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

the Guv lectures me about slacking,” I joked, much to the amusement of the superintendent. He let off a hearty, rich chuckle. It was surprising, for I hadn’t really heard him laugh before. Wait until McCall found out I’d made him laugh. “See you in a bit, DC Taylor. And you, Sir.”

“I’ll see you at the gala,” he curtly informed, finally allowing me to leave.

No sooner had I escaped the company at the cafeteria, another bumbling person stopped me in my tracks. Destiny was making sure I had no time for myself today. This time around it was Dora, her smart shoes scuffed around the edges. She had half chased me down the thin passageway.

“Oi, Cooper!” Her ragged breathing didn’t sound very healthy.

Stopping in wait for the plump lady, I sighed. “DI Cooper, Skip. You’ve got to start calling me that.”

“Whatever.” She couldn't care less. “Help me out, would you? I found these loads of newspapers shoved in the bathrooms.” The heavy ton of papers were unexpectedly thrust into my arms. “Even though those bloody decorators have gone, their mess is everywhere.”

“I know.” I stopped myself from complaining and followed her to the reception. “We keep finding hammers and paintbrushes left behind in our offices.”

“It’s ridiculous,” Skipper fumed, many wispy hairs standing on edge. It looked as though she’d grown devil horns overnight. “The people in this station have gone crazy.”

“What do you mean?” She appeared angry at the world itself. Stressed, if I didn’t know any better.

“First the mess, then the shooting. And now we’ve even got our own officers acting dodgy. I caught the bugger rifling through our front desk after I came back from my break yesterday. He should be taking it easy after that kind of injury,” Skipper ranted and raved whilst shredding the newspapers one by one.

“Who are you talking about?”

A local kid started shouting profanities at an officer. No doubt they were fighting against a petty charge they’d received. Some people treated us disrespectfully when caught committing a crime.

Scratch that, the majority of people did.

“That PC who got shot,” Skipper tutted like I’d missed something, checking to ensure their heated interaction didn’t go much further. Skip would always step in if need be, for she was a feisty woman. “Ryan Shaw, you twit, keep up. You’re supposed to be smart, ain’t ya?”

“Hey, watch it. I am smart.” But I was certainly missing something. “Why was he shifty? I don't understand.”

“Caught him rifling in the CCTV tapes.” She pointed towards a bunch of burned CDs of specific incidents captured on tape. “He walked away with something in his hands, but I didn’t see what it was. Although my best scarf did go missing the other day. I asked Ryan what he was doing here, but he wouldn’t talk.”

“I’ll find out for you, Skip,” I promised, curious to find out for myself too.

Either Ryan liked wearing silken scarves, or he was hiding something.

18

I knocked on the door to the PC’s main hub. Much like our own, It had a few scattered desks and a pokey staff kitchen attached. Seemingly, the officers were still sitting down in the canteen and eating their rolls or attending calls. Nobody was there to invite me in, so I decided to go ahead, anyway. There simply weren't enough hours in a day to waste.

Ryan’s desk wasn’t hard to spot, choc a block with balloons which were beginning to deflate and empty chocolate wrappers discarded in the bin. Among the tabletop, was plenty of forms and files alike. I guessed light duties weren’t as simple as they sounded. A phone rang loudly, scaring me half out of my wits.

I patiently waited for Ryan to return here so that I could ask a few questions and find out exactly what he was hiding from Skip. Meanwhile, I had a look at the strewn papers littering the desktop. There were only various statements and reports, nothing suspicious.

Hopefully, Skipper wasn’t mistaken, and her eyesight wasn’t in decline. Otherwise, this would be a complete waste of time. But if Ryan wasn’t hiding something, surely he would’ve been honest about what he was doing in the CCTV storage?

When I stretched out and shuffled on my feet, the corner of a stuffed bag caught my eye. Peeking out from behind the desk, the canvas style bag seemed about to burst at the seams. Whoever had tried to hide it hadn’t done a very good job.

Despite the feeling of guilt at sneaking around, my personality was a nosey one. I couldn’t change the habit of a lifetime and I’d been working for CID long enough to know when an object wasn’t supposed to be found. Taking the opportune instant, I dragged the bag out to rest by my feet. What else could I do? Nobody was here, and I was a DI. My job entailed discovering the things that were meant to stay concealed,

“What are you hiding?” I whispered, flinching at every far off noise. Knowing that time was of the essence, I knuckled straight down to it before anyone could catch me. Unzipping the metallic fastening revealed a bunch of screwed up papers.

Uncrumpling one, I read the typed font with haste. What I scanned through filled my core with dread. All too soon, I heard hurried footsteps advancing across the corridor, so I crumpled the typed message into my pocket for later. Calculating that there were roughly twenty seconds until the person reached this office, I had enough precious seconds to thrust my hand back in and grab a rectangular object that brushed against my fingertips.

“Oh!” a PC exclaimed, getting a shock at seeing me in their office. “DI Cooper. Can I help you?” Their expression changed to one of confusion.

“No, thanks.” I played it cool, although my heavy breathing and red face was a giveaway. “I was looking for a pen.” That was officially the worst lie of my life. “I gave it to Ryan this morning. It’s special, you see. Anniversary present from the girlfriend…”

I