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VAL McDERMID
Star Struck
For Tessa and Peps, the Scylebert Twins (aka Margaret & Nicky) Thanks for all the laughter – we’ll never feel the same about Isa.
Table of Contents
Extract from the computer database of Dorothea Dawson, Seer to the Stars
Written in the Stars for Kate Brannigan, private investigator.
Born Oxford, UK, 4th September 1966.
* Sun in Virgo in the Fifth House
* Moon in Taurus in the Twelfth House
* Mercury in Virgo in the Fifth House
* Venus in Leo in the Fourth House
* Mars in Leo in the Fourth House
* Jupiter in Cancer in the Third House
* Saturn retrograde in Pisces in the Eleventh House
* Uranus in Virgo in the Fifth House
* Neptune in Scorpio in the Sixth House
* Pluto in Virgo in the Fifth House
* Chiron in Pisces in the Eleventh House
* Ascendant Sign: Gemini
SUN IN VIRGO IN THE 5TH HOUSE
On the positive side, can be ingenious, verbally skilled, diplomatic, tidy, methodical, discerning and dutiful. The negatives are fussiness, a critical manner, an obsessive attention to detail and a lack of self-confidence that can disguise itself as arrogance. In the 5th House, it indicates a player of games.
From Written in the Stars, by Dorothea Dawson
My client was about to get a resounding smack in the mouth. I watched helplessly from the other side of the street. My adrenaline was pumping, but there was no way I could have made it to her side in time. That’s the trouble with bodyguarding jobs. Even if you surround the client with a phalanx of Rutger Hauer clones and Jean Van Damme wannabes in bulletproof vests, the moment always comes when they’re vulnerable. And guess who always gets the blame? That’s why, when people come looking for a minder, the house rule at Brannigan & Co: Investigations & Security states, ‘We don’t do that.’
But Christmas was coming and the goose was anorexic. Business had been as slow as a Post Office queue and even staff as unorthodox as mine expect to be paid on time. Besides, I deserved a festive bonus myself. Eating, for example. So I’d sent my better judgement on an early Yuletide break and agreed to take on a client who’d turned out to be more accident prone than Coco the Clown.
For once, it wasn’t my fault that the client was in the front line. I’d had no say in what was happening out there on the street. If I’d wanted to stop it, I couldn’t have. So, absolved from action for once, I stood with my hands in my pockets and watched Carla Hardcastle’s arm swing round in a fearsome arc to deliver a cracking wallop that wiped the complacent smirk off Brenda Barrowclough’s self-satisfied face. I sucked my breath in sharply.
‘And cut,’ the director said. ‘Very nice, girls, but I’d like it one more time. Gloria, loved that smug little smile, but can you lose it at the point where you realize she’s actually going to thump you? And let us see some outrage?’
My client gave a forbearing smile that was about as sincere as a beggar asking for tea money. ‘Whatever you say, Helen, chuck,’ she rasped in the voice that thrilled the nation three times a week as we shovelled down our microwave dinners in front of Manchester’s principal contribution to the world of soap. Then she turned to me with an exaggerated wink and called, ‘You’re all right, chuck, it’s only make believe.’
Everyone turned to stare at me. I managed to grin while clenching my teeth. It’s a talent that comes in very