Read Online The Grass Tattoo (#2 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) by Catriona King - Free Book Online

was Christmas. He laughed to himself, remembering that in three weeks’ time it would be. He always lost track of time when he was preoccupied, and it had been a busy few months for murders.
    The day was abnormally ‘soft’ for the time of year, warm and wet; Northern Ireland’s climate was definitely changing. Global-cyclical or global-warming, who knew, but the guaranteed winter snow and summer light of his childhood seemed to be morphing into a milder year-round cloud. He missed the snow.
    An impudent gull had perched on the narrow sill outside and was pecking lazily at his window, with no hope of access. Craig smiled at it. The windows were heavy-duty and never opened; the force ever fearful that they’d throw themselves out after a bad day. He’d need a bungee rope for every murder.
    He stared past his companion and towards the sky, searching for inspiration. What were the Vors doing in Belfast? Northern Ireland had eastern immigrants like everywhere in Europe, but they’d had no briefings to suggest that the Vory v Zakone were part of that population. Davy was putting out the feelers in serious crime. If they were here, it was odds-on that the drugs, vice or fraud squads would know about it already.
    He smiled, remembering London, where practically everyone was an immigrant from somewhere, himself included. It made for a more tolerant society and Belfast could only benefit from that. He always felt protective towards anyone new; it was hard learning new ways. He wondered vaguely if Kaisa Moldeau found it a challenge, his mother Mirella certainly had.
    She’d come from Rome, the Eternal City, forty-three years before, when she’d married his Belfast father, Tom. It had been a huge sacrifice, only made bearable by her twice-yearly visits home and the constant stream of Italian cousins visiting throughout their childhood, improving their rusty Italian.
    They’d met when his scientist father was presenting a paper in Venice, in the same conference building where his mother had been a pianist. And, as she’d never tired of telling them, it was love at first sight, or ‘amore a prima vista’ as she much preferred to say. He smiled to himself; they were an old married couple now, living in the quaint town of Holywood, ‘home of Rory McIlroy’, one of Northern Ireland’s favourite golfers.
    He shook himself back to business. He still felt that he was missing something, but what? After a minute chasing the thought he gave up to try again later, knowing that he should return the phone message that he’d received earlier. He hesitated for a moment and then quickly lifted his mobile before he changed his mind. Not from any lack of inclination, but from caution.
    It was answered in three rings and the familiar clear Anglo-Irish voice of Julia McNulty answered warily, recognising his number.
    “D.C.I. Craig. Hello.”
    “Hello, Julia.” Hoping that she would follow his informal lead. She didn’t.
    “Thank you for returning my call, D.C.I. Craig. Would it be possible to get a copy of the Adams’ file?”
    He knew that he deserved her frostiness, he’d hurt her. She was a beautiful woman and he’d foolishly risked a dinner that could have led to more, if his past hadn’t prevented it. But it had.
    She knew why. She understood that he still had unfinished business with his ex-fiancée Camille. She understood, but that didn’t mean that she was happy about it.
    He picked up the conversation from her lead and it became a formal call, until with all the business done, she made to go. He stopped her, gently.
    “Julia, I’m sorry that I hurt you.”
    Her reply came quickly, and coldly. “I can assure you that you didn’t.” But he had.
    “I just didn’t want to embroil you in my mess, you know that.”
    “I’m fully aware of the facts, sir.”
    Craig could feel his frustration rising. “Oh, for God’s sake Julia, talk to me.”
    “We have nothing to talk about, sir.”
    “Yes, we have. We have to work