Riven Read Online Free Page B

felt herself breathe in the cold damp air and was grateful to be out of the house, away from the atmosphere of evil. She inhaled again, deeper this time, bringing the freezing air low into her lungs, enjoying the shock it gave her system. She watched the crime-scene photographer come out of the house and continue taking pictures before she half turned back to the house and opened her mouth to yell, but he was already striding towards her, long legs covering the ground easily. ‘No need to shout,’ Ross said, ‘I’m here already. We’re going to interview the two boys. Right?’
    She smiled at him. ‘Bingo.’

Chapter 3
    Ross turned the car into the station car park and braked sharply. ‘Christ, I nearly killed the wee shite’.
    The wee shite in question, Graham Reaper, was chief reporter with the
Glasgow Evening Chronicle
and he flashed a crooked smile before signalling to his photographer to get a picture of the cops. He already had the headline in mind:
Gruesome Find in Glasgow’s East End! Murder Inquiry Begins
.
    ‘You ever wonder how Grim gets here so fast?’ Ross parked the car, pausing to smooth down his hair before releasing his seat belt.
    ‘Aye, he’s being tipped off and if Stewart ever finds out who the hell’s doing it, they’ll be fucked.’ She glanced at him. ‘You always so worried about your appearance?’
    ‘Well, if I’m going to be in the paper . . . there’s no harm in looking my best. You never know who’ll see it.’
    ‘You single
again
?’
    ‘I know it’s hard to believe.’
    ‘What happened to the last girlfriend – what was her name?’
    ‘Sarah.’
    ‘Aye, her. What happened?’
    ‘The usual.’
    ‘The usual in that she woke up one day and realised that you’re a numpty?’
    Ross tried for a hurt look. ‘The usual in that she started blethering on about rings, future plans, kids. She even mentioned coming off the pill. That sort of shite.’ He mimed putting two fingers down his throat and gagging.
    ‘You not want a wee “mini-you”? Thought that would be right up your street.’
    ‘No way. I’m too young. In my prime.’ He threw open the door, blinked back the flash from the camera. He fixed a ‘no comment’ smile to his face and made for the door.
    She had already reached it when the reporter caught up with her. ‘So, a murder inquiry, Inspector Wheeler – any comment?’
    ‘You know better than to ask for anything at this point, Grim; there’ll be an official statement later and if you’re really lucky Stewart will throw you a press conference by mid-week.’
    ‘Aye but is it gang-related? It must be, surely? Drugs? A turf war? What’s your take on it?’
    ‘See the above answer.’
    ‘Got anything to do with Maurice Mason being released?’ he persisted. ‘Christ sake hen, gimme something.’
    She smiled.
    ‘Come on, eh? Man needs to make a living here. Give me a break, I’m only doing my job.’
    ‘Well, okay Grim,’ she stopped and turned towards him, ‘but you first. You tell me who called you about this, who’s giving you the heads up on these cases?’
    Grim gave her a sly smile. ‘You know I cannae reveal my sources hen. It wouldn’t be professional.’
    ‘That right?’ she asked, holding open the station door to let Ross go inside.
    ‘Aye,’ Grim made to follow her, ‘but maybe we could have a wee chat, off the record like?’
    Wheeler walked into the station and slammed the door, heard Grim curse her. Shrugged, ‘Let the ugly wee runt get soaked.’
    ‘Still but,’ Ross stood beside her, shaking his head like a dog who’d just returned from a walk in the rain.
    She stood beside him, the rain drops from her boots leaking onto the cracked linoleum. ‘I know, I know.’
    ‘Mason,’ said Ross.
    Tommy Cunningham sat behind the desk. ‘That bastard got out early.’
    ‘Aye, he did, TC,’ she agreed. ‘I wonder what he’ll be up to now he no longer has his own rent-a-thug empire.’
    Cunningham scowled. ‘He’ll be up