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Subject: {ASSM} Undercover (Part 2) By Katzmarek (Slow, MF, Rom, Ped)
Date: Wed, 7 May 2003 17:10:07 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Undercover 02.doc" begin>
Undercover 02
By Katzmarek
Author's note.
This work remains the property of the author and can't be used
for gain without the author's express consent in writing.
This story is fiction of a sexual nature. If you are liable to be
offended or it is illegal to view such literature then pass on,
friend.
Any views expressed or implied do not represent the personal
opinions of the author.
Part 2
Jess watched the settling sun drift slowly down towards the
horizon. The sea breeze brushed her bare arm and raised
Goosebumps, so she wound up the window.
Gray Treadwell's house was situated just across the esplanade
from the beach. Originally a 1930's beachfront villa, it had been
extensively modernised and extended. The pavilion-style French
windows opened wide onto a gabled balcony with uninterrupted
views of the sea. Underneath, the concertina doors of the garage
were open revealing the rear of Gray's red Ferrari.
Behind her Jessica watched a large man wearing bright Bermuda
shorts emerge from the steps leading down to the sand. He
casually strolled up to the window of the car and bent down.
Leaning on the sill of the driver's window he reached in with his
hand. In his palm was a police ID.
"Move over," he told, Jess firmly.
Jess shuffled over to the passenger seat and the Policeman got
in. Smoothly he started the car and swung it into a U-turn.
"Who are you?" the man asked, roughly.
"PC Dayshe, sir," Jess replied.
"What are you doing here... what's your call sign?" he said
picking up the microphone.
"X22... um."
The man held up his hand as he opened the radio channel.
"X22... control?"
"Control... go ahead X22," the radio buzzed.
" DC Benson. Who authorised PC Dayshe to be at target C?"
"Hold please!"
About a minute later the radio crackled again.
"X22? Dayshe is not authorised to be there. Sperle wants her back
here."
"On my way," Benson replied and rang off.
Jess wanted to disappear. Sperle, Hastings and Harewood stood in
a little semicircle around her like some sort of inquisition
tribunal. Sperle berated her with barely concealed anger.
"What the hell were you doing there? You have compromised the
whole operation."
Jess tried to speak but nothing came out. She wished the floor
would open up.
"Benson said Treadwell was at the 'Rainbow' the whole time, sir,"
Hastings spoke in her defense.
"That's not the point. There could have been an accomplice
there... would have seen the license number of the car..."
"It was unmarked, sir..." Jess managed to say.
"Don't be nave," Sperle spat.
"You can get the license numbers of all our cars on the
Internet... practically before they come out of the factory,"
Hastings told her, softly.
"Exactly!" Sperle said
"Can't you close down the websites?" Dayshe asked, changing the
subject.
"Wish we could... it's not illegal to note down registration
numbers of cars, even Police one's."
"Oh," said Jess, disappointed.
"But it's against regulations to park yourself outside of a house
under surveillance... to use a police vehicle without
authorisation..."
"You told me to research my subject," Jess interrupted.
The other officers turned towards Sperle.
"I didn't mean... I meant for you to look through the files
and..."
"You didn't say... I wanted to see for myself... to see where he
lived... familiarise myself with the neighbourhood..."
"Very thorough," Harewood spoke up, "no harm done it seems, but
you must report to your supervising officer before you conduct
such research, Dayshe. You may go."
After she'd gone Sperle spoke to his commanding officer,
"Sir, I think you're being too soft on her."
"And I think you're being too harsh, Sperle. She's keen, that's
all, and I think she's learnt a valuable lesson."
"Yes sir."
Later, Jess was ensconced in the records room with a stack of
files concerning both Jerry Hanlon and Gray Treadwell. Chris
breezed in with another armload.
"They've got you in Records?" Jess asked her friend.
"Yes, sweet number too. I guess some people are organisers and
some are karate champions."
Dumping the files on the desk, Chris made a mock karate chop with
her hand.
"EEEaaahhh."
"I don't feel much of a champion," Jess told her, miserably.
"Hey, cheer up. Sperle's been too long in the force. He doesn't
know how to be nice anymore."
"Well he's right. I screwed up."
"So does everybody... Hey, do you know something about your
boyfriend?"
"My what?" demanded Jess.
"Treadwell... yeah all right, I was just joking..." replied
Chris, silencing her friend.
"What about him?"
