The Grotesques Read Online Free Page B

building. In her car, she sat, hands on the steering wheel, and let out a slow breath. Investigating this story was very likely to be a bigger mistake than the one which had ruined her life. True, she had little left to lose, but a life of obscure underachievement had to be better than another public humiliation. When the last film crew left, she got out of the car and headed back to the building, unsure when she had decided on confrontation.
    “Detective Robert Hamlyn, please,” her most flirtatious smile requested of the officer at the front desk.
    Obviously used to unauthorised visitors, the poker-faced young man continued shuffling records. “The detective is unavailable. I suggest you try the next press conference.”
    “Tell him Ella Jerome wants to see him.”
    “He’s unavailable,” the sergeant repeated, fingers tapping at the keyboard.
    “It’s a personal matter, so I’ll wait.”
    “Sorry, Miss. He’s on his way to an interview and then the morgue.”
    Then so was she.
     
    PARKED CONSPICUOUSLY IN front of the entrance to the morgue, she scanned the street and car park for oncoming cars. A shiny, unmarked Commodore pulled in, screaming police car at her. She got out and strode confidently through the car park. He didn’t notice her until he had locked the door.
    “Hello, Rob.” His hair was peppered with more grey than she remembered.
    “What are you doing here?” His gruff tone didn’t mask the hint of surprise.
    Her pang of nostalgia disintegrated, and she wished she could use Tilly’s trick of hiding under the car when faced with an unfamiliar situation. “I need some inside information.” Her smile extended no further than her lips.
    “You’ve got a nerve, Ella,” he said, pocketing his keys.
    “Nice to see you too.”
    “To be honest, I didn’t think I was going to see you again.”
    “I need a break, okay.”
    “Why? So that you can degrade your name further with front page fiction for that tabloid you’re working for, and take me down with you?” He glanced toward the entrance.
    “That’s not fair.”
    For the first time he really looked at her. “No, I suppose it isn’t. What do you want?”
    She had known this was going to be a challenge. “Listen, Rob, I have a second shot, the possibility of a freelance article for the Sydney Morning Herald . This story . . . if I do it right . . .” She had little hope of that and less of submitting to the Herald , but to make any headway at all she needed his help and for that she had to seem credible.
    His eyebrows twitched, completely unsympathetic. “Good luck.”
    “I need the break.”
    “Yeah. Well you’re on an even playing field with the other journos.”
    “Not quite.”
    “No. Not quite. But do you really expect me to help you?”
    She took a deep breath. “You owe me, Rob. Big time.”
    He dropped his head and nodded at the ground. “I suppose I do.” When he looked up, his eyes had softened. “But you can’t seriously expect me to compromise this investigation.”
    “I might help. I have a source.” She stood a little straighter.
    “Do you know something I should?”
    “No, nothing like that,” she broke eye contact, “but, well, I think a different angle to the investigation might provide new insight.”
    He snorted. “A line other than ‘alien feeding frenzy’? Come on, Ella, I know what tack that tabloid takes. You’d have been better off in the dole queue than churning out the nonsense you do.”
    “Thanks a lot, Rob. So good to know I devoted two years of my life to a man who never bothered to get to know me.” Hurt, she folded her arms and turned away. Had he ever bothered to check up on her, he would know her work was factual if scandalous. She went to great pains to ensure that.
    “Ella, I didn’t mean . . .”
    “Leave it, Rob,” she said, shaking her head. “However much you’re hurting, I’m smarting more.” She started walking, not quite able to pull her shoulders back.
    “I