Adèle strode to the secretary and asked for help finding her way through the large building. Even with clear directions, she took a few wrong turns before she reached the premises of her new team’s office space: l’Unité Koyani. Someone had added a flowery “Enter at your own risk” sign under the name, and Adèle stared at it. What kind of unit had she landed herself into? All her old bosses had said was that she could either transfer or leave police work altogether. Any request for more information was met with laughter and promptly denied. She had accepted, hoping for a new beginning with less mould in her office and more chances to see her sister. Further research had revealed the Unité Koyani had a reputation for digging where it shouldn’t, and tended to draw the ire of colleagues, all behaviours she was intimately familiar with.
The detectives worked in a large and open area, their desks placed in two rows of three. Papers and files covered all but one of them—hers, she guessed. Two separate offices lined up on the left wall, while signs on the right labelled the rooms there as the conference hall and the interrogation room. Immense windows bathed the wooden floors and dark furniture in a warm light that seemed to beckon Adèle inside.
The spacious office would have been a welcoming sight, had it not been devoid of people.
No colleague waited for her, no boss, not even a janitor. The premises were eerily silent, and wariness replaced Adèle’s eagerness as she took her first stride into her new office. Had everyone gone elsewhere?
No. She spotted a cup of coffee forgotten on a desk, lacking the dark rims that would have appeared if it had been given time to cool and evaporate. When she approached and touched it, the cup was warm. Papers rested beside it, half-completed. Her new team had been around not so long ago. Adèle was wondering where they’d gone when the murmur of voices reached her. Several people talking, muffled by walls and distance, the sound coming from the right-hand doors—either conference hall or interrogation room, then.
Adèle padded through the office, unreasonably afraid of making any noises. She didn’t want to break the dampened atmosphere, as if this strange silence had something sacred. Her previous workspace had been a cacophony—colleagues arguing, phones ringing, doors creaking and slamming, all underscored by the constant buzz of the ventilation system. Some nights she’d even heard screeches and clanking as the building struggled to keep standing and living. This place was all tranquility and new technology, and the stark contrast unsettled her. She was glad to hear the whispers grow louder as she reached the conference hall.
Her fingers rested on the doorknob for a moment, the metal cool against her skin. Her gut twisted with nervousness. The voices inside were engaged in a lively debate—nothing more natural than that, and nothing to worry about. She stomped down her first-day jitters, then stepped into the room.
Silence fell. Five police officers spun towards her in perfect synchronicity, fixing intense gazes on Adèle. They were all sitting around a table except one: a small woman with ferocious, deep-set eyes and olive skin, and the only one in uniform. Capitaine Koyani’s black and white outfit marked her rank, and Adèle froze under the glare of her new boss.
“Officier Duclos,” Koyani greeted her. “I’m glad you finally decided to join us.”
Cold anger underlay the captain’s pleasantness, and the corners of her full lips twitched as she smiled. Koyani gestured at an empty seat with her red prosthetic arm, but Adèle stayed frozen, her heart hammering in her chest. She wasn’t late. The instructions she had received had said nine in the morning, and she’d checked every mural clock on her way through the building.
“Capitaine, I apologize, but…” she said, her voice tight from fear of angering her new superior even further. “I was told meetings started at nine.”
Koyani’s arm flopped to her side, before she raised it to rub her temple. “Of course. They know I hate lateness.” She fixed her gaze on Adèle again, but her ire had slipped out of it. “Please sit down. It’s fine.”
“You think Poitras sent the instructions, Capitaine?” The question came from a man in his thirties with a high-pitched voice and a flowery shirt—likely the creator of the sign, Adèle thought.
“Who else?” Koyani replied. “Petty office sabotage is just his style. But no matter. I can deal with him later. Welcome to our beloved unit, Officier Duclos. As you can see, we’re quite popular with our colleagues.”
“I’ll remember.” Adèle sat between a muscled black woman with grey cornrows and a wiry, beak-nosed man, relieved not to get chewed out. It sounded like similar mishaps were common occurences for Koyani. “What is the correct time?”
“We have round-up meetings every Lundi, at eight thirty.” Capitaine Koyani’s hands returned to ample hips, and she radiated authority as she swept the group with her dark eyes. More than that, even. Her gaze wrapped the others in pride, severity, and trust, and she cast these so naturally it made Adèle long for a similar look. The capitaine belonged in a leadership position, where she could judge others for their strengths and weaknesses, and use them as was best. So much competence and stature packed into five feet of muscles and willpower left no questions as to who was in charge.
“Let’s continue, then.” Koyani ran a finger over a list on the table before her until she reached their next order of business. “Yuri, please share your progress on the eau-de-vie ring.”
Yuri was the slender man on Adèle’s left, his blue eyes so pale she’d mistook them for white, his skin no darker. He leaned forward and detailed what he’d done over the last week, and Adèle paid close attention. Although she’d arrived halfway through the case, she hoped she could be useful in some measure. It turned out a group had been sneaking a new addictive substance into the city, pretending at first to sell a clear and strong alcohol. No one had cared until it moved from low-class revelries in the Quartier des Ormes to some of Val-de-mer’s richest balls, right here in the Quartier des Chênes. Now the police had to crack down on it, but they were having no success.
