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Subject: {ASSM} Undercover (Part 4) By Katzmarek (Slow, MF, Rom)
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<1st attachment, "Undercover 04.doc" begin>
Undercover 04
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 4
Gray Treadwell and Jerry Hanlon sat in the office of Roger
Swinbourne, Lawyer, campaigner against Police procedural abuse
and champion of the little guy. He was explaining Police powers
of search and seizure and electronic surveillance.
"Ordinarily, the Police have to come up with a pretty good case
to get the court to grant them an order to tap a private citizen.
However, the Drugs Act gives them pretty wide powers of search
without a court order, providing they can prove reasonable
grounds afterwards. The public doesn't much care if a few
liberties are taken providing drugs are kept out of the
schoolyard.
Now,"
The young firebrand went on,
"Guys like Ted Sperle take all that a step forward and claim they
can do what they like and bug someone providing at the end of the
day they've got a bag of cocaine to prove they were right in the
first place. The Courts have been rubber stamping him because he
DOES get results. In your case,"
He turned to Gray,
"They don't really have anything at all... just some gossip...
and the cops wouldn't have been granted a Court order to bug your
place under ordinary legislation. You guys are innocent,right?"
"Absolutely!" Gray said.
"Then they've got to justify their actions. Especially wiring
your house, Gray, That sucks."
Both men nodded in agreement.
"Then I'll send their legal section a solicitor's letter telling
them we are seeking our own court order requiring them to put up
or shut up. Should be fun..."
Everyone was grinning, maliciously. 'Time for a littlepayback.'
"What about the newspapers?" Jerry asked.
"Too 'right wing' at the moment. They'll print the story on page
nine below a piece about some kid caught smoking dope in the
school toilets.
Good, upright, solid citizens going about their lawful business,
having their rights abused by corrupt police officialdom, they'd
love that. But you guys are neither, that's why you're targets.
Hanlon, known criminal with connections to the drug underworld,
and Treadwell, man of mystery who won't get his hair cut and
doesn't attend church. Gray?"
He asked, looking into his eyes,
"If only you'd tell the world where your sudden wealth came from,
this would blow over."
"Then you wouldn't have a Cause, Roger."
"Well as your lawyer and friend, I have to tell you, you're going
to have to come clean about it, sometime."
Gray sighed and leaned back in his chair.
At noon, Jess made her way down to the Rainbow for her lunch with
Gray. Ted Hastings had given her dire warnings about Treadwell's
possible state of mind.
"Be careful, Jess," he told her, " he probably suspects his
Dentist of putting microphones in his molars. He could get nasty,
so tread carefully and don't push him. Just listen to what he has
to say."
Gray looked haggard when Jess met him in the caf. He was sitting
in his usual table but this time there was no crossword puzzle in
front of him. Instead he was puffing on a cigarette.
"I didn't think you smoked?" Jess said.
"I don't, or didn't... not for a few years... just started
again."
Jess sat down and ordered a coffee. She was pleased to see the
waitress recognised her, it made her more relaxed.
"So how are you?" Jess asked him.
"Really angry, Diane. I don't know whether to move or stay and
tough it out."
Jess was put off, at first, by his use of her 'cover name.'
Somehow she expected them to be on more familiar terms,
illogically.
"I saw my lawyer this morning. I'm going to complain... me and
Jerry."
"That's the story...good on you" Jess told him, breezily.
"Don't patronise me!" Gray bristled.
"Sorry... I'm... just trying to help... don't know what to say,"
Jess stumbled.
"Nah, I'm sorry... I don't trust anyone at the moment...I see
cops everywhere... bugs in my soup,"
Jess grinned at the pun.
"I was talking to my dad yesterday," Gray said, " asked him about
you..."
Jess's whole body went into panic. Her face froze, her stomach
formed a knot.
"... Didn't remember you. His memory's going I think. He should
get out and raise his roses. He's too old to be still working.
Silly bugger!"
Jess relaxed a little. She decided to say nothing, just listen.
"Dad knows your boss, Veronica, really well. He told me he
trained her when she got out of the police force. Did you know
she used to be a cop?"
Jess swallowed, her mouth went dry.
"Dad said she was bloody brilliant... lots of confidence... one
of those 'can do' people.
