Read Online First Death In Dublin City (Thomas Bishop Book 1) by Colm-Christopher Collins - Free Book Online

not.’ Said Tommy, glassy eyed at the thought.
    ‘Sounds fabulous honey.’ Said she. Tommy just ignored her use of that word.
    ‘Oh, sorry, I forgot you hate that word.’ She said.
    ‘It’s fine.’ Tommy said.
    ‘No don’t be like that.’ Jennifer said.
    ‘I’m hardly being like anything, am I?’ Tommy said.
    ‘You seem stressed, even more stressed than usual.’ She said, running her hand down his sternum.
    ‘It’s Amy Clancy. I keep fucking seeing the same photo of her whenever I close my eyes.’ Said Tommy.
    ‘I thought you said you were certain she would just turn up.’ Said Jenny.
    ‘It’s been too long. Far too long. Something’s happened to her. I know it.’ Said Tommy.
    ‘You’re beating yourself up over something that didn’t happen. You’re a homicide cop, I thought you’d be used to this kind of thing?’ Asked Jennifer.
    ‘But she was so fucking alone in the world, no one loved her, no one wanted her until she went missing. And now I have her mother calling me every three hours to ask where she is. I don’t even have the balls to tell her to fuck off like I usually would; and each time I tell her I’m getting closer. I’m not getting any closer. She has to come back alive.’ Said Tommy.
    ‘I wish I could stay Thomas, I really do. But I’ve a constituency meeting in the morning, so I do have to go.’ She said.
    Tommy reached out and took her hand in his.
    ‘At least stay until I fall asleep.’ Said Tommy. And Jennifer’s face scrunched up in concern.
    ‘I dunno.’ She said. Tommy knew what it was: at least when she was home within reasonable time limits, Fionbar could pretend that she wasn’t having an affair. Tommy, however, was feeling rather selfish.
    ‘Please.’ He entreated upon her.
    She smiled.
    ‘Ok, you fall right asleep.’ Said she, and Tommy fell back into the pillows while Jennifer lightly stroked his scalp and hummed to herself a relaxing lullaby, and within minutes Tommy was gone.
    12
     
     
     
    The phone buzzed on the tabletop, puncturing Tommy’s serenity.
    ‘Tommy, you there?’ The voice on the other end asked. Sporadic gusts filled the background; the speaker was in the same rain that was hammering off Tommy’s window.
    ‘Yup, who’s this?’ Tommy replied sleepily, settling into his pillow softly.
    ‘It’s McCabe; I’ve something here for you.’ The voice on the other end said.
    Garda Sean McCabe. Tommy’s opinion of him being a bit of a spare was not going to be improved by calls at six o’clock in the morning.
    ‘Can’t it wait?’ Tommy asked.
    ‘It’s a body, dumped in Glenaulin Park.’ McCabe said.
    Glenaulin Park. Given that it was just at his doorstep Tommy could understand why McCabe would call him.
    ‘Then you call whoever’s on duty in Ballyfermot McCabe.’ He said, closing his eyes and preparing to doze off again.
    ‘I know but Tommy the body’s a girl.’ Said McCabe.
    ‘So what?’ Tommy said.
    ‘She looks just like that photo you sent around.’
    Tommy sprang up into sitting position. After a week, Amy’s disappearance finally made it to the front pages of even the broadsheets; with the tabloids running pages of coverage of the missing blonde southsider. As was procedure, photos of Amy had been released to the media, and it was those that Tommy assumed McCabe was talking about
    ‘Describe her to me Sean.’ He said.
    ‘She’s not hit puberty yet, between nine and thirteen I’d say; blonde hair.’
    Fuck, maybe it was Amy.
    ‘I’ll be there in five.’ Said Tommy, and he hung up.
    Tommy closed his eyes then opened them, trying his best to dispel the oncoming sleep. He reached out with his left hand but found only empty bed space; Jenny must have left in the early hours of the morning.
    He jumped out of bed and threw on a crumpled pair of Levi jeans he had bought in the late 90’s at the bottom of his bed. Downstairs in the conservatory, Morris was sleeping on an old pillow, the pit bull’s jaws