The detective covered ground quickly with the steady pace she held. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail to keep it off her face. Improvising as she went, she’d mapped out a path in her mind to follow the streets in a large circle which would bring her back to her house. She estimated the track to be around eighteen kilometres.
Working in an undercover squad, her job was demanding, and although she exercised regularly, not often did she have the chance to be out at this time of the morning to enjoy the refreshing atmosphere of the dawning day. She found it stimulating, grooming her for what might lay in the days ahead. She’d finished an assignment only yesterday. After working three weeks undercover to set up drug dealers, she and her team had busted their illegal trading and shut down their business. It wouldn’t be long before she’d transform into another undercover role to hunt down and target more lawbreakers. For now she focused on this free time to wind down. Looking around and absorbing the smells and sights of the awakening city, it brought her back to normality, far from the dangerous situations and long laborious hours her assignments often entailed.
Cutting across the street, Billie jogged into Hyde Park, one of Sydney’s famous attractions. She couldn’t deny the large park looked inviting with its manicured lawns and neatly trimmed gardens amidst beautiful towering trees. Several monuments and statues stood guard throughout the park, offering plaques filled with history to the interested readers. It was more alive here. Other runners and walkers took advantage of the beautiful grounds on this perfect morning. The narrow concrete path Billie followed snaked through the centre of the public gardens. Keeping up her pace, she soon reached the opposite end. The path guided her towards the exit adjoining the bordering street. An open sided shelter shed nestled in a garden of Azaleas sat between her and the road, offering park goers a place to sit and relax with a vista overlooking the colourful gardens and sweeping landscaped grounds.
As Billie approached the shelter, a half-caste aboriginal woman stood up from the seat and stepped onto the path. Pulling a cigarette from a packet in her hand, she patted her pockets. Casually she looked around and flashed a smile when her attention snapped to Billie jogging towards her.
“Excuse me!” she called, lifting a hand in a sign to halt the running detective. “Excuse me.”
A little surprised, Billie stopped at the request. She had little choice. The girl literally stepped in front of her and forced her to either halt or face a collision. Panting slightly, the detective looked at the stranger with a touch of annoyance for breaking her rhythm. Guessing her to be around her age in her mid-twenties, her hair hung in tight curls above her shoulders. Her fine face was quite pretty. She lacked the distinctive characteristics and deep dark skin of the true indigenous aboriginal. Dressed smartly in a navy blue dress and heels, it seemed out of place for this time of the day and in these surroundings. The detective also couldn’t help notice the fine quality of the garments. The girl definitely had good taste, and money.
“I’m sorry to bother you and upset your routine,” the stranger said with a weak apologetic smile, “but you wouldn’t happen to have a light on you, would you?” She held up the unlit cigarette. “I’m hanging out for a fag and I seemed to have lost my lighter.”
Billie shook her head. “No, sorry, I don’t smoke.” Wanting to keep moving, she took a step to go around her. Immediately the girl moved in front of her.
“Well then, how about some of your time?” Her voice hardened in correlation with the changed topic. Jerking to a halt, Billie’s senses instantly jumped to full alert. She stared warily at the stranger. The innocent and friendly look was gone, replaced with a more sinister and colder stare, a daring stare. Something hard pressed against Billie’s ribs. She looked down to find a pistol in her side. What was going on? Lifting her gaze, she waited for an explanation. She didn’t know the girl so where was the connection? What exactly did she want? Was it a robbery? She didn’t think so.
The stranger gave her a quick smile and another of her apologetic looks. “I’d like some of your time,” she said more cordially. Billie held her gaze with caution.
“It looks like you have it, doesn’t it.”
The girl gave a nod and then indicated with her head to the street behind her. “See that car over there?”
Billie glanced beyond her to the street she’d indicated. Parked along the curb was a late model black Mercedes. She didn’t recognise it, and its dark impenetrable tinted windows blocked out any vision within.
“Someone in it wants to talk to you,” the stranger calmly said.
Billie returned her attention to her. “And who might that be?”
“You’ll have to find out, won’t you. Now I know you could disarm me if you wanted to, but this is important, particularly for you. I strongly suggest you hear what my boss has to say before you do anything . . . rash.”
The detective stared intently, masking her surprise behind a blank expression. Important for her? How could it be important for her when she didn’t know these people? The girl obviously knew about her though, and her reputation for being able to take care of herself. Highly trained in self-defence, it was one of Billie’s specialties, so yes, she could easily take the gun off her if she chose to. She considered her options. She didn’t like the fact her enemy held the advantage when she had no idea who she was dealing with. A strong desire to take the girl out rushed through her thoughts, gun or no gun. It was only intuition that stopped her. There was a distinct innocent aspect tagged to the stranger. She didn’t seem the type who was used to handling a weapon. She was here to deliver a message. The gun was merely an added incentive to ensure it was received. The girl motioned with her head towards the waiting car.
