This Little Piggy Read Online Free PDF Page A

thing,” Clare said, quickly. “Can we send a photographer to take a pic of you? And Amy,” she added. “It’ll be in an hour or so?”
    “If you like.” Tina held the car door open.
    Amy didn’t move. “What’re you doing now, Clare?”
    Clare swivelled round in the seat. “I have to get back to my office and type up my story. And you’d better go and lie down, right?”
    Amy frowned.
    “You’ve been poorly, remember?” Clare reminded her.
    “Oh, yeah.” Slowly, Amy heaved herself out of the car. She stood waving at Clare until she’d driven the car round the corner and out of sight.
    Joe was lingering outside Clare’s office, drinking a can of Coke, his sleeves rolled up. “You took your time.”
    “I’ve been talking to that Amy again. She makes me laugh. Says she wants to be a reporter. I’ve got some stuff about the school assembly and how scared the local kids are. I just need to send a photographer round to get some shots.”
    Inside, Clare picked up the office phone and propped it under her chin, wriggling out of her jacket as she talked. “Anyone take some copy?”
    Joe scribbled down some of Clare’s quotes as she dictated her story over to head office. He waited as she chatted to her news editor, Dave Bell, and watched as she put the phone down and grinned at him. “He loves it. He said it was all really good stuff. Says I can knock off early today if I want, for working late last night.”
    “Jeez. My editor never says that to me. Swotty suck-up.”
    “Yeah, yeah. Tell me about the press conference.”
    “Not much to tell, except they’re not charging Jamie’s mum. The dad was there, Rob, and they meant him to make some sort of appeal for information, but he just broke down in tears and no one got a word out of him.”
    “Except us. First and exclusive,” said Clare. “What a team we are. So Chris Barber didn’t get much from trying to pinch my story.”
    “He’s a waste of space anyway. All he can manage is following up other people’s exclusives and pretending they’re his own. Chief reporter my backside.”
    “Yes, okay. There’s loyalty, Joe, and there’s layering it on with a trowel. I’m over it, I promise.”
    “You should’ve got the job though.”
    Clare reached out and took a drink from Joe’s can. “Yes, I should. But if I don’t get the front page today, there’s no justice.” She grimaced. “That’s warm.”
    “You will get the lead. There’s bugger all else going on. Even the picket line was quiet today.”
    “Speaking of which.” Clare told Joe about the man in the newsagent’s shop and his comments to Jai.
    “I still can’t see it,” said Joe. “Yeah, the strikers are angry about the men who’ve gone back. They’ll probably never have a pint with them again. But they wouldn’t do anything so violent. Surely. And especially not to a baby.”
    Clare shrugged. “That’s what Amy’s mum said. Then she didn’t seem so sure. The thing is, otherwise, there’s absolutely no motive, is there? If it’s not the mother run ragged at the baby crying and it’s not revenge on Rob, then what is it? It’s a completely senseless death.”
    Joe nodded. “I know what you’re saying. But it just seems like a stage too far. The miners are single-minded, but they’re not psychotic.” He drained the can, crumpled it and threw it into Clare’s bin. “Want to go for fish and chips then? Celebrate your splash?”
    Clare wouldn’t budge from the office until the delivery van arrived with the first editions. She took two stairs at a time on the way down and fidgeted while Jai cut the string around the pile of papers.
    “Here you are, Miss Beautiful,” he said, handing her the top copy.
    Clare held it in front of her and stared at it. She looked up and blinked as Joe came down the office stairs. “It says Chris Barber on the story,” she said. “They haven’t given me a by-line.”
    Joe swore and took the paper out of Clare’s hands. “But