"Do you know, they have all his bank statements... cheques he's
written out in the past year... the bill of sale for his car and
house," Chris leaned closer, " and they've even got a statement
from the car dealer. Can you believe that?"
"I know... I've seen..."
"All that information on both of them... and absolutely nothing
about drugs. Don't you think that's strange?"
"The detectives must know what they're doing," replied Jess.
"Well they're not saying anything to anyone. Do you know what I
think?"
"You're not supposed to be reading the files, Chris."
"I think," said Chris, ignoring Jess, "that they're being set up.
Sperle's so desperate for an arrest that he's trying to frame
them."
"Nonsense, Chris. They only do those things in the movies.
Whatever they do they still have to go through the judicial
process and if they've been found to have planted evidence,
they'll be kicked off the force."
"We'll see..." Chris said as she left.
Afterwards, Jess sat thinking. Chris did have a point, there
WASN'T any recent evidence of their involvement with drugs.
They're bound to be recreational users of marijuana, sure, but
little concrete proof that they were involved in anything, save
purchasing the odd deal bag.
It seemed to her that the whole thing stemmed from Hanlon's past
convictions for manufacturing, trafficking and selling drugs and
a bit of gossip from some gang associates. They all knew him,
anyway from prison days.
As for Treadwell, there was even less. He was an old friend of
Hanlon's and he'd come into a large sum of money recently,
nothing else. It seemed on the face of it, the detectives were
putting two and two together and getting five.
Afterwards, she told Hastings of her feelings, although she said
nothing about 'planting evidence.'
"Well, Y'know Sperle's been a long time on the force. He believes
in getting out there and snooping around rather than doing
paperwork. A lot of what he hears never gets put in those
reports. Real old school type. If he's said those two are up to
no good, I wouldn't bet against him."
The next day Gray was alone in the caf so Hastings decided to
begin the operation. They waited in the car across the street
until the table next to Gray became vacant, then Jess entered.
Gray looked up as she sat down and took out her newspaper. Jess
felt that her face was burning as she tried to concentrate on the
puzzle.
She'd already selected a clue to ask him but she waited a while
so as not to appear too obvious.
"Another Latte bowl, thanks Lois."
His voice startled her. She hadn't expected him to be so well
spoken.
"Sure Gray," the waitress replied with an easy air of
familiarity.
Jess suddenly felt out of place. This was Gray's haunt and she
was the intruder. She desperately wanted to get up and leave, to
back out. She stayed because she didn't want to appear foolish to
Hastings, Harewood and, above all, to Sperle.
With a sharp intake of breath to control her nerves she looked
across to the next table and asked,
"Excuse me. What have you got for 21 down?"
She tried to smile but it appeared false.
Gray looked up in surprise. Jess was relieved that he seemed as
flustered as she was.
"21 down... er... lets see... I've got 'catalogue' penciled in
but that stuffs up 19 across."
Jess glanced up at him furtively but saw he had his head back
down at the paper.
"19 across... have you got 'summer'?" Jess ventured.
"Damn! Of course... silly of me... that would make 23 down..."
Gray mumbled to himself.
Gray furiously scribbled in the clues. After a while he looked
up, smiling.
"Finished!" he announced, triumphantly.
"Can I borrow your paper?" Jess asked, feeling bolder, "I've
still got a bit to go."
"Sure," Gray said, happily.
As Jess filled in the rest of her puzzle she felt Gray's eyes on
her. ' Two puzzlers sharing a few clues,' she told herself to
calm her nervousness.
Gray, on the other hand, was trying to reconcile Jerry Hanlon's
conclusions about this woman. It intrigued him to think she might
be a cop.
"What do you do for a living?" he asked her.
Startled by the question, Jess had to think on her feet.
"I'm a Real Estate Agent," she replied, "or training to be..."
"Really?" Gray replied, interested, "I'm thinking of investing in
a bit of property myself. You wouldn't know of anything around,
locally."
"I'll have to check with the office... can I get back to you?"
Jess hoped she sounded businesslike.
"Tell you what," Gray pondered, "How about you give me your
mobile number and I'll give you a ring in a few days."
Jess thought briefly about the implications of this, but couldn't
think of any perils.
"Ok," she said, writing down her number on Gray's paper.
"Diane Sawyer," Gray read, "like that American interviewer?"
Jess sucked in her breath, 'stupid, stupid, stupid,' she said to
herself. 'Of course, that must have been where I heard the name,
on TV.'
