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Subject: {ASSM} Undercover (Part 3) By Katzmarek (MF, rom, slow)
Date: Thu, 8 May 2003 18:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Undercover 03.doc" begin>
Undercover 03
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.
"You're going to have to meet him without a wire from now on,"
Hastings was telling Jess, "it's too risky."
"Risky?" she asked.
"Yeah. We believe Treadwell has his house covered with passive
sensors. Those things are cheap and sensitive and would pick up
even the smallest transmissions. I wish we could get one of those
microwave thingys the Government Intelligence people use, but
budgets and inter-service jealousy and all that stuff being what
it is..."
"The computer geeks slipped one of their fancy gadgets into his
house," Sperle chipped in, "was supposed to allow us to tap into
his harddrive. Nothing happened... they think he located and
disabled it. Say Hastings, do you think we can confiscate his
computer? Child pornography?"
"No evidence. It wouldn't run before a Judge."
"Evidence? Come on, Hastings, everyone has that stuff on their
home computers these days," Sperle said grinning.
"I don't," replied Hastings.
"Yeah, I sometimes wonder if you've ever seen your WIFE naked."
"Hey!"
"Calm down, just joking."
Jess tried to prevent herself blushing, with little success.
As the briefing broke up, Hastings approached her,
"I've got permission for you to spend some money on clothes.
Stuff with labels... expensive. Nip out and spend the afternoon
shopping. Just make sure you get receipts for everything.
Remember your mummy and daddy spend a lot on you. You're an only
child."
The detective grinned.
"Think you can handle a bit of uptown shopping?"
"It will be a burden," Jess said beaming with delight.
"Here's a credit card in the name of Dianne Sawyer. The envelope
has a piece of paper with the password on it. Give me a signature
as Dianne Sawyer and I'll put it into the banking system. Now,
the card has a 20 grand limit, which will be ALL your expenses.
If you need any more you'd better come up with a good story."
"20 grand sounds fine," Jess said, still grinning like a cat.
"Don't get carried away. It won't take much to burn through the
card limit while living the high life. You don't realise how easy
it is to spend other people's money."
"I'll be careful."
"Receipts, Jess, even for a packet of gum..." Hastings said after
her, as she left.
"20 fucking grand, are you kidding me?" Chris said when the two
women met for lunch.
"Shh... I thought you'd like to come with me, seeing you're on
early shift. You can help me choose..."
"Let's go," Chris said quickly.
"Hey, wait. Remember I have to hand it all back afterwards."
"What, they're going to sell the Commissioner's wife your used
French lingerie? I don't think so."
Chris told her that this was the best fun you can have with your
clothes on. Jess doubted that, although she couldn't say she ever
had a lot of fun with her clothes off.
If it weren't for Chris, she'd have brought practically nothing
except a business suit and a set of casuals. Her friend pulled
her into a designer lingerie shop first of all.
"You need something sexy for those romantic nights in front of
the log fire," Chris told her, "Treadwell won't know what hit
him."
"For the last time, Chris, I'm not going to sleep with him. He
does nothing for me... he's too old... skinny... and he's a drug
smuggler... and he's losing his hair. He looks like a freak."
"Get him to shave his hair off then. I like that 'skin look,' so
butch."
"That wouldn't give him a personality, or take 15 years off him,"
Jess replied.
"Hastings then. He's about 28 or so... he's got all his hair...
and he's a nice guy..."
"And married..." Jess added.
"You've checked him out then. Married guys are perfect... you
don't have to fix them dinner afterwards... and they buy you lots
of stuff."
"I wonder about you sometimes, Chris..." Jess told her.
A couple of lingerie outfits, some business suits and designer
jeans later and the credit card was down about $9,000. Some top
range cosmetics rounded off the afternoon. Chris was bubbling
with enthusiasm but it had been difficult for Jess to get into
the swing of things.
It was harder than she thought to spend other people's money.
Jess kept thinking of a scene where she had to explain to Sperle
what she'd spent the money on and she felt guilty. She imagined
him picking over every item and getting her to justify
everything. She had to admit she was afraid of the old
detective.
She was in the briefing room, the next day, when her cellphone
peeped.
"Diane?" Gray said on the phone, "Gray Treadwell, What are you
doing after work today? Would you like to meet me for a drink and
we can discuss my property options."
Jess mouthed 'Gray' to Hastings and he looked instantly on
alert.
"Sure," she tried to sound matter-of-fact, "where?"
Gray suggested a little waterfront bar called, 'Silvio's,' and
she agreed to meet around six.
"We can get a bite to eat there," Gray said, "they do great
pizza."
"Right," Hastings said afterwards, "good. I'm going to arrange
for a young officer called John Vickers, do you know him?"
Jess nodded.
