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

aback. “That’s… unusual. No wonder he’s pissed if these guys were trying to wrangle extra pennies out of him. Some tradesmen botch the job on purpose and leave you to fork out twice the agreed amount.”

After a short while, their tense discussion seemingly diffused, and DCI Reid scanned the yard. Seemingly satisfied by the sight they were greeted with, he dug out a set of keys. They shone and glinted on the footage, attracting our gaze.

“Keys?” Abbey stated what she saw quizzically. We didn’t have to wait to see what they opened, as the three decorators trekked over to our own drug-laden van. With the aid of the keys, it didn’t take long for them to fling the double back doors open and reveal the huge stacks of cocaine.

DCI Reid kept a lookout on the station yard, which had begun to filter with streaks of light from the Scottish sunrise. One man in overalls picked up a bundle of cocaine from the evidence stash and moved as fast as lightning to bundle it into their own. The rest joined in, making quick work of the seized drugs.

“I guess our drugs weren’t destroyed in the end.” McCall spluttered, flabbergasted and unsure of what else to say. I could barely manage a pip, for my entire body felt as numb as my legs were.

Abbey’s delicate features were screwed up, trying to be positive for our sake. “You both said it yourselves, people are being threatened.”

The decorators on our recording had finished their frantic swap, leaving our evidence van stark empty. They handed DCI Reid back the keys and hopped into their now cocaine stashed vehicle. DCI Reid initiated a handshake with the burly guy who he was speaking to in his office prior to this recording. It wasn’t a quick handshake either, but a firm and purposeful one. The decorating men exited sharpish and left DCI Reid behind in a trail of smoke. He wiped his shoulders down and turned towards the station. That’s when I noticed it.

The satisfied smirk on his lips.

DCI Reid had known all along that this was a setup. Not only had he invited and dealt with the criminals, but he’d lied to all of us about his significant role. They had blood on their hands, innocent blood.

“The handshake didn’t look like a man who’s being threatened. It seems to me that this is the payment for all of them,” McCall input mildly, shocked to the core. I needed a minute to digest the sight we were faced with.

There was no mistake, nor misinterpretation. DCI Reid was there, plain as day. His presence in the exchange was irrefutable. It was there in black and white, quite literally. All of us were stunned and carried on staring at the blank screen long after the tape had finished.

“That’s how they were able to sneak in so easily. By disguising themselves,” Abbey elaborated, on edge, and waiting for a reaction that was bound to come from me sooner or later. “Well, what do you do now? Arrest him? You’ve got video evidence showing that he’s double-crossed the station.”

“Video evidence that will endanger Ryan’s life. We can’t just flash this footage willy nilly, for we don’t have any clue who the three men were. If this tape was used to arrest DCI Reid, there are still three guys out there who could carry out the threats.” McCall stressfully hid her head in her hands, trying to calculate our next step from here. “My prints. DCI Reid offered me a drink when he found out I'd visited Flynn on my own. The glass would be a perfect transfer.”

“He knew the decorators, or criminals, or whatever we should call them, would want to cover those tracks.” Abbey was piecing it together bit by bit, catching up with the consequence a bent DCI had on us. “Therefore, they had to frame you too.”

“Meanwhile, whilst we’ve been investigating false leads, the drugs have probably already been sold on. Everything was one big diversion. Me, Flynn, the shooting,” McCall concurred, cheeks reddening in shock. “We were a part of the operation on our own soil. It was an easy exchange, or at least it would’ve been, had Ryan destroyed the tape as he was instructed to.”

Abbey’s almond eyes widened at the lucky break we’d had stumbling across the footage. “Thank God for the rebels out there.”

McCall linked the separate fragments of our case together, all the sources we’d searched and intelligence we’d acquired. “Michael said it was a hefty payout with a richer clientele. DCI Reid isn’t exactly poor, he would’ve known sources in desperate need of a cocaine supply and altered the prices to fit.”

“So what’ll happen to this tape now?” Abbey sought answers, fiddling skittishly with her jacket lapel. Both women continued their hypothesis of the situation we’d been caught in, leaving the fury to mount inside of my stomach and rise until it bubbled over. A slow-burning, boiling hot vat of rage built up inside, as I struggled to conceive what I was feeling. I wasn’t sure if I was upset, faint or completely vexed.

Something snapped within when I grabbed the tape from the slot and stamped it to pieces with the underside of my shoe. Shards scattered and showered across the laminate, missing Abbey’s legs by mere inches.

“We do what they want by destroying the tape. We play the same games he’s played with us, by making him believe he’s won. Then… I’ll take them down my own way.”

McCall recognised the savage glint behind my scowl. “This isn't a game of revenge, Finlay.”

“Isn’t it?” I shot back maliciously, misdirecting the outrage and injustice towards DCI Reid at the people I cared for. “He’s lied to all of us. We’ve been working to uncover this, whilst he’s been muddying the tracks as soon as we do.”

McCall got to her own feet, that familiar cross look starting to show. The one where her nostrils flared and tiny forehead wrinkled. “He stared me in the face