Whisper For The Reaper, Jack Gatland [good books for high schoolers txt] 📗

for ‘signed off until we know what to do with you’. His relationship with East End crime lords, one that had existed for several decades now was finally brought out into the open after he’d turned to them for help. Internal Affairs were already digging into that, seeing what else could be found. And Monroe knew there was a lot down there that could be dredged up about him.

And so he’d kept a low profile. He’d visited the Temple Inn building earlier that day on a whim, but had chickened out of approaching Anjli and Billy when he saw them there. They had enough to deal with without him arriving and ruining their day.

He’d already ruined their careers.

There was a knock at his door; he was in the kitchen, pouring out a mug of tea when he heard it and, mug in hand, walked to the door, opening to reveal Doctor Rosanna Marcos in the doorway.

‘I didn’t realise it was Halloween yet,’ he said, nodding at her wild and frizzy black hair. ‘Trick or treat happens at night.’

‘You’re a funny man,’ Doctor Marcos ignored the jibe, walking past Monroe, taking the mug of tea as she did so. ‘Don’t listen to what everyone else says.’

Monroe shut the front door and walked back into the living room, where Doctor Marcos was now sitting on the sofa, sipping at the tea.

‘Ugh. No sugar,’ she complained. ‘You know I like sugar.’

Monroe bit back the urge to reply, instead walking into the kitchen and returning with the pot of sugar and a spoon, placing them both onto the coffee table in front of her.

‘Is there a reason for your visit?’ he asked, a little too politely.

‘You’re having nightmares,’ Doctor Marcos sipped at the tea, nodding at the correct taste. ‘You’re shouting out names in your sleep. You’re reliving moments.’

Monroe stopped at the door to the kitchen. He had indeed been having nightmares, but he hadn’t spoken about them to anyone. ‘And how would you know this, lassie?’

‘First off, I’m not anyone’s ‘lassie’,’ Doctor Marcos replied. ‘And secondly, I used your sleep app.’

‘The one you told me would monitor my heart rate at night?’ Monroe asked, appalled. ‘You used it to spy on me?’

‘Of course I did, you bloody idiot,’ Doctor Marcos snapped. ‘I’m worried about you. You’ve got multiple cases of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and you’re not doing anything to fix it. So when you sleep, the app also records noises you make in your sleep. You’re quite vocal these days.’

Monroe walked to the sofa and slumped down onto it. ‘It’s the same dream. I’m in the office,’ he admitted. ‘I see Frost. And I know what’s going to happen and I try to change it, but my body won’t listen.’

‘I know,’ Doctor Marcos replied. ‘And it’ll probably get worse before it get’s better. And it doesn’t help that you’re stuck here with nothing to get your teeth into.’

‘I went out yesterday,’ Monroe argued. Doctor Marcos shrugged.

‘You want a medal for that?’ She picked up the mug of tea again, blowing on it. ‘You need to decide what you want to do, Alex.’

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Monroe was defensive now, his body language altering as the conversation changed.

‘I mean, I know what you were doing the night Frost attacked you,’ Doctor Marcos said softly, keeping her gaze on the mug rather than at Monroe. ‘I know you were writing a resignation letter. And sure, you can keep on with this lie that you can’t remember, but we both know that you can.’

There was a long moment of silence.

‘Bloody Billy,’ Monroe muttered.

‘Don’t be harsh on Billy,’ Doctor Marcos looked to him. ‘He’s worried about you.’

Monroe nodded slowly. ‘After Birmingham, with everything that happened, I thought I’d lost my edge. That I shouldn’t be out there. It wasn’t a resignation letter, more an ‘I’d like to consider early retirement’ letter.’ He looked at Doctor Marcos. ‘But then everything happened so quickly, and I realised that my job, all this, it was almost taken from my grasp without my permission. And I realised I needed it, Rosanna. I needed to be on the thin blue line, working cases, solving them. And you can’t do that when you’re retired.’

He rose now, pacing as he continued.

‘But it’s out of my hands now. Chances are that they’ll can me. And even if they don’t, there’s talk of the Temple Inn unit being expanded. We’ve shit the bed a couple of times, to be honest, but we’ve nailed some pretty bloody big scumbags. They can’t just remove us. But they’re sure as hell not going to promote us.’

‘You think they’ll bring someone in above you?’ the comment surprised Doctor Marcos. ‘A Detective Superintendent?’

‘I’d say so,’ Monroe stopped pacing as he thought. ‘It’ll be too big for a DCI to run. What I need to do is find someone to take the spot who we can work with.’

‘Why don’t you go for it?’

Monroe grinned now. ‘Christ, woman. I’d hate it,’ he said. ‘Once you wear the uniform, and sit in the office, you never get to play outside.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Did you ever watch Star Trek?’

‘Of course,’ Doctor Marcos replied haughtily. ‘Doctor McCoy was the reason I chose my profession. Why?’

‘Captain Kirk,’ Monroe explained. ‘He was a great Captain, you know? He saved the universe loads of times. And then the show ended and a few years later they did the movies. But now Kirk? They promoted him. He was an Admiral.’

‘I’m loving the fandom here, but I have no bloody idea where you’re going with this,’ Doctor Marcos sipped at her tea as she watched Monroe.

‘Because now the movies had a problem. Admirals don’t captain star ships.’

‘But it’s made up.’

‘Bear with me,’ Monroe held a finger up. ‘Kirk couldn’t captain the Enterprise. So they give him a reason, as Admiral Kirk, to be there. And lo-and-behold, during the film he ends up taking the Captain’s chair again. They do it again in the second movie.