The Quiet Ones by Theresa Talbot

Author:Theresa Talbot [Talbot, Theresa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788545341
Publisher: Head of Zeus

28

The newsroom was buzzing. The discovery of two more bodies swinging in Glasgow’s city centre minus parts of their faces had taken the investigation into Harry Nugent’s murder on a completely different path. Now it was all systems go to establish a connection between the three men. And from what she could gather, Oonagh was the only one so far to connect two of them.

‘I want this story.’ Oonagh had gone over all the arguments in her head about why she, and not the senior crime correspondent, should be covering this; she needed to box clever here. There was no way she could let anyone know at this stage about Petrie’s link to Nugent. ‘I’ve already established a relationship with Nugent’s widow…’ She was champing at the bit, but careful not to let on just how much Sarah Nugent had told her.

Alan wasn’t really interested. Instead he went for a bit of drama, rubbing his temple with his thumb and forefinger. ‘Oonagh, you’re actually the only person who can give me a headache before you come in the fucking door.’

‘Nurofen’s pretty good for that.’

‘You’re not the crime correspondent, Oonagh.’ She held her hands out, palms upwards, saying, so what? What she really wanted to say was, and the crime corr is so busy toadying up to Glasgow gangsters and taking backhanders that he’s letting one of the biggest stories of the decade slip from his grasp.

Alan looked up from his screen. ‘I can’t just hand over a story of this magnitude.’ He stopped and caught her eye. ‘You’ve got something else, haven’t you?’

Shit. Her poker face was letting her down. She shook her head. Tried to act dumb.

‘You know more than you’re letting on, O’Neil.’

‘Like what?’ There was no way she was admitting to how deep she was into this at this stage. Not until she had a cast-iron guarantee it wouldn’t be snatched from her.

‘Oonagh, we need to work as a team here.’ Alan was trying to appeal to her better nature. ‘If you’re sitting on something that could give us an exclusive…’ he faltered slightly ‘… then it’s your… your duty to pitch in here.’ Unfortunately for Alan, Oonagh had left her better nature at home that day. She’d heard some nonsense in her time, but this was in a class of its own.

Oonagh was no stranger to how these things worked. ‘No, Alan, honestly. Nothing more than a burning desire to do a good job.’ One look told her he knew she was bullshitting him, but she stood her ground.

Alan tried to read her expression, then gave up and wafted his hand around, which generally said, close the door on your way out.

The red tops were scattered all over the news desk. Each headline desperately trying to make a connection between Harry Nugent, Graham Petrie and Andrew Cruickshank. Whatever had happened, this was no small-time drugs deal or a petty gambling debt. That much was obvious. So far Andrew Cruickshank was the missing link. And why the hell Petrie had given Nugent the golden ticket was anyone’s guess.

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