The Silkworm

"Someone bloody famous," said the hoarse voice on the end of the line, "better've died, Strike."

The large unshaven man tramping through the darkness of predawn, with his telephone clamped to his ear, grinned.

"It's in that ballpark."

"It's six o'clock in the (expletive) morning!"

"It's half past, but if you want what I've got, you'll need to come and get it," said Cormoran Strike. "I'm not far away from your place. There's a —"

"How'd you know where I live?" demanded the voice.

"You told me," said Strike, stifling a yawn. "You're selling your flat."

"Oh," said the other, mollified. "Good memory."

"There's a twenty-four-hour caff—"

"(Expletive) that. Come into the office later—"

"Culpepper, I've got another client this morning, he pays better than you do and I've been up all night. You need this now if you're going to use it."

A groan. Strike could hear the rustling of sheets.

"It had better be (expletive)-hot."

"Smithfield Café on Long Lane," said Strike and rang off.
― Robert Galbraith, The Silkworm

I haven't read Harry Potter, but I certainly enjoy J. K. Rowling writing as Robert Galbraith. The Cuckoo's Calling is the first in this series, a book that completely absorbed me. The reviews about this second book in the series are even more glowing. Books to enjoy!

 

“Hard to remember these days that there was a time you had to wait for the ink and paper reviews to see your work excoriated. With the invention of the internet, any subliterate cretin can be Michiko Kakutani.”
― Robert Galbraith, The Silkworm