Yuri explained the leads he still needed to explore, listened to suggestions, then they moved to the next order of business. The group went over two more cases like this. First, the case leader summarized their progress over last week, then everyone talked about new leads, potential problems, or hypotheses. Capitaine Koyani guided the discussions, cutting off any unproductive topic before it stretched on. They worked as a team, every officer contributing with their expertise, and all of them deferring to Koyani’s final decision. The structure also provided a great chance for Adèle to learn everyone’s names. The meeting progressed, smooth and efficient, devoid of the bickering that had stalled all of Adèle’s previous experiences.
Half an hour into the meeting, Adèle was smitten with this team.
“This covers our ongoing cases,” Koyani declared. “I’m afraid l’officier Duclos is not the only new thing this morning, however. We have a special case.” Everyone perked up at once, flipping notebooks to blank pages and readying their pen. Adèle cursed herself for not bringing anything to write with, but she hadn’t even been shown her desk yet! She would have to rely on her memory this time. Koyani’s gaze lingered on her and she sketched a smile. “Like most of us, this case wound up in my unit because no one else wanted it.”
The black woman on Adèle’s right, Inha, startled her with sudden laughter. “Not our job to be wanted, boss.”
“Quite true, and it would be a mistake to think otherwise. Now, about our case… Everyone dodged this bullet for two reasons. First, several politicians and commanding officers have an interest in it, which means success or failure could play big in one’s career. Second, it’s thievery, and we catch one of those in a hundred, so none of the promotion-seekers believe they can find our culprit. They would rather pass than fail spectacularly.” Koyani paused, as if she needed to control her disdain and irritation at their attitude. The scribbling of her team’s pens filled the silence, and Adèle held her breath. She had managed to forget about Claire until now, but wi
th thievery on the table it was hard not to think of the criminal who had shattered her sleep. “It seems someone is sneaking into our wealthiest citizens’ houses, taking off with their valuables. This includes jewelry, silverware, exocores… objects easy to carry around. Two witnesses indicated they wore a long cape and a mask—like some sort of vigilante—and had purple hair. All our reports come from wealthy inhabitants and I—”
“Not all.” Adèle blurted the words out against her better judgment about interrupting Koyani. Once again, all eyes homed in on her with perfect synchronicity. She swallowed hard, her head buzzing so loud she was half-convinced they could hear it. But it had to be Claire. How many wretches with purple hair pranced about in a cape at night, stealing? “Her name is Claire. She was in my flat last night, and it doesn’t qualify as wealthy no matter how you put it. Her disguise is black, made of cotton, and she has long purple hair. Short, fat, with pale brown skin. Further details were difficult in the dim light. She stole my exocore.”
“Is that so?” Either Koyani wasn’t impressed, or she hid it well. “Anything else you can think of?”
“I pointed a gun at her and she didn’t seem worried. She escaped by throwing a smokestick in the room, so she comes equipped to deal with potential problems.”
“Good.” Koyani smiled, and the implicit approval sent warmth coursing through Adèle. “I’m sure you’re eager to lead hopeless cases with us, but—”
“Please,” Adèle interrupted. “Hopeless cases are my specialty.” She needed that case. Claire’s nonchalance and her sudden escape had gotten to her. Adèle had no idea if her flat would ever feel like home now, all because this flimsy girl thought it was fun to break into people’s homes and take off with their things.
“No.” Koyani’s voice cracked through the meeting room. “I’m glad for your enthusiasm, but you’re too close to this. Élise gets this one. As our best source of information and a newcomer, you can shadow her. Ask questions and make as many suggestions as you want, but she is in charge and has the final say. You’re not to do anything she hasn’t permitted. Understood?”
Adèle cast a stiff glance at Élise Jefferson, the quiet girl who’d said very little through the entire meeting, except for her own progress report and the occasional sarcastic remark. Her dark curls framed a pale and round visage, with shining brown eyes. She’d seemed too small for police work to Adèle, but the detailed report of her activities over the last week proved she could handle herself. Competent or not, however, Adèle had wanted this case to be hers. She swallowed down her bitterness.
“Excellent. Unless someone has more to add, this meeting is over.” Koyani scanned every officer one by one, and they shook their heads in answer. Once certain no one would speak, the capitaine picked up her sheets. “Good day of work, team. Duclos, in my office. I’d like to talk.”
Anger still simmered in Koyani’s tone, and she stomped out of the room, striding past Adèle without a glance in her direction and giving her no option but to fall in steps with her. Adèle followed, nervous yet marvelling at how such a small woman could move so fast. They crossed the larger office area and entered the spacious room on the other side, which Koyani had claimed for her own. As soon as the door clicked behind Adèle, the capitaine spun about.
“Let’s clarify a few things.” Metallic fingers pushed her bangs aside before she gestured at the guest’s chair. “Sit.”
Adèle would have rather stayed standing. Nervous energy coursed through her and, if she sat, she’d be wringing her hands and shuffling around. Yet Koyani’s tone left no room for arguing, so she took a deep breath to calm her jitters and settled into the seat.
