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

“Go on, Cooper. This man doesn’t give up. He’ll be on your case for weeks if you don’t.” Judge Ramsey paused to slap DCI Reid’s back in a boyish manner. “Next time, you won’t be so lucky,” he promised me in reference to my winning hand.

“Next time?” This time had been stressful enough.

“You can’t get away that easily, sport.” Judge Ramsey included me in the series of slaps on the back that were taking place. “You’re one of us now, DI Cooper.”

He outstretched his palm towards me in something instantly recognizable as a handshake. But this wasn’t the normal type of handshake, and I could tell by the way the two men were staring at me, that this meant something more. Something darker. It was the same sort of handshake DCI Reid had given the criminals on the CCTV footage, almost as though I’d been recruited into their specialist group.

I couldn’t very well ignore the handshake, for that would reveal that I was having doubts about their characters. DCI Reid would instantly know something was wrong. With that, I went from being a DI, to being acquainted with doctors, lawyers and impressionable people in the space of one night.

“If there are any favours you need, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call on us. We’re joined, as one. Just let Reid know,” Judge Ramsey advised with the stench of mixed alcohol lingering on his tongue.

“Anything, Cooper,” DCI Reid affirmed, handing me over a proportionate amount of winnings. My pockets could barely stand the weight, but I’d be glad if someone mugged me on the way home.

The two impressionable men led the way out until we were stood on a road opposite the home that had held our card games for the past few. It was here where we were all going our separate ways, each with different people waiting for us at home.

“Well!” Judge Ramsey cleared his throat and slapped my back again. Any more and my back would be bruised as well as the rest of me. Disguising the winces, I reciprocated what I thought to be friendly behaviour. “We’ll see you next time. That’s an order.” The skinny man discarded another cigar stub, puffing his way through them like a soldier in the war.

“Aye. Thanks,” I mumbled, voice lost in the wind that had begun to pick up.

DCI Reid stifled a yawn, clocking the time. “We should head off. Not only will Iona beat me for staying out late again, but we’re in early at the office tomorrow, Cooper,” he reminded me. These days, the last thing I ever thought about was the office. “Good to see you, Ramsey.”

They shared a comfortable farewell. Judge Ramsey was the first to break away and clamber gracelessly into his car to warm up by the heaters. I wasn’t entirely sure that he was under the legal limit of drink, not that DCI Reid seemed to care. Eventually, the car glided effortlessly across the gravelled streets, showing its unique and expensive engineering.

“That was an excellent game in there, Cooper,” DCI Reid confided, barely feeling the chill from the amount of insulation his fat gave him. “Spend your winnings wisely.” He nodded mysteriously and marched off without another utterance.

That was typical of him, the epitome of a blunt man. Shuffling and tightening my coat fabric around my shivering body, my shoe caught against an object lying on the concrete. Squinting in the crappy street lamps that barely illuminated anything, I stooped over to find a wallet. Expertly created from the finest leathers and bound by fastenings that wouldn’t break anytime soon, I opened it to see a name inscribed.

“DCI Reid!” I called out to no avail, for he had already faded into the darkness, blending in with our surroundings. My calls were carried away on the brisk wind.

There was nothing much in it, apart from a gambling chip from today and a few pennies. Reid’s winnings from tonight had mainly been stuffed into any pocket available, for the wallet was too small to fit many notes into it, anyway. His bank cards were neatly tucked into their allocated compartments and a small passport-sized photo of a woman was tucked inside the plastic part.

It took a short while to notice that the girl was Iona as a young woman. She had curly hair then in a permed style, tight rods and ringlets that framed her slimmer face. Even though the photo was in black and white, I could see the faint glimmer of her earrings and guessed she’d always dressed in such an elaborate fashion. Being a daughter of a father who owns an oil company certainly had its perks.

I’d have to give DCI Reid his wallet back in the morning when we would return to the station. Until then, I had more important things to think about. My thoughts occupied me as they often did when I was alone. It was quite a therapeutic thing, to walk alone at the dead of night. accompanied by the swaying of trees and the moon which loomed over us like a silent protector.

Life changes and seasons come and go whilst people change and people betray us, but the one constant in our lives is the moon. Maybe one too many brandy alexanders had put me in a physiological state, but the moon never left.

It was smaller some nights than others, but it remained a constant. Hope was much the same, especially at CID. It ebbed and flowed, but we always had the tiniest glimmer of hope that we’d solve a case. I wasn’t giving up on this one. I don’t think my conscience would allow it.

The park was free of hoodlum teens tonight and I could see the ghostly whispers of Abbey in her red dress, walking arm in arm with me. The dress floating on the coastline breeze, the floral undertones of her perfume. Though I wasn’t religious, I found myself praying we’d remain as constant as the moonlight. I couldn’t imagine a life without