Free Star Struck by Val McDermid Page A

fear of her life. I wasn’t asking out of nosiness,” he added quickly. “I just wondered how long you were going to be tied up working for Gloria.”
    “Why? Are you missing me already?”
    He went that strange damson-purple that redheads go when they blush. “Actually, I wanted to hire you.”
    “Hire me?” Suddenly this was a lot more interesting than a mild flirtation to keep the cold out. “What for?”
    “I don’t know if you know, but
Northerners
has got a mole. Somebody’s been leaking stuff to the press. Not just the usual sordid stuff about people’s love lives and creepy things they did twenty years ago, but storylines as well.” All the humor had left him now.
    “I’d heard. John Turpin’s supposed to be finding out where the leak is.”
    “Yeah, well, Turpin’s trying to pin it on me or my staff,” Ross said bluntly.
    “Why would he do that?”
    He inhaled sharply. “Because we’re convenient scapegoats. Our contract’s up for renewal at the end of January, and Turpin seems to be determined to ditch me. Knowing that slimy bastard, he’s probably in bed with one of the other firms tendering for the contract and he figures if he can blame me for the leaks he can feather his own nest easier.”
    “But why would anybody believe him?” I asked.
    Ross flicked his cigarette end on to a frozen puddle where it
    “So how are you supposed to come by the advance storylines?” I objected.
    “We’re involved in location filming for the show nearly every week. With them filming four weeks ahead of transmission, it’s not hard to pick up the direction the stories are heading. The cast are always standing round the food wagon shooting their mouths off about storylines they don’t like, or taking the piss out of each other about what their characters are up to. If me or my lassies had a mind to, we could be moles. It would be dead simple. But we’re not.”
    “How can you be sure?”
    “Well, I know it’s not me. And I know it’s not my wife.” He gestured towards the open side of the van with his thumb. “She’s the one with the red sweatshirt on. And I’d put money on it not being Mary, the other lassie, because she owns twenty percent of the business and she’s never been a woman who went for the short-term benefit.”
    I sighed. “I sympathize. But it’s always impossible to prove a negative.”
    “I know that,” he said. “That’s not what I want to hire you for. I want you to find out who the real mole is and get me off the hook.”
    I shook my head. It nearly killed me, turning business down. “I’m already fully occupied taking care of Gloria. You’d be better off going to another firm.” I gritted my teeth. “I could probably recommend somebody.”
    He shook his handsome head. “There would be no point. Turpin would never let them on to the location shoots, never mind inside the compound. I’m amazed Gloria’s got away with having you on set. That’s why you’re the only one who can help me. I’ll pay the going rate, I don’t expect anything less.”
    I finished my coffee and tossed the cup in the nearby bin. “No can do,” I said. “I can’t take money under false pretenses. I’d be lying if I said I could investigate the leaks at the same time as taking care of Gloria.”
    He looked as if he was going to burst into tears. His big shoulders slumped and his mouth turned down at the corners. I glanced back to the serving hatch in the side of the van and caught a murderous look from his wife. “Look,” I sighed. “I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, maybe make a couple of phone calls. If I come up with anything, you can pay me on results. How does that grab you?”
    Laughing boy was back. He grinned and clapped a beefy arm round my shoulders. I thought my lungs had collapsed. “That’s terrific. Fabulous. Thanks, I really appreciate it.” He leaned over and smacked a sloppy kiss on my cheek.
    “Ross?” his wife called sharply.