The Devil Among Us

by Ramsay Sinclair

  “No, it was a steak bar,” Iona clarified amusedly. “Steaks and the occasional salmon for the poshies. We came from nothing then, our lifestyle has completely changed now.” She brought the final tray of snacks over to the coffee table, then settled herself on DCI Reid’s lap.

  He oofed but didn’t complain much, slightly jollied from his drink and the company. He held on tight to her sizable body.

  “Anyway, Alec walked in and asked for his steak rare. He was particular about the cut of the meat and the number of minutes our chef was going to cook it for. I honestly wanted to slap him for being so bossy.” She prodded his chest. “I couldn’t stand him.”

  “I didn’t know anything about steak,” DCI Reid completed the story at the same time. It was obviously their dinner party tale. “I was trying to look cool in front of her as if I was knowledgeable about food.”

  “To impress her?” Abbey couldn’t believe her ears.

  “Aye. She soon realised when I could barely stomach the food I’d ordered.” They stared at each other whilst talking.

  Iona couldn’t help but finish the anecdote. “I thought it was adorable that this big hunk of a man would act to impress a girl.”

  He’d been acting a lot more than any of us had expected.

  “We all change in front of people we care for. I know Abbey’s made me a gentleman since she took a chance on me. Lit a fire inside of me, so to speak,” I said. “Since we’ve been together, McCall and I have solved more cases than we did before DCI Reid showed up. She’s my good luck charm, as cheesy as it sounds.”

  Abbey set down her food and blushed as an aroma of flowered scented perfume lingered in the air.

  “Well, that’s lovely,” Iona glimmered and clapped happily. She was one of those romantic women who loved the very idea of love. Why she’d chosen a man of DCI Reid’s tough exterior remained a mystery. “What’s going on with you two then? Any plans to put a ring on her finger yet, Finlay? If you don’t, someone else sure will.”

  Abbey laughed the question off, yet I could sense some awkwardness there.

  “Iona…” DCI Reid warned. His grip on her generous hips tightened.

  “What? It’s only a question, they know that. Don’t get all grumpy.” She pecked his other cheek too, leaving many lipstick marks there. I was mortified and left Abbey to answer their insightful questions with more eloquence than I could muster.

  “We’re not, uhm… We’ve only dated for slightly over a year. We haven’t really thought or spoken properly about it yet.” Abbey blushed profusely, gripping the hem of her party dress tightly.

  Aye, so we were on the same page then. Thank God.

  “But you’d like to, wouldn’t you, Finlay?” Iona pressed again, making me wish the couch could open up and swallow me whole.

  Heating up from their burning stares, I hope it didn’t show how out of sorts their query had me. Flustered and sweating, I tried to be kind.

  “I haven’t ever thought about marriage,” I said softly, for the question took me by surprise. Few rarely did, and I wasn’t sure how to wriggle out of this one. “My parents' marriage wasn’t exactly an example of what love and compassion was based on. Marriage for them was a hindrance to their relationship, that’s when it all started going downhill. If you two were my parents and were married from birth onwards, maybe I would’ve thought differently towards the entire thing.” I downed the last of my brandy.

  Iona was crestfallen, and Abbey sorrowed by the story she’d never heard before.

  “Do you have a bathroom?” I asked, hoping to escape the awkward situation for a few seconds. I much needed to regain some sort of composure, for I didn’t want to upset Abbey by my own confession on unity.

  “Of course. Upstairs, and it’s the second door to the left.” Iona blinked sorrowfully towards me, ashamed of getting involved in our business.

  “That’s what happens when you're being nosey, you dozy cow,” DCI Reid said knowingly with an air of gentleness towards his wife. They didn’t really argue, they only appeared to bicker.

  “Are you going to be alright?” I whispered to my doting girlfriend, and Abbey didn’t hesitate to nod. I didn’t exactly want to leave her trapped in the lion's den alone.

  “I’ll be just fine,” she nodded sympathetically. “Will you--?”