“Shall we?” She smiled.
Now the cop was curious. She indeed wanted to know who was so insistent to meet with her, and why. Well, there was only one way to find out. She hesitantly stepped off and followed the path out to the street towards the Mercedes. The armed girl kept a safe distance behind her. As Billie stepped onto the footpath, the rear window of the Mercedes slid smoothly down. Slowing to a halt a couple of metres from the car, the detective looked in through the opened window. A plump, aboriginal woman in her mid-fifties smiled at her. She wore a touch of makeup on her jovial face. The short burgundy dyed hair was neatly groomed. It was a strong contrast to the rich darkness of her skin. Her fingers, neck and ears were adorned in jewellery. Like her younger companion, she was overdressed, well out of character for this time of the day and place. It almost appeared they’d been partying all night and were on their way home.
“Sorry to disturb you, Detective,” the woman apologised in a rough but friendly voice. Billie studied her. So, she did know all about her. The fact she was a cop hadn’t deterred her means of setting up this unorthodox meeting. Not only that, she’d anticipated her every move. She’d been waiting for her. She’d known she’d be running this way. But how? It wasn’t an everyday occurrence. Had they watched her, followed her, anticipated her path after she’d entered the park? Obviously. The woman had certainly done her homework. Billie’s curiosity heightened. Casually she glanced around at the girl with the gun. She stood to the side at a safe distance with her hand buried in her pocket. The barrel of the weapon was pushed against the material directed at the cop. Its bulge was visibly noticeable. The girl flashed Billie a smile. Ignoring it, the detective returned her attention to the woman in the car.
“Who are you?”
“The name’s Stella Williams. Maybe you’ve heard of me?”
Billie knew the name but not the person. Stella Williams ran a classy brothel which attracted only the rich and prominent business class of men. Her standards were high and her rules strict which kept out the riff-raff. She’d been in trouble a few times with the law for minor offences but always found a way out with barely a fine. Despite her problems, Stella had managed to maintain and run a profitable business. Her up-market agency held such a favourable reputation, it filtered through the mouths of many, including police officers. Billie wondered how many were on her pay list. She’d definitely have to have inside help to stay where she was, and to find out so much about her. Concentrating on the problem at hand, Billie kept her thoughts to herself.
“Maybe. What do you want?”
“Oh, I’d just like a chat with you,” she casually answered. “How about we go for a drive?”
Billie gave a light chuckle and looked around. The streets were quiet, offering no help should she need it. Weighing up the odds, she felt safer on the footpath than in a stranger’s car.
“Thanks, but I’d prefer to stay here,” she said, turning back to her. Stella gave a short laugh, taking no offence to the refusal.
“Okay, have it your way.” Opening the door, she awkwardly shuffled out onto the footpath. “I’d certainly hate to be accused of harassing a police officer,” she mused with a subtle challenge in her words.
Billie let the comment slide. Stella had already put her head in a noose the moment her girl pulled a gun on her, but the detective was interested in finding out what game she was playing. Why was she going to all this trouble? They had nothing in common so why was Stella taking such big risks involving, like she admitted, a police officer. That alone could get her in a lot of hot water.
The driver climbed out, drawing Billie’s attention his way. A tall and solidly built Caucasian, he was obviously Stella’s bodyguard as well as chauffeur. He walked around the front of the car onto the footpath. Sinking down on the bonnet, he sat with his hands linked in front of him, calmly returning her stare in a warning he was only here if she tried anything. Billie turned to Stella.
“What do you want?”
The woman leant against the car and folded her arms. “I would like your help.”
Billie couldn’t stop the scoff escaping her lips. “Help? You sure have a funny way of asking for it,” she said with raised eyebrows. Stella smiled and shrugged her rounded shoulders.
“Yes, well I had to be sure you’d come . . . or more importantly, listen to what I have to say.”
Billie studied her querying expression. Behind it she sensed a calling of a definite challenge, daring her to accept. Still the cop was confused. What could this woman possibly want from her? They were worlds apart. “Okay, I’m listening, now that you have my attention.”
Stella nodded. “Good.” Her focus fixed on the detective under a pensive stare. “First, I have something for you.”
Billie was taken aback. Stella sure was full of surprises. The large woman continued, seeming to pick her words carefully.
“I know for a fact a close friend of yours is likely to get hurt, maybe even . . . something worse, something more . . . final.”
The words sent an icy chill down Billie’s spine. What did this woman know about her friends? How deep had she delved into her privacy? Fighting to remain calm, she stared hard at Stella, trying to read her features, trying to search for a hint of some truth, or lies hidden within the dark eyes.
“Why should I believe that?” she quietly asked, calling her bluff. Beneath her calm composure, her heart pounded. The thought of her friends in danger gripped her coldly. Stella’s face remained serious.
