The Devil Among Us by Ramsay Sinclair (most life changing books .TXT) 📕

I told you earlier, the kettle’s in there, as is the instant and tea bags should you wish. You’re painting, it’s not exactly rocket science. If anything, you should make us drinks for our hard work.”

McCall sniggered as the decorators recoiled, moaning under their breath about the injustice.

“Hmph,” Rebecca walked into the kitchen, chest puffed out in pride that she’d knocked them into place. It was impressive, to say the least.

“What happened out there?” Tony leaned onto his elbows, which were propped cautiously against the desk, waiting to hear the account. “Did we get them?”

“Oh, we certainly got them, alright,” I mumbled sarcastically under my breath, much to his visible confusion. “Armed response had already shot two dead when we got there.”

We officers who were there retold the story, Rebecca poking her head through the kitchen door to listen in. Once the tea had brewed, she shared them out and earned smacks of our lips in appreciation at the warm liquid. We’d been standing outside all morning, deprived of heat. It was nice to feel my toes again.

“Jeez, now I’m annoyed that I missed it all,” Tony pouted. “Meanwhile, we’ve been struggling to do all of this.” He gestured towards the files. “All the computers are down, as are the phone lines.”

“Why?” McCall wondered, sitting close to DC Taylor.

“Ask them,” he pointed towards the whistling decorators. “They wanted to go around the plug sockets without dripping paint onto the wires.” At least they were being conscientious, as annoying as it would be to start connecting the dots without the aid of technology. We’d have to do it old school for now and focus on written reports.

“Say no more,” McCall hummed. “Expect scathing reviews and writers slamming our efforts in tomorrow's news.”

“Nothing new there,” Rebecca swung from side to side on the chairs. “Three criminals, all previously convicted or caught had what? Joined forces to earn the cash?” She hadn’t met any of them before.

“Seemingly so. It’s an odd threesome, but they’re all local men,” I sipped the tea, which was a bit watery for my taste. “Could’ve run into each other, hatched a plan to distribute to dealers around the bay. Found themselves a supply and bingo.”

“Flynn Jones is definitely an odd choice.” Tony sat up straight, no longer bored. “We’ve still got holes and marks all over the place from his visit.”

“See,” Cillian cackled. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“‘Fraid so,” McCall exhaled forcefully, watching the boys exchange anecdotes of Flynn, laughing at his clumsy self. They laughed at each story.

“Respect, please. This isn’t a laughing matter,” I frowned, my forehead creasing with lines.

“Quite funny to me, sir,” Cillian wheezed. “He could barely walk without falling over his own feet.”

Tony got the hint and contained himself. “So we’ve got a hold of their supply and now what?” he theorized.

“Well, they must have an agreement with people on the other side of the borders.” I blew the steam from the liquid away. “We’ll see if we can trace them back and get them taken care of, by their retrospective forces. They’d likely be willing if it stopped the threat of these drugs killing more addicts, on not only Dalgety streets but all over the country and more. By going a step above the likes of Flynn, Sam, or Robin, then we’ve got our chance to stop the chain. The Guv’ll handle that.”

“And halt the strain,” DC Taylor added, finishing off the saying. It was ingrained into us all, it felt strange to leave the saying halfway along. We plunged into a quiet hush, each of us thinking about the situation from our own perspectives.

“I promised the Guv we’d start looking into the missing vehicle reports. But most of the computers are switched off too,” DC Taylor carried on, showing us the blank screens on account of the redecoration and finishing off the decaff Rebecca had made him. He was a lean lad who cared for wellbeing and fitness. No wonder McCall fell for him above anyone else in the office. The rest of us had let go a bit.

“Right, well. Looks like we’ll have to make do with using our paper files until then,” I improvised, as DCI Reid would’ve done. “It’ll be tricky and longer to find the things we need, but we’ll have to manage for now. Robin, Sam and Flynn were all local boys, so they probably stole or used a vehicle from somewhere nearby.”

McCall perched on her desk, joining in. “Before these guys unplugged our equipment,” she pointedly mentioned the decorators, who gave us a half apologetic shrug, “we had the anonymous tip-off this morning. Did you two find out who it was or trace the call at all?”

“Nothing, sarge,” Tony admitted, scratching his growing beard. “We were busy with forms and paperwork. We didn’t think it overly mattered if you caught them in the act.”

McCall twisted the ring she wore on her finger. “No, I suppose it doesn’t. I was just interested, that’s all.”

“The person who made the call probably wanted to avoid any consequences from the dealers and keep their names out of the papers. It’s an entire operation, and I’m sure the ones who are still out there wouldn’t thank our source for leading us one step closer to them.” I put the empty mug onto the desk, leaving a ring of brown there.

“What would be ideal is to talk to Flynn. He’s the last one living, which gives us a slim chance of wrangling any names from him about who else is involved. Judging by the last time we met, he’ll give us the information pretty quickly,” McCall guessed.

“Jones is probably going to stay in hospital for a short while,” I noted. “Somebody, get in touch with the hospital when everything’s online again and ask them when we can visit. ASAP. He’s our only chance of finding out exactly where the drugs were transported from--”

“And where would they have been travelling to next?” Rebecca finally spoke up after listening respectfully throughout our recap.

“Exactly.”

Cillian