim or a fight,
Hiding round the corner out of sight.

And that guy will getcha,
He'll getcha, He'll getcha,
Don't you know he'll getcha . . . soon?

A letter was attached to the lyrics.

Yvonne,
You've made a bad choice, one you're going to regret. Tell the people you've been doing business with, that you won't sell — or else pay the consequences!
Your Mystery Friend,
The Grim Reaper

Blue took another careful look at the two letters. From the perforations on the side of the paper, she could tell they'd been written on a computer. She made a mental note to check some of the printers at Flash were identical and the letters had been written on one of them, it would be impossible to trace them to one particular machine or another. The notes could also have been written on anybody's home computer. There was a good chance that checking the type would lead no where.

"Now do you see why I think Brian is serious about these threats?" Yvonne said earnestly, her dark eyes catching Blue's blue ones urgently. I mean, you have to be pretty crazy just to think up stuff that sick. I need help, Blue, and I hope you are the person to give it to me," Suddenly, Yvonne looked very tired.

Blue smiled supportively. Obviously, Yvonne was in a terrible situation. Blue handed the letters back. "I'd like to get these copied," she said.

As she dropped the envelopes onto the desk, she knocked a thin paperback novel to the floor. Leaning down to pick it up, she recognised the title. It was a recent detective novel Blue herself had enjoyed reading. "Hey," she said,"this is a great book. Are you a mystery fan, too?"

"Oh, that," Yvonne said with disdain. "Someone gave it to me the other day, but I can't stand detective stories. They're so predictable!"

It was an innocent enough comment, but Blue picked up a valuable clue from it. She realised that Yvonne liked to make herself seem more mature; more sophisticated, and more intelligent than the people she was around. She was a woman who liked to have the upper hand in her relationships.

Yvonne returned the letters to her desk drawer. "Well, how about it, Blue?" she asked. "Will you take the case?"

Blue paused for a moment, thinking. "If I do," she said at last, "I'll need a cov—"

"Of course, you'll need a cover," the publisher broke in. "And I've thought of the prefect one. I'll set you up as an intern. We always need an extra hand around here."

"That might work," Blue said.

"Sure it will. Do you know anything about photography and camera equipment?"