Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Undercover 06

   By Katzmarek



   Part 6

   "Royal Bank of Tonga, Hastings," Sperle was saying.

   "Eh?"

   "Treadwell had an account in the Royal Bank of Tonga."

   "Not Treadwell again, sir.  I thought the case was closed."

   "It's in abeyance, pending further evidence.  Treadwell transferred his
money from Tonga.  What was wrong with OUR banks, Hastings?"

   "Hmm... too many rules, perhaps?  Easier for us to obtain his financial
records, maybe?  You can get a numbered account there, can't you?  I seemed
to remember reading somewhere that if you were pals with the Royal family
you can get away with just about anything."

   "An absolutist Monarchy, Hastings.  If the King or one of his household
says to get it done, it gets done."

   DS Sperle and DC Hastings were sitting in the Drug Section's briefing
room.

   "Interpol sources suggest Treadwell may have made a large investment to
one of the King's sister's Companies.  That could buy you a lot of favours,
eh?"

   "Like financing drug deals perhaps?"

   "Exactly!  I put some questions to Treadwell through his lawyer.  He
replies that he was avoiding tax."

   "Possible," replied Hastings.

   "Well I've booted it upstairs.  Unfortunately we'll have to depend on
the politicians.  Anything concerning the Tongan Royal family... well,
you'll get no co-operation from the Tongan police."

   "I suppose not."

   Chris sat at her workstation, bristling with anger.

   "Arseholes!" she spat, with vehemence.

   "Having a bad morning?" one of her colleagues asked her, cheerily.

   "Yes!  And it's getting a lot worse."

   Chris sat there for a few minutes, staring at the blank screen and
trembling with rage.  She got up suddenly and stormed out of the room,
sending someone's in-tray crashing to the floor.

   "What's got into her?" someone asked.

   "Sperle," said another.

   "Say no more!"

   The red Ford GT squealed to a halt in Gray's drive, pulling up inches
from the rear of the Ferrari.  The staccato rumble of the V8 died away and
the driver's door opened.

   "Hey Jerry!" Gray yelled from the balcony, "you rear-end my car and
I'll..."

   "Calm down Gray, I didn't even disturb the dust, look!"

   Jerry took the steps leading up to the house, two at a time.  At the
top, he slapped Gray's arm in greeting.

   "How was Polynesia?" He asked his friend.

   "Still there.  You been busy while I've been away?" Gray said, looking
at the Ford.

   Jerry gave a little chuckle.

   "Like it?  It's got the Cobra engine in it... slapped in some hotter
cams..."

   "So I heard... and extractors.  How much did that set you back, 60
grand?"

   "40, I got a good deal.  Give that Italian heap a fright," he said,
indicating the Ferrari.

   "In a straight line maybe," Gray said, rubbing his jaw, "catch me in the
right mood and I'll give you a go, over the mountains."

   "Hmm, sounds like a challenge."

   "In your dreams!  My insurance company would have a fit."

   "Don't tell them... C'mon, fancy a ride, I want to show you my new
house."

   "House too?  What is it?  Payday?"

   "Sure... I've been writing some books," Jerry replied, laughing.

   "You?  They haven't made a spell-check that could cope with your
writing."

   Jess woke up when the front door to the apartment slammed shut.  She
heard some crockery smash and got up quickly, putting her head out of her
bedroom door.

   "Chris, is that you?  What happened?"

   Her flatmate emerged from the kitchen, looking apologetic.

   "Sorry I woke you."

   "What are you doing home?"

   "Throwing a `sickie'."

   "What's wrong?  What happened?"

   "Long story," Chris subsided, "can you make the coffee?  I'm afraid I
make break something."

   "Sure."

   The two women sat down in the lounge with their coffees.  Chris started
to give an outline of the morning events.

   "I've been seeing this guy and... Sperle said I was seen in a pub
socialising with gang members... and I wasn't, y'know?  I went there to
have lunch with my boyfriend and I was out the back bar and never talked to
them at all..."

   "What business was it of Sperle's?  You're not in his section... he's
not the Superintendent."

   "No... it's a bit more complicated than that," Chris said, taking a deep
breath.

   "I've been seeing... Shit!  Jess, you know him... its Jerry... Hanlon."