  “Yeah,” I gave a nod that would imitate an enthusiastic one, for I had clearly been caught off-guard and knocked out of the stride we were getting into with regard to the prying into couples life. The tables had turned, and I’d been left answering their questions instead. The issue was entirely mine, and mine alone. Marriage had always been the one subject that truly frightened me.

  If downstairs of DCI Reid’s was posh, then upstairs was practically exquisite. Their mirrored hallway reflected a beaten, weary man which it took a while to recognise that was me. Stopping to examine the damage to my face, I saw that my neck had a shadow of bruising mixed in with shades of green and black. My once pale Scottish flesh had converted into streaky tones; ones that were grape like in texture. It was undeniably grotesque, and I was surprised the drunken constable had managed a coherent swing without falling over.

  Despite Iona explaining where the bathroom was, the corridor was too grand to distinguish one wooden door from another. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out where it was.

  “Where is the damned thing?” I complained underneath my breath and ended up opening a bunch of random doors in search of the toilet. I found a poky airing cupboard full of fluffy towels and mistakenly opened the entrance to their grand bedroom.

  No expense was spared in there either, for ivory chandeliers hung full of grandeur and fur throws decorated their king-sized bed. There were even more mirrors hung up in there too, a clear favourite of the middle-aged couple. Another detail caught my eye, that sparkled like a display in an expensive shop. They had a clear acrylic cabinet that showcased flashy jewels on prosthetic necks and rings on fake display hands.

  I stepped forward in awe, lost in all sense. I had access to DCI Reid’s most private collections and Iona’s investments in flashy jewellery. Was this DCI Reid’s reasoning for getting involved in the drugs, to pay for their expensive tastes? That’s if I could trust that the jewellery themselves weren’t stolen.

  My hushed footsteps padded along their bedroom carpet, within arms reach of their stunning collection. My breath fogged up the glass in misty curls. Diamonds, surely real, and pearls aplenty. Had they raided a pirate ship sometime during their early years? A cluster laid bare inside an elaborate setting, one of the many stones Iona loved to wear on her neck. Was it simply a status of their apparent wealth or did they simply love the grandeur?

  I couldn’t peel myself away from their extraordinary jewels until a phone beeped from their bedside table. The light illuminated their room once. Then twice again. It sounded urgent. My crippling paranoia and distrust I now had for DCI Reid made me imagine they were some kind of twisted text messages between their bent organisation, discussing their plans for Ryan Shaw, or even McCall.

  I was itching to see, to catch them in the act. To nail them instantly with evidence none of them could dispute. Texts could lead us straight to the phoney decorators and--

  “See something you like, Cooper?” DCI Reid’s stern voice knocked me out of my haze, forcefully capturing my full notice.

  “I, uh.” I couldn’t come up with a sensible excuse to cover up the obvious fact that I’d been snooping. “Trying to find the bathroom.”

  “So long as you didn’t think about taking a piss in here, Cooper. Iona would go crazy.” He leaned against the doorframe, towering tall with his spine erect and shoulders rolled back. It was purposely intimidating. “What were you really doing, Cooper? You can’t fool me.”

  “Admiring the collection, sir. I opened it thinking this was the bathroom.” I pointed at the pearls, trying to shift the heat from myself.

  “So you just invited yourself in?” DCI Reid frowned, reminiscent of a fat
her lecturing their child.

  “I… Yes, Sir.” We shared a frosty exchange before he broke into a wide beam. I didn’t know whether to be wary or relieved.

  “You’d be a lousy detective if you didn’t have a good nose around every now and again,” DCI Reid expressed and sprung up with a pep in his step. The alcohol was probably to thank for his mixture of emotions. He stared poignantly at the shimmering jewels, a strange expression on his face that I couldn’t figure out. “They’re captivating, aren't they?”

  “You can say that again.” The stones were unbelievable.

  DCI Reid licked his lips, gearing up to tell yet another story. “These were Iona’s mothers. That one,” he touched the glass and showed me a sapphire set of earrings, “was an engagement gift from Iona’s father. The opals were the set she also wore on her wedding day. They had a hell of a lot of jewellery floating around.”

