My Favourite Game - a Steve Rogers fanfic

Chapter 1

"Boring!"

She threw the folder to the floor adding to the file of 'boring' investigations.

"You know, you are going to have to pick all of them up" Harry said, moving his head to look at the woman behind his monitor screen. He had brown curly hair that I began to thin and turn grey. He was around the age of fifty and had been working with Cora for the past 7 years.

"Yeah I'll do it in a minute" she replied throwing her head in her hands.

"And you are going to have to choose one case to work with" he chuckled, moving back to view his screen.

"I can't though. They are all boring! Half of them are literally trying to find the guy that stole to old ladies bag or someone's cat is lost. And I can already tell you the answer to those. 1. The old lady is just old and no one has stolen her bag. She came back from her Friday Bingo game and placed her bag in a 'memorable place'. When really it is a stupid place and obviously not memorable at all. My guess it's probably in the freezer full of ready meals or in the oven that hasn't been turned on for years. 2. the stole cat is hiding in an cupboard or attic from the child who always has sticky hands" she answered, not looking up.

Harry just smiled, "you probably are correct about that"

"No Harry. I am correct about them. It's been ages since I have had a thrilling, sitting at the edge of my seat, not sleeping for 72 hours kind of case. It's not fair!" She groaned looking around her desk.

"DI Anderson!" Her head snapped to the front of the office finding her boss, DC John Corbett. "Can we have your help please?" He sighed.

Let's all be honest no one likes to ask for help. And those working with Cora, hated asking her for help. She always wore a smirk when they did.

She stood instantly and giggled at the reluctance on John's face. Stepping over the large mess of folders on the floor, created by yours truly, she skipped to the investigation room with John following behind.

They entered a room through the outward opening door and looked around. There was a large one way mirror on the walls that clearly provided a high level of sound proofing. A table sat in the middle, holding a tape recorder and stop watch, with four seats surrounding. In the seats sat 2 officers and a suspect on the other side.

Cora walked in nodding to the officers and offering the suspect a welcoming smile, stepping around and swinging the empty chair around so that she was facing the suspect directly. The chair scrapped against the concrete floor harshly and she shifted into a comfortable position. All three looked at her in disbelief.

"Oh sorry, please continue" she laughed looking between them all.

One of the officers sighed and began speaking.

Truthfully, Cora wasn't paying attention at all. She knew what this all was about. The suspect was actually another officer. She had been working on a official secret case and has been accused of ignoring forensic evidence by another officer, Barry, who has been found dead two days ago with three fingers missing. Obviously there was more to the case and the background but Cora didn't care. She was more intrigued by the three missing fingers on his left arm.

Cora studied the suspect as she answered questions. The woman was visibly distraught. She was always moving, twitching, shaking. What usually would be effects of trauma - which is a given when a close member of your team has been murdered. Something particular caught Cora's eye, though.

The suspect, Tina, was constantly adjusting her long sleeve on her right arm. It seemed to be agrivating her.

"Tina" Cora spoke gaining the attention of her and the other officers. "What's wrong with your arm?"