Lethal Intent Read Online Free

from nowhere, the sardonic grin was back. 'Well, Jingle,' he murmured. 'Maybe you'd better just press it and we'll see.'
    A look of fury crossed the dealer's face; a snarl escaped from his lips as he held the Nokia in the air and pressed the send button.
    Davie boy took a step to the side, so that he could keep both the dealer and the door in his line of vision. The man he had called Jingle stared at it, waiting for it to burst open, and for the stockbroker to set about his business.
    But it stayed firmly closed. Instead, there was a tearing sound as the door of cubicle four ripped free of its sealing tape. A woman stepped out. She wore a black satin trouser suit and her brunette hair was expensively cut; she was pretty, but her face was set and she looked all business.
    'Hey, Mavis,' Davie boy exclaimed. 'Jingle here reckons you're a lesbian. Is that right?'
    The woman kicked the dealer, once, twice, on each calf with the pointed toe of her shoe, sending him slumping to his knees, seizing his hands as he fell and holding them in the air for Davie boy to bind his wrists together with plastic handcuffs.
    Standing straighter now, and looking altogether different, he wrenched the man back to his feet. 'I am Detective Chief Inspector David Mackenzie,' he said. 'Fettes; Drugs Squad commander. My friends and enemies alike call me Bandit. This is Detective Sergeant Mavis McDougall, who is, for your information, as straight as a die. But she didn't take offence at being called a lesbian. No, she objected to you trying to sell me a class A drug, for which offence, Charles "Jingle" Bell, we are placing you under arrest. Now, tell me if you understand the following.'
    He recited the formal caution; when it was complete, Bell said nothing, but spat in his face.
    'Thank you,' said Bandit Mackenzie, taking a paper towel from the dispenser and wiping himself. 'That'll come up nicely on the video. Camera's in the tampon machine, by the way: we reckoned that was the one that'd get the least use. So, in addition to possession with intent to supply, you'll also be charged with assaulting a police officer. Come on. Let's get you out of here so the ladies can use their toilets.'
    He grasped Bell by the arm and marched him towards the door, which McDougall opened for him. Outside a crowd of clubbers had gathered around the stockbroker; he was face down on the floor, bleeding heavily from the nose, with his hands cuffed behind his back. A long knife lay beside him, and there was a smear of blood on the wall, where, Bandit supposed, his face had hit it, hard. As if to confirm this guess, a muscular man in a leather jacket stood over him, with a foot on his neck. His curly blond hair looked surreal as it was caught in the zooming nightclub lights, and his green eyes gleamed.
    'You will not try that again,' said Deputy Chief Constable Andy Martin to the prone stockbroker, then he looked up at Jingle Bell. 'And neither will you, my friend. This may not be my patch any more, but I will not tolerate anyone setting up a dope business anywhere, least of all in a place owned by a friend of mine. But you weren't to know that, were you, any more than you were to know that Spike Thomson doesn't scare easily.'
    He smiled, even more wickedly. 'You and your pal did me favour, though.' He chuckled. 'After all these months in uniform, I've really enjoyed this wee bit of action.'
Six
    They sat side by side on the terrace of their suite in the Pier House, looking out across the Gulf of Mexico, listening to the varied sounds of the resort as they drifted up to them. The sun had vanished below the horizon, but there was still sufficient light for them to take in the waterfront action.
    Sarah stretched out her long, tanned legs, resting her heels on the balcony rail and sitting further back in her chair. She swirled the ice round in the Cuba Libre, which she had brought up from the bar, and glanced sideways at her husband. 'It's broke, isn't it?' she whispered.
    'I guess