Whisper For The Reaper by Jack Gatland (best motivational books for students txt) 📗

‘And you don’t?’ Jess stirred the mugs now, allowing the tea bags to soak into the hot water, keeping her attention fully on the task. Declan could see however that she was shaking as she did this; whether from shock or anger, he couldn’t tell.

‘Of course I do,’ Declan passed Jess her mug and took her by the shoulder, grabbing his own mug as he did so, leading her back into the living room and the sofa. ‘But you have to remember, you’re fifteen—‘

‘Almost sixteen.’

‘You’re almost sixteen, and you’ve not seen this world properly before. All you saw are crime documentaries and old case notes. I’ve been living this life since I was eighteen and in the army. That’s over twenty years of this, both in the Military Police and in the Met and City police.’ He sipped at his own tea as he tried to frame his next response.

‘You granddad hated it so much that he quit,’ he continued. ‘I almost quit too, several times over the years. ‘

‘You were almost fired several times too,’ Jess forced a smile. Declan joined her.

‘A lot of that was because of my frustrations,’ he admitted. ‘And if you follow the family path and join up, you’ll likely have those frustrations too.’

Jess nodded silently, staring into her herbal tea as she gently blew on it, sending small ripples across the surface.

‘Mum doesn’t want me to become a copper,’ she eventually replied.

‘Your mum’s an intelligent woman,’ Declan leaned back, sipping his own tea. ‘And I think tomorrow you can have a day off.’

‘You’re benching me?’ Jess almost spilled her tea as she spun to face her father. ‘Come on! That’s crappy!’

‘No,’ Declan stared at the ceiling. ‘I’m just limiting your exposure to all this… all this police shit,’ he muttered. ‘You’re still a girl, Jess. You shouldn’t be traipsing around crime scenes and talking to friends of the victim, you should be playing console games or watching TikTok videos.’

‘I’m going to join up when I pass my A levels, dad.’

‘You haven’t even done your GCSEs. And then you’ll be at University.’

Jess shook her head. ‘I’m doing A Levels and then, when I’ve passed I’ll do a Police Constable Degree Apprenticeship.’

Declan knew about the PCDA. Before they recently introduced it, any potential police officers had to complete a learning and development programme over two years before being signed off as ready to patrol the streets. In fact, this is what De’Geer had recently done. However, any wannabe constables could instead complete a three-year apprenticeship, the PCDA, which was equivalent to a bachelor's degree, with apprentices awarded a degree in professional policing practice and designated as fully qualified constables at the end. Which meant that in six years, Jessica Walsh would be a serving police officer.

Declan was a little proud of that.

‘If you do, I’ll ensure you get some glowing recommendations,’ he said.

‘I’d get better ones if I actually caught a serial killer,’ Jess sulked.

‘And your mum would murder me if I allowed that,’ Declan laughed. Jess shrugged.

‘Then I’ll just solve that one then,’ she replied.

Declan and Jess sipped at their teas silently.

‘You can stay in the Library with Billy,’ Declan eventually offered. ‘Learning cybercrime is probably easy for you, anyway.’

‘I’d rather be with Morten,’ Jess muttered.

‘I know,’ Declan patted his daughter on the head. ‘That’s why you’re with Billy.’

Billy and Anjli were in The Olde Bell’s main bar, having recently finished their immense pub dinners. Doctor Marcos and PC Davey were back at Maidenhead going over forensics, De’Geer had gone home for the day and Monroe had returned to London to pack for his early morning flight to Germany.

‘Tell me you don’t miss this,’ Anjli leaned back in her chair. ‘I saw you on the computer today, asking questions and making suggestions. Why the hell would you go to Rufus Harrington?’

‘It’s a good job,’ Billy protested. ‘It’s got stock options, and I’d be making a lot more than what I did as a Detective Constable.’

‘You’d also be a lot more bored,’ Anjli replied. ‘Is this because you think it’ll make your family like you again?’

‘That boat’s long sailed,’ Billy sipped at a whisky and American ginger ale. ‘I think I might enjoy boring, anyway.’

‘Nobody enjoys boring.’

‘They do if they don’t die—‘ Billy stopped, mid response.

‘Is that what this is?’ Anjli asked, leaning forward now. ‘Is it fear?’

‘So what, I’m a wussbag now?’ Billy looked away.

‘Christ, no,’ Anjli placed a hand on Billy’s arm. ‘It means you’re probably suffering from PTSD.’

Billy nodded. ‘Probably,’ he whispered. ‘I have a dream, a recurring one, where I’m being shot at. It’s changed recently, but it’s always the same locations. I’m outside Devington House and I’m facing SCO 19. I’m in a warehouse and Frost and his guys are there. We’re even in that training exercise.’

‘All stressful situations,’ Anjli admitted. ‘And then what happens?’

‘Declan appears,’ Billy looked to the drink now. ‘Declan appears and then he shoots me.’

Anjli sipped at a wine as she tried to work out what the hell she could say to that. Luckily for her, Billy continued.

‘I know, he’s the one that saved me,’ he smiled faintly. ‘Without him leaping in front of me, Frost would have killed me a week ago. But somewhere, deep in my subconscious, I blame him for this.’

‘That’s PTSD talking,’ Anjli replied. ‘It’s looking for someone to blame. When in the end—‘

‘I should blame myself?’ Billy snapped. ‘Great talk.’

‘You should,’ Anjli snapped back. ‘Take responsibility. I mean, you did when you were almost fired, so why not now? You did these things. You chose to be the Judas before I could offer. You ran in front of the SCO 19 response on your own accord at Devington House. You did these things because you’re a good man, Billy. A genuine hero, and a credit to the badge.’

Billy nodded, but his expression still looked conflicted.

‘Computers are safer,’ he said.

‘Tell that to Nathanial Wing.’

Billy looked to Anjli, but stopped.

‘Remember, I’m just the tech guy,’ he