pretty,’ Maria countered. ‘Especially the Brits. Some of them are downright plain and homely.’
‘They’ve all got crooked teeth,’ Kelly chimed in.
‘Okay, so her teeth are a bit crooked,’ Arvo said. ‘So what? So are mine. Does it mean you can’t be pretty if you’ve got crooked teeth?’
‘You think you’re pretty, Arvo?’ Maria asked with a mischievous smile.
‘That’s not what I said. You’re misinterpreting me. What I said was—’
‘I know what you said. So you think she’s pretty?’
‘Sure she’s pretty, in a cool sort of way.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘You know, she’s blonde, pale complexion, has that accent.’
‘You think she’s frigid, is that it?’
‘No, I didn’t say that. Look—’
‘So she’s sexy as well as pretty?’
‘I guess so.’
‘Guess so? Come on, Arvo, you can do better than that.’
‘Okay. Yeah. She’s sexy. All right?’
‘How sexy?’
‘Just sexy.’
‘No need to blush.’
‘I’m not blushing.’
‘Yes you are,’ yelled Kelly.
‘What about her personality?’ Maria asked.
‘General impressions?’
‘Well you hardly know her intimately. Or do you?’
‘She’s an actress. You know actresses. She was partly in character. The cop she plays.’
‘Anita O’Rourke,’ Kelly chipped in again.
‘That’s the one.’
‘So,’ Maria went on, ‘you’re saying you didn’t get a real good sense of her?’
‘She’s very reserved.’
‘Sounds like a typical Brit.’
‘I guess so,’ he said. ‘But I think she’s scared, too.’
‘Maybe she’s got good reason to be. What’s your sense of the guy who’s writing the letters?’
Arvo thought for a moment, recalling the letter he had been studying earlier. ‘He sees himself as her long-lost lover, now become her saviour, her rescuer, her knight in shining armour.’
‘Rescuer from what?’
‘From the evils of Hollywood. From Them .’
‘The usual semi-literate diatribe?’
‘Not really. This guy seems reasonably well educated. Not that that means a lot, I know. Bizarre forms of spelling and grammar hardly represent a greater threat than correct grammar – except to literacy. There are some unusual capitalizations – nouns like “Machines,” “Power” and “Crazy.”’
‘Germans capitalize their nouns, don’t they?’ said Maria.
‘Uh-huh. But this seems more like some sort of mental tic. It makes the concepts sound Big, and it goes with his gushing, flowery prose style.’
‘What about the handwriting?’ Kelly Norris asked. She had left her own hutch and was now standing beside Maria, interested, hand resting lightly on the divider. A tall, big-boned woman with a mass of curly grey hair and spots of colour high on her cheeks, Kelly had been the first woman on the team. She was wearing threadbare black cords and a baggy white cardigan over a red blouse. Kelly always did dress casually.
‘It was done on a laser printer,’ said Arvo. ‘That means he either owns a computer set-up or he works in a place where he can get access to one.’
‘Where did he send the letters?’ Maria asked.
‘Home address. She thought she kept it a pretty closely guarded secret.’
Kelly and Maria laughed. ‘Her and everyone else.’
‘Yeah. Well, maybe we can do a bit of checking around with the agencies and private detectives who sell that sort of information. See if anyone’s bought Sarah Broughton’s address recently.’
‘Good luck,’ said Maria. ‘In my experience, those guys give you dick.’
‘True enough. Still worth a shot.’
‘Any occult stuff?’ Kelly asked.
‘No,’ said Arvo. Often, the writers insisted that the victim should be initiated as a Dawn Goddess of the Order of the Golden Monkey Foreskins, or something. Arvo had seen plenty of those, and they always gave him the same feeling: somewhere between the creeps and the desire to laugh out loud.
‘Apart from the romantic stuff,’ he went on, ‘there are a few disturbing
‘They’ve all got crooked teeth,’ Kelly chimed in.
‘Okay, so her teeth are a bit crooked,’ Arvo said. ‘So what? So are mine. Does it mean you can’t be pretty if you’ve got crooked teeth?’
‘You think you’re pretty, Arvo?’ Maria asked with a mischievous smile.
‘That’s not what I said. You’re misinterpreting me. What I said was—’
‘I know what you said. So you think she’s pretty?’
‘Sure she’s pretty, in a cool sort of way.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘You know, she’s blonde, pale complexion, has that accent.’
‘You think she’s frigid, is that it?’
‘No, I didn’t say that. Look—’
‘So she’s sexy as well as pretty?’
‘I guess so.’
‘Guess so? Come on, Arvo, you can do better than that.’
‘Okay. Yeah. She’s sexy. All right?’
‘How sexy?’
‘Just sexy.’
‘No need to blush.’
‘I’m not blushing.’
‘Yes you are,’ yelled Kelly.
‘What about her personality?’ Maria asked.
‘General impressions?’
‘Well you hardly know her intimately. Or do you?’
‘She’s an actress. You know actresses. She was partly in character. The cop she plays.’
‘Anita O’Rourke,’ Kelly chipped in again.
‘That’s the one.’
‘So,’ Maria went on, ‘you’re saying you didn’t get a real good sense of her?’
‘She’s very reserved.’
‘Sounds like a typical Brit.’
‘I guess so,’ he said. ‘But I think she’s scared, too.’
‘Maybe she’s got good reason to be. What’s your sense of the guy who’s writing the letters?’
Arvo thought for a moment, recalling the letter he had been studying earlier. ‘He sees himself as her long-lost lover, now become her saviour, her rescuer, her knight in shining armour.’
‘Rescuer from what?’
‘From the evils of Hollywood. From Them .’
‘The usual semi-literate diatribe?’
‘Not really. This guy seems reasonably well educated. Not that that means a lot, I know. Bizarre forms of spelling and grammar hardly represent a greater threat than correct grammar – except to literacy. There are some unusual capitalizations – nouns like “Machines,” “Power” and “Crazy.”’
‘Germans capitalize their nouns, don’t they?’ said Maria.
‘Uh-huh. But this seems more like some sort of mental tic. It makes the concepts sound Big, and it goes with his gushing, flowery prose style.’
‘What about the handwriting?’ Kelly Norris asked. She had left her own hutch and was now standing beside Maria, interested, hand resting lightly on the divider. A tall, big-boned woman with a mass of curly grey hair and spots of colour high on her cheeks, Kelly had been the first woman on the team. She was wearing threadbare black cords and a baggy white cardigan over a red blouse. Kelly always did dress casually.
‘It was done on a laser printer,’ said Arvo. ‘That means he either owns a computer set-up or he works in a place where he can get access to one.’
‘Where did he send the letters?’ Maria asked.
‘Home address. She thought she kept it a pretty closely guarded secret.’
Kelly and Maria laughed. ‘Her and everyone else.’
‘Yeah. Well, maybe we can do a bit of checking around with the agencies and private detectives who sell that sort of information. See if anyone’s bought Sarah Broughton’s address recently.’
‘Good luck,’ said Maria. ‘In my experience, those guys give you dick.’
‘True enough. Still worth a shot.’
‘Any occult stuff?’ Kelly asked.
‘No,’ said Arvo. Often, the writers insisted that the victim should be initiated as a Dawn Goddess of the Order of the Golden Monkey Foreskins, or something. Arvo had seen plenty of those, and they always gave him the same feeling: somewhere between the creeps and the desire to laugh out loud.
‘Apart from the romantic stuff,’ he went on, ‘there are a few disturbing
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