The Devil Among Us

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The Devil Among Us Page 4

by Ramsay Sinclair


  We all paused, awaiting with hushed breaths for Rebecca's response. It was bound to be worthwhile.

  “Just because I’m not as irritating as you doesn’t mean I'm asleep or too quiet. I wait my turn,” Rebecca fired back.

  “No, that wasn’t what I meant--” Cillian began to stutter, shaken by her quick retaliation.

  “Women in predominantly male-dominated environments are often seen as quiet but are actually just as worthy. Take Katherine Freese, for example,” she suggested eagerly.

  “Er, who?” Cillian faltered uncertainty.

  “Katherine Freese. She’s a German theoretical astrophysicist, currently a working professor of physics.” She dumped a large book next to Cillian. “Try reading and educate yourself. It must be hard, thinking up new jokes to hide your lack of knowledge all the time.”

  “Uh, yes, miss. I mean, Rebecca,” he cowered, well and truly knocked into place.

  “Actually, could I talk to you, Rebecca?” I pulled her gently aside as the others spoke, so as not to embarrass her in front of them. “I’m sorry, but DCI Reid asked if you’d stick to the smaller robbery files. We have to spread out our resources and make sure we’ve got everything covered. You don’t mind, do you?”

  I awaited the answer nervously, expecting her to refuse. Bearing bad news was never easy and Rebecca’s face fell stormy. She was visibly disappointed. Personally, I believed she’d be a massive help to our larger case, as a smart woman, but someone had to complete the crappier tasks and that usually fell to the newest recruit. It was the way the ranks worked, and we had all worked our way up.

  “Yep.” Rebecca picked up another bunch of statements, dishearted. “But just so you know, I’ll get these robbery forms done twenty times faster than anyone else. Then I’ll be helping out with your drugs case. I’m a woman, not a halfwit.”

  4

  Hours later, I left our team in the more than capable hands of McCall. She would keep them all in check, and everyone had their assigned tasks, anyway. Albeit, they were moaning a lot today about various things, from the outcome of the case or trying to search for deep-rooted files.

  Flynn, Sam, and Robin weighed heavily on our minds as a collective. We all felt a bit guilty that the situation escalated in the way it did. We may not have pulled the triggers, but the actions taken by armed response reflected on us too. Flynn’s situation especially bugged us. Nobody could figure out what he was doing there, or why. And no matter how hard we deliberated, none of us could find any viable reason for Flynn’s actions. All of us were convinced that he used to be a clueless screw-up. He must’ve been a bloody good actor to convince us all.

  Trekking to check in on DCI Reid, I carried along a mug of coffee to his office that Rebecca also made. No doubt that he’d be extremely busy and overrun with tasks, and it was my duty as a DI to alleviate him of the pressure. I knocked twice on DCI Reid’s office, formerly Campbell’s.

  A murmuring in his distinctive, rich tone echoed into the corridor, and I presumed he was inviting me in. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, it revealed DCI Reid deep in conversation with a bulky man in overalls. They didn’t appear to be cheerful, nor in the mood for interruptions. DCI Reid’s face remained irritable, quivering in annoyance. It reminded me of a hamster chewing hay.

  “Oh, er, sorry Guv, I assumed you’d heard me knock. I brought you a coffee. I’ll put it down and then let you get back to it.” I awkwardly paced past the intimidating decorator and handed DCI Reid the mug. His sausage-like fingers gripped the porcelain, and he grimaced gratefully.

  “Aye, thanks, Cooper. You’re alright, I needed the distraction. Stay, I beg of you,” DCI Reid offered. “We’re done here.” He directed the final part towards the decorator who looked like he was about to argue but didn’t. He spun on the heel of his paint-splattered boot and marched out.

  DCI Reid let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “You alright, Sir?” By standing up, I felt like I was towering over him.

  It still took getting used to, seeing all of Campbell’s belongings replaced with tennis trophies and golf clubs alike. DCI Reid had a very expensive taste of sports. He’d invited us all out for a few rounds before, but I lacked any sports skills whatsoever and politely disagreed.