   "Chris!  I..."

   "Don't say anything," her friend interrupted, "It was bound to come
out... sooner or later.  Y'know, he's not a bad guy, when you get to know
him... rough around the edges, sure, but he's kind... and funny... and very
smart..."

   "Jerry?  Shit Chris... I never guessed... I... wow, it's a bit of a
shock."

   "Well, I didn't tell you... but I felt the fewer people who knew the
better... `Cause I knew this was going to happen," she took another deep
breath.

   "Sperle gave me this speech about it being `inappropriate' because he
had a record and was suspected of trafficking in drugs and I would have to
break it off.  I told him my private life was my own business but he said
cops have no private life."

   "Yeah, I heard that stuff too.  A cop, 24 hours a day," Jess told her.

   "I can't live like that, Jess.  I need my space too, y'know.  Look! 
Jerry runs a garage... he does repair jobs for gang members... he fixes up
their cars and modifies them, y'know, to make them go faster.  He does up
old V8's and sells them to them, too.  He's good at it... but..."

   "He doesn't have a license... or a Trade certificate?"

   "No... but it's not really police business, is it?  Unless the Motor
Trades Association lays a complaint about illegal trading... and who going
to tell them?  The Black Power gang?  Give me a break."

   "Well, the Mongrels might, just to get back at the Blacks?"

   "Why would they bother?  Jerry works in the Black's territory.  Its not
as if he's encroaching on anyone's turf.  You don't understand about the
gangs, Jess.  It's all about territories... Jerry explains it better."

   "I guess I don't.  It's all seems crazy to me..."

   "That's because you weren't brought up around them.  Where I lived, they
were all around.  Their kids went to our school... I used to watch them
being dropped off in the morning.  You should have heard the racket they
made coming up the street in their cars."

   "Ok, so are you going to keep seeing Jerry?" Jess asked.

   After another deep breath, Chris replied,

   "Yes, I am... Sperle made me a deal... he told me I had to report to him
things I heard.  Like they're going to tell ME, huh!  Y'know, pillow
talk... that sucks."

   "That's rough, Chris... I'm sorry... you must feel like shit.  That's
blackmail!"

   "I said that!  He told me that `it was being a good cop', bastard!"

   "So!  You're going to tell him?"

   "Have to.  He told me that, in return he'd keep Jerry out of the courts,
providing he was not a `star'... I shouldn't be telling you this but, they
really want Gray Treadwell, Chris... I'm sorry..."

   Chris put a consoling hand on her friend's shoulder.

   "Don't be," replied Jess, " he means nothing to me."

   "Sure, Jess..." said Chris, disbelieving.

   "It's true!" Jess told her firmly.

   Beers in hand, Jerry and Gray sat in Jerry's spa pool.  Jerry was naked,
Gray, modestly in his underwear.

   "Tell me about your latest, Jerry?" asked Gray.

   "A cop... one of those two from the Rainbow that day... the blond one,
Chris."

   "You!  Going with a cop!  That's a good one!" Gray said in surprise, and
doubt.

   "True... great fuck!  Shit mate, she bangs like a barn door... You
fancied her mate, didn't you?  The brunette with the cute arse who tried to
fit you up... The Real Estate agent, Gray."

   "Don't remind me!  `Diane Sawyer' she called herself.  What a stupid
bitch."

   "Aw, C'mon!  She had you fooled," Jerry said, chuckling, "you were too
cunt-struck to see through her."

   Gray looked embarrassed.

   "Well... ok." He said, sucking on his beer, "I did fancy her... I guess
I was flattered that she was paying me attention... It's silly looking back
on it... she really pissed me off."

   "Yeah, I know she did.  Do you know she flats with Chris?  They're best
mates... tell each other everything... you know how chicks are..."

   "I wish I did," Gray said, mumbling to himself.

   "Chris told me she has a thing for you.  Her name is Jess... Jess
Dayshe."

   "Crap!" Gray said, suddenly interested.

   "True... dreams about you every night..."

   "You're bullshitting me, Jerry..."

   "Chris wants to fix you two up, interested?"

   "Eh?"

   "You want to fuck her, don't you?"

   "I don't think... Look Jerry... I've got a girlfriend... in the
islands."