  “Why? How, even?” my inquisitive self asked.

  DCI Reid shifted his body weight. Our reflection shone on the glass as two polar opposites. I was thinner and lankier, he was stout and rounded. “Iona’s father owned an oil company.”

  I whistled.

  “You’ve got it. They were stinking rich but always made sure to instill good life lessons into Iona. She still had to work hard. I respect them for that, otherwise, we’d never have met.” Of course. They’d found each other at the restaurant. “Apart from that, they hated me. Thought I was taking their daughter away. I suppose I did. I was a selfish young man and wanted nothing but her.”

  If I wasn’t enraged at the recording we’d seen DCI Reid take a critical part in and seen the fear in Ryan’s eyes, I may have cared more for his tale.

  “What happened?”

  DCI Reid chuckled, but not happily. “We moved a few times. I couldn’t find a steady job until the police department. I wanted to prove I could provide for us as a small family.”

  “And you got married,” I urged him to spill his secrets.

  “Unfortunately for her.”

  Seeing the wrinkled man with skin that looked tougher than leather made me inclined to agree. Iona may be deafening and vivacious, but her motherly and caring instinct shone through. Even after knowing her for one night, you’d think it had been years. She’d kept us fed, watered and carried the conversations.

  “They gave her an ultimatum. Give up her life to marry a factory worker's son or carry on living with them,” DCI Reid typically paced the floor and left muddy boot prints where he roamed.

  “And she chose you,” I could envision his issue here.

  “She’s a romantic,” DCI Reid swallowed the painful decision which appeared to haunt him up to this very day. “A few months later, they died. She never outwardly said she regretted her decision, but how could you not? She chose a man over her family.”

  This topic wasn’t my speciality. I’d barely had any experience with romance or the tribulations that came with it. Mine and Abbey’s relationship was fairly straight, thus far. We had the occasional spat but nothing more. We were two very honest individuals without weighty secrets like DCI Reid’s. His burdens could easily tear apart a marriage.

  “Iona inherited all the jewels as their only daughter. Her brother got the business, it was a different era back then,” DCI Reid established. “If she sold them, she’d have a fortune, but she can’t bear to do it. They’re the only thing left of her parents.” He shook himself out of the hazed memories. “Sorry, Cooper, the drink makes me a depressing sod. We all have more secrets than we’d care to admit. You’re lucky I like you, Cooper, otherwise I would've been angry at catching you here.”

  “She’s got an acquired taste,” I observed. “They caught my eye. They’re stunning pieces…” I trailed off, desperately anxious to find out if I’d crossed the line and offended him by mentioning his wife’s style.

  “Tell me about it. I’d prefer a simple house in oak wood and grey, but that’s what happens once you get married. You compromise.” I knew this was leading into something else by the way DCI Reid cleared his throat. “Iona apologises for the whole marriage situation down there.”

  “She wasn’t to know.” I waved the apology off, damned if I let him feel sorry for me. I’d forgotten about it already. “It’s my own issue.”

  “Everyone has troubles, Cooper. Life’s a mystery. Some aren’t worth finding out.” He straightened up, double chins on full display. He reminded me of a cruel caricature of Henry the eighth I'd seen at a museum. The image was only enhanced by the button threatening to pop undone around his swollen stomach. “The bathroom’s the next one along when you’re ready.”

  24

  “You’re lucky he didn’t kick you out there and then,” McCall gasped upon hearing the tale of last night's findings.

  “I know. I got away with it by the skin of my teeth,” I relayed the tale to McCall the next afternoon. We’d slept off the worst of the alcohol-induced funk, although Abbey and I sounded groggy.

  “All while I was still downstairs thinking you’d been locked in the bathroom or something,” Abbey told her side of the story, wrapped up tightly in a ropey dressing gown. “If I had known you were snooping, I would've worked harder to keep DCI Reid downstairs.”

  “It was on the off-chance.” I stifled a yawn. “I couldn’t pass the opportunity up.”