  “Please sit, Cooper.” He waved me to the chair opposite. Without hesitation, I sat in front of the large man. “I was beginning to lose patience with the oaf asking me why the funding is so tight. I told him it’s not my fault, it’s the station’s budget. Anyway,” he fumbled in a drawer and pulled out a silvery flask, “thieving scumbags. It shouldn’t cost much for a bit of paint. I’d do it myself if I had the time.”

  Shaking, he tipped some suspiciously brown liquid into the coffee. “Let’s call it Irish, eh?” He cheers’d the cup and screwed up when he tasted it, though not in repulsion. “After a day like today, we deserve to forget some of it. Here, have some.”

  DCI Reid wouldn’t listen to my protests and poured me a glass too.

  “It’s nearly home time for you guys, anyway. Relax,” he said, a twinkle in his greying eyes. “I won’t tell you off.”

  “Thanks,” I gave in, grimacing at the strength of the whisky. By any rate, I’d be unable to walk straight if I polished off the entire thing.

  The computer on his desk pinged.

  “At least you’re still connected to the modern world. We’ve been disconnected by the decorators in the main hub,” I said frostily.

  “I’d rather not be. I’ve got tons of emails coming through, as well as my wife messaging me asking what I’d like for dinner. She’s offering steak and chips or salmon, in case you were wondering.” DCI Reid relaxed in the seat, finally taking a breather from the hectic schedule. “I usually leave my phone at home and message from here. It’s tons easier than flicking between devices.”

  “I wasn’t, but now you’ve mentioned it, the steak sounds like a fair game. Guessing there’s no chance of being vegetarian at your house?”

  We shared a tired grin, exhausted by any means.

  “You’ve never met my wife. She’s a feeder. She’s heard a lot about you and the team. She’s looking forward to meeting you at the gala in a few weeks,” DCI Reid claimed, loosening his tie comfortably.

  With today's event and the many things we were overrun from, the police gala had slipped my mind completely. DCI Reid had brought the idea to our superintendent from his other stations. He’d solely organised a gala along with his wife where all the proceeds were going to be given towards our funding. By the police, for the police.

  “I’d completely forgotten,” I groaned. Such events weren’t really my forte, with the polite conversations and dancing. My two left feet weren’t great for that.

  “Well, there’s no getting out of it,” DCI Reid informed, a slither of coffee residue on his upper lip. “No matter what cases we’ve got on, or how much work we’ve got to do, we’re taking the night off to enjoy ourselves. It’s a few weeks away yet, so who knows what would've happened by then?”

  Sighing, I spotted a misplaced pen on the floor, ink beginning to dribble onto the carpet. “I don’t want to answer that question, in case I jinx anything.”

  “I especially want to see you there, Cooper. Mingling, interacting, drinking. Having fun. Bonding with the team. I’d be upset if you weren’t and the last thing you want is for me to be upset with you,” DCI Reid warned humorously, clicking his fat fingers.

  “Can’t argue with that, Sir.” I kept my vision firmly on the floor.

  “I know things like that aren’t your favourite,” he dipped into a softer, understanding tone, “but it’s in aid of you too. You’re a part of this station as much as the rest of them are. Bring along your girlfriend if you like. What was her name again?”

  “Abbey.” Whenever her name was mentioned, a stupid smile plastered my face. Things were going well between us, the longest relationship of my life. I'd certainly changed in the past year, and no longer was I the bumbli
ng, desperate, but tricky-to-get-along-with Finlay Cooper.

  “Abbey. That’s it.” DCI Reid raised his thick eyebrows in question. “You don’t show her off much. She’d like it, fancy dresses and champagne. Women nearly always do. There’ll be music too.”

  Another message pinged up on the computer for the busy man. After skimming over it, DCI Reid got right back on the topic.

  “I’d love to meet her, see the girl who’s gotten my DI in a frenzy.”

  “No, you’re right,” I sighed. Abbey would love it, she enjoyed dressing in fancy clothing and socialising. She’d begged me for ages to dance together, but I’d always curtly refused, never quite drunk enough to embarrass myself. “I do get worried that we’re stuck in a rut sometimes with all our work. The only thing we seem to have time for at the moment are takeaways in front of the television.”

