3.45 am 24 January 2015
I told Seb I’d sort of borrowed bits of Shereece when we fleshed out the character of Paperwhite the ghost, but I never told anyone else she was part of the inspiration.
Robin looked at the next tweet.
Anomie
@AnomieGamemaster
Interesting news, game fans. #GreedieFedwell might despise OUR game, but turns out she’s expert at another kind #OnTheGame
Max R @mreger#5
Not proud of it, but I paid @EdLedDraws for a blow job back in 2002
4.21 pm 13 April 2012
This, Edie had written, is one of his favourite ploys. He gets other haters he’s friendly with to do his dirty work for him, making up claims he can retweet, so he can’t be reported for coming up with the bullshit himself.
Robin turned another page.
Anomie
@AnomieGamemaster
Hearing Edie Ledwell has ‘attempted suicide’. No comment from agent
Anyone got more info?
10.59 pm 24 May 2014
Anomie
@AnomieGamemaster
Source tells me she’s in Kensington Hospital. Alleged overdose
11.26 pm 24 May 2014
Beneath this, Edie had written: Anomie knew this had happened within hours. I thought Josh was the only person who knew.
Anomie
@AnomieGamemaster
Hmmmmm . .…
Johnny B @jbaldw1n1>>
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
well, that’s strange, because my sister works at that hospital and saw her walking in unaided and laughing
12.16 pm 24 May 2014
Bullshit. I didn’t walk into the hospital. I can’t remember anything about getting there, I was unconscious. This Johnny guy is another one of his little helper elves, feeding him lies.
Anomie
@AnomieGamemaster
?
Sally Anne Jones @SAJ345_>
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
Not being funny but that hospital does a lot of cosmetic procedures. Seems like there would have been a statement if she’d overdosed?
1.09 pm 24 May 2014
This Sally Anne is a sock-puppet account, created the same evening and never tweeted again. They’ve been saying I had a nose job ever since.
Beneath this were a few responses to the news of Ledwell’s attempted suicide.
Max R @mreger#5
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
I call bullshit. She’s gone to get her massive fkn nose done #Nosegate
Lepines Disciple @LepinesD1sciple
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
Anyone live close to hospital? Should be easy to photograph her coming out #Nosegate
Algernon Gizzard Esq @Gizzard_Al
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
death by botched nose job would be fkn hysterical
DrekIsMySpiritAnimal @playDreksgame
replying to @Gizzard_Al @LepinesD1sciple
@AnomieGamemaster
Zozo @inkyheart28
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
Stop luaghing at this . what if its real .
Laura May @May_Flower*
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
if she’s genuinely tried to kill herself what you’re doing is not ok
Andi Reddy @ydderidna
replying to @May_Flower* @AnomieGamemaster
there would’ve been a statement if she’d really done it #trollingforsympathy
Robin checked her watch: it was time to leave if she wanted to see the Acton flat. Closing the folder, she carried it back outside with her empty mug. Midge was sitting on the sofa, busy adding her notes to the Groomer file.
‘Got any plans for this evening?’ asked Pat as Robin took down her coat from the peg beside the door.
‘Viewing a flat in Acton,’ said Robin. ‘I hope to God it’s better than the last place I saw. There was mould all over the bathroom ceiling and the basin was coming away from the wall. The estate agent said it was a “fixer-upper”.’
‘London fookin’ property,’ mumbled Midge without looking up. ‘I’m living in a virtual fookin’ eggbox.’
Robin bade the other two women goodbye, then left. It was chilly down on Denmark Street. As she walked towards the Tube station, she found herself scanning passers-by for Edie Ledwell, who might by now have noticed that she’d left her folder behind, but there was no sign of her.
It was nearly rush hour. Something she couldn’t put her finger on was nagging at Robin. She’d reached the top of the escalator before she realised it had nothing to do with Edie Ledwell or her cartoon.
Strike wasn’t scheduled to work this evening, so where exactly was he spending the night that made it more convenient for him to stake out Fingers’ flat in Sloane Square the following morning, rather than Legs’ school in Camden?
8
She was a careless, fearless girl…
Kindhearted in the main,
But somewhat heedless with her tongue,
And apt at causing pain.
The entrance to Nightjar, the speakeasy bar to which Strike was headed that evening, wasn’t easy to find. He initially walked straight past the discreet wooden door on City Road and had to double back. On ringing the bell and giving his name he was admitted and proceeded downstairs into a dimly lit basement bar of dark wood and exposed brick.
This would be Strike’s sixth date with Madeline Courson-Miles. Each of their previous evenings together had started in a different bar or restaurant picked by Madeline, and ended in her mews house in Pimlico, which she shared with a son, Henry, to whom she’d given birth at nineteen. Henry’s father, whom Madeline hadn’t married, had also been nineteen when Madeline fell pregnant. He’d gone on to become a successful interior designer, and Strike was impressed by how amicable their relationship seemed to be.
Since splitting from Henry’s father, Madeline had wed and divorced an actor who’d left her for the leading lady in his first-ever film. Strike was certainly a very different proposition from the arty men Madeline had previously dated but, fortunately for the detective, she seemed to be enjoying the contrast. As for sixteen-year-old Henry, he was monosyllabic and barely polite to Strike whenever they came into contact at Madeline’s house. Strike didn’t take it personally. He could remember his own feelings towards the men his mother had brought home.
The detective was perfectly happy to let his new girlfriend choose the places they went on dates; because work had dominated his life for so long, he had very little knowledge of London’s best nightspots. A couple of his exes, including his sometime fiancée Charlotte, had been perennially dissatisfied with the kind of places he could afford to take them, but these days he had enough money not to have to worry about bar or restaurant bills. If he had one quibble, it was that Madeline sometimes seemed to forget that a man of his size needed more than bar snacks at the end of a long day’s work, and he’d taken the precaution of having a Big Mac and large fries before heading to Nightjar, which she’d promised offered good drink and live music.