A Cold Killing (Rosie Gilmour) Read Online Free Page B

bit. I’ve got another story to do – a big drug case finishing today, and I’ve been doing the background – so I’m heading down to the Old Bailey now. I’ll keep an eye on the shooting, and we’ve got someone else covering for the day, but we’ve kind of moved on here.’
    ‘How very London,’ Rosie said with a hint of sarcasm, though she knew how quickly even major stories slipped down the news agenda back home, if something more tantalizing cropped up. But it was more so in London.
    ‘Yeah,’ Andy said. ‘You know what it’s like. So much going on here. We can’t get bogged down on shootings and murder unless they’re really big. Happens every day in London.’
    ‘Not to retired university lecturers, Andy. It’s obvious someone wanted him dead.’
    ‘Yeah. But I’ve told my detective contacts that unless they can throw us a bone, the story will be history.’
    ‘Maybe that’s what they want,’ she said, knowing she had nothing to back it up, apart from her distrust of authority. ‘Maybe it will suit them for the story to disappear.’
    ‘Aye, right, Rosie. Conspiracy theories are not fact.’
    ‘But sometimes they turn out to be, if we keep digging.’
    ‘Sure, darlin’. Couldn’t agree more. But not for me, not today. What you doing later? Fancy a curry?’
    Rosie was already thinking of her next move, and dinner with Andy was nowhere in her plans.
    ‘Don’t think so. Not tonight. I might be getting pulled back up the road in the morning. Not much really for me down here. I think Mahoney’s background – old students and stuff and former colleagues – might throw a better light on things.’
    ‘Maybe. Listen. You will give me a shout, though, if you get anything . . . you know, mark my card. I don’t expect you to share any major exclusive – I know what you’re like – but at least mark my card.’
    ‘’Course I will,’ Rosie said, not convinced that she would.
    ‘I need to go. The judge was already charging the jury, so they might be out by now.’
    ‘OK, Andy. Keep in touch if you get anything.’
    Rosie hung up. Her next call was to Mickey Kavanagh, and she gave him the name Andy had given her of the owner of the flat, to see if he could dig anything up.
    She ordered more coffee from room service and was about to ring McGuire’s office when her mobile rang.
    ‘Mick. I was just about to ring you. How spooky is that?’
    ‘It’s nearly two in the afternoon. You should have phoned before this, Gilmour. Have you got anything exciting for me? Anything different from the same old shite that’s running on the telly and the wires?’
    ‘Maybe. Let me run this past you.’
    Rosie told him the waitress’s story about the girl with the Scottish accent.
    ‘How come the cops haven’t put that out?’
    ‘Sometimes they don’t straight away. They might be working their way through all the punters in the café, and haven’t acted on the waitress’s statement yet. Or maybe they’re keeping it to themselves for now.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Don’t know, Mick. Who knows the inner workings of Scotland Yard?’
    ‘Well, they’re too fucking late. We’re using that tomorrow. We have to. It’s the only thing that’s different. Mystery Scots woman flees bloodbath. Stick a call into the cops and find out if they intend putting it out.’ He paused. ‘In fact, don’t bother. We’ll just run it and see what happens.’
    ‘They’ll be raging if we do that, especially if they were intending drip-feeding it to the press.’
    ‘Fuck them. They don’t run the news agenda – we do. Do it up and bung it over so I can have a look. And plenty of colour in the café. I like blood and screams. I’m funny that way.’
    ‘OK. Sure.’
    ‘Anything else for you down there, apart from enjoying yourself, spending my money?’
    ‘No. Not at the moment.’
    ‘OK. Come back tomorrow then. Give it the morning then get a lunchtime flight. There’s more to be done up here.’
    ‘I agree. I’ll