Shit I hate that term. So fucking eighties... I hated the
eighties. The country lost its soul and went on a Lolly scramble.
No one gave a stuff about anyone, anymore. All they cared about
was each other's bank balance, and which BMW they couldafford."
"No," Jess nodded in agreement.
"You liked the eighties, Diane?"
"Um... I was born in 1981..."
"Of course, you're just a puppy," Gray said, smiling.
The waitress brought Jess her coffee.
"Are you a cop?" Gray said.
Jess looked up, panicking, but Gray was looking at Lois, the
waitress.
"Sure... vice squad," Lois said, chuckling.
When she left, Gray looked Jess in the face. He glanced down at
the table and reached for another Lucky Strike.
"What's scaring you, Diane? You look like you want to run for
your burrow."
"Burrow? Oh, in 'scared rabbit,' I get it. Um, don't know...
you... seem so down... I."
"Hmm, do I make you nervous, why?"
Jess shrugged.
"I don't know what you expect of me... I barely know you..." she
said.
"What do you want to know?"
"Well... I..." Jess fished around searching for a question. "What
did you use to do... before you retired?"
"A writer!"
"Really, what did you write?" Jess relaxed at the new line of
conversation.
"Pornography."
"Oh?"
Jess wondered if he was trying to shock her. The answer took the
wind out of her sails.
"And other stuff... whatever. You understand why I don't tell
everyone?"
"Yes," Jess was blushing.
"People always want to know where I get my ideas."
Jess emitted a little half-laugh.
"So! Did Conan Doyle fight for Napoleon then invent Etienne
Gerard?"
"What?"
"Napoleonic Stories, I used to read them when I was at school."
"Oh. So, is that where you made your money, writing... porno?"
"You heard of Jordane Gray?"
"The romance novelist?"
Gray nodded.
"No... you can't be... she's a woman... her novels are
everywhere... No! She's American, isn't she? Gray, are you lying
to me? I don't believe it."
"And Betty Whitehouse, Davina Smith, Anna Grayson and I think
there's Annette somebody... I forget."
'Annette Chatsworth?"
"Yeah, that's it... they brought her out last year."
"But I've read her! I mean, you, shit! Are you serious?"
Gray shrugged.
"You are all those people? Gray... if you're lying... my god! She
was on the best seller list for ages."
"Sunrise Surprise? I wrote in two weeks, flat out, day and night,
600 and 40 something pages, I think. Then I had a holiday in the
islands for a month... then I wrote 'Hong Kong Incident' as Anna
Grayson. That was a hell of a year. Three best sellers under
three different noms."
Jess was shocked. She didn't know whether to believe Gray or not,
it seemed such an incredible story.
"So now it's your turn, Diane," Gray said, fixing her with a
stare. "What's your story?
My dad never forgets a face, or a name, Miss Sawyer. Why did you
name yourself after a famous American TV personality? That was
your first big mistake."
"Oh... um."
Jess was struck dumb. Her mouth worked but nothing came out. Her
face must be a bright shade of red by now, she thought.
"The second was picking Real Estate as a profession. You should
have researched your subject more carefully."
"Yes," Jess said, miserably.
"Your third was your 'cousin.' You need to keep your minders
under control. Tell me 'you're just going to have a word with
him,' when you go to give him his orders. That 'bathroom' gag was
just unnecessary."
"You knew all the time?"
"Jerry did. He's a very sharp guy. He notices things that I miss.
I guess my ego wanted to believe you were chasing me for my wit
and good looks. But, in hindsight, why would a beautiful, 22 year
old, smart, sexy woman want with me?
My money? You could have money AND youth and brains. Looking
back, it was far too obvious.
Tell me," Gray leaned closer,
"Would you have slept with me, if I'd asked?"
"Um... no... probably not," Jess told him.
"Nah, you were far too wary... I thought not. I've sure blown my
chances now," he said, ruefully.
"I guess so," Jess said, blushing.
"Pity. Are you going to make a report. Tell your boss everything
I told you?"
"Have to, it's my job," Jess said.
"Yes, your job! Y'know, I guess that's what really hurts. You
were just, 'doing your job.' Snooping into other people's lives
and fucking them around." Gray screwed up his eyes and looked
away.
