A Simple Study of Psychology

Chapter One

"Sir," Dana spoke up, giving her current boss -a manager of a quite successful newspaper- a slightly irritated look. "Why do I have to cover this story? You could have easily sent one of the others to do it?"

"Because you personally know the Detective Inspector." The man sighed, like he had said this to the Canadian multiple times before. "You can get information none of the others can." Oh, wonderful. She thought to herself. Using me for my connections.

"I can't just do that to Lestrade when ever you want a scoop!" She insisted. "I'm not us-"

"Not another word, Coleman!" He growled, shutting her up in the process. When she did. He let out a frustrated sigh. "You are one of the best journalists around. Your articles and columns are expertly written, and read by all. But for gods sake!" In the matter of a second, his praise changed to a stern lecture. "You're a free lancer! The only way you get paid is if you take this story, correct?" The ginger glared at him for a moment, before sighing.

"Correct."

"So I suggest you suck it up, take your recorder and go to that press conference." Glaring right back at her, he tossed her a pass one of the interns had managed to snag a day earlier before pointing to the door. "And if you want to get paid, I expect an article on my desk within four days."

Grumbling as she left the office building, Dana shoved the pass into her messenger bag. She hated it when people like that man were right. Yes, she didn't want to use her friendship with Greg to get the scoop, but she needed the money from said scoop to pay for her rent.

"God." She mumbled, rubbing her face as she hailed a tax-opps. Sorry, cab. "Donovan's gonna kill me."

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Dana Coleman had met Detective Inspector Lestrade three years ago, just a month after she moved from Calgary, flying across the Atlantic, to London. She had been given the task of covering a recent string of murders that the Detective Inspector and his team had been in charge of.

When she randomly popped up at the recent crime scene, she was immediately turned away by an officer. That is, until she rattled of a series of theories, and facts already known about the crime. Ones that she had no way of knowing before hand.

Slightly intrigued by what she had done, and having known only one other person to do such things, Lestrade reluctantly let her on to the scene to have a look and ask a few questions. What surprised him, was that she ended up helping them solve it!

As time went on, and he learned of her degrees in psychology and criminology, Greg Lestrade called the Canadian to help them on a few different cases and in return help her with her scoops. Before long, the two had become friend.

Now, while she had made friends with some of the officers at Scotland Yard, she had also made enemies. Sergeant Inspector Donovan and Anderson just so happened to be the major ones. They never liked it when she helped with cases, and even once insisted that she had no right to some of the files she had been given access to. They even called her 'Freak Number Two', though the ginger never knew what it was suppose to mean. Despite this, she found herself annoying them every chance she got.

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"The body of Beth Davenport, Junior Minister for Transport, was found late last night on a building site in Greater London." Donovan's voice rang clear in through the room. It was filled with reporters and journalists equipped with recorders and note books, as well as television cameras. In the middle of those who were seated, was Dana, listening intently to what was being said. "Preliminary investigations suggest that this was suicide. We can confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffery Patterson and James Phillimore."