   "Really?  You've been keeping that under your hat... tell me about her?"
Jerry said, arching his eyebrows.

   "Well... she's from a village... Samoan... quite short."

   "Where did you meet?"

   "At the hotel... she works there..."

   "You mean she's an escort?"

   Gray looked abashed.  Jerry roared with laughter

   "Gray, you're a classic, haha.  Didn't it occur to you she might be
after your money?  You're a fool, Gray"

   "It's not like that... it may have started as a... transaction," Gray
said, trying to avoid Jerry's grinning face, "But it went on from there...
got quite intense... something snapped... Y'know."

   "Gray, Gray, Gray... long conversations under the sheets?"

   "We didn't talk all that much... didn't need to... and... well, she
couldn't speak much English and I don't know Samoan..."

   "Oh yeah!  She knew how to say, `you pay me big bucks,' I'll bet.  `You
take me home and buy me car and I fuck you good, day and night.' Jerry
mimicked.

   "Jerry, you're starting to piss me off... it wasn't like that."

   "Chill, man.  Look, forget her, she'll take you for every penny.  It's
true what I'm telling you about Jess, though man.  She really likes you...
for real!  You should get together with her... I'll bet she'd be great in
the sack, too.  And you can talk afterwards... she's got a great looking
body... I wouldn't mind wrapping my hands around her cute arse, myself,
only Chris'd kill me."

   "Look who's talking about being `cunt-struck'?" Gray said, triumphantly.



   "Yeah!  Well you think about it, Gray.  You could do a lot worse... like
a Samoan whore... haha."

   "Shut up!" Gray snapped, splashing Jerry with water.

   A letter was waiting for Gray when he arrived home, later that night. 
It was sent Airmail, from Apia, Western Samoa.  Opening it quickly, it
read.

   (Reproduced with original spelling and grammar)

   `Dear Mr.  Tradwell

   I thank of your goodness and you very kind me.  You mak me hart burn. 
With love.  You think I come and stay.  I be god wife.  And bring you much
childs.  Me need ticket and Tali say I have passport to get.  So you mak me
citizen.  You get pleas.  You send money to Tali.  He say he fix thing.  He
say he need 20 thousand Kina.  He say you send Dollars he change.

   Solomina A'fa'asina Va'afalealupo.'

   Savai'i Tourist Resort Private Box Fagamalo Savai'i Island Western Samoa


   Gray shook his head and put the latter down.  He may be the fool that
Jerry suggested but he knew when he was being scammed.  He doubted Mina
could have written the letter herself and figured the hotel manager was
going into a bit of private enterprise.

   `It wasn't as if I hadn't tipped the bastard well, either,' Gray mused.
He quickly worked out the exchange rate in his head, `7 grand will go a
long way in the islands.  He could fix himself up very nicely,' Gray
grinned to himself.

   Gray picked up his phone and called his accountant.

   "Jim?  Its Gray, have you heard from Nuku'alofa yet?

   "Gray?" his accountant replied, " nothing yet.  Someone's breathing on
A'oka, apparently."

   "Yeah?  Who's stirring him up?"

   "Don't know.  Some cop from here, so I heard.

   "Ok, keep me posted?"

   "Yes, soon as I hear anything, bye."

   "Fuck it," Gray said, replacing the phone.

   The next day was Sunday.  Jerry invited Gray over for a spa after lunch.
As he pulled into the drive, Jerry came down the drive to greet him.

   "You'd better park your car around the back.  You'll bring down the tone
of the neighbourhood," he told him.

   "Smartarse!  You don't want the neighbours to see you know people of
real taste," Gray replied.

   "Sure!" said Jerry, sarcastically, "seriously!  Park it behind the
house. The brats down the road will be all over it."

   "Sure Jerry."

   Gray drove the Ferrari round the back and parked.

   When they got inside, Jerry said,"

   "Help yourself to the pool, Gray.  I've got a few things to finish
first. There's a half dozen on the bench in there, help yourself."

   "Not Castlemaine 4X?"

   "No, your stuff, Stella-Artois.  I imported it all the way from Belgium,
just for you."

   "Oh Bullshit!  You can get it at the Supermarket."