"For a while there I hoped... Fuck it! I really thought for a
moment like a Prince who'd met his Princess....
I've written too many books... I'm beginning to believe my own
bullshit."
"I'm sorry..." Jess said, sadly.
Tears were beginning to fill her eyes.
"You'll meet someone... you're a nice guy... I didn't mean to do
this to you."
"Yes you did, Diane, that's the whole point. Get out of the habit
of patronising people... we're all grown-ups and can deal with
our feelings.
You're suppose to say, ' get out of your self-pity.' That's what
my character in 'Hong Kong Incident' would say."
"I'm not a character in one of your novels, Gray," Jess said.
Gray bristled with anger.
"No! You're not, are you?"
"Is that how see life? As a cheap romance novel?"
"You'd better fuck off now, I think," Gray spat, " you disgust
me. You all disgust me."
Jess got up to go. As she walked towards the door, she turned
back and said,
"Well things wouldn't have got to this stage if you weren't such
a prick."
"Well, at least I don't fuck criminals for a living, bitch!" Gray
yelled after her.
"Arsehole," Jess yelled back as she slammed the door.
You could have heard a pin drop in the Rainbow. Everyone was
staring at Gray. Lois, the waitress, broke the silence,
"That's was deep!"
"Shut up, Lois."
"Scotch?"
"Please!"
Jess got into Warren Hastings car and slammed the door. She
stared straight ahead as the detective pulled away from the
kerb.
"Everything go alright?" Hastings asked.
"He's a fucking romance writer, Warren."
"Eh? Are you sure?"
"Yes I'm fucking sure," Jess replied angrily. "He writes under
all these alias's and, he didn't say, but he's written for
Television because I used to watch, 'Jordane Gray presents' when
I was a teenager. Mum used to let me stay up on Friday nights
when the school week was over and I'd sit and watch the stupid
shit."
"I see," Warren said, helplessly.
"There was this beautiful lady wearing the neatest clothes who
used to front each episode and I always thought it was Jordane
herself. She was just a stand in for that sorry, miserable loser
of a guy who buries himself for weeks churning out that stuff and
making millions of bucks. He can't even get himself a fucking
girlfriend and he writes all this stuff about desire and ...
fucking passion. He's nothing but a fucking fraud."
"Hey, slow down! Start from the top."
"I'm sorry... It... got a bit rough."
"So I gather... just organise your thoughts and tell me when
you're ready."
"You should have been a psychologist, Warren," Jess told him.
"A good cop has to be a bit of everything, Jess."
Back at the station, the presence of Ted Sperle renewed Jess's
anger. 'He's the guy who put me into all this,' her little voice
was telling her.
"So he told you he was a novelist, right? Romance stuff, 'penny
dreadfuls' my dad used to call them," Sperle was saying.
"And porn, under different nom de plumes," Jess cut in.
"We should have seized his computer, the dirty bastard!"
"He told her that Hanlon and he had busted her cover from the get
go," Warren intervened.
"They all say that, Warren, ego shit. Well... I suppose we can
check his story... get on to the publisher. Sounds like a load of
crap, though."
"Creative crap, sir," Hastings said.
"Very creative," Sperle agreed, "I haven't heard a story like
that... well, ever, actually. Dayshe, you'll have to go back on
general duties now. There's nothing more for you here. Warren,
sort out the paperwork will you?"
"Do you think Constable Dayshe should have some time off? To
readjust?"
"What are we running around here, a holiday camp? I suppose we
can give her a few days, get her shit in order. Um... well done
Constable... I'm sorry we didn't get a result, but that's the way
it goes, sometimes. He'll screw up, they all do eventually...
I'll get you to read him his rights when the day comes... They
call that 'closure' don't they Hastings?"
"Yes sir."
"Good, you tidy up Warren. I've got to explain all this to the
Commissioner."
"Yes sir."
After going over the paperwork with Jess, Hastings pulled her
aside,
"How are you coping?" he asked her.
"Pissed off."
"That's normal."
"I don't know who to blame, Sperle for putting me on this job,
Gray for giving everyone the run-around, or myself, for not doing
things right and getting my cover blown," Jess told him,
dejectedly.
"Maybe all, or none... just one of those things... sometimes
operations go bad."
"Tell me? Do you think Gray Treadwell is a banker for a drug
syndicate? And he made all that stuff up?"
