Hostage to Murder by Val McDermid

day. I’ll be jazzed till bedtime at this rate,” Lindsay said.
    â€œWould you rather have something else? Only, Annie said that’s what you were on.” Rory looked momentarily anxious.
    She’s trying to make an impression, Lindsay thought wryly. “No, that’s fine. I suspect I’m going to have to have my wits about me to deal with you anyway.”
    â€œSo, you’ve decided to take me up on my suggestion?” Rory kept her eyes on her coffee, but Lindsay could sense the eagerness underlying the question.
    â€œI’m giving it serious consideration. But if it’s going to stand any chance of working, we’ve got to be up front with each other.” Rory’s head came up as she registered the seriousness of Lindsay’s tone. The banter was over, and it was time to get down to business.
    â€œPoint taken. So, what do you want to know?”
    Lindsay sucked some foam off her cappuccino and wiped her top lip clean. “My big reservation is that initially, stories would only be coming my way on the basis of your reputation. Which obviously means you get first pick of whatever lands on the table. I have no idea what that means for me. If I’m just going to be running around doing the dross that doesn’t interest you or that you think isn’t worth your time and attention, then, frankly, I’m not interested.”
    Rory looked wounded. “No, that’s not how I see it at all. See, the thing is, I already get more stuff coming to me than I can deal with. I end up selling stuff on as tips that I’d rather work myself, but if I’m in the middle of something big and I get a lead on a story that’s time-sensitive, I have to let it go. The way I see it, when a story comes in, whichever one of us is free to take it runs with it. Anyway, the reputation you’ve got, you’ll be pulling stories in yourself in no time.”
    Lindsay’s eyebrows shot up. “The reputation I’ve got? Come on, Rory, I’m hardly a household name.”

    â€œI’ve just been in at the Standard, passing a tip on to Giles Graham. He remembers exactly who you are. And you didn’t even work together. Your by-line will sell stories that I’d struggle to place. Lindsay, I’m not handing out charity here. You’d be doing me a favour by coming in with me.”
    Lindsay gave Rory a long, considering look. Sure, the kid was probably a bit starry-eyed about her, imagining a past crammed with glory days and twenty-two point by-lines. But surely that had to be better than trying single-handed to carve out a niche among the sceptical new faces that were running the newsdesks and magazine supplements these days?
    It wasn’t the hardest decision of her life. “OK. Let’s give it a go. A month’s trial, and at the end of it, either of us can walk away if it’s not working out.”
    Rory punched the air. “Yes! That’s brilliant, Lindsay. Hey, you won’t regret this, you know.”
    I sincerely hope not, Lindsay thought. But she stifled her remaining reservations and extended a hand across the table. “Nor will you,” she said.
    â€œSo. When do we start?”

Chapter 5
    Kevin followed Michael out into the street and sniffed the air like a dog in a new wood. “So this is Glasgow,” he said. “It’s not that different, is it?” There was a note of disappointment in his voice.
    Michael said nothing. He simply turned left and set off towards the bus stop he’d been told he’d find a couple of streets away. He carried his heavy holdall as lightly as if it held nothing more substantial than an evening newspaper. At the bus stop, he came to a halt, dropped his bag at his feet and lit a cigarette.
    â€œWhere is it we’re going again?” Kevin asked.
    â€œA bed and breakfast,” Michael said. “Argyle Street.”
    â€œSo what’s the