Jess thought she had plucked the name out of the air, but now she
realised she'd heard it before.
"You must get that all the time," she heard Gray say.
"Um... yes," she smiled and got up to leave. "Must be going...
work to do."
Then she fled.
"It's ok, ok," Hastings was saying in the car afterwards, " I
heard everything, you did brilliantly."
"No I didn't... Diane Sawyer? I'm such a fool... and what do I
know about real estate? He'll be ringing me in a few days and
expect to be shown around some properties..."
"Simmer down, we can fix that up. An ex-cop has a realty business
over in Wentworth. I'll have a chat with her, ask her if she
needs an assistant. She can show you the ropes too."
"I was terrified... my nerves..."
"Just stick to your story, you'll be ok. Go home and get some
rest. I'll organise your cover story... good thinking on your
feet. I didn't expect him to snap so quickly. I think he likes
you... can you handle that?"
"Now THAT I can handle," replied Jess, "I've fended off more guys
than..."
"I bet you have," the detective said.
At the debriefing afterwards, Jess was told that she would have
to move house. Her present apartment was widely known among the
criminal fraternity as a police flat. Sperle had organised a
central city apartment for a few weeks and wanted her to move
right away.
"Leave everything behind with your address on it," he told her,
"no redirection order for your mail, we'll re post everything to
you. Nothing must connect you to the police, understand?"
Jess nodded, she was exhausted.
"Everything's furnished, just take your clothes and a few
personal things. Your father was a cop, no?"
"Jess nodded, again.
"No photos of the family then. We have a few you can spread
around to make it more convincing... some old family photos. Say
they're of old Uncle Harry or something. All your plates and
cutlery, etceteras have been used... nothing brand new-looking...
the boys have done a good job."
Jess's head swam with all the information. She went home straight
to bed to spend a last night in her old flat.
She dreamed she was a twelve again. Fleeting images of dolls,
little brothers and pretty dresses her mother used to make her
wear.
She was drinking a glass of cola but it tasted strange... then
she was dancing... she felt wonderful... light-headed.
A man sat on a chair, watching her. She wanted to please him and
make him happy. Little Jessica was putting on lipstick, she knew
it was forbidden and she felt so naughty. She pouted and made
faces at the man... sexy faces... she was licking a lollipop...
pushing it in and out of her mouth like she was sucking apenis.
But Jess didn't suck men's cocks. She didn't like the taste and
she thought it was demeaning. Little Jessica couldn't help
herself... someone had put something in her cola and it made her
do things she didn't want to do.
Now she was pulling up her dress for the man. He was saying,
'higher and higher,' and she was doing what he said. Jessica was
showing the stranger her little panties with the cartoon of
Minnie Mouse on them.
"Give me the panties," the stranger said.
She knew that voice, it was Gray's. His face resolved itself in
her dream and he was sitting there with a smirk on his face.
"Give me the panties," he repeated, " and you can have your
treat."
Both little Jessica and Jess knew what that treat was. It tented
his expensive jeans, threatening to burst through the zipper.
Jessica was exposed to his slobbering gaze. Gray was telling her
to put lipstick on her pussy. It was hairless and she was making
it bright red. Bright red nether lips to match her face.
"Come sit on my lap..." he was saying.
She was suddenly afraid. His cock was now in his hand and he was
rubbing it up and down, masturbating himself.
Jessica was frightened but also excited and gooey stuff was
seeping out of her cunt. It was all red and throbbed with
arousal.
She was sitting on his lap, now, with her back to him so that his
cock sprang up between her legs. His hand was still rubbing
himself but she wanted to touch it too. As she did so it grew and
grew until it nearly reached her chest.
Clear liquid was oozing out of the head and she wanted to lick it
off. When she touched it with her tongue it tasted bitter and she
wanted to be sick. Gray was forcing her head lower and lower but
she wanted to get off his lap.
Suddenly she was lying on the rug by the fire and Gray was trying
to force his enormous cock into her little entrance. It didn't
fit but he was pushing anyway. She thought it was going to tear
her.
Jess woke in a cold sweat to see Chris, once again standing over
her.
"Sorry..." she said, "only I thought you were having another bad
dream."
Jess shook herself fully awake and replied,
"I was... at least I think I was... it was weird."
"I'll say!" Chris laughed, "you sure need a boyfriend."
"Huh, why?"
"Well... um... because when I came in you were... I guess... How
should I put this? You were giving yourself a good time," Chris
said, giggling.