“Believe me, I know this for a fact.” Pushing off the car, she stepped closer to Billie. “She is involved with a guy called Matt Jensen, a highly respected man in our line of business.”
Billie took a calculated guess to his occupation. “No pimp is a respected man.”
“Ha! That may be so in your eyes.” Her tone soured in defence of her business and work associates. Then, just as quickly, she recovered her self-control. “But I’m afraid in this case, I have to agree with you. The problem is, Jensen is a powerful player and always gets want he wants.” Her eyes narrowed. A bitterness invaded her voice. “He doesn’t care who he hurts or who he steps on. He’s a cheat and a coward who manipulates people very easily and very forcefully,” she explained, spitting the words out. “They all jump at his command through fear and intimidation.” Her breathing had quickened with the sudden burst of antagonism. Inhaling a deep breath, Stella forced herself to relax. “Now,” she said, rubbing her hands down her knee length skirt to straighten the creases. “A certain friend of yours is associating with him.”
“Really. And who might that be?”
A faint teasing smile flashed across the madam’s chubby face. “I can’t give away all my secrets, can I. It would leave me without a leg to stand on, or a lever to pull, would it not? No offence, but at the moment I need some security against you. I mean, I hardly know you and I can’t be sure how you’ll respond. The whole point of this exercise is for you to help me, remember? I can’t have you running off without some hold over you to make sure of that.”
Billie stared straight faced. She found nothing amusing about the threatening joke or the hidden meaning within it. Taking the hint, Stella dropped the smile.
“Your friend is a little . . . reluctant about it I hear, but definitely hanging with Jensen.”
Billie blew out a breath and lowered her head. She didn’t like what she was hearing, providing it was true of course, and as much as she didn’t want to believe it, her instincts warned her differently. Stella wouldn’t have gone to these lengths if she wasn’t on the level.
The madam kept on. Her tone remained neutral. “I don’t know why she would choose to do this. I mean, not after the new job I heard she happily took on because of your influence.”
Billie looked up but before she could say anything, Stella continued.
“You know, you’ve given her a bad reputation on the streets by befriending her. No one wants much to do with her anymore. It’s like she’s been black banned.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Billie coldly answered. Stella ignored the comment.
“Yes. She shocked everyone when she pulled the pin to take on a legitimate job.”
Billie struggled to keep control of her emotions. Behind the light insults, the words stung deeply. Sarah, Casey and Jane were her closest friends, and all had been on the wrong side of the law before she’d met them. That was only eight months ago. Now, thanks to her, they held respectable jobs, jobs they loved. The bond they shared between each other was firmly established. They’d spilt blood for each other, fought enemies and emotional nightmares under a blanket of fading hope after being kidnapped by a bent cop to be sold as slaves. Despite their complete opposite backgrounds and status, reluctantly they’d banded together, and with each other’s help, had not only managed to escape but terminated the entire operation. The terrifying ordeal had cemented their friendship beyond any of their expectations, and had continued to strengthen over the months which followed.
Sarah and Casey were once well-known prostitutes – good at their job with reputations to match, which explained how Stella knew them. Billie guessed it had to be one of them in trouble. The thought knotted her stomach. Stella had certainly turned over a lot of information to know about these things. Not too many people were aware of their friendship, or the girls’ backgrounds. So what was Stella telling her? One of them had crossed back over and was working for Jensen? Maybe not working, but involved with him. It was just as bad. It seemed too hard to believe. They wouldn’t do that – would they? As if in answer to her unasked questions, Stella added more truths to boost her case.
“Word passes quickly around the streets, as you no doubt know. Cops and ‘pros’ don’t go together, well, not normally anyway. You have broken a hard rule, particularly with these girls who everyone believed were well entrenched. I have to admit, I’m impressed.”
“What exactly is your point here?” Billie’s growing anxiety was taking priority, particularly now that Stella had confirmed her suspicions to which of her friends she was referring to.
“We have a common factor.” Stella paused and stared intently. She delivered her words slow and precise. “I want you to put Jensen out of business. I want him out of my face and off my back.”
Now it fell into place. Now Billie could see where this was coming from, and why she’d been singled out. The reality of it left a nasty taste in her mouth. Blackmail. Her dislike for this woman instantly doubled.
“Ah huh. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. Is that it?”
“I suppose you could say that.” Stella took the time to study Billie’s sceptical and irritated expression. “I knew you couldn’t be bought so I thought a favour in return might . . . persuade you to see things my way. From what I’ve heard about you, you’re a strong believer in repaying debts. Am I right?”
“If I had my way, I’d shut you all down,” she said with distaste.
