Morality and ethics is best left to philosophers. Judgement is however under the sole command of us commoners. A CI was dead, and my brother was fairly confident that one of my colleagues at the News & Dispatch was his 'employer'.
In this town, for as long as I can remember, CIs were for the sole use of policemen. But since the 80s cops here had started to become very unreliable. A CI could not feel safe with his ol' buddies. I could think of at least five or six instances where dirty cops had bumped of their own informers.
Ever since the CIs started favouring scribes, but if my brother's hunch proves to be correct, the CIs will soon have to hunt for greener pastures. Sure, there have been cases where a CI got careless and found himself floating on the Hayworth river. But there has never been a case where a CI was betrayed by his scribemaster.
As these thoughts passed my mind I knew I had to keep my poker face on. I couldn't let anyone know about the information I was carrying. This would also mean that I would have to carry out my own investigations with a greater deal of care and secrecy. I can't let anyone know about what I know, however I can't keep on telling Hannibal that I am getting nowhere, I will have to lie to keep him of my trail. My only problem is Mac, I can't keep him out of the loop, I have to keep informed and hope he wasn't the dirty one.
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I got to work at a leisurely 11 am, Hannibal surprisingly wasn't in yet, so I quitely reached my desk and turned on the computer.
There was an email from my brother, he had some more information for me.
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