  McCall grinned, looking just as bad. She’d waited for us to get home last night, which ended up being much later than we’d envisioned. “Who would’ve known Iona had such an affluent background?” Their accents and taste of furniture gave it away, but McCall hadn’t had the chance to even meet Iona, nor see the house itself.

  Her own window had been replaced and locks replaced, but we all agreed it would be safer if she stayed where we could see her. I didn’t want to give our criminals a chance to do any further damage. Abbey sat on my lap and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck. She took a moment to savour the scent of my cologne.

  “We got their life stories, but we still didn’t get a confession,” she lay her head on my chest, careful to miss the cut.

  “Not yet. But I know more about his personal life now. Tonight will be a chance to meet some more of his friends, see who he surrounds himself with on a weekly basis. Gambling, drink and men. There’s plenty of wealthy people going there, what with the doctors and lawyers DCI Reid mentioned. They’re bound to know things about Reid that we don’t,” I shrugged hopefully.

  “You’re lucky you always were his favourite.” McCall raised her thin eyebrows. “He wouldn’t have invited me if the roles were reversed.”

  “Because you’re not a guy,” I said as though it was obvious. “But when there are only men around, there are different conversations of the sort they’d have in front of their wives. They talk about women, business, and propositions. Especially when there’s gambling involved.”

  McCall shivered in the afternoon chill. The day was grey and drizzly as seemed to be a regular occurrence in these months. “Perhaps they’re the sort of wealthy men who could afford expensive cocaine,” she proposed.

  “That’s what I thought. The type of crowds with spare money to waste on drugs. I'll keep an ear out for any code words or mention of shipments passing through the bay,” I said decisively and gingerly touched the cut on my neck.

  “Try to catch some names too, preferably those who are talking to DCI Reid the most,” McCall ordered. “If you get them, we can pull some files on them. I mean, you can. At the office…” She trailed off then.

  Abbey pouted sadly at McCall’s mishap. “As much as I liked Iona, I can’t stand DCI Reid. You’re one of the best sergeants I’ve met.”

  “Thanks, Abbey, but you’re being kind. I’m one of the few sergeants you’ve met,” McCall reminded us with a small grin.

  Checking the ticking clock, I only had a few hours until the card game was due to start. McCall had already done the honours of picking out another acceptable suit, a bit less fancy than yesterday’s one but just as stuffily formal.
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  “I’ll think about it like a game of cards. I’ll be two steps ahead at all times.” My comment was greeted by blank faces and light giggles from the two women. “What?”

  “That’s chess,” Abbey snorted. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  “Of course I am.” My jaw jutted out at their teasing. “The sooner you two are apart, the better. You seem to enjoy ganging up on me.”

  The house in which the card games were to be held was a sight to behold. Their front lawn smelled freshly mowed, and the hedges were trimmed to perfection. Sprinklers darted and threw spats of water over the green grass and kept it full of life and lusciously thick. The front of their home was stark concrete grey and had windows taller than two of me put together. They towered above my head, an ominous building where the types of people I barely mingled with were waiting inside. This time, I was completely alone and about to enter the shark's opened jaws.

  As I tracked up the neatly placed stone path with tiny lanterns to light the way, acres of garden unfolded on themselves. Males puffing cigars were donned up by the entrance in three-piece suits, studded in cufflinks and looking like they’d stepped off of the set of the godfather. They didn’t speak a word to me but sized me up instead.

  I guessed new members of the ‘club’ were held in low regard until they’d proven themselves a dab hand at the games.

  A gloominess spread over the top of my head as I entered the house where the colours of the wide rooms were all black. Black sofas, black walls, black floors and ceilings too. The list went on. Heavy, draped theatre-style curtains blocked any form of light or nosy parkers from seeing into the building. Large heaters warmed up the inside and a faint buzz of many dignified conversations took place at once.

  “Roy!” someone exclaimed in a posh accent, slapping my back earnestly. I turned around in surprise to see an elderly, stick thin man with a judgemental air about him. “Oh, my apologies. I thought you were someone else. You both look similar from behind.”