Read Dirty Harry 10 - The Blood of Strangers for Free Online

hit by stray bullets, people were eager to get hold of any loose valuables and cash before they could be retrieved by authorities and restored to their rightful owners.
    When the leaking bag was hoisted off the prostrate robber, a portion of his dinner jacket and shirt came with it, stuck to the canvas by blood. His entire back was shredded. He might be the first person Harry was aware of ever to be killed by women’s jewelry.
    With the boldness and ingenuity that had characterized her earlier actions, Ellie was somehow able to penetrate the mob of policemen, onlookers, and souvenir hunters to film additional footage of the dramatic events that would be edited, encapsulated, and commented upon for that evening’s local news broadcast.
    But while she coolly maintained command of her crew, she was careful not to let Harry out of her sight.
    Harry at the moment was being reprimanded by Bressler.
    “You weren’t given the signal to fire, Harry,” he was saying, doing his utmost to keep his temper under control. “There was an agreed-upon signal and it was never given. Why the hell did you open fire?”
    “The opportunity was there,” he replied simply.
    “That’s not the goddamn point! You endangered innocent life. What would have happened if you’d missed and that child had gotten hurt?”
    “But I didn’t miss,” Harry pointed out, too tired to argue.
    Bressler kept shouting, threatening him with suspension, though Harry had the feeling this was only his way of letting off steam. What with terrorists running rampant and policemen being shot on highways at night and gun-men shooting up the lobby of the Mark Hopkins, he couldn’t afford to lose any more men, no matter what the provocation.
    In any case, Harry could hardly hear him what with the ambulances screaming up Van Ness.
    At last, Bressler had calmed down enough to solicit Harry’s opinion as to who the dead men were.
    “Dinner jackets,” Harry noted. “I’d guess the gentlemen bandits. Or their clones.”
    “You don’t think it might be our terrorist friends? It would be helpful if we could tie this thing up.”
    “Life doesn’t work out that way, I’ve found.”
    Bressler regarded Harry carefully. “No, I suppose you’re right.”
    At that instant he looked to his left where several detectives and ambulance attendants were clustered, working out the disposal of the bodies and the stolen goods. They were thrown into relief by the lights of several camera crews, for by now all the other independent stations and network affiliates had managed to get representatives to the scene. They weren’t especially pleased to discover that once again Ellie Winston had gotten there before them.
    “That reminds me,” Bressler said, “There’s somebody I want you to meet.”
    “Oh, and just who might that be?”
    “You wait here, Harry . . .”
    “I’ve got to get back to the office and write up this report before it all just slips out of my memory . . .”
    “Stay there, that’s an order.”
    Within moments he’d returned with a woman Harry dimly recalled seeing somewhere. But he could not think of where exactly.
    “Harry Callahan, I want you to meet Ellie Winston,” Bressler said, “Anchorwoman at KCVO.”
    That was where, Harry thought.
    Ellie Winston was very pretty, but her face expressed deep skepticism. She smiled warily and took Harry’s hand as Bressler completed the introductions.
    “Ellie Winston will be covering you.”
    Harry gave Bressler a corrosive look but Bressler knew enough to avert his eyes.
    “What is that supposed to mean?”
    Ellie then broke in to explain that she would do nothing to disrupt his routine. “I will be as discreet as possible, you will hardly know I’m there.” Then, sensing that she might wind up in the middle of a heated clash between Bressler and Harry, she quickly disengaged herself, claiming the press of deadlines as an excuse.
    Harry very much doubted that Ellie Winston was the sort of woman who