Bad Blood (Detective Jack Brody Book 4) by J.M. O'Rourke

Author:J.M. O'Rourke [O'Rourke, J.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inkubator Books
Published: 2023-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

19

Jack turned the shower heat regulator all the way into the blue zone, the explosion of frigid water against his skin igniting every nerve, shocking him into uber consciousness. It was what he needed right now. He hadn’t slept well, and he felt like he’d spent the night at an airport. As he dressed, the feeling returned, something gnawing at him. It wasn’t just Ashling Nolan, although what had happened with her weighed heavily. It was more. Images of his dream flashed across his mind, of the dark storm clouds, the boats bobbing about in the water. His sense of foreboding became sharper. The storm, he felt, was almost upon them.

In his office he sat heavily behind his desk, eyed the free-standing punch bag in the corner. Jack turned on his computer and, while he waited for it to boot up, stood again and stepped over to the heavy.

He needed that gnawing feeling inside him gone; he needed his head cleared; he needed to be able to think straight. He lifted the pair of gloves from their hook on the wall next to the bag. He’d give it five minutes, that’s all, five minutes. He put on his gloves and started, concentrating on landing each shot, of transferring every piece of energy up through his right leg and into his arm, then into his fist, crashing it into the heavy, before switching, doing the same with the other leg, as the anchor loop on the heavy holding the bag jiggered about, coming perilously close to bouncing free more than once. When he finished, Brody stepped back, panting, his forehead coated in sweat.

‘You’re going to need another shower, boss.’

Marty stepped into the office and looked at him.

‘Clearing the head, is it?’ he asked.

‘Nothing that can’t be sorted with a bit of help from my friend,’ Brody answered, nodding to the punch bag. ‘Anyway, perfect timing. I want you to go and get everybody into my office in, say, ten minutes, will you do that, please?’

‘Your office?’

‘Yes, my office, Marty.’

‘You don’t usually…you usually go down to the unit room, don’t you?’

‘I do. But this time it’s a bit more…you know.’ Brody tapped the side of his nose a couple of times.

‘Oh, I get it,’ Marty said, and nodded. ‘The walls have ears and all that. By the way, I finally got him…’

‘Got who?’

‘The concierge at the Herbert Park Platinum. You told me to have a talk with him, remember.’

‘Oh yes, good man, Marty.’

‘His name’s Walter Valtez.’

‘Is that Maltese?’

‘Close.’ Marty grinned. ‘Miltown Malbay in west Clare, actually. Seemingly, the name’s common down there.’

‘Well, you learn something new every day.’

‘He’s only a young fella, a student at TCD, psychology, fits his studies in around his job.’

‘Okay, and what’d he have to say for himself?’

‘It’s what he didn’t say, boss. Definitely in on it, if you ask me, but from a distance. I think he was a spotter; in his role he could identify the ones he thought offered the most potential. But proving it’s going to be a different matter.

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