"He'll be drinking at the bar when you get there. Arrange with
him a signal and if you are getting into trouble he'll come in as
an old friend and pull you out of the situation. Listen carefully
to what Gray tells you, even the smallest details might be
important. Above all, relax, and don't get drunk."
"I can handle it."
Jess wished she felt as confident as she tried to sound.
She dressed in one of her new business suits, supposedly having
come straight from work. As Jess entered the bar, she immediately
saw Constable Vickers at a table by the door. They briefly caught
each other's eye before Jess looked around for Gray.
She spotted him sitting on a barstool and went over.
"Hi."
"Hi."
They greeted each other, nervously.
"What'll you have?" Gray asked.
"A Brandy and Ginger, thanks."
Jess thought it was the sort of drink 'Diane Sawyer' wouldhave.
"Top shelf already," Gray said, raising his eyebrows.
"Hey Iannis," Gray called to the barman, "Brandy and Ginger and
I'll have a Corona with a lemon twist."
"Fucking yuppie," replied the old barman, smiling.
"Pretentious bastard," Gray called back.
"Hey!"
They both laughed.
Again, Jess had that 'out-of-place' feeling again. This was
another of Gray's haunts and she felt vulnerable. 'Small talk,'
she told herself.
"So, how did you do today?" Gray asked, taking up thechallenge.
Shaken loose from her thoughts, Jess replied,
"Not bad... took around a couple of clients... I'm learning about
presentations... finding out the difference between sidings and
types of foundations... plumbing... that sort of thing."
"You're doing your block courses up here at the College?" Gray
asked her.
Jess froze inside. It sounded like Gray knew a thing or two about
Realty.
"Um, yes... the College," she replied, unconvincingly.
"My dad is head of department up there. He designed the course...
you ought to talk to him... there's nothing he doesn't know about
property."
Jess's chest tightened in fear. Her little voice inside told her
she was out of her depth.
"Sure... I'll do that," she managed to say.
"How long to go before you get your license?" Gray asked.
"A year," she blurted out without thinking, "that is... if I pass
the exams."
"Oh you will... you're good," Gray smiled, "you could sell igloos
to Arabs."
Jess laughed, it released her tension a little. She somehow felt
very pleased at the compliment.
"So," she said, "is there anything you're interested in?"
A smirk flashed across Gray's face. Jess was suddenly aware of
the unintentional double entendre and blushed.' He thinks I'm
flirting,' her little voice told her.
"One or two things," Gray replied, smiling.
Jess thought he glanced at her chest. 'I'm sending out all the
wrong signals,' she told herself.
Just as she was thinking of a reply, she felt a hand on her
shoulder,
"Diane!"
It was Vickers.
"Haven't seen you in ages. How's the real estate business."
"Doug... ah... good to see you, cousin," Jess said, pointedly.
"Doug Jackson," Vickers said as he leaned across to shake Gray's
hand, " I'm Diane's cousin."
Things were getting too complicated for Jess. 'What was that
buffoon doing?' She hadn't signaled him. She bristled with
anger.
"Won't you join us?" Gray asked Vickers.
'NO!' Jess screamed inside.
"Another time perhaps... I'm expecting company... a hot date."
'The fucking ham,' Jess thought, 'he's making a dick of
himself.'
Gray coughed slightly and said,
"Sure... nice to meet you... have a good night."
Thankfully, for Jess Vickers left them in peace.
"He sounded optimistic?" Gray commented.
"He's a wanker," Jess replied, bristling with anger. "Excuse me a
moment, will you? I need to visit the bathroom."
Gray nodded and Jess got up and headed towards the door, passing
Vicker's table. As she drew level she turned to him and, smiling,
said under her breath,
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Vickers smiled back and replied,
"Just giving you a bit of support. It's getting boring just
sitting here."
"Be bored... and stay out of my way... unless I call, okmoron?"
Gray watched the exchange from across the bar, puzzled. It seemed
to him there was some little game going on there.
In the bathroom, Jess decided she must get back to business. Upon
returning, she asked Gray how much money he had to invest in
property.
"So I have an idea," she told him.
After considering for a while, Gray replied,
"About 11 million, give or take."
The breath went out of Jess. She mouthed the figure back at him
to find him nodding.
"Are you serious?" she asked.
Gray nodded, again.
"Where the hell did you get that kind of money? Rob a bank?" Jess
blurted out without thinking.
"That's what everyone asks," Gray answered, "like I can't have
run a successful business or made some wise investments. Everyone
takes one look at me and thinks I stole it or something."
"Sorry... I... I mean I guess it's so much... and..."
"It was 18 million, but I've spent a bit. You know what the cops
think?"
Jess was on alert.
