experience, although I could not tell which of us was the be st detective. Miranda often talked about her achievements, although she did not brag about them. One of the pictures on her desk was of her winning an award for something, but I never knew what. She was friendly, but she was not the person to be enemies with.
The other woman on the team, aside from me, was Patricia Harrison. She was deputy head of the team, and she looked in her late fifties. She was a rather plump woman with short, blonde hair. If you listened to her speak, you would never guess that she had done so well in life, because she sounded like a stereotypical northern housewife.
Then there was Graham Mitchell. He was originally from New York and had lived in North Dakota for about thirty years. He was in his late forties, even pushing fifty, and he was very tall, with fairly long, brown hair. He was obviously a fun-loving person and always tried to lighten the mood slightly. However, he seemed to remain in the background sometimes when I was partnered up with him for a few murder investigations. Perhaps he was not confident enough, or perhaps he was not cut out to be a detective. I had nothing against him, but I just thought that everyone else on the team was more intelligent than him
Finally, there was the boss, Clive Mitchell. I sometimes got confused because there were two people with the same last name on the team, but since we had to address the boss as D.I. Mitchell, we just decided to call Graham, Graham, and he was more than happy with that. I struggled to form a reasonable opinion of the boss – he seemed to have no personality at all. I rarely spoke to him, only when I needed to. I had never actually had a proper conversation with him. He was always very dull and depressing to be around. Perhaps that was just his way, and perhaps he liked it like that. I think that everyone else on the team felt the same way, because they hardly spoke to him either. I had heard that he had a family, so it was possible that there were problems there. I never found out, though.
Just before we went, I decided to ask the others about their past experiences before entering this job, because although I had worked with them almost every day for three months, I’d hardly had a chance to chat with them, because being a detective was hard work, and there were very few breaks during the day.
"So," I asked everyone on the team, excluding Clive Mitchell, who was sitting in his office reading something, "what did you all do before this job?"
"Well, Tammy," begun Miranda, "I was always a police officer, from my early twenties. I worked my way up since then. It’s always been my passion, solving crime."
"I see what you mean, but I wasn't always passionate about crime solving," I replied.
"No?" asked Miranda, an intrigued look on her face.
"No. It was only a few years ago when I solved my first murder."
"But you weren't a detective then?" Patricia said, joining in the conversation.
"No. I was only seventeen at the time," I replied, trying not to look too proud of myself.
"I think I heard about that," said Patricia. "And I’ve also seen you in the newspaper a few times. You were the one who solved the Alexandra Cross case, weren't you?"
"I was," I said, feeling rather modest about my accomplishments.
"Well, there's nothing that complicated in this job," said Graham, who had also read about the Alexandra Cross case. "It's just the same old thing here."
"What about you, Graham?" I asked. "What did you do before you came here?"
"I was a police officer for a lot of years," said Graham, "and I just worked my way up from there."
"Can I ask you something?" said Miranda, in a friendly tone of voice.
"Fire away," I replied, knowing what Miranda was about to say.
"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but how did you get the job without becoming a police officer first?"
"I knew you were going to ask that," I laughed. "Well, I was fairly lucky, actually. I got my
The other woman on the team, aside from me, was Patricia Harrison. She was deputy head of the team, and she looked in her late fifties. She was a rather plump woman with short, blonde hair. If you listened to her speak, you would never guess that she had done so well in life, because she sounded like a stereotypical northern housewife.
Then there was Graham Mitchell. He was originally from New York and had lived in North Dakota for about thirty years. He was in his late forties, even pushing fifty, and he was very tall, with fairly long, brown hair. He was obviously a fun-loving person and always tried to lighten the mood slightly. However, he seemed to remain in the background sometimes when I was partnered up with him for a few murder investigations. Perhaps he was not confident enough, or perhaps he was not cut out to be a detective. I had nothing against him, but I just thought that everyone else on the team was more intelligent than him
Finally, there was the boss, Clive Mitchell. I sometimes got confused because there were two people with the same last name on the team, but since we had to address the boss as D.I. Mitchell, we just decided to call Graham, Graham, and he was more than happy with that. I struggled to form a reasonable opinion of the boss – he seemed to have no personality at all. I rarely spoke to him, only when I needed to. I had never actually had a proper conversation with him. He was always very dull and depressing to be around. Perhaps that was just his way, and perhaps he liked it like that. I think that everyone else on the team felt the same way, because they hardly spoke to him either. I had heard that he had a family, so it was possible that there were problems there. I never found out, though.
Just before we went, I decided to ask the others about their past experiences before entering this job, because although I had worked with them almost every day for three months, I’d hardly had a chance to chat with them, because being a detective was hard work, and there were very few breaks during the day.
"So," I asked everyone on the team, excluding Clive Mitchell, who was sitting in his office reading something, "what did you all do before this job?"
"Well, Tammy," begun Miranda, "I was always a police officer, from my early twenties. I worked my way up since then. It’s always been my passion, solving crime."
"I see what you mean, but I wasn't always passionate about crime solving," I replied.
"No?" asked Miranda, an intrigued look on her face.
"No. It was only a few years ago when I solved my first murder."
"But you weren't a detective then?" Patricia said, joining in the conversation.
"No. I was only seventeen at the time," I replied, trying not to look too proud of myself.
"I think I heard about that," said Patricia. "And I’ve also seen you in the newspaper a few times. You were the one who solved the Alexandra Cross case, weren't you?"
"I was," I said, feeling rather modest about my accomplishments.
"Well, there's nothing that complicated in this job," said Graham, who had also read about the Alexandra Cross case. "It's just the same old thing here."
"What about you, Graham?" I asked. "What did you do before you came here?"
"I was a police officer for a lot of years," said Graham, "and I just worked my way up from there."
"Can I ask you something?" said Miranda, in a friendly tone of voice.
"Fire away," I replied, knowing what Miranda was about to say.
"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but how did you get the job without becoming a police officer first?"
"I knew you were going to ask that," I laughed. "Well, I was fairly lucky, actually. I got my
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