  “Ah, the rut. Happens to the best of us.” Reid sighed in understanding. “Trust me, the gala is a perfect place to break that. It’ll be like the date nights we all used to have when we first started dating. Believe it or not, me and Iona use these social events as an excuse to reignite that spark. It’s necessary for relationships. Otherwise, they’ll fizzle out and die. That spark will disappear if you’re not careful,” DCI Reid advised. He was knowledgeable and affluent in many different areas. I put it down to his age and life experience.

  The clock on the wall showed it was nearly time to go home for the night.

  “Cheers, Guv.”

  He saluted, ready with more advice to leave me with. “One thing I learned is to compromise and to let the lady have what she wants.”

  “So… submission rather than compromise?” I wasn’t quite sure that’s the way things were supposed to be.

  “Now you’re getting the hang of it, Cooper.” He chuckled and moved back to the glimmering computer screen, typing away rapidly. Most of the CID team were in the corridor, starting to leave the station. We all had similar expressions on our faces, thoughtful and glum.

  “Bye, Sir,” Tony turned and nodded.

  “Go home and rest,” I urged. “Where’s McCall?” She wasn’t walking with the rest of our group.

  “She’s in there.” He grinned wider than a crocodile, although I wasn’t sure why.

  “Thanks.” I went to push open the main hub door and spotted both McCall and DC Taylor inside. Just as I stepped in, they engaged in a kiss, nothing overly passionate for they were aware they were still at work.

  “Geez,” My palms flew up to cover my eyes. I didn’t care that they were together, it just wasn’t what I expected to see. I could hear McCall gasp, then giggle, and I imagined DC Taylor had turned a brighter shade of red. “Bloody hell Tony.”

  I understood what the crocodile smile had been for.

  “Finlay, what are you doing?” McCall asked amusedly.

  I kept my hands firmly to my eyes and ended up tripping over the waste bin. “I came to get my coat, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not too cold anyway,” I rambled, trying to find the door again.

  “Goodnight, Finlay,” McCall shouted out for good measure.

  5

  Home wasn’t overly far away and as I rounded into my street, a figure covered in harsh shadows stood waiting outside. From the curves and height, it was distinguishable as Abbey. The light from her mobile phone lit up her face, but she was too invested in the technology to notice I’d snuck behind.

  A lengthy, calico coloured trench coat wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her snug. It suited her style, over the top, yet beautifully classic too. She didn’t see me at first, too preoccupied with texting someone. Stalking up behind her quietly, I lifted her up easily.

  “Guess who?” Her reaction was utterly hilarious, and she almost flung her phone into the air, flailing against me. Her heels kicked my thighs desperately. “Abbey, it’s me.” I set her down, coiling over with laughter.

  “Finlay?” She squinted in the night. “Oh, sometimes I really hate you,” she sulked, recovering from the fright.

  “I’m sorry,” I said but couldn’t help laughing still. “But it’s a good lesson to learn. Anyone could do that, not just me. You’re light as a feather. You should pay more attention to your surroundings, especially at this time of night. There are creeps out there.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Stop with all the police stuff.” She grinned, finally glad to be reunited. Her body relaxed in my grip, accustomed to who I was and utterly relieved that it wasn’t a random stranger. Abbey still had her work uniform on, dolled up in red lipstick, a frilled blouse, and a matching skirt. I helped her stand up on those precarious heels. I’d thought she looked nice this morning, but after a hard day, she appeared positively angelic.

  “You’ve got a set of keys. Or did you forget that you live here now?” I wondered.

  “Mr Impatient. I only just got home myself.” Shaking that pretty head firmly, Abbey rested both hands on my jacket and pulled us closer together. We leaned in for a small, greeting peck on the lips, just enough to warm ourselves up.

  “I heard about the shootings today.”

  “All in a day’s work, and that,” I brushed the concern away. “The papers?” I made a stab in the dark.

  “Not yet. One of my work colleagues had been held up on her way in. What happened? I only heard the gossip, and we both know that’s never trustworthy.” Lines of worry etched into her delicate forehead.

  Smoothing them out with the pad of my thumb and unlocking the front door, we continued the conversation in the warmth instead. “We had a tip-off for a shipment of drugs passing through the Bay from the borders. Our guess is that this lot was ready to be sold on to the dealers.”

