his film-making that Welles had, before the studio system destroyed him,’ said Morrison. ‘If he can cope with the system, he has a real future in front of him. I believe he has the potential to be another Scorsese.’
‘Or maybe even another Curtiz,’ said Seward quietly.
Morrison stared at Seward, stunned.
‘What?’ he said.
‘Michael Curtiz,’ said Seward. ‘The man who directed
Casablanca, Angels with Dirty Faces, The Adventures of Robin Hood—’
Morrison snapped out of his state of shock.
‘I know who Michael Curtiz is, Sergeant!’ he said, almost angrily. ‘I lecture on film.’
Seward nodded.
‘Of course you do,’ she said. ‘Well, thank you for your time, Mr Morrison. You have been most helpful.’
As the two detectives walked away from Morrison, heading for the car park, Taggart asked: ‘What was all that about this Curtiz character?’
‘Hungarian-born film director,’ said Seward. ‘Worked with all the greats: Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney, John Wayne. He directed the only good film Elvis Presley ever made:
King Creole.
’
Taggart gaped at Seward, open-mouthed.
‘I like films,’ explained Seward. ‘When I see anything good, I want to know who made it so I can watch out for their stuff again.’ She shrugged. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything to him.’
‘Yes, you should,’ said Taggart. ‘He was being a pompous prick. You put him down nicely.’
‘But I did it because I was angry,’ said Seward. ‘I got annoyed because he was treating us like morons, like an inferior species because he thinks we don’t understand the world of arts, as if he and his kind are some sort of superior species to the rest of the world. I just wanted to put himright. It was stupid. It brought me down to his level.’
‘Now who’s being superior?’ said Taggart, grinning.
They entered the reception area and headed for the desk.
‘Right,’ said Taggart, ‘let’s see if we can get an address for this reincarnation of Orson Welles.’
Five to three in the afternoon. At the police station it was time for a pooling of information gathered, if any.
As Georgiou and Tennyson walked past the reception desk on their way to the briefing room, they were stopped by a shout from Sergeant Graham.
‘Inspector!’ he called.
‘What now?’ groaned Georgiou, expecting it to be something to do with the superintendent.
As Georgiou approached the desk, Sergeant Graham held out a copy of the local newspaper to him, with a grin.
‘Late edition of the
News and Star,’
he said jovially. ‘Thought you might like to see what they’re saying about you.’
‘Let me guess,’ hazarded Georgiou. ‘That I’m a wonderful human being.’
Graham laughed.
‘Not exactly,’ he said. ‘They’ve got an interview with Mrs Parks. She seems a bit upset.’
Georgiou shrugged.
‘I’ll get one later,’ he said.
‘Take this one,’ said Graham, thrusting it towards Georgiou. ‘Why waste your money. Let the chief pay for it.’
Georgiou took the paper with a slight grin and went back to where Tennyson was waiting for him.
‘Made the gossip columns?’ asked Tennyson, grinning.
‘Something like that,’ said Georgiou.
‘What’s it say?’
‘Let’s get our priorities right,’ said Georgiou. ‘First let’s see what everyone else has got, then I’ll read my press notices.’
NINE
S eward, Taggart, Conway and Little were all gathered around an open copy of the
News and Star
as Georgiou and Tennyson walked into the briefing room.
‘This is crap!’ Conway was snorting indignantly. ‘Absolute crap!’
‘I’m sure it is,’ said Georgiou, ‘and I’ll read all about it later.’ He brandished the copy of the paper he’d just picked up from the sergeant.
‘Take my advice, don’t bother,’ said Seward, her face showing she was angry. She moved away from the others and sat down at her desk, still fuming.
‘Don’t let it get to you,’ said Georgiou.
‘But you haven’t read
‘Or maybe even another Curtiz,’ said Seward quietly.
Morrison stared at Seward, stunned.
‘What?’ he said.
‘Michael Curtiz,’ said Seward. ‘The man who directed
Casablanca, Angels with Dirty Faces, The Adventures of Robin Hood—’
Morrison snapped out of his state of shock.
‘I know who Michael Curtiz is, Sergeant!’ he said, almost angrily. ‘I lecture on film.’
Seward nodded.
‘Of course you do,’ she said. ‘Well, thank you for your time, Mr Morrison. You have been most helpful.’
As the two detectives walked away from Morrison, heading for the car park, Taggart asked: ‘What was all that about this Curtiz character?’
‘Hungarian-born film director,’ said Seward. ‘Worked with all the greats: Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney, John Wayne. He directed the only good film Elvis Presley ever made:
King Creole.
’
Taggart gaped at Seward, open-mouthed.
‘I like films,’ explained Seward. ‘When I see anything good, I want to know who made it so I can watch out for their stuff again.’ She shrugged. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything to him.’
‘Yes, you should,’ said Taggart. ‘He was being a pompous prick. You put him down nicely.’
‘But I did it because I was angry,’ said Seward. ‘I got annoyed because he was treating us like morons, like an inferior species because he thinks we don’t understand the world of arts, as if he and his kind are some sort of superior species to the rest of the world. I just wanted to put himright. It was stupid. It brought me down to his level.’
‘Now who’s being superior?’ said Taggart, grinning.
They entered the reception area and headed for the desk.
‘Right,’ said Taggart, ‘let’s see if we can get an address for this reincarnation of Orson Welles.’
Five to three in the afternoon. At the police station it was time for a pooling of information gathered, if any.
As Georgiou and Tennyson walked past the reception desk on their way to the briefing room, they were stopped by a shout from Sergeant Graham.
‘Inspector!’ he called.
‘What now?’ groaned Georgiou, expecting it to be something to do with the superintendent.
As Georgiou approached the desk, Sergeant Graham held out a copy of the local newspaper to him, with a grin.
‘Late edition of the
News and Star,’
he said jovially. ‘Thought you might like to see what they’re saying about you.’
‘Let me guess,’ hazarded Georgiou. ‘That I’m a wonderful human being.’
Graham laughed.
‘Not exactly,’ he said. ‘They’ve got an interview with Mrs Parks. She seems a bit upset.’
Georgiou shrugged.
‘I’ll get one later,’ he said.
‘Take this one,’ said Graham, thrusting it towards Georgiou. ‘Why waste your money. Let the chief pay for it.’
Georgiou took the paper with a slight grin and went back to where Tennyson was waiting for him.
‘Made the gossip columns?’ asked Tennyson, grinning.
‘Something like that,’ said Georgiou.
‘What’s it say?’
‘Let’s get our priorities right,’ said Georgiou. ‘First let’s see what everyone else has got, then I’ll read my press notices.’
NINE
S eward, Taggart, Conway and Little were all gathered around an open copy of the
News and Star
as Georgiou and Tennyson walked into the briefing room.
‘This is crap!’ Conway was snorting indignantly. ‘Absolute crap!’
‘I’m sure it is,’ said Georgiou, ‘and I’ll read all about it later.’ He brandished the copy of the paper he’d just picked up from the sergeant.
‘Take my advice, don’t bother,’ said Seward, her face showing she was angry. She moved away from the others and sat down at her desk, still fuming.
‘Don’t let it get to you,’ said Georgiou.
‘But you haven’t read
Similar Books
