Death Call Read Online Free Page B

it already was. She didn’t need the hassle.
     
    ‘What can I do you for?’ Tracy asked.
     
    ‘We’re trying to find someone. She used to work down by the Cross. A blonde girl in her late twenties. Joanne McCrae. Do you know her?’ Carroll asked.
     
    ‘I haven’t worked down King’s Cross for over a year, mate. I can’t remember her.’
     
    ‘She was a good-looking girl. Scottish accent, maybe....’ Grant added.
     
    ‘Joanne... Jo Mac? I knew a Scottish girl called Jo Mac, but she left the streets. She said she was sick of doing hand-jobs in alleys. I think she was looking for an in-house job. You know, a brothel or escort agency....’
     
    ‘But you don’t know which one?’ Carroll asked.
     
    ‘Naw. I reckon she would’ve probably stayed in the area, though. She used to live around here – down City Road, I think....’
     
    Grant thanked Tracy and got up to leave. Carroll followed suit, wondering who might have ordered a girl for 14 Horseferry Road on a Monday morning. It was hardly the time or day for calling an escort agency.
     

Chapter 4
     
    The clouds had lifted for the afternoon, and Grant seemed to be in a slightly better mood as a result. Carroll was grateful for this reprieve. They had only been together for a week or so he was growing quickly tired of Grant’s attitude and ‘by-the-book’ manner of working.
     
    The short drive from the station to the morgue, where the post mortem examination was due to be carried out, saw a silence as yet unequalled between the two detectives.
     
    ‘I don’t know why we bother with these bloody post mortems. It seems like a bit of a waste when we already know that the woman was working as a hooker. I mean, she was bound to have had sex with at least one guy that day, if not a few more, and it was painfully obvious that she was strangled with her bra strap, you know?’ Carroll offered, breaking the almost religious silence.
     
    Grant, as though disturbed in a peaceful world where all was cosy, responded sharply. ‘Any more gems of wisdom, Sherlock? I didn’t really think so. You could try going through the established CID procedures... You know – the ones you were taught in Hendon. It might’ve escaped your attention while you were there, but the majority of crimes are solved not by hunches or luck, but by hard work and hard evidence.’
     
    ‘Is that the lecture over for today? Because if it isn’t then I think I might do a little work on my own this afternoon.’
     
    ‘That’s the lecture for today. All over and done with. Happy now? I wish I was....’
     
    ‘What the fuck is it that’s eating you, Sam? Look, if we’re gonna be working together we’d best start making an attempt to get on with each other. And if that doesn’t work, we can at least start getting on with the job, okay?’
     
    ‘Okay. But just don’t think I’m gonna let you get away with sloppy procedures. I’ve got a promotion in my sights, and no one’s gonna stop me getting to detective sergeant in the next two years, understand?’
     
    ‘Give me a fuckin’ break, will you? You’ve got a better chance of winning forty million on the National Lottery than getting promoted past your present rank. How many black detective sergeants do you see around you? You were lucky to get to detective constable, pal. So stop your bloody day dreaming, and stop giving me a hard time.’
     
    ‘Fuck you, Paddy. You go take a flying fuckin’ jump with that racist fuckin’ attitude of yours....’
     
    ‘It’s not my attitude. It’s the attitude of the guys on top. The guys you’ll have to brown-nose to get a promotion in the first place. Keep dreaming, Jamaica Boy. Just you keep on dreaming.’
     
    The unmarked squad car moved uneasily through the afternoon traffic, its two occupants retreating to their quiet and safe sanctuaries. Grant was seething again. It had always been his goal to get to DS in the first ten years of service, and here was this Irish