Hot Blood Read Online Free Page B

ward off her glare. ‘Hey, these days, who knows?’
    ‘Razor, not everyone gets your sense of humour.’
    ‘But you do, right?’
    Button smiled. ‘You’re a bloody dinosaur,’ she said.
    ‘But dinosaurs have their uses,’ said Sharpe.
    ‘Actually, they don’t,’ said Button. ‘That’s why they’re extinct.’
    ‘She got married?’ said Shepherd.
    ‘It was all quite sudden,’ said Button.
    ‘Probably up the spout,’ said Sharpe.
    ‘Jimmy . . .’ said Button.
    ‘This Stockmann, what’s her story?’ asked Shepherd.
    ‘She’s top notch,’ said Button. ‘Very highly qualified. I’ve known her for ten years.’
    ‘She’s worked with undercover agents before?’ asked Shepherd.
    ‘Not per se ,’ said Button. ‘She was in MI5’s Predictive Behaviour Group.’
    ‘Which means what?’ said Shepherd.
    ‘The group is used to determine the way various people might react in a given situation. Generally heads of state. So, if you wanted to know how the Iranian government will react to EU pressure to drop their nuclear programme, you’d ask the PBG. The group has other uses, too. Mostly classified.’
    Shepherd groaned. ‘So a spook’ll decide whether or not I’m fit for undercover work.’
    ‘She’s a highly qualified psychologist who happened to work for the security services,’ said Button. ‘It’s only because she knows me that she’s agreed to work for SOCA. We’re lucky to have her.’
    ‘It’s not about qualifications,’ said Shepherd. ‘It’s about understanding people – understanding what we go through. And if she’s only ever been behind a desk, she’s not going to know what life’s like at the sharp end.’
    ‘So tell her,’ said Button. ‘That’s the purpose of the biannual, to get everything off your chest.’
    ‘That’s not strictly true, though, is it?’ said Shepherd. ‘It’s also a test we have to pass to remain on active duty.’
    ‘Spider, you’re fine. I know you’re fine and you know you’re fine. You have a chat with Caroline and she’ll confirm what we both know.’ She glanced at her watch again. ‘I have to go.’
    As she headed for the door, Shepherd saw that Sharpe was grinning at him.
    ‘What?’ said Shepherd.
    ‘What happened to Kathy Gift?’ said Sharpe, in a whiny voice.
    ‘Behave,’ said Shepherd.
    ‘You had a thing for her, didn’t you?’
    ‘How old are you, Razor?’
    ‘Spider and Kathy, sitting in a tree . . .’ sang Sharpe.
    ‘Screw you,’ said Shepherd, walking away.
    ‘ . . .K-I-S-S-I-N-G.’ Sharpe’s voice followed Shepherd out of the warehouse. Button’s black Vauxhall Vectra was driving away. She was in the back, reading something.
    ‘You okay?’ said Singh, behind him.
    Shepherd shrugged. ‘What do you make of her?’ he asked.
    ‘She’s a good boss,’ said Singh. ‘Gives you room to do your own thing but she’s there when you need her.’
    Shepherd nodded thoughtfully. ‘Yeah, she’s growing on me.’ He jerked a thumb at the warehouse. ‘That went well, from start to finish.’
    ‘She had all the bases covered,’ agreed Singh. ‘I had to laugh at Razor, though. Pulling a gun like that.’
    ‘Yeah, he’s a bugger sometimes. But he’s a pro.’
    ‘Fancy a drink?’
    ‘Nah,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’ve got to get home. Rain check, yeah?’
    ‘No sweat,’ said Singh. ‘I’ll take Wild Bill Hickok for a drink.’ He turned back to the warehouse. ‘Oy, Razor, d’you fancy a pint?’
    ‘Do bears shit in the Vatican?’ yelled Sharpe.
    Shepherd chuckled and headed for his car.
    Shepherd parked the Series Seven BMW in the driveway. He was going to miss Graham May’s vehicle of choice. His own Honda CRV was four years old and he needed to replace it. But a Series Seven was well out of his price range.
    The estate agent’s sign in the front garden had ‘ UNDER OFFER ’ across the top. A young couple, looking for somewhere bigger, had offered the asking price, which was double what