"They think I'm a big time drug boss or something. I've got a
friend with a lot of gang contacts and he hears stuff. I get
really pissed off with it all sometimes. Just because I like to
mind my own business... there's all these assumptions... well
fuck them!"
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..."
"No I'm sorry," he touched her hand, "you just touched a nerve...
not your fault... it was a natural question."
Later, outside the bar, Gray said goodbye. He didn't try to
invite Jess back, just shook her hand and left. Jess thought it
was cute of him. He'd plainly wanted to kiss her but had gone all
shy.
Hastings wanted to debrief straight away, while everything was
still fresh. He hovered over her like a mother hen while he set
up the tape recorder.
"Well done, well done," he kept saying.
After she'd recounted everything she could remember, the
detective said,
"Yes, we'll have to have a little talk with Vickers. He said he
had 18 million? Hmm, there's been no strike on the lottery THAT
big to my knowledge. There's no record of him ever having been in
business, either. Family in real estate? That was a stroke of
luck, gave you an instant conversation subject."
"Too lucky, if you ask me. I could have blown my cover story."
"But you hung in there, that's the important thing. It doesn't
sound as if he got suspicious. We'll soon know when, or if he
calls again."
"What do you think about, what he said... about the Police
thinking he's a drug lord?" Jess asked.
"Testing you, I expect... don't read too much into it... these
guys are always full of bullshit... it's their trade."
"I think he was really pissed off about it," Jess argued.
"Don't believe a word... they love it... the notoriety... They
all say that the police do this and that to them. They tell each
other these hard-luck stories about police harassment, and it's
all crap and they love every minute of it... If they didn't love
it they'd be doing an honest trade, like real estate"
Jess wasn't so certain.
That night, Jess fingered herself mercilessly and this time there
was no Chris to interrupt her. She needed to work off some
tension.
It was generally the same scenario that worked for her. She
imagined been taken, bound and struggling, while some faceless
man forced her to do things she'd never do in real life.
Things like fellatio and exhibitionism and various rape
fantasies. They repelled and fascinated her at the same time.
Gray figured often in her dreams, always with an impossibly large
penis. Jess's dreams turned him into a cruel monster although now
she began to add clever, persuasive speech to her fantasy of
him.
Jess knew there was little of the 'real' Gray in her fantasy. He
was neither a persuasive nor a particularly clever raconteur and
she was pretty sure he wasn't a sexual monster. Perhaps, deep
down, she painted him the way she wanted him to be.
Jess judged him to be an amiable, educated guy with some mystery
to hide. That mystery had got everyone, including the police and
herself intrigued. Otherwise he could be anyone's cousin, though
with a lot more finesse than Constable John Vickers.
God, that young cop was an idiot!
The next day Gray and Jerry Hanlon were sitting in the sun on
Gray's balcony. Jerry drew on a joint and blew the smoke out into
the morning breeze.
"You'll get us all busted," Gray told his friend.
"No way man. They're watching us, you know. You and me...
probably got a position set up behind us... in one of those
houses up the hill."
"You're paranoid, Jerry," Gray told him.
"That's what I heard, man. We're hot at the moment... any strange
vans parked in the street all day... servicemen calling... has
anyone been inside your place when you've been out?"
"Dude called a few weeks ago. Asked if he could look around...
doing valuations in the street."
"That's bullshit, man. They've got a book, they look all that
stuff up. It's all fucking guesswork, anyway."
"Yeah, well, I thought it was a bit strange... good talker,
though... had me convinced."
"So where did this dude go?"
"Everywhere, I just told him to look around," Gray told him.
"You're too trusting, man. He probably bugged the place... maybe
planted a hot relay on your computer. They're tapping you,man!"
"They can do what they like. The house walls are lead shielded,"
Gray grinned.
"You smartarse!" Jerry laughed.
"Not me... some previous owner was a bit particular about his
security. Pain in the arse, though. It means my bloody radio
doesn't work unless I plug it into an outside aerial. Fucked up
my TV too."
"That's hilarious, man," Jerry said laughing, " I bet the cops
are going nuts wondering why none of their bugs are working. They
probably think you're some clever dude and flushed them all down
the garbage disposal."
"Rubbish Jerry, I think you're making a mountain out of a
molehill. No judge would grant the cops permission to tap me.
They can't have any evidence."
"You think so? Give me a look at your computer," Jerry said,
defiantly.
Gray showed Jerry his computer room and his friend went straight
to the back of the drive.
"See that? On the end of your monitor cable... see that gizmo?
It's sending a signal to a van outside somewhere. They'd be
watching your screen every time you switch on... following
everything you do... or would... if they could get a bloody
signal... haha."
"Shit Jerry... what the fuck do I do?" Gray asked him, shocked.
