The Devil Among Us Ramsay Sinclair (librera reader .TXT) 📖

perked up, having finished staring at her in a daze. “So, you’re not asleep, after all?” he interjected his views and attempted to joke when it wasn’t entirely needed.

We all paused, awaiting with hushed breaths for Rebecca's response. It was bound to be worthwhile.

“Just because I’m not as irritating as you doesn’t mean I'm asleep or too quiet. I wait my turn,” Rebecca fired back.

“No, that wasn’t what I meant--” Cillian began to stutter, shaken by her quick retaliation.

“Women in predominantly male-dominated environments are often seen as quiet but are actually just as worthy. Take Katherine Freese, for example,” she suggested eagerly.

“Er, who?” Cillian faltered uncertainty.

“Katherine Freese. She’s a German theoretical astrophysicist, currently a working professor of physics.” She dumped a large book next to Cillian. “Try reading and educate yourself. It must be hard, thinking up new jokes to hide your lack of knowledge all the time.”

“Uh, yes, miss. I mean, Rebecca,” he cowered, well and truly knocked into place.

“Actually, could I talk to you, Rebecca?” I pulled her gently aside as the others spoke, so as not to embarrass her in front of them. “I’m sorry, but DCI Reid asked if you’d stick to the smaller robbery files. We have to spread out our resources and make sure we’ve got everything covered. You don’t mind, do you?”

I awaited the answer nervously, expecting her to refuse. Bearing bad news was never easy and Rebecca’s face fell stormy. She was visibly disappointed. Personally, I believed she’d be a massive help to our larger case, as a smart woman, but someone had to complete the crappier tasks and that usually fell to the newest recruit. It was the way the ranks worked, and we had all worked our way up.

“Yep.” Rebecca picked up another bunch of statements, dishearted. “But just so you know, I’ll get these robbery forms done twenty times faster than anyone else. Then I’ll be helping out with your drugs case. I’m a woman, not a halfwit.”

4

Hours later, I left our team in the more than capable hands of McCall. She would keep them all in check, and everyone had their assigned tasks, anyway. Albeit, they were moaning a lot today about various things, from the outcome of the case or trying to search for deep-rooted files.

Flynn, Sam, and Robin weighed heavily on our minds as a collective. We all felt a bit guilty that the situation escalated in the way it did. We may not have pulled the triggers, but the actions taken by armed response reflected on us too. Flynn’s situation especially bugged us. Nobody could figure out what he was doing there, or why. And no matter how hard we deliberated, none of us could find any viable reason for Flynn’s actions. All of us were convinced that he used to be a clueless screw-up. He must’ve been a bloody good actor to convince us all.

Trekking to check in on DCI Reid, I carried along a mug of coffee to his office that Rebecca also made. No doubt that he’d be extremely busy and overrun with tasks, and it was my duty as a DI to alleviate him of the pressure. I knocked twice on DCI Reid’s office, formerly Campbell’s.

A murmuring in his distinctive, rich tone echoed into the corridor, and I presumed he was inviting me in. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, it revealed DCI Reid deep in conversation with a bulky man in overalls. They didn’t appear to be cheerful, nor in the mood for interruptions. DCI Reid’s face remained irritable, quivering in annoyance. It reminded me of a hamster chewing hay.

“Oh, er, sorry Guv, I assumed you’d heard me knock. I brought you a coffee. I’ll put it down and then let you get back to it.” I awkwardly paced past the intimidating decorator and handed DCI Reid the mug. His sausage-like fingers gripped the porcelain, and he grimaced gratefully.

“Aye, thanks, Cooper. You’re alright, I needed the distraction. Stay, I beg of you,” DCI Reid offered. “We’re done here.” He directed the final part towards the decorator who looked like he was about to argue but didn’t. He spun on the heel of his paint-splattered boot and marched out.

DCI Reid let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You alright, Sir?” By standing up, I felt like I was towering over him.

It still took getting used to, seeing all of Campbell’s belongings replaced with tennis trophies and golf clubs alike. DCI Reid had a very expensive taste of sports. He’d invited us all out for a few rounds before, but I lacked any sports skills whatsoever and politely disagreed.

“Please sit, Cooper.” He waved me to the chair opposite. Without hesitation, I sat in front of the large man. “I was beginning to lose patience with the oaf asking me why the funding is so tight. I told him it’s not my fault, it’s the station’s budget. Anyway,” he fumbled in a drawer and pulled out a silvery flask, “thieving scumbags. It shouldn’t cost much for a bit of paint. I’d do it myself if I had the time.”

Shaking, he tipped some suspiciously brown liquid into the coffee. “Let’s call it Irish, eh?” He cheers’d the cup and screwed up when he tasted it, though not in repulsion. “After a day like today, we deserve to forget some of it. Here, have some.”

DCI Reid wouldn’t listen to my protests and poured me a glass too.

“It’s nearly home time for you guys, anyway. Relax,” he said, a twinkle in his greying eyes. “I won’t tell you off.”

“Thanks,” I gave in, grimacing at the strength of the whisky. By any rate, I’d be unable to walk straight if I polished off the entire thing.

The computer on his desk pinged.

“At least you’re still connected to the modern world. We’ve been disconnected by the decorators in the main hub,” I said frostily.

“I’d rather not be. I’ve got tons of emails coming through, as well as my wife messaging me asking what I’d like