Mr. Nasty by Leo Darke

Author:Leo Darke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror;VHS;video nasties;Richard Laymon;horror movies;slasher
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2015-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Part Two

And… Action!

Chapter Twelve

Slade and Whitley arrived at the production base by four the next afternoon, ready for the night shoot. The Bentley roared up the bumpy access track and lurched to a halt on the grass car park in front of the unit trailers. Slade switched off the engine, killing the loud music (Whips and Furs, the Vibrators)much to Whitley’s relief. And DC Nandu’s too, who also occupied the car.

Slade scowled at them. “Whassup? We can sit right here and listen to a few more tracks if you like?”

Whitley and Nandu proved how much they liked that idea by the speed with which they jumped out of the Bentley.

Slade followed them, trudging towards the production office trailer. Helen greeted them politely.

“I’ve got constables patrolling the perimeter fences, and more guarding the entrance, just like yesterday,” he told her redundantly. She already had her production security personnel on the job liaising with the police force. She nodded. He couldn’t help noticing the top buttons on her blouse were undone and part of her cleavage was showing, as he continued. “As this trailer has the only outside line on the site I’ll need to stay on the spot, but DC Nandu will be glad to give you any advice or help you or your TV bods might need out on location.” Nandu smiled sympathetically at the 2nd AD.

“I’m sorry about the lack of a signal, Detective Inspector Slade,” Helen replied smoothly, ignoring the crawl of his eyes. “It doesn’t make any of our jobs easier. Though we do have HT, which serves most of our needs. But I’m sure you must have your own,” she added pointedly.

“Of course. But I need to be contactable from outside at all times.” He smiled broadly at her. “Ooh, and while you’re here…” he added, settling himself in Helen’s swivel chair, “Any chance of a coffee? White, one sugar?” She stared at him for several seconds without answering. Whitley rolled his eyes at Nandu.

Whitley sat at a smaller porta-desk against one wall of the trailer, poring over Helen’s laptop. The Handheld Transceiver next to his coffee cup burbled and crackled every now and then. Slade spent most of the next hour on the landline, checking on other productions in the area. There were a few: a supermarket sitcom in Bristol; a crime serial set in Clevedon; a children’s Sci Fi in Bridgend, South Wales,—out of Slade’s area strictly speaking, but as he’d told DI Hughes, he was now in charge of the whole case wherever it took him; a period drama in Wells dealing with witch burnings; a sword and sandals prime time show for Saturday nights, and the continued antics of Hospital in Cardiff (Professor What was still on hold). Slade was particularly interested in the Wells drama (burnings) and was in half a mind to visit, but the combined presence of Hamm and Wallace on this particular set compelled him to stay for the time being. He would make regular telephone checks on his officers looking after the period drama though.

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