“First, about this morning… we are a team. Almost a family. Lateness at group meetings is a mark of disrespect.”
“I didn’t—” A raised hand stopped her.
“I know, I know. This isn’t on you—other police pull shit like this all the time—but you should know for the future. I don’t tolerate it.”
Adèle’s face and throat burned with shame anyway. She tried to convince herself Koyani’s anger wasn’t directed at her but struggled with the capitaine’s brusque tone. First impressions mattered, and even if others were to blame, this whole affaire had messed up hers. She swallowed her feelings down, her shoulders squared, and waited for the rest, remembering Koyani’s smile in the reunion room, her satisfied “excellent” when Adèle didn’t argue about Claire’s case.
“Don’t make that face,” Koyani said. “You are wanted here. I asked for your transfer.”
“You… what?”
“I asked for you. I’m sorry, was that unclear?” Adèle stared blankly as shock and confusion rippled through her. When she had been told she’d been transferred, she had assumed her presence in the Unité Koyani was imposed, perhaps even a form of punishment for Koyani. A glimmer of amusement shone in Koyani’s eyes, but the other woman kept her face schooled as she asked, “Do you know what my team does?”
“Not exactly.” She had already learned they were efficient and that they handled difficult cases that many would rather avoid, but Koyani seemed to seek a more precise answer. Adèle volunteered what she had gathered and hoped none of it was too far off the mark.
“Close enough,” Koyani said afterwards. “Mairesse Jalbert created this unit to chase down cases everyone refuses to touch, either because of their political weight or because they’re likely impossible to solve. We have her blessing and her protection, and more leeway than most. We’ve also touched enough corrupted colleagues that we’re no longer welcome anywhere within police forces.
“Now, I hate wasted potential, and I’ve learned that when nobody wants an investigative employee, it can be due to crass incompetence, or because they have a way of digging out what everyone wants to bury. You have three months to prove you’re the latter category, or I’ll have you shipped back into a mould-ridden hole like the one you no doubt just left. Succeed, and you’ll be part of the team for good.”
Adèle recalled how they’d worked together earlier, seamlessly contributing to each other’s cases, examining new angles and possibilities through healthy debate rather than by outshining others. The respect and efficiency she’d witnessed had struck envy in her, and now she learned they were explicitly allowed to investigate corruption? She wanted in. The desire burned through her stomach, stronger than her previous shame, and hardened into determination.
“We’ll get her, Capitaine.” She squared her shoulders and smiled back. “With your permission, I’d like to go file my report and join Lieutenant Jefferson.”
“You have it. I won’t wish you good luck, however. It is only half the battle.”
That still left half she could make well wishes for, Adèle thought, but she withheld any comments. If good fortune didn’t follow, she would have to create her own.
* * *
The rest of Adèle’s day was split between her theft report, running around the huge precinct to acquire all the necessary supplies, ensuring she was set up properly for future work, and officially meeting her colleagues.
The latter happened the moment Adèle returned with her supplies. As she stepped back through the door, the wide office area fell silent. Her presence killed the half-whispered conversations, and she knew they’d been chatting about the team’s newcomer and her remarkable entrance. Adèle stared at the four gathered—a strange group of police officers if she’d ever seen one.
“Don’t stop for me,” she said, striding to her desk and dumping the supplies on it. “I’m sure it was a pleasant conversation.”
A beat of silence, then a raucous laughter escaped Inha, who had sat on Adèle’s right during the meeting. She was the unit’s oldest member. Time had grayed her tight cornrows and wrinkled and marked her dark skin, but her arms retained impressive muscles.
“You’ve got character,” she said. “Nice to have some fresh blood around.”
Was it Adèle’s imagination, or did it sound like they meant to hunt her
down? Like a pack waiting to jump on her. Adèle pushed the idea aside. Her initial entrance hadn’t happened in the best of ways, but Koyani clearly wanted her in this team, and she had no reason to believe the others were hostile to her presence. Besides, she had more than character: she had the skills to prove she belonged, too.
“And it feels good to join a team instead of rotting away in a dump,” she said.
“Don’t let the airy area fool you,” Élise replied. “We still clean the precinct’s trash.”
“And get no thanks for the dirty work,” Yuri added, before raising the cup of coffee Adèle had spotted earlier. She suspected its content had cooled over the last two hours, but Yuri sipped at it anyway. Perhaps he couldn’t bear to waste a drop of it.
“Don’t be so grim!” Marcel’s northern accent needlessly elongated every vowel and reminded Adèle of home, near Lac Saint-Damase, where she had grown up. “You’ll discourage our new friend before her first day is even over.”
Of all the team members, he’d been the most talkative during the meeting. His hands flittered midair as he spoke, adding dramatic punctuation to every word. Where the others had remained serious and careful in their estimations of the work they could accomplish over the next week, Marcel had grinned, professed hopes of important achievements, and encouraged all to do the same. An attitude that quite fitted the bright-coloured shirts with flower patterns he wore. His positive outlook had soothed Adèle’s nerves during the meeting, and it calmed her now, too.
Baker Thief Page 3
