“Now, a little birdie tells me you’ve got some questions about that role-stealing bastard, Archie Tatties. Gone and got himself done in, I’m hearing.” Fellatio sat back so she could check out both detectives just by turning her head. Her gaze lingered on Tyler, who was now laser-focused on patting the dog like the fate of the world depended on it. “That right, lover?” she asked him. “Someone’s gone and done in poor Archie Tatties?”

“That’s right, miss,” Logan confirmed, playing along. There was no point in not. He didn’t care if it was Hank Wanamaker, Fellatio McFudd, or the bloody Tooth Fairy who answered his questions, just as long as some bugger did. “We were hoping you might be able to shed some light on—”

“You seen his films?” Fellatio asked. “What his company makes?”

“You mean the wedding videos and corporate stuff?” Logan asked.

Fellatio’s laugh was a shrill, irritating thing, like fingernails being dragged down a blackboard. Even the dog protested with a raising of its head and a low, exasperated whuff.

“Oh yeah. ‘Wedding videos,’” the drag queen said, making the quotation marks in the air with her clawed fingers. “I don’t think so. You know what they call him on the estates? Tatties? Know what they call him?”

“What estates?” Logan asked, but Fellatio brushed the question off.

“‘The Filther King.’ That’s what they call him. You know, like ‘The Fisher King’ but for filth? On account of them films he makes.”

“You mean porn?” asked Tyler, before he could stop himself.

Fellatio turned her gaze on him again, and fluttered her terrifying eyelashes. “And what would a nice young man like you know about a naughty thing like that?” she asked, her voice dropping into a husky whisper.

“Archie was making pornography?” Logan said. “That would certainly help to explain his company’s income.”

“Doing well, was he? Bastard!” Fellatio puffed on her cigarette, then blew it out through her teeth. “Course, you go into business with that lot, and there’s always plenty of money floating around, I suppose. Blood money, you ask me. I’d want no part of it, myself.” She put a hand on Tyler’s leg and he tensed as she pressed her nails into his thigh. “I can think of a few parts of you I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on, though…”

“And what people would that be?” Logan asked, drawing Fellatio’s attention again.

When she turned to him there was a flash of panic on her painted face, and her hair swished as she gave her head a hurried shake.