The Devil Among Us, Ramsay Sinclair [black books to read .txt] 📗

“Michael?” I called out, spotting him huddled up underneath a blanket we’d brought him.

He squinted, trying to spot who was there in the darkness. “Is that you, DI Cooper?”

It was bloody freezing underneath the shelter, how he didn’t freeze his knackers off, I’d never know.

“Yeah, It’s me.” I handed him over a takeaway cup of tea from our canteen, still piping hot and a sandwich for good measure.

He didn’t hesitate to scoff at the lot, and I let him have some fun with it. The indents on his cheeks were only pronounced by the lack of light under here, and all kinds of hairs stuck out from every surface available, lips, arms, forehead. The stench wasn’t exactly pleasant either, but I had to cut Michael some slack. He was doing the best he could without too many handouts.

“You’re not here just to feed me,” Michael stated wisely, pausing from his eager mouthful.

“You would be right.” I cracked a grin at his shrewdness, spotting the dirt littering his entire being. It was awful, having someone refuse help when they needed it, but I respected him for taking the harder road.

“I already know what this is about. A lot of people throw their newspapers on the floor, you know. It passes the time to read them.” Crumbs sprayed as he explained. “You lot were front-page news. I figured you’d stop by at some point. You want to find out what I’ve seen and heard.”

“Can’t fool you.” I got comfortable on the floor next to him, back against the freezing brickwork.

“Can’t con a con man either,” he said good-naturedly. I had no clue what he meant by that comment. “Well, there’s been a surge of people wanting cocaine. A few of the dealers were struggling to get their hands on enough before your new shipments came through.” He paused to sip the tea, warming his hands up on the cup first. “Dealers have complained about the price of these new lots, apparently they’ve ramped it up. As you well know, the dealers charge double of what they buy it for, and some customers simply can't afford it.”

It was a change to have information so readily available, without having to force it out of anyone.

“So?” I half questioned, half wracking my own brain. “What happens then?”

“They’re hitting different markets. Businessmen, wealthier people,” Michael said as he ran me through the basic process. He’d gained much more experience in these fields than any copper could.

“People with money, in basic terms,” I checked that it was correct. Michael held up his thumb in congratulations, overgrown nails digging into his palms as he did so.

“These are newer people behind this,” Michael continued, elaborating on the topic he knew inside out.

“Do you reckon they wanted to hit these different markets for a reason?” I shifted my ass uncomfortably on the floor, as it had started to get pins and needles. It wasn’t a pleasant place to experience them. A couple of teens dressed in hoodies passed by, sniggering and whispering nasty comments about the sight of us. I could see Michael visibly deflate at their sharp tongues.

“Possibly. The entire operation would earn an extortionate amount of money, entitling everyone to a bigger cut at the end of it all.” He didn’t know what to do with the rubbish left over from the meal, so I took it. I’d find a bin somewhere nearby.

I sighed. “Money always gets people’s knickers in a twist.”

Michael copied the sigh. “Don’t I know it. It’s important though, we can’t really live without it. I’m the prime example.”

“Hey,” I softened and patted his bony shoulder. “I’ve told you before, we can help--”

“I’ll stop you right there. I’m here by my own actions,” Michael spoke using his hands graphically. I had to duck to avoid being whacked in the face. “If fate is so kind as to give me a second chance, I'll take it and won’t screw it up. Fate will be the decider, not your handouts.

“Alright. But did anyone ever tell you that you’re even more stubborn than me?” I chuckled and Michael joined in.

“They’ve been recruiting, threatening criminals with a past,” Michael added nonchalantly, as a way to carry on the deliberation. He spotted the expression of surprise on my face and heard the gasp of curiosity. “The underground networks are all talking about it. But, so far, they’ve all been caught in the act. You really don’t read the news, do you?”

No doubt that’s why Flynn wouldn’t tell us how the offer came through to him about the drug job, and no wonder it was the first time he’d been involved in a crime of this proportion. The people recruiting these criminals were holding something against them all, something Flynn must’ve wanted to protect.

“But why didn’t the people recruiting the criminals just do the job themselves?” I spoke aloud, trying to make the connections in my mind. None of it was making much sense, like all the pieces to the puzzle were there, but none of them matched.

“Who knows?” Michael shrugged and covered his torso with the knitted blanket. “There could be many reasons. To cover their identity, as a front. To create diversions whilst something else is happening. They’re criminals, I could be here forever.” He laughed at his little joke.

“That’s true.”

“But they picked the worst criminals.” Michael grinned. “They’ve all been caught. Not only here, but there were some caught in Edinburgh a couple of months ago too for exactly the same thing as here. Then there was Glasgow too.”

Wow. It seemed like the news would be a necessary thing to read. It was usually a manner of pride that I’d avoided it as of late. I didn’t want to feed or pay towards someone like Georgina Ryder's lifestyle.

“When you say exactly the same thing, what does that mean?” I pondered, feeling a suspicious drip fall down my shirt. Shuddering, I decided it would be best to ignore it, instead