The Devil Among Us, Ramsay Sinclair [black books to read .txt] 📗
- Author: Ramsay Sinclair
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Nor McCall, come to think of it. We were partners until the end and I could promise that much. We were too accustomed to each other's methods, each other's thoughts. We were family, more than anything else.
Seeing our house looming in the distance, a light was still on in the living room. Either the girls were still awake, or they’d forgotten to turn them off. As much as they both held a place in my heart, I wouldn’t hesitate to chastise them about how much the electricity bill would cost if it was the latter.
Fumbling to fit the keys into the lock, I finally tumbled indoors and into the billows of warmth. McCall jumped at my arrival, jolting awake. She’d seemingly fallen asleep at the dining table, resting her elbows on the wood and head in her palms.
“Sorry for waking you,” I whispered, wondering if she’d be moody.
Surprisingly, she seemed alright. “Don’t apologize, Finlay,” she groaned. “It’s your home. I just feel bad that I’m still here.” She moved a bunch of papers from underneath her elbows.
“We’ve spoken about this before. We really don’t mind,” I insisted. “Why are you sleeping there, though?” I quizzically frowned. She looked like the Mad Hatter with those shockingly vivid and frizzy curls. “And drinking that much coffee will make you jittery.” There were about five empty mugs nearby.
“I’ve been on the phone to John for a while, trying to make a relationship work even though we’ve had to keep a million secrets from him. I know it’s for his own good, so please don’t say it. Then I was just looking over everything we’ve compiled so far. Seeing if there’s something we’ve missed. Map routes, the stations they’ve hit. That kind of thing.”
“You can take the detective from the station,” I goofed around. “Anything?”
“Nope.” She popped the P. “Please tell me tonight paid off.” I could sense the desperation there.
“It did.” I pulled up a seat and she would’ve jumped in excitement if it wasn’t so late at night. “Their handshakes.”
McCall visibly deflated and slumped into her seat at the anticlimax. “A handshake?” She checked she hadn’t misheard and even pinched her skin to ensure this wasn’t a kind of lucid dream.
“Not any old handshake. Thumb tucked in and firm. A weird sort of eye contact. Exactly like the on the tape. It’s from that club, I’m certain of it.”
“You think the criminals we’re searching for, are a part of their weird secret society?” she reiterated.
“I think so. There was a judge there, called Judge Ramsey. He thought I was someone else.” I turned around to see if my hunch was correct. “Do I look like any of the guys on our tape, from the CCTV footage? Don’t ask questions,” I begged, expecting McCall to say something sarcastic, “but pretend we’ve never met before.”
She surveyed and scanned the behind view of me, tutting every now and again. “You know, I’ve never really paid any mind to this view of you. But I suppose you’re quite stocky and have the same sort of hair as the guy that--”
“Gave DCI Reid the handshake,” I completed, already knowing what she’d say.
“Oh,” she gasped in surprise.
“The judge called me Roy,” I shared, confident that this was our lead. “Something Roy. No titles, so their jobs aren’t prestigious as the rest of ours were.”
McCall exhaled in relief, moving the papers by the air that came from her mouth alone. “That’s something to go off of, at least. Judge Ramsey and someone Roy,” she mumbled what she wrote down. “I’ll see what I can do from here tomorrow.” She meticulously wrote out her initial ideas.
“And I’ll search our databases, files, that sort of thing,” I confirmed, loving how we melded together as work partners. “See what we can dig up.” As I fiddled with the wallet that stayed in my grasp, McCall noticed the beautifully crafted item.
“What’s that?”
Placing it upon the table with a muffled bang, I stroked the soft leather. To afford such things was a luxury, one I’d wouldn’t get to experience. We did our job because it helped people and ourselves in a weird way, not the pay packet. At least, us non-corrupted officers did.
“It’s DCI Reid’s. He dropped it.”
McCall marvelled at the finishings “Anything--?”
“No, before you ask,” I interrupted kindly. “I checked it. Just all the normal stuff you’d expect.”
“Shame.” She yawned loudly and unexpectedly.
“You need some sleep and less coffee,” I instructed and picked up her spotted mug to rinse. “Go.” I practically to push her upstairs. “We can’t do anything dog tired.”
She padded towards the spare room that was now full of her clothes, papers and random accumulation of things. “Abbey’s asleep,” she whispered now that we were closer to our rooms. “She went up early. I’d suggest you don’t wake her up.” McCall silently laughed.
“Thanks for the tip. We’ve all had too many late nights, so I’ll be falling asleep before my head hits the pillow. Goodnight, McCall.” I headed into our master bedroom, which was nothing in comparison to the grandeur of DCI Reid’s. But it suited us just fine.
“Goodnight, Finlay.”
Abbey’s snores were a mixture of soft and delicate to loud and obnoxious. I knew she couldn’t help it, being knocked out from the gala and all the frantic buildup that surrounded it.
Her red tresses were spread over my pillow and she’d made the most of having an empty bed whilst I was out playing cards by lying in a starfish position. Her eyelids were squeezed firmly closed with remnants of eye makeup that she’d missed from taking it off in a state of exhaustion.
Planting a delicate kiss on her warm cheek and hoping I didn’t wake her, my heart skipped the smallest beat. She groaned deeply, having succumbed to her dreams.
26
As I entered the CID hub, the main thing I needed was tea. And lots of it too. Our team looked up at my languid pace and drooping figure, as well as my gaunt face and the hint
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