Read Online ThornyDevils by T. W. Lawless - Free Book Online

with every word. ‘Which admirer is it this time?’ he continued.
    ‘Would you believe they’re from a five-feet, eleven-inch drag queen?’
    ‘Whatever puts the wind in your sails,’ Bob chuckled, admiring the flowers. A line of ash fell on them. Peter flicked it away.
    ‘Purely professional,’ Peter replied as he put the finishing touches to the arrangement.
    ‘I didn’t know you had another side,’ Bob joked, adding in an effeminate voice, ‘Drag queens. Flower arranging. Should I be worried?
    ‘Just keeping Mad Dog happy,’ Peter retorted. ‘Apart from being mad, he’s also a bloody florist. And apparently I’m going to be working closely with him.’
    ‘No more than you have before.’
    ‘Good,’ Peter sighed. ‘To hear Mad Dog speak, we’re going into combat together. He’s taking the crime column far too seriously.’
    ‘He’ll be fine,’ Bob reassured. ‘And at least he won’t be squeamish. As long as you don’t mention the war,’ he chortled, slapping Peter on the back.
    ‘And this fucking scanner,’ Peter slid open the drawer and took out the scanner, still in its box.
    ‘It isn’t going to work in its box, now is it?’ Bob growled.
    ‘Do I have to keep this on all the time?’
    ‘Yes. Even at night. Sorry mate, it’s going to cut into drinking and girl time but I want this column to work.’ He pulled open the box and took out the scanner. ‘Count yourself lucky you’re not a police beat reporter. And you have to listen to everything, day in, day out. You can’t even have a piss without taking it with you. Keep it on the priority one channels. You know, the fatal shootings, the homicides. That has to be your focus.’
    Bob tossed the scanner at Peter, who thought about letting it go through to the keeper for a brief moment. He stretched out his hands at the last moment and caught it. Just in time.
    ‘Make it your friend. Between this and your sources, I reckon we’ll keep ahead of the competition. The Age won’t know what hit it. Hey?’ Bob slapped Peter so hard on the back that it stung.
    ‘Okay.’ Peter toyed with the scanner. He could feel his blood pressure sinking quickly into his newly acquired Julius Marlowe shoes, and had the sudden urge for a stiff drink, followed by a second. Was this the crossroad moment that he had dodged his entire long and undistinguished career? Either the enormity of the job was now suddenly dawning on him, or was he just plain shit scared.
    Bob detected conflict in Peter’s eyes and shifted subjects. ‘So, things didn’t go so well up there in the boondocks, I hear?’
    ‘I should have expected that Max Hillard would get off,’ Peter replied, snapping back from his thoughts with a jolt. ‘Now I’m thinking I don’t have a story. After everything we did, he walks free.’
    Deep in thought, Bob stubbed out his cigarette at a nearby desk. He lit up another one almost as quickly. ‘That’s easy,’ he proclaimed. ‘Don’t make Max the focus. Open the aperture a little. Frontier justice, Queensland style. A lesson for Melbourne. No names, no pack drill. That shouldn’t get the lawyers too hot and bothered. How does that sound?’
    ‘I get it,’ Peter rejoined. ‘Concentrate on police corruption. Its far-reaching effects.’ He began to type.
    ‘There’s no hotter topic than that at the moment. Everyone’s blaming the police for the spike in crime already.’
    ‘That’s good,’ Peter nodded, adding, ‘You’re fucking good, Bob,’ by way of emphasis.
    ‘In my day, son. In my day. Believe it or not, when my fellow journos were sitting in a pub, I was working the beat.’ A lazy smile stole across Bob’s face. ‘To be honest with you, you’re not a bad journo, Peter, but you’re bone idle. You have to pull your finger out now. This job could make you. No more titty boom-boom stories for you—this is the real deal. The Truth ’s going to make you a legend, even if it kills you.’
    ‘Great,’ Peter replied.