   Jerry laughed and pushed his friend towards the door to the spa pool.

   After about half an hour, Gray heard the muffled sound of voices, female
voices.  It was followed by Jerry's voice, conspirationally low rather than
his usual upper decibel holler.  He listened intently, trying to pick up
what they were saying.

   After ten minutes or so, the women's voices drew nearer.

   "We'll go in first... see you soon... and keep your pants on, ok?"

   Jerry answered from somewhere in the distance.

   They were just behind the door.

   "Go in, hon, I'll just get some more towels," the woman said.

   Gray froze as he slowly put two and two together, `the bastard... the
dirty, rotten sneak,' he thought, but he was secretly pleased.

   The door opened and the brunette with her long hair tied back in a
ponytail backed into the room.

   "You won't be long!" she said, before turning around.

   She stood there with her mouth open.  The door clicked behind her and
she heard the bolt slide forward.  Reacting, she spun around and went to
push the door open,

   "CHRIS!" she yelled, "WHAT IS THIS?"

   "Have fun kids," Chris said through the door, followed by laughter.

   "CHRIS!  OPEN THIS DOOR... YOU HEAR ME..." she yelled pounding on the
door.

   She spun around again and fixed Gray with a piercing look.

   "You don't touch me, y'hear?  I thought you were a low but I never
thought..."

   "Hey!" complained Gray, " I didn't know anything about this..."

   "Sure you didn't... what did you all think was going to happen, eh? 
I've never been so humiliated... CHRIS... I'M MOVING OUT, BITCH.  NO!  YOU
GO... LIVE WITH HANLON... I'M SERIOUS...LET... ME... OUT."

   Jess was trembling with rage.  She paced back and forth, pulling her
toweling robe tight about her.

   "When are they going to let me out... what are you grinning at?" Jess
fumed at Gray.

   "I don't know... honestly... I'm sorry, I didn't know they were going to
do this..." Gray replied helplessly.

   "Well stop fucking laughing," she spat.

   "Sorry... you look so... funny."

   "You'll laugh when I see you in court... illegal detainment, this is. 
Do you know how long they'll give you in prison... I'm in the police,
Y'know... it'd be much worse for you... them," Jess nodded towards the
door.

   "Calm down... Jess isn't it?"

   "She told you?  She would...BITCH!" she yelled again at the door.

   "I wouldn't bother... they're probably in bed now... on the other side
of the house."

   "Huh!  So, what's your plan now, Treadwell... Now you've got me here?"

   "I don't know... wait until they let us out... I suppose... got any
other ideas?"

   "Can you get this door open?"

   "Don't think so... looks pretty solid to me," Gray told her.

   "Well smash it or something."

   "What with... my towel?"

   "Your fucking head... I don't know... just get me out."

   "I think we'll have to wait until they've finished."

   "How long is that?"

   "I don't know... an hour or so, maybe?"

   Jess sighed.

   "You know its not going to end here... I'll lay a charge..."

   "I think they were just trying to get us together, Jess.  They're just
misguided..."

   "They're stupid..."

   "So!" Gray said, leaning back in the pool hands behind his back.  "You
might as well make the most of it and hop in for a while.  You're not going
anywhere."

   Jess thought for a while.

   "You don't touch me, ok?  I know karate... I'll break you fingers... and
anything else."

   "Ok, ok."

   "And turn that grinning face away."

   "Sure."

   On the other side of the house, in Jerry's bedroom, Chris and Jerry were
listening to the action on an intercom.  Jerry had his ear to the speaker
while Chris lay over his back, trying to hear.

   "What are they saying?" Chris asked, straining her ears.

   "I can't bloody hear with you yapping in my ear... wait a minute...
Shh... she's getting in the pool... Ata boy Gray... it's gone quiet... damn
water's making too much noise... they've turned on the bubbles... fuck, all
I can hear is Niagara Falls, now."

   "You should have left the volume up, Jerry.  Didn't you do a sound check
or something?" Chris asked him.

   "Hey!  I'm not a sound technician."

   "What do we do now?" Chris said as Jerry turned his head.  Chris pushed
her cleavage into his face.

   "Mmmf... Yum, Yum...."

   Part 7 follows

   Katzmarek (C)