Hostage to Murder. V. McDermid L.

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ of those who had ever dared to betray him. Even now, the thought of what he had lost when she had disappeared gave him physical pain. For seven years, he’d dreamed of finding her again, convinced that their paths would have to cross sooner or later. Not a day had passed without consciousness of what had gone when she had vanished from his life. At last, he had a chance to regain the peace of mind she had stolen from him. He flicked the intercom. ‘Theresa, Sammy McGuire’s due a twenty on the house. He’ll be by later on.’

      Then he hit the speed dialler again. The other end answered on the second ring, if silence could be called answering. ‘Michael?’ Patrick said softly.

      ‘No, it’s Kevin.’

      Patrick stifled a sigh. The way it worked, you had to find a place for the stupid ones because it was bad politics to turn them away. So you put one thick one on every team and hoped the others would keep him out of trouble. Funny, it always was a him that was the thicko. You could get away with it without too many problems usually, because one dummy in a cell of four or five wasn’t too much of a liability. But in a team of two … it might be a different story. Patrick hoped not, for all sorts of reasons. ‘Put Michael on,’ he said wearily.

      A long moment of silence, then Michael’s hard voice cut through the ether. ‘Patrick,’ he said.

      ‘Come in. I’ve got something for you.’ Patrick put the phone down. Only then did he realize his cigar had gone out.

      The headlights turned into the drive. Lindsay checked that it was Sophie’s car and reached for the phone. ‘Carry out, please,’ she said when it was answered. By the time the front door closed, she was listening to the invariable, ‘Twenty-five minutes, Mrs Gordon.’ She twisted round on the window seat so she was half-facing the door. She heard Sophie’s briefcase hit the floor, heard the snick of the cloakroom door shutting, then her partner’s voice.

      ‘I’m home,’ Sophie called. Her shoes clicked on the wooden flooring as she turned into the kitchen. ‘Lindsay?’ She sounded puzzled.

      ‘I’m through here.’

      Sophie appeared in the doorway, still elegant after a day’s work in a tailored suit and plain silk shirt. She had the grace not to ask why Lindsay wasn’t in the kitchen as usual, putting the finishing touches to dinner. ‘Hi, darling,’ she said, the smile reaching her tired eyes. Then she took in the bandaged ankle propped on a cushion and raised her eyebrows, concern on her face. ‘What on earth have you been doing to yourself?’

      ‘It’s just a sprain.’

      Sophie crossed the room and perched by Lindsay’s foot, her hand drawn irresistibly to the neatly wrapped crepe bandage that swaddled the injured ankle. ‘Suddenly you’re the doctor?’

      ‘I’m the one with the sports injuries experience.’ Lindsay grinned. ‘Trust me, it’s a sprain.’

      ‘What happened?’ Sophie tenderly stroked Lindsay’s leg.

      ‘I wasn’t paying attention. I was running up the hill to the Botanics and I crashed into somebody.’

      Sophie shook her head, indulgent amusement on her face. ‘So how much havoc did you create?’

      ‘None. She was absolutely fine. She ended up driving me home.’

      ‘Lucky for you her car was there.’

      Lindsay shrugged. ‘She lives across the river. It was easier to give in and hobble there than to risk doing myself serious damage by walking all the way home.’

      ‘Still, it was nice of her to take the trouble.’ Sophie began gently massaging the relaxed curve of Lindsay’s calf.

      Lindsay leaned back against the folded wooden shutter. ‘Aye, it was. And then she propositioned me.’

      Sophie’s hand froze and her eyes widened. ‘She what?’

      Lindsay struggled to maintain a straight face. ‘She made me the kind of offer you’re not supposed to be able to refuse, especially when it comes from a cute blonde baby dyke.’

      ‘I hope this is your idea of a joke,’ Sophie said, her voice a dark warning.

      ‘No joke. She asked me if I wanted to come and work with her.’

      Sophie cocked her head to one side, not sure how much her lover was playing with her. ‘She offered you a job? On the basis of crashing into you and watching you sprain your ankle? She’s looking for a bull in a china shop?’

      ‘On the basis that I am still apparently a legend in my own lunchtime and she’s got a very healthy freelance journalism business that could use another pair of hands.’ Lindsay let her face relax, her eyes sparkling with the delight of having wound Sophie up.

      Sophie gave Lindsay’s knee a gentle punch. ‘Bastard,’ she said. You had me going for a minute there.’ She ran a hand through her silvered curls. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she sighed. ‘Only you could manage to turn a jogging accident into a job opportunity. But how did she know you were a journalist? Is she someone you used to work with?’

      ‘No. She was barely in the game by the time we left for California.’ Lindsay quickly ran through the details of the encounter with Rory that she’d been polishing into an anecdote all afternoon. ‘And so,’ she concluded, ‘I said I’d think about it.’

      ‘What’s to think about?’ Sophie said. ‘It doesn’t have to be forever. If something else you really fancy comes up, you can always move on. Idleness makes you miserable, and it’s not like you’re snowed under with prospects.’

      Lindsay pulled a face. ‘Thanks for reminding me,’ she said frostily.

      ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that it sounds like what Rory’s doing would be right up your street. Chasing the kind of stories that interest you. Working with a community you can feel part of.’

      Lindsay drew her leg away from Sophie and swung round to face the living room. ‘Never mind that I’d be working for somebody ten years younger than me. Never mind that she only offered it because she felt sorry for me. Never mind that it feels like back-tracking to where I was fifteen years ago.’

      Sophie got to her feet and moved to turn on the lamps. ‘It doesn’t sound like she felt sorry for you. It sounds like she was blown away by the chance of working with one of her heroes. Anyway, from what you’ve said, you wouldn’t be working for Rory, you’d be working with her.’

      ‘And who do you think is going to get first dibs on the stories? They’d be coming from her contacts, not mine. Coming on the basis of her reputation, not mine. I’d end up with the scraps from the table. The stories that don’t interest her. The down-page dross.’

      Sophie leaned on the mantelpiece, casting a speculative look at her lover. ‘It might start off like that. But it wouldn’t be long before the word went out that Lindsay Gordon was back in town. You’d soon be pulling in your own stories. Where’s your fight gone, Lindsay? You’ve always had a good conceit of yourself. It’s not like you to indulge in self-pity.’

      For a long moment, Lindsay said nothing. Finally, she took a deep breath. ‘Maybe I’ve been sitting in your shadow for too long.’

      Sophie’s face СКАЧАТЬ