  “Wait, these aren’t the people you told me about before, are they?” she checked, stepping out of the heels and instantly becoming inches shorter.

  “Yeah,” I was pleasantly surprised that Abbey had remembered. Sometimes it felt that I was boring her with all the work talk. “They came out shooting and putting all of our officers in danger. It was a shot or be shot sort of situation.”

  “Blimey,” Abbey whispered, sounding afraid. “I hope you were careful out there. That you didn’t do anything stupid or brave.”

  Hmm. Either way to answer this question wouldn’t paint an entirely great image of my detective skills.

  “I was a coward,” I sarcastically answered. “I stayed firmly behind for once. But a PC didn’t do the same and ended up getting shot.” I had to raise my voice as I grabbed us some drinks from the fridge.

  “Seriously?” Abbey appeared and resurfaced in the kitchen too. “Is he going to be alright?” Passing over the can, she did a jig to celebrate that I’d brought her favourite drink from my last shopping trip.

  “Well, he’s in hospital. From what I saw, it wasn’t fatal, he was hit in the shoulder. Still, I can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight.” The chilled larger tasted like heaven. “Anyway,” I changed the subject, longing for a break from work, “I thought we were getting takeaway?”

  Hopefully, I hadn’t mixed up my dates accidentally.

  “Let me know what happens.” She didn’t push the matter much further. “We are getting takeaway. Why?” Abbey wondered aloud.

  “You’re all dressed up.”

  “I’ve been at work all day. At our office, we actually dress smart, unlike your team,” she joked and slapped my chest lightly. “I’ve already ordered the food, and it should be delivered in an hour.”

  “An hour? That’s ages.” After working all day, my stomach prayed to be saved. It was only then that the messiness of the house irked me. If I’d noticed it, surely Abbey had. “Sorry for leaving the house in a mess.” Rushing around, I tried to pick up whatever was in immediate sight, objects like laundry that still had to be sorted out or unwashed plates. “I rushed out after you this morning and haven’t come back since.”

  The more we traipsed through the rooms, the more mess uncovered itself.

  “Finlay, it’s fine. I get that you’re a busy man. It
’s one of the reasons I love you,” Abbey assured and sat upon the sofa sweetly, for our night together was planned to go down without a hitch.

  Recently, every time we tried arranging a date night, something or someone got in the way. At first, McCall’s car broke down, leaving me and her stranded nowhere easily accessible. Secondly, Abbey’s notoriously sinister boss kept her on overnight, for a shift she wasn’t even scheduled in for. It was like a force had kept us apart, for no apparent reason. It was entirely frustrating.

  “Right, uh. I’ll grab us a film then,” I proposed awkwardly, and escaped upstairs to clean up. Glimpsing the sight of my worn down figure in a dusty mirror, plunged my self-confidence downhill. Brunette tufts stuck up vertically, defying every law of gravity available. Pinched cheeks and caved in eyes, created a tired appearance that was beyond my years.

  Fumbling through a small box of films, I picked out a random one, too preoccupied with my concerns to care. To match Abbey’s smartly dressed self, I rifled in my rackety wardrobe and pulled out a lesser wrinkled shirt as the top choice. It could get away with not being ironed.

  The doorbell flared throughout the house, nearly shaking the structure itself. “Blimey,” I mumbled and patted down every pocket in search of my wallet. I’d barely had a chance to open the door properly before a steaming bag of food was thrust into the gap.

  “A Mr Cooper?” The delivery driver made sure this was the correct address. It smelt delicious, as my hunger had only multiplied since earlier.

  “Yes, that’s me. How much do I owe you?”

  “Forty-seven-fifty,” the delivery driver replied, my ears nearly dislocating from my skull. Most I’d ever paid for a takeaway is twenty-five.

  “Right, uh. Yes,” I patted my pockets down for extra cash. “Let me get some extra cash.” By the time I’d collected enough notes, the food was practically cold.

  “Ahem,” The delivery driver coughed to hurry me along. “I’ve got other appointments to make.” Staying silent, I exchanged our meal for two with an extortionate wad of money.

 

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