The Choice_An Absolutely Gripping Crime Thriller You Won't Be Able to Put Down by Jake Cross

Author:Jake Cross [Cross, Jake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Noir, Thrillers, Crime, suspense
ISBN: 9781786814159
Google: EoFHDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07931MLHF
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2018-03-23T00:00:00+00:00

Forty-Eight

Mac

‘My God,’ Cooper said. ‘So Liz Grafton wasn’t kidnapped at all.’

While Mac sent a text, he said: ‘It seems not. But we don’t assume anything, okay? Seabury could have killed her, and he could say she ran off again.’ Cooper nodded. ‘One other thing. From now on, leave the talking to me. You mentioned Ronald Grafton to Seabury’s wife.’

Cooper looked puzzled.

‘She’s worried about her husband. And now she has a name to use on the Internet. She’ll find out that Karl’s being hunted by killers. A pregnant woman doesn’t need that sort of worry.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘You’re still learning. Pull that surveillance off Seabury’s house.’

Cooper said: ‘Really? What if he—?’

‘He won’t come back, Cooper. He’s going straight to a police station. I’ve been around longer than you, and my hunch tells me that. You’ll develop one in a few years, and you’ll trust it. Heck, even if he did come back, he’d sit tight, hug his wife and call us.’

Mac’s phoned pinged. A return text.

‘He could be a dangerous man,’ Cooper said. ‘If he comes back, we should grab—’

‘We won’t grab him. He’s a surveillance expert, Cooper. He’d know we were watching. And then he’d lose trust and carry on running. This guy isn’t a hardened killer. What happened with Król was self-defence. He’s a scared man. He’ll go straight to a station, believe me. Half an hour from now he’ll be in custody. Pull the surveillance. It’s a waste of manpower.’

Cooper made no move to do so. ‘Your informant, is he working for these people? He ever mentioned Ronald Grafton to you?’

‘Informants all have secrets. I had no idea. But we’re assuming again, aren’t we? Leave the fucking thinking to me, okay?’

Cooper, frustrated at being shot down again, opened his mouth to speak, but Mac held up a hand as his phoned pinged once more, and he glanced at the screen.

‘I’m sorry I spoke that way to you,’ Mac said to Cooper, locking his phone. ‘You’re a good copper,’ he added.

He was putting the phone away when it rang. He was smiling when he removed it from his jacket, thinking it was the same caller as before. But his smile disappeared when he saw the name of the caller. He almost put the phone to his bad ear again, but realised his error just in time. It was still hurting from when he made that mistake earlier.

‘Our Nancy-boy leg-breaker is called Brad Smithfield,’ Gondal said.

‘I know him! I investigated that bastard three years ago.’

But Gondal already knew the background: a guy had been found outside a tower block late one night. Dead by cerebral ischemia: insufficient blood to the brain. Turned out to be a guy affectionately known as Rocker, because he was off his. He was an enforcer employed by an Edinburgh crime figure called Razor Randolph. He’d been investigating a robbery at Grafton’s nightclub, in which two masked men had burst in, shot the place up, and fired rounds at Randolph as he and his men sat in a booth with Grafton and his cronies.

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