Page 36 of Mystic Justice
She frowned. ‘What’s his skin in the game?’
‘DI Wise,’ Elvira snickered.
‘That’s DCI Wise,’ I corrected and the room fell silent.
‘I guess congratulations are in order,’ Bland said lightly, breaking the stiff silence as everyone studiously avoided meeting Elvira’s gaze. Elvira had been working for the Connection for more than two years longer than me and I’d just been promoted rather than her.
She was frowning, but not for the reason I’d been worried about. ‘Congratulations are in order only if Unit 13 goes well,’ she said grimly. ‘If it goes badly, Thackeray will hoist Wise up and let her swing.’
‘Indeed.’ I was fully conscious of my status as a potential scapegoat and the Connection loved a goddamn scapegoat. I was all too aware that Thackeray’s scheme had one ready-made if he needed it: me. ‘So let’s make sure things go well. Let’s get to it. Keep in touch via SPEL and update it as the day progresses. Unit 13 dismissed.’
‘Should we have a secret handshake?’ Bland asked Elvira as they stood up to leave.
‘Try and do a secret handshake with me and I’ll cut your hands off.’
‘And that’s why Thackeray didn’t need to tell anyone your specialty,’ McCaffrey murmured. There were snickers and smiles all round and even a self-deprecating smirk from Elvira.
‘What can I say?’ she quipped. ‘Inspector Stone was my role model.’
Stone had been the Connection’s bogeyman who had killed more suspects than the other five Inspectors put together, not because he’d been quick to kill but because that had been his role. He’d been dispatched when asking nicely wasn’t going to cut the mustard. In his absence, Elvira had stepped into his deadly role. Looking at the relief in her eyes and the softness in her shoulders, maybe it hadn’t been one she’d coveted as much as she’d made out.
My newly formed team walked out of the room, talking as they went.
We’d really started something here. I hoped it wouldn’t end with the demise of my career. Or me.
Chapter Eighteen
Before I headed out to the field, I went into my poky office to check my emails. DS Roberts waylaid me outside the door. ‘I hear congratulations are in order,’ he said.
‘Is nothing sacred in this place? I only found out about my promotion five minutes ago!’
He grinned. ‘That’s how things go around here. Don’t forget to work with the kid now that you’re high and mighty.’
‘I won’t,’ I grunted.
He nodded. ‘See that you don’t.’ Point made, he swaggered off. He and I had never seen eye to eye; I’d had to keep too much from him, and that had kept us as colleagues but never friends. Maybe the formation of Unit 13 would change that, too.
When I opened the door to my office, Krieg was sitting in the guest chair looking relaxed. I assumed he was waiting for me. ‘Good morning,’ I said.
He smiled. ‘It is now.’
He was dressed in black leather pants, a white shirt and a custom-made black leather jacket. I narrowed my eyes at his outfit then glanced down at my own black-suit, white-shirtensemble. Had he dressed to match me? Ava had told me matching dress meant something in ogre culture though I didn’t know what. If hewasdressing to match me, the urge to wear a samba outfit next time we went on a date would be hard to resist.
Next to my desk was a sleek black mini-fridge. I sat in my chair, turned on my computer, then opened the fridge door: it was filled with Dr Pepper. I couldn’t have stopped the smile that crossed my face if I’d tried. ‘You got me a fridge full of Dr Pepper?’
‘I did. Do you like it?’
I laughed. ‘I love it, though I wonder how long it’ll be before the others notice it and steal all the cans.’
His lips twitched. ‘Theft? In a police station? Outrageous.’
‘Food and drink are fair game.’
Krieg shook his head in mock disbelief. ‘I’ll add a lock,’ he murmured, mostly to himself.
Although it was early for a fizzy drink, I couldn’t resist pulling out a cold can, opening it and taking a big gulp of its twenty-three fruit flavours. Oh yeah; this was the good stuff. Some cops had problems with drugs or alcohol abuse but I needed nothing more than this little can of caffeinated, sugary goodness. As vices went, it could have been worse.
I gave a happy hum and checked my emails. There was only one important message waiting for me: it was from Kate, sent earlier that morning. She’d got the itchies which meant her magic was running low and she’d gone to the Storyhouse so she could portal into the Common to recharge her magical batteries. The huge building in Chester served as a café, social hub and the hall of the Portal. It enabled the human half of the Other to hop into the Common realm for a few hours to get a magical recharge.