"Oh... you mean... oh god!" Jess replied, covering her face.
"Must have been a good dream. Who was the lucky guy, if you don't
mind me being nosy?"
"I can't... I'm too embarrassed..."
"Someone I know? A cop? Hastings? I think he's got his eye on
you."
Jess shook her head.
"I can't say..."
"Gray Treadwell?" Chris shrieked with laughter, "you've got the
hots for Gray Treadwell?"
"No!" Jess protested.
"Yes you have, look at your face, you're scarlet."
Jess threw a pillow at her friend as she bounced out of the
room.
She was glad to be getting out of the flat for a while and living
by herself. Chris was beginning to get on her nerves. Jess wished
she'd stop that silly dumb-blond, girl's school act she puts on.
Chris had a habit of treating everything as if it was a big
game.
Her new home was pretty nice and in a good location. Sperle told
her that she was to be the daughter of real estate agents who'd
done pretty well for themselves and they weren't going to stand
having their daughter living in a slum. Sperle told her that
Realty tended to run in families, like Policemen.
Gray rang her on the third day. She was now 'working' for
Sampson's Real Estate as a trainee and had spent the last couple
of days learning all about property, especially the jargon.
"Dianne?" Gray said, "Gray Treadwell, we met in the Rainbow Caf
and..."
"Oh yes," replied Jess, "you're looking for investment
properties."
"That's right."
"Have you a price range... location in mind?" Jess had been
coached about this conversation.
"Maybe near the University... around the $100,000, $150,000 mark.
Nothing too flashy but not a slum either."
"Sure, sure. I think we have got a few places that might interest
you... property is moving pretty fast at the moment, especially
that area. Are you free this afternoon?"
"Sure, after lunch?"
"Lets see, I have a 1 o'clock, how about 2?"
"Ok, 2 then."
Jess gave him the address of Sampson's then rang off.
"Hold the file in your hand," Hastings was telling her, "gives
your hands something to do. Hold it to your chest, sort of like a
psychological shield."
Jess thought the mention of her 'chest' made Hastings blush.
She'd been listening to Chris too much.
"You'll be on your own... but don't worry. Keep your cellphone
handy and program '1' in. If you get into trouble, push 'send'
and we'll be there in minutes, ok?"
"Got it!"
"Don't be too clever with these people, Jess. Criminals like
Treadwell are quick on the uptake. Just play the Real Estate act
as we rehearsed and let it play out."
Jess thought he was more nervous then she was. Perhaps Chris was
right and he had a thing for her.
"Don't worry, I'll be ok," Jess re-assured the Detective.
Gray was prompt. He shook her hand briefly and she escorted him
to the company car.
"The first one's over by the hills, nice outlook but a bit more
than what you wanted to pay."
Jess had learned the old trick of showing the expensive
properties first. Testing to see how high he would be willing to
go.
As they drove to the properties Gray talked amiably. Curiously he
seem to dodge questions about himself but instead asked about
her.
Jess told him the cover story.
"My parents were in realty and it's all I've wanted to do."
"Jess had substituted 'realty' for 'Police' otherwise it wasn't
far from the truth. ' Keep your stories simple,' Hastings had
told her.
"So what about yourself?" Jess asked him, "what do you do?"
"Retired," Gray said, " don't need to work anymore, so Idon't."
"So, what, you keep investments?"
Jess was pushing him and she knew it.
"Stock market, you mean? Might as well bet on the horses... I
keep my money tight..." Gray replied, vaguely.
"So, are you married?" Jess said, changing the subject.
"Why? You looking for a job?" he said, smiling.
Jess flushed bright red. She wished she didn't do that when she
felt embarrassed.
"No way... I'm single and loving it," Jess told him with more
fervour than she intended.
"Sorry, just kidding," Gray told her, abashed.
"No, it's alright... just a bit of stuff came up lately... um...
the next place is up this hill... to the right."
"Sounds like you've got a story or two to tell," the man said, "
come for a drink afterwards and we can discuss it."
"Um... can't I'm sorry... got other clients," Jess told him, a
little flustered.
"No worries," Gray said, " perhaps another time?"
"Sure," Jess found herself saying, "now this was built in the
fifties..."
Jess had got through the first meeting and had set up the next.
Things were going along just fine.
'This is too easy,' she thought to herself, 'who's playingwho?'
Part three follows.
Katzmarek
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