Team Spirit (Special Crime Unit Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

of tits on it. She said, ‘Chomba lives on
the other side of the estate, right?’
    ‘So
we’re told.’
    ‘And
he was in his flat when it was raided five minutes after the exchange?’
    ‘Yes,
he was.’
    ‘That’s
what I can’t understand, sir. We’re charging him with dealing based on what’s
on the CCTV. I’ve done car patrols on Shrublands, so I reckon with these
timings he could just about’ve made it if he was driving, but he’d’ve had to go
past the cameras. How come they didn’t see him?’ She shrugged. ‘Doesn’t add
up.’
    ‘I
don’t know, constable,’ Summerfield said. ‘Maybe the clock’s off. There was crack found in his rubbish bin
is all I’m saying. As we speak, minds greater than yours are pondering this same
mystery. If they resolve it, I’ll make sure you’re among the first to know.’
    For
a moment, as her eyes flicked downwards, he thought he’d achieved the
demolition without Schneider’s intervention. But she recovered quickly. She
looked him in the eye, said, ‘Thank you, sir,’ and looked down at her notes,
indicating she’d said her piece.
    Schneider
remained impassive, but Summerfield was annoyed to catch the surreptitious wink
shot to the young plonk by DS Wallace. An annoyance dwarfed by the horrid
realisation that the low buzz of conversation among the assembled detectives
had been triggered by her contribution. Coppers don’t exactly appreciate it
when one of their own gives their favoured suspect a free alibi, but neither do
they want a case that won’t stand up in court.
    Hardly
daring to look, he cast his eye towards the back of the room, where Zoltan
Schneider stood smiling humourlessly at him.
     
    ‘Sorry if I spoke
out of turn in there, sir,’ Lucky said to Zoltan as they waited for the lift.
    The
DI tilted his head. ‘Out of turn, Larissa?’
    ‘CID
briefing’s like an up-market version of parade, am I right?’ She looked away.
‘It’s not meant to be a debating society. I should’ve realised.’
    ‘On
the contrary,’ he said. ‘If we didn’t say what we thought, we’d never get
anywhere.’ He put his hands in his pockets. ‘I think Mr Summerfield will have
taken your remarks on board.’
    Lucky,
not reassured, gulped.
    ‘Don’t
worry.’ The hand on her shoulder belonged to Detective Sergeant Helen Wallace.
‘What Zoltan’s trying to say, and won’t because he’s a DI, is sod Summerfield.
You did well.’
    They
exchanged grins. ‘I didn’t hear that,’ Zoltan said.
    Lucky
blinked, glancing uncomfortably from one to the other. She was beginning to
feel overdressed. The man who’d turned out to be her DI was kitted out more
like a college lecturer, with a hairdo to match. Thick, black and unruly, with
strands of it jutting out in all directions like solar prominences, the hair
went some way towards cushioning the shock of the open-necked blue and grey cotton
shirt, brown corduroys and Hush Puppies he wore, but not far. He was small for
a copper, just clearing five eight in her estimation, and slight of build.
Zoltan Schneider didn’t even look like a policeman, much less an inspector.
With most detectives, however outlandish they looked, Lucky had always just
about been able to picture them back in uniform. Not this one.
    But
the authority he sacrificed by his appearance was more than made up for by the
man himself. He had a way of looking through his thick glasses, a dry, sardonic
way with words, and a strange half-smile through his wiry beard that made Lucky
unsure whether he was laughing with or at her. The minimal research she’d been
able to do through the grapevine had revealed his reputation as a brilliant
interrogator of suspects. She guessed that to get at all close to him you
needed the thickest of skins.
    Any
idea Lucky might have formed that Zoltan Schneider could only be one of a kind
was quickly dispelled. None of the team looked like coppers. For a start, most of
them were women. There was only one other man in