Free The Judgement Book by Simon Hall Page B

sex with a prostitute, and that was the reason he was being blackmailed.’
    That, thought Dan as he drove quickly back to the studios, was one of his masters sated. But despite being a senior detective, hardened by the horrors he’d seen and investigated and driven by his compassion for victims and commitment to justice, Adam was nonetheless often the easier of the two.
    Lizzie, though, was the definition of never satisfied. Dan often thought of her as like a nest of baby birds, no matter how many juicy morsels he brought she always wanted more and wouldn’t hesitate to produce a cacophony to demonstrate it. He once dreamt of finding an exclusive on a cure for cancer, complete with interviews with the scientists responsible and people whose lives would be saved, only to have her wanting an extra interview with some undertakers to emphasise the downside of the discovery.
    Dan found his expectations were not disappointed.
    ‘What the bloody hell were you doing?’ Lizzie yelped as he jogged back into the newsroom. He glanced at the radio-controlled clock. Half past twelve. Just an hour to edit the story for the lunchtime news. He had the structure and script for the report in mind, but didn’t have time to hang about.
    She stood up from her desk, looked taller than earlier. The other hacks pretended to be engrossed in their work, but Dan knew they were watching. Lizzie bawling out an errant reporter was a favourite spectator sport. He’d enjoyed it often enough himself. It was most entertaining, given the one proviso – that you weren’t the hapless victim. Today though, he seemed to have a target painted on his chest, and she was taking careful aim.
    ‘Don’t know what you mean,’ Dan replied, edging towards the edit suites. He could defuse her anger by revealing his scoop, but didn’t have the time. He wondered if it was more the case that he didn’t have the inclination. The best tactics might be to let her work herself up, then produce his surprise. The result could be wonderfully deflating.
    A sharpened fingernail began jabbing at the air, those thin lips working themselves into a blur. ‘I mean telling the cops to call a press conference. And then revealing the prostitute angle! The story’s running everywhere. Every hack in the bloody country has got it.’
    A stiletto ground into the carpet to complement the fingernail. She’d changed from the lower heels of earlier to four-inch stilettos, gleaming black and sharp as an icicle. Lizzie kept at least half a dozen pairs of shoes in her office and had been known to change them several times a day according to the oscillations of her mood.
    ‘I let you go help them to help us,’ Lizzie raged on. ‘Instead you end up blowing our exclusive!’
    He edged further towards the door. ‘Would I do something as stupid as that?’
    She didn’t answer, just summoned up a laser stare which suggested that was exactly what she thought. Dan raised his hands calmingly. ‘Look, I’d better get on with this edit. There was no way the rest of the media wouldn’t get on to the story. It’s just too big. The cops had no choice but to call a press conference.’
    Her lips tightened and Dan could sense the explosion coming. He continued quickly before the detonation. ‘But I can guarantee you I’ve worked it so I’ve got you an exclusive angle, which every other hack will be cursing themselves they missed. And even better, they’ve got no chance of getting it now either.’
    The stiletto stopped grinding the carpet.
    ‘Go do your edit then,’ she said menacingly, sitting back down. ‘I’ll suspend judgement, for now. But it had better be good.’
    It was, Dan thought, as Jenny edited the last shot of the lunchtime report. Even if he did say so himself, it was damn good. He wondered whether to give the Royal Television Society Awards Panel a call, to make sure they didn’t miss it. Perhaps it would be best to log their number in his phone. It felt like that kind of