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

ruins, face becoming redder at the sight of the torn-apart home. The tiny garden gate, which led up to the small stone pathway, swung open loudly. Scratches covered McCall’s softened hands as she tried to scrabble with the worst of the glass, pin pricking her thumb.

“McCall, don’t. We’ll get someone to sort this out, I swear.” Gently taking a hold of McCall’s elbow, I slowly led her inside. Even I hadn’t fully braced myself for the rest of the mess. Someone had hunted for something or was out to give McCall a jolly good scare. Uniformed officers wearing fluorescent vests crawled throughout the layout of the rooms and patted McCall’s back sympathetically as we walked by. “Just be careful.”

“Careful?” she managed a tiny mumble. “There’s police wandering around my house, and all my belongings are either broken or lost.” She erratically listed off a whole host of reasons not to stay calm.

I spotted the tail end of DCI Reid’s coat upstairs, and we passed a few PCs who were standing on the muddy, carpeted stairs.

“Guv,” I alerted them of our presence. Tony and Rebecca riled around too, grimacing in sympathy at the sight of a lost and saddened McCall. They both looked equally upset by the sights that surrounded us. “What’s happened here? Apart from the obvious, I mean. Why was CID called here?”

Questions upon questions were brimming in my mind, stinging at the injustice of it all. McCall was the last person on earth who deserved this. Someone like me, however, probably would deserve it. I’d hurt more people in the past than McCall had in her entire life.

The state of the bedroom was much worse, and McCall let out a shocked yelp when she saw it. Still, she did extremely well to hold in the tears. Furniture had been chucked and upturned everywhere, whilst folks were doing their best to straighten things up.

Apart from being there to comfort McCall, CID didn’t really deal with break-ins. Not unless they were connected to prior intelligence we had or an MO of sorts.

“It’s not looking good, I’m afraid,” DCI Reid said quietly, rounded body barely fitting in between the door frames. “It was your neighbours who raised the alarm, so to speak. Of course, uniform got here first and expected it to be quite a simple call. Turns out, it isn’t as easy as they’d expected,” DCI Reid’s frown nearly cut his weathered forehead in half.

“What isn’t quite as easy as they expected?” I interjected impatiently. Protectively even. As much as McCall was a work partner, she was also a kind of sister to me. We wound each other up, shared fond memories and almost always made our own enjoyment wherever we went. To see her heartbroken like this wasn't easy.

McCall’s sunny disposition had well and truly disappeared. The buggers who broke in deserved my hands around their neck and tightly too.

Tony, who was towering above the CID group, cleared his throat expectantly. A few stains covered the skinny tie around his neck.

“It seems they broke in for a reason.” There was a plastic evidence bag clutched firmly in his grip. We didn’t notice it before, presumably too preoccupied with the injustice of the break-in. Tony raised the bag up higher, for McCall and me to take a look over. There were assorted phones, ranging in price points and makes. Collected together in the tiny plastic bag, there were well over a handful.

“Old phones,” I whisked the bag into my own grip and peered closer at the array of technology. “Is that supposed to be impressive or something? Everyone keeps some of their old phones. We forget about them, that’s all. It’s only natural.”

“They’re not mine,” McCall interrupted, nostrils flaring in indignation. Her attitude was beginning to match her mane of ginger hair. “I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

If they weren’t McCall’s and they appeared tonight, then that could only mean one thing.

“This is why they broke in. To plant them here?” Whoever was supposed to do the job subtly had clearly failed their anointed task. I felt my heart sink when imagining these criminals going around the bay and planting evidence in a respected superiors house. There were lines that shouldn’t be crossed, and this was the prime example.

“They’re stolen goods, Sir.” Tony switched his stance, deflating at the nature of the crime that faced us. “Petty technology from various towns. Not serious enough to raise many alarms beforehand, but stolen all the same.”

A crash bellowed from the opposite side of the bedroom, and a PC apologized for tripping over a fallen lamp. McCall’s jaw locked at the second round of smashed glass but appeared to have disconnected from the scenario altogether. Whispers of cool air escaping through the broken window sent goosebumps up my arm, and all the hairs stood on edge.

“Planting stolen technology? If they wanted to get away with it, they shouldn’t have broken the window. It’s a bit of a giveaway.”

“Something’s got them spooked,” DCI Reid agreed, just as visibly shocked as we. “Probably spotted a neighbour.”

“But they’re not just any old stolen goods, sir. And sarge,” Tony added and gently stood back to let Rebecca chime in. “I’ll let Rebecca explain, as it is her area of expertise.”

What were they talking about, areas of expertise? McCall’s indicolite coloured eyes held both tears and extreme fury. Rebecca empathised with McCall and exchanged a quick hug.

“Bet you’re glad I’m working this case now too,” she spoke to me. “Otherwise, you guys wouldn’t have noticed the connection.”

“Connection?” My fists balled at the lack of information we were receiving. I wanted facts, not encryptions and riddles.

“Those robbery files I was sorting out via instruction,” the leggy brunette reeled off efficiently, jogging our memories. “The very first phone stolen was on the same date as the setup in Glasgow. Originally, I thought nothing of it, believed that it was a coincidence, you know how it is. But now... I’m not so sure.”

I caught onto the direction this was