The Death Messenger (Matthew Ryan Book 2)(17)

‘Who the hell are you?’ The male voice took her completely by surprise. She’d specifically asked for O’Neil, the Senior Investigating Officer, the one in charge. It angered her to think that she wasn’t being taken seriously. If only he knew that’s what all this was about.

Why didn’t they listen?

‘More to the point,’ Ryan said. ‘Who are you?’

‘Never mind that,’ she said. ‘I want to talk to O’Neil.’

‘Tough,’ he said. ‘She has staff to take messages. That’ll be me. Shall we start over? I’d hate to get off on the wrong foot. My name is DS Matthew Ryan, Ryan to my friends. I’m one of the good guys. Somehow I don’t think we’d get along. Now it’s your turn to be nice and share.’

Having heard her voice on four separate DVDs, Ryan would have known it anywhere. It had been in his head constantly, like a favourite music CD on repeat play, except her song wasn’t one he fancied listening to. It was hard to place her age. Possibly mid thirties. She was educated though. He was sure of it.

‘I don’t think you heard me,’ she said.

Ryan forced a laugh. ‘You don’t get to call the shots here, pet.’

‘Listen, arsehole! I’m nobody’s pet, least of all yours. O’Neil is obviously your boss. She’s the one I speak to. Now put her on.’

‘Not possible—’

‘Why’s that?’

‘You’ve been demoted. She has more important cases. And here’s the thing: we’re not interested in crime scenes without bodies. My guv’nor and I like our scenes meaty – literally and figuratively speaking – cases we can get our teeth into. So why don’t you tell me where we can find the other victims and we’ll call it quits.’

This Ryan character cracked her up. She was torn. Either he was thick or he had guts. He reminded her of her father – of her – a person with strong opinions and no fear in voicing them.

‘I’ll do better than that,’ she said.

‘Go for it.’

A beat of time as she left him dangling. She was in control and well he knew it. She sensed the dipstick holding his breath, wondering if she’d abandon the call or stay on the line. Her stopwatch was registering less than three minutes. Perfect timing. ‘I believe you need some sea air, Matthew: 21 High Spencer Street, Whitley Bay.’

The dialling tone seemed to draw a menacing line under the address. O’Neil emerged from her room just as Ryan was writing it down.

‘Who was that?’

‘That, guv, was our new best friend.’

‘Did you get it on tape?’

Ryan held up his recorder, a big grin on his face.

‘Great!’ Flexing the fingers of her right hand, O’Neil gestured that he should hand it over. She took the device from him and turned away, listening carefully to the conversation.

Without sight of her face, Ryan sensed her fury.

She turned slowly, face set in a scowl, eyes wide.

She threw the recorder on his desk.

‘Delete it!’ she said.

‘What?’

‘You heard me.’

Ryan wavered, confused by her strop. ‘It’s evidence, guv.’

She waited for him to do it. ‘Don’t you look at me like I’m the one in the wrong here, Ryan. That “evidence” will end up in a courtroom one day. You might have talked to suspects like that in Special Branch. You never do it under my command. Is that clear?’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do, because it was entirely inappropriate. We need to maintain a professional approach. Anything offered in evidence needs to reflect that. We don’t want you sounding like some gobshite on the phone. It’s not cool. And don’t you dare touch my phone again, EVER!’

Ryan held up his hands as if she were holding a gun. ‘Guv, you weren’t here.’

‘I was in the next room—’

‘On the phone to someone else!’

‘You could’ve knocked. I’d have hung up.’

‘I’ll ask her to wait next time, shall I?’

O’Neil glared at him then walked away.

‘Guv, I’m sorry!’

She rounded on him. ‘Too bloody late!’

‘So now I’ve had my hands slapped maybe you could tell me how you’d have handled it?’

‘I’d have tried to engage with her, not put her back up—’

‘Yeah, like that was going to get us anywhere—’

‘It gets her talking to us! I have expertise as a hostage negotiator, Ryan. I’d have used those skills. She doesn’t have a hostage – at least we hope not – but information is her hostage. She’s holding the biggest hand. I would’ve talked to her in a way that would gain her trust. As long as we have dialogue, we have something.’

‘Fine!’

‘No, not fine! If Professional Standards got hold of that tape you’d be on a hiding to nothing. I know how their minds work, Ryan. They’d see it as entirely unacceptable – and it was. If you can’t see that then perhaps we shouldn’t be working together. Think on it. This conversation is over.’





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