“Yes, but you won’t, will you. Not after what I’ve told you. Because of me, you still have time to help your friend. I’ve helped you and you know it. I could easily have taken this matter into my own hands, but I’m a law-abiding citizen, am I not? Now you have to give me something in return for my . . . trouble.”
“Have to? You force me here at gunpoint and expect me to help you? You’re in no position to demand anything from me, not with a harassment charge hanging over you, or maybe an unlicensed weapon charge.”
Stella gave a laugh. “That’s a nice bluff, but I’m prepared to call it. I know how much your friends mean to you, and what you’re prepared to do for them. All I’m asking is for you to take out a slimy criminal for me, someone already wanted by the law. It’s simple – Jensen for your friend. I’ll have him out of my hair, the police will have him out of theirs, and your friend will be safe. It works out all round.”
Billie stared at the complacent face. Her dislike skyrocketed. Again, the taste of blackmail sickened her stomach. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to any of her friends. How could she just sit back and not do anything. Hell, she’d never forgive herself if something did happen. Pushing all feelings aside, she couldn’t deny Stella had made some good points. As much as she didn’t want anything to do with the woman, her concern for her friend, whichever one it was, refused to let this pass by. She had to follow it up even if it was for their sake. Damn it. Stella had her over a barrel. Her cunning plan of insuring her to help left her in a position she couldn’t refuse.
“You know,” Stella said, cutting into the cop’s thoughts. “I’d hate to find out later down the track after giving you this information, it was all one sided.” Staring at the detective with raised eyebrows, the madam went on before Billie could reply. “It’s certainly terrible about those poor policemen being killed lately, isn’t it.”
Billie couldn’t contain her surprise. The change of subject caught her off guard. What did that have to do with why she was here? It was a touchy subject, one this woman shouldn’t know anything about. The fact she did removed any innocence from her side. A sudden resentment, inspired by the deaths of the officers Stella spoke of, gripped Billie. She took a step closer to her.
The driver jumped off the car and quickly moved in on them. A gun was in his hand, aimed at the detective’s head. The hammer of an another simultaneously cocked behind her. Billie stopped. Breaking her gaze from the driver standing protectively beside his boss, she looked over her shoulder at the girl. She stood just as tense, aiming her pistol with two hands at her back.
“Put them down!” Stella snapped. “Do you want everyone calling the cops?”
Her two employees reluctantly lowered their guns. Positioning them out of sight from park goers, they kept them targeted at Billie. Without any further advancement, the detective faced Stella. She battled to control her rising temper. The matter of the guns was nothing. It was the subject before it that ignited her anger – the murdered cops. Was Stella involved with that? She couldn’t afford to put it past her.
“Are you threatening me? What do you know about those murders?” the detective demanded. Over the last week, six police officers had been shot down at random, in cold blood for no apparent reason. All had been on duty but not necessarily pursuing a target. They were shot walking to their cars, coming out of a building, talking to others, just doing everyday activities. The dead officers included two constables, two sergeants, a detective and a lieutenant. The police had no leads and had moved no closer to finding the killer.
“No, I’m not threatening you,” Stella quietly assured her. “Maybe I’m pointing out a few factors that may, and I say may, be involved with this.”
Thinking over the cryptic message, Billie guessed Stella knew more than she was letting on. If she wasn’t involved, she definitely knew who was.
“Okay,” Billie finally answered. “I’ll look into it, and then I’ll think about it.”
“I want Jensen out of business and in jail to rot.” The words spat from Stella’s mouth with a vengeance. Blowing out a heavy sigh, the madam squared her shoulders and pulled down on her blouse to adjust it. “Dead would be better, but I’ll settle for jail,” she mused, finding room to joke once again. “After you ‘think about it’, you’ll want to know more about the creep.” She pulled a business card from her pocket and held it out to the detective. “You’ll find me here. I can tell you much more about him than your computers.”
Billie hesitantly took it. Stella gave a curt nod and climbed into the Mercedes. Pocketing his gun, the driver closed her door. Shooting Billie a sideways look, he hurried around to his side and slid in behind the wheel. The young half-caste woman stepped into Billie’s view. The pistol was back in her pocket. She flashed a smile and walked around behind the car. Pulling open the rear door, and on a final look at the watching detective, she sat in with Stella.
“I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” the madam said through the open window. The car started. The window slid up, shutting out Billie’s view of her. Quietly the Mercedes pulled out into the empty street. Turning into the first intersection, it disappeared from sight.
Billie stood tense. She looked down at the card in her hand. Stella’s words raced through her mind. Which of her close friends was she talking about? It either had to be Sarah or Casey. Jane never worked the streets. The thought of them being in trouble shot her head up. She stared across the road while her mind sought for answers. If one of them was in trouble, she had to find out before it was too late. Tucking the card into her pocket, she leapt into a fast jog. Cutting short her run, she headed for home. The day had suddenly lost its glamour.
No comments:
Post a Comment