CHAPTER 4“What do you mean, you lost her?” Vic Simmons voice exploded over the bad crackle of the car radio. Simmons was in the process of concluding his lunch, a couple of particularly indigestible greasy bacon sandwiches purchased from the café opposite where he was parked. D.S. Donald Roth mumbled something about missing her at the traffic lights.
“The taxi stopped and the O’Donnell girl got out of it and just disappeared.” He uncomfortably cleared his throat. “Almost as if she had clocked us, Sir. Sorry, Sir.” The mumbled apology accompanied his words.
Simmons cursed vividly. “Not half as bleedin’ sorry as I am, Sergeant.” He paused, wiping the bacon grease from his mouth. “You mentioned something about a taxi. Where did the taxi take her?”
“You ever heard of a place call The Briar
