Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix by phill syron-jones Page A

behaviour with pleasure.
    She was busy typing something on the computer and had failed to notice the British guy standing beside the empty chair next to her desk; he coughed politely just to arouse her attention; she looked out of the corner of her eye and saw him waiting.
    “What now?” Her tone was one of weariness and irritation.
    “May I?” He indicated the battered looking chair. Its brown coloured fabric lay loose on the cushioning, yet it did look comfortable, somehow homely. She raised a hand as if to say ‘whatever’, but continued to look at the screen in front of her.
    Taking a swig of the brown liquid, his face winced almost immediately as his taste buds were assaulted by the worst coffee he’d tasted in years.
    “What’s the matter, coffee too much for you?” she said with a grin, taking a swig from her own cup, trying to ignore the foul taste in her own mouth. “I thought a big strong man like you could handle it,” she smiled again.
    Even though she was laughing at him he couldn’t resist enjoying this tiny chink in her armour. “You know, you have a nice smile, you should use it more often, it suits you.”
    She stopped and looked away, embarrassed she had let her guard down.
    He stared at the board over and over, but could not make any sense or connection; hell they did not even know who the other victims were, so a connection at this point was almost impossible.
    The British man looked at the photos and the timeline associated with the first vic, but nothing was coming to him. He gave up and he raised his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. They had been there hours and it had all blurred into one big mess,
    “Would you like a coffee, detective?” he asked, rising from his chair.
    “No but thanks,” McCall replied. “Hey, one thing, when you use a cup you need to check the ones with marks on, they belong to people.” She had pointed it out because he had used a cup belonging to one of the detectives on another shift.
    “Got it, look out for marks,” he said, going into the coffee room. Seconds later he rushed back and started looking at the photos. “It can’t be—can it?” He spoke softly as if nobody else was present, then shot off towards the elevator.
    “What’s the matter, coffee get to you?” she called after him, making detectives Tooms and Tony laugh.
    “No, the marks did,” he said, bolting for the elevator.McCall just stared at the other two, who were just as confused as she was. Tony made a crazy person gesture with his index finger, and seconds later, they all got up and followed him, just in case they’d missed something that he had picked up on.
     
     

TEN
     
     
     
     
    Down at the morgue Tina was in the back room checking some files. It had been a long day and she longed for the weekend to begin, because she and some of her girlfriends were planning to go to a new club and it sounded good. She started to dance to a little tune that had come up on her MP3 player and the mood just took her over, so she continued to boogie straight into the operating room where she saw a tall man dressed in black leaning over one of the bodies. She immediately stopped dancing and resumed her professional demeanour.
    “Hey, excuse me, can I help you?” Tina’s voice was calm and steady despite the sudden shock of seeing this unexpected stranger.
    “I’m sorry, doctor, I’m working with Detective McCall upstairs and I noticed something. It may be nothing, you see—” he was cut off in mid-sentence.
    “It’s OK, Tina, he is sort of with me,” McCall explained as she entered the room with Tooms and Tony.
    Dr Tina nodded towards the stranger and grinned to her friend McCall. Sam let her eyes roll back in their sockets in disapproval, but Tina made a ‘No problem’ signal with her fingers.
    “OK, English guy, what’s up?” McCall felt she had to sound as if she wasn’t impressed, but deep down she hoped he’d found something, anything.
    “You said about the marks, what