"Nothing, Gray... can't fight the system.... They do this shit
all the time.... It's a police, fucking state, man."
Gray was in a state of shock. Hitherto he'd treated the rumours
of a police investigation of him as a little bit of a joke. But
now it was sheeted home to him that someone at Police Central was
out to get him, Gray Treadwell, millionaire. It made his blood
boil.
Later, Jerry suggested they check out some food at one of the
beachside caf's. Over a couple of beers, Jerry asked him,
"So I hear you're trotting out with that cop, from theRainbow?"
"Real Estate agent, Jerry," replied Gray, " and all I did was
meet her for a drink... Nothing happened."
"Stiffed you eh?"
"Nothing was going to happen. She's a nice girl... showed me some
property... that's all."
"Well, she and her blond friend can show me their property
anytime," Jerry said, leering. "Go on... tell me you wouldn't
give her a bone... given the chance."
Gray smiled.
That afternoon, Jess had a appointment with the police
psychologist, a Doctor Schiller. The smart, greying man greeted
Jess with a warm smile.
"How's it all going, Constable, any problems?"
"Not really... just some doubts," Jess answered.
"Normal, tell me about them."
Jess explained to Dr Schiller all her suspicions about Gray's
innocence. She even told him about Chris's theory about Sperle.
"Nothing leaves this room, ok?" The man reassured her, "remember
this though, all your doubts are normal. You must set aside,
'bracket' your feelings and keep your objectivity. These guys can
be charming," he went on, " and they're born liars. They believe
their own bullshit. They all think they're so much cleverer than
the Police... big egos. That's what trips them up in the finish,
they outsmart themselves."
Schiller explained that Jess might feel some 'sympathy' for the
target. She might even feel drawn to him and that that was a very
'human' response. He encouraged her to call him, day and night,
if she felt the pressure overwhelming her.
The following night Gray rang her on her cellphone and talked her
ear off for half and hour. He told Jess about the tap on his
computer and the probability his house was bugged. He was
obviously spooked.
"Some previous owner had the house lead-shielded, otherwise the
cops could hear me taking a crap, it's freaky."
Nonplussed, Jess tried to sound sympathetic. She wasn't sure why
he was telling her all this.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked him.
"I've got the thing right here... goes on my harddrive... I'm no
computer expert, but I know what should be there and what
isn't."
"Ok, ok... I'm sure it must be a mistake... there's the Police
Complaints Authority... and the Ombudsman... you should report
things like that," Jess told him.
"Waste of time," Gray replied, "I've no proof it was the cops
that planted the thing. Do you know of any islands for sale... in
the Gulf?"
Jess said she hadn't heard of any. Gray explained that he felt
like his house had been violated... that he needed to move. He
laughingly asked her whether she had room at her place.
Although tempted to invite him over, she demurred, and suggested
they meet tomorrow for lunch.
Jess needed time to process the latest developments and to report
to her supervisor. She didn't know whether she believed him or
not. She kept down the nagging doubts she was feeling about this
all being a big mistake.
She rang in the following morning and was asked to come in to
Central.
When Jess arrived at the debrief room, she found it was full of
people. Besides the detectives, there were people from Drug
Intelligence and the Computer section. She never realised before
just how many resources had been ploughed into catching Gray.
She took a seat with everyone else. Harewood and Sperle stood in
front with their whiteboards, mug-shots and diagrams.
Sperle conducted proceedings.
"People, we need to have a full re-assessment of the
investigation. I am of the opinion that Treadwell and Hanlon are
preparing to go to ground. It's all hit the fan and we need some
ideas. Constable Dayshe, give us the nuts of your conversation
with Treadwell last night."
Jess rose from her seat and gave an outline of what Gray told
her. A computer guy slapped his head and exclaimed,
"Lead! Damn, no wonder."
"Doesn't matter now," said Sperle, " we wont be getting anything
useful, even if we tear down his bloody walls."
Someone said,
"I wouldn't like to try and get an order for that."
And a few laughed.
"Hastings," Sperle said, " do you think he's sending a message to
us... through Dayshe?"
"Maybe," Hastings said, " or he's feeling isolated and thinks
Jess is a good listener."
The detective glanced at Jess.
"What do you think?" he asked her.
"Um... he was angry... and scared... I don't think he realised he
had been bugged... at least that's what I think. He was pissed
off and needed someone to talk to... that's my impression, sir,"
Jess replied to the group.
"You might be our only hope of keeping the investigation alive,"
Harewood told Jess, " are you meeting again?"
"Lunch, sir,"
Jess felt embarrassed.
"Go with it and see what you come up with. Just don't go for a
picnic in the mountains, ok?"
"No sir," Jess replied to a polite murmur.
Part 4 follows.
Katzmarek
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