The Society

Chapter 11: The Society Part I

The Society - Cassie Cassadaga

Ian looked entirely calm, as he drove his car back towards my apartment. I was sitting the passenger seat. What just happened? He just walked in to the station and commanded everyone's attention. He had so much power and influence. It’s like they all knew that his rank didn’t matter, like he holds some kind of different value to them. Is it because he knows the Police Commissioner Rowe? At the end the district head called him sir. He called a young man with a far lower rank than him sir...

Ian pulled the car up next to my building and had already leaped out, within seconds he was by the passenger door. He helping me out slowly, my body was still stiff from the attack and the fall yesterday. His eyes were filled with worry as he held a hand behind my back, leading me up to the building and walking me slowly up the stairs.

I don’t understand all of this. The mugging that didn’t seem as random as I first thought, it’s clearly connected to the Broffman case and what I found out when I went home. And Ian, does he know about all of this? From the way that he acted at the police station I would guess that he does. He acted like he was really worried for my safety. Maybe I should be worried too? I still don’t understand how he can have that much power, he is quite young. Okay, he has a high rank for his age but not high enough to cause that sort of complete obedience and power, within a district that isn’t even connected to his own…

All the thoughts jumbled up to one big mess of questions in my head, as I put my key in the lock to let us in. Ian walked me over the couch. I had sectioned off a part of my bedroom with a bookshelf making it into a makeshift living room.

“Let me make you a cup of tea.” I was just about to open my mouth to tell him that I didn’t need tea but answers when he added, “I’ll find the things myself in the kitchen. You just sit here and relax.” With those words he had ducked out of the room and dived into the kitchen. The clanking sounds of my teapot being placed on the stove told me that he seemed to find his way around my kitchen just fine.

 

Ian returned to the couch and placed a tray on the coffee table. He had found the teapot and my tea mugs, which he must have managed to dig out from some forgotten corner of the kitchen. He sat down next to me, making himself busy with the pouring of tea and squeezing of lemons, when it started to occur to me. He knows... He knows that I'm going to ask him about what happened at the police station. He knows and he is avoiding it. He is not getting off that easily!

"So what really happened at the police station?" My question came out bluntly. Ian handed me a tea mug, the liquid so warm that it still created a little trickle of steam stretching its way upwards from the surface.

"Well, when you told me your story I was worried." I could hear that he was choosing his words carefully, as if a misplaced sentence could set of an avalanche. There is clearly more to this than just being worried about me. "So I may have used my resources to ensure that you're best interests were being taken care of. I just did what any detective would have done." I looked at him, yet again puzzled by his behaviour. Does he really think that any detective can create that kind of reaction?

"I'm sorry Ian. I don't believe you. The amount of authority and power that you hold is not normal for anyone of your position not even one that may know the police commissioner." He looked at me, his face was a mixture of worried feelings and wounded pride.

He spoke again, something firm in his voice made me believe that what he said as the truth, "I did worry about you and I did want to make sure that you were protected. Sure, I used all of my resources to do so but it was to make sure that you're safe." He breathed in and continued as if he knew what my next question would be, "I may have more power and influence than other detectives of my age or position. But is it really such a terrible thing that I used it to light a fire underneath an incompetent and complacent police district in order to protect a friend." I can see the point he's making, but I still don’t understand exactly where all of this influence comes from...