"Quintin, Jardine - Autographs in the Rain" - читать интересную книгу автора (Quintin Jardine)

Mcllhenney thought he heard a faint chuckle at the other end of the line.
'Yeah, he's been busy down 'ere.

'Your guvnor called in a drive-by shooting last night from Oxford Circus;
round about eleven. He said that a lone guy took a pop at him with a shotgun
from a dark coloured Ford Mondeo. I'm just calling to tell him that we
haven't had a sniff of a result so far. Not a bleeding thing.'

DC Crowther coughed. 'The thing is, sir, copper to copper, my guvnor's
pissed off at your guvnor. Soon as his call came in last night we put a right
shitload of effort into it; we alerted all our patrol cars. They pulled over

everything within a three mile radius that even looked like a Mondeo. While
they were doing that we had an armed robbery in a burger place in Oxford
Street, a rape behind a pub in Great Titchfield Street, and a stabbing in
Soho. As a result of your man's call we were late responding to every one
of 'em, so we didn't feel a single collar.

'Tough, you'll say, but then we took a look at the scene of Mr Skinner's
so-called drive-by, and guess what? It was as clean as a whistle. Someone
takes a shot at you with a twelve-bore, even if 'e misses, you'd expect to
find traces of it all around.'

Crowther sighed. 'Nothing. No damage to any shop windows, or to the
news-stand your guvnor said he dived behind, and no lead shot lying around
either, none at all. There were no witnesses either, not a bleedin' one.'

The Cockney seemed to hesitate for a second. Tell me something,
Inspector. I've heard about your man . . . who 'asn't? Is he the nervous
type?'

'Not in the very slightest,' Mcllhenney answered.
'Well, my divisional commander reckons that he is. He was in here this
afternoon, effin' and blindin' about wasting police time. He reckons your
man's shell-shocked, or paranoid, or worse. He's threatening to send a formal
report to your chief and recommend that your man be made to have psych
tests.'

'Is that right?' the inspector barked. 'Just you tell him, from me if you
like, that he should wind his bloody neck in. If you don't fancy passing that
on, have your DI do it, but get your guy calmed down somehow or ...
Commander or not... God help him. If Big Bob said there was a shot fired,
then there was a shot fired, end of story. If he'd been carrying himself
you'd have had fucking evidence all right, with a bullet in it!'
He waved an apology at Lauren, as she frowned at him.
'You get that report squashed, Constable. You do not know with whom
you are dealing, and I mean that.'
Til do my best, sir,' said Crowther.