The Death Messenger (Matthew Ryan Book 2)(34)

Ryan made the call, asking the liaison officer to meet him at a pub known to locals as The Corner House. Situated on the Coast Road, it was less than ten minutes from the city centre. He was there and back in under half an hour. ‘Job done,’ he said, chucking his car keys on his desk.

O’Neil raised her head. ‘How was she?’

‘Good as gold,’ he reassured her. ‘So what’s next?’

‘We need help and we need it now, so I’m bringing in someone we both know,’ O’Neil said.

Her plan threw Ryan. ‘Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about—’

‘Too late. I’ve made my play. There are several scenes and limitless issues that need to be dealt with urgently. We can’t do it alone.’

Ryan’s stomach took a dive. He was angling for Grace and Newman and felt a little pissed off that O’Neil had settled on someone without consulting him. ‘We’re not doing it alone,’ he said. ‘We have incident rooms here at HQ, in Scotland and Sussex, dozens of detectives inputting data and waiting on actions. We delegate, surely.’

‘Don’t question me, Ryan.’ O’Neil took off her specs and studied him. ‘You haven’t been to Brighton yet. We need to get down there and I want someone here on the ground to coordinate. This is, potentially, a quadruple murder case now. When the press get wind of the fact that the body found in the Tay is the second most senior judge in Scotland, they’re going to join the Home Office in demanding answers. Unless you have a crystal ball, we have none to give them.’

The truth stung.

I’m bringing in someone we both know.

Ryan could think of only one male and one female serving officer they were both acquainted with. He was prepared to work with neither. The idea of operating alongside his ex-girlfriend, DC Roz Cornell, was enough to bring on a migraine. The alternative – DS Maguire, O’Neil’s former bagman – was even worse.

The intercom buzzed, cutting off his objection before he had a chance to voice it. O’Neil glanced at the visual display on her desk, buzzing their visitor in at street level. She nodded towards the front door.

‘That’ll be her now.’

Her. Roz. Oh God!

Ryan wanted to work with her like he wanted a hole in the head.

‘Are you going to let her in or sit there with your mouth open?’

Reluctantly, he got to his feet, eyes still on O’Neil. Her expression was steadfast, her mind made up. She was strong-willed and he admired that – just not today. He had no chance of influencing her decision. He had to try . . .

‘Guv, this is a mistake I think we’ll both regret.’

‘If she’s no good, I’ll fire her.’

‘I can’t work with her.’

‘Rubbish – you’ve done it before.’

‘Guv—’

‘May I remind you who’s the boss around here?’

‘I though you didn’t pull rank.’

She made a face. ‘I changed my mind.’

She was taking the piss. She hadn’t and never would claim superiority. Like all work colleagues, they’d had their moments but, in the main, they rubbed along nicely.

‘I thought we were a partnership – consulting on everything.’

‘Get. The. Door.’

Ryan walked away, practising a welcome his heart didn’t share as he moved towards the entrance, a black cloud over his head. As he buzzed to open the heavy iron door, he took a deep breath, determined to be nice.

The pair of sharp, expressive eyes on the other side didn’t belong to the person he was expecting.





19


‘You look like you’ve chewed a wasp.’ Grace Ellis handed Ryan her coat and holdall as she exited the lift. ‘I heard you needed an office manager. I’m relying on you to give me the lowdown on this secret squirrel unit. Sounds like my kind of gig. Whose crazy-arsed scheme is it anyhow?’ She looked happier than he’d ever seen her. Positively glowing. Unable to keep the grin off his face, Ryan gave her a big hug, holding on for longer than he meant to. ‘Hey, mister!’ She pushed him away. ‘I’m spoken for.’

‘Newman is one lucky bastard,’ Ryan said. ‘And you are a sight for sore eyes. What did you do with him?’

‘He’s unpacking.’

‘Where are you staying?’

‘Malmaison. Our room has a Millennium Bridge view. Slumming it,’ she joked. ‘I reckon we can handle that for a good cause. You know Frank, he’s like you – only better looking – as long as he can see water, he’s happy. Well, happy might be a bit of an exaggeration. Right now, he’s sulking. Wants to know why he’s not involved here too. We need to work on Eloise.’

‘Work on me?’ O’Neil had come to find them.

Grace blushed.

O’Neil stuck out a hand, the formality surprising Ryan. The two women weren’t exactly friends, but they had been well acquainted prior to Grace’s retirement. There was an awkward moment as O’Neil set down demarcation lines with the woman Ryan’s ex had referred to as the pit bull. The thought made him smile. O’Neil and Grace were polar opposites – he looked forward to the fireworks. His new guv’nor had chosen well.