"My instinct?"
Jess nodded.
"Sperle gets his information from the street. He's been out there
a long time and I trust him to know what's reliable and what's
not. But... lately... I think he's burning out. I don't think
he's being objective about this one... Many things... well, they
don't add up.
A hotshot Lawyer called Swinbourne rang the commissioner,
apparently, and is starting to rattle a few cages. Politically,
the Drug Squad will have to change the way it does things. I tell
you this, Jess, we have exploited a grey area in the law for a
long time and it's coming back to bite us.
I think Treadwell will win this round, not because he's innocent,
but because we've let ourselves become exposed, legally, and
that's not a good situation. I think Gray is a shrewd customer
and, if I was put on the spot, I'd say he's guilty as sin."
"Why?"
"Treadwell and Hanlon have being playing us like a fiddle, why?
If they've got nothing to hide why didn't they front up and tell
their stories."
"Perhaps they thought they wouldn't be believed? Gray didn't know
we'd bugged his house until Hanlon told him. Up till then he
thought it was a funny game."
"A game? Shit Jess... Do you know why we talk to a suspect's
neighbours?
Jess shrugged.
"Because we know it will get back to them. We then observe their
behaviour."
Hastings leant against the wall. He continued,
"Mr. Innocent pounds down to the station, first thing, with his
lawyer. He wants to make a statement and clear his name.
Your top-shelf criminal says to himself, 'yeah? Come and get me,
I'm too smart for you.' He thinks he can stay ahead of thegame.
The game, Jess, the adrenaline buzz, your Treadwell is a player.
That's how he incriminates himself, to my way of thinking."
"Well he's got a lawyer now, Warren."
"A ploy, Jess. Swinbourne's not interested in clearing Treadwell.
He wants to expose our dastardly behaviour for his own ends.
I wouldn't be surprised if he's running for Parliament in a few
years. Treadwell knows this, he's just trying to rub our noses in
it.
We really walked into that ourselves. That's why I'm pissed off
with Sperle.
He's not himself, Jess. He never did the proper groundwork and he
left to many cracks for Treadwell to wriggle through."
Gray was drunk. Jerry Hanlon and him were stretched out on Gray's
big easy chairs in the lounge. Pink Floyd's Ummagumma was playing
softly in the background.
"Haven't heard this in fucking ages, man..." Jerry told him.
"Takes ya back, eh?" Gray replied.
"Ya shoulda fucked her, Gray... ffucked her and told her shit,
man. I woulda."
"Yeah... but it's not your face I have ta look at in th'
mirror."
"See man... you'ra fuckin' gen'leman... you're too fuckin'
decent... shi' man... That's why they hate ya, man... y'didn't
play their game, see?"
"Y'never know 'bout people... on the surface... really nice...
underneath issall shit, man," Gray slurred.
"See... they work their arse s'off, true. Twelve bucks anhour...
thasshit, man."
"Yeah, sh'shit."
"An' you come 'long... with TALENT, man an' makea million
bucks... an they fuckin' HATE it."
Jerry tried to roll another joint on an album sleeve, but he
couldn't co-ordinate his fingers anymore. After half an ounce
fluttered to the carpet, he gave up.
"Fuckit," Jerry spat, "I'm shit-faced."
"I coulda loved her...Y'know... I'm sucha silly cunt... " Gray
told his friend.
Jerry, however, had passed out.
Across town, Jess was equally drunk. Not wanting to be alone,
she'd gone back to her old flat, where she shared a couple of
bottles of wine with her friend, Chris.
"I jus' don't like beein' hated, y'know? Never could deal with
that," Jess told Chris.
"You're in th' cops, Jess. Get used to it."
"Y'know, Chris... I keep dreamin' about him, fuckin' Gray."
"I know," Chris replied, knowingly.
"Whyzzat... I don' even like him."
"Y'sure?"
Yes," Jess said, firmly, " he's a jerk."
"Ok... let's go clubbin' and grab a coupla guys," Chris
suggested.
"Nah, I might meet, HIM."
"Shit, Jess... itsa big town..."
"Think I'll go t'bed."
"Kay hon'... 'Night... hey, don' worry... men are not worth th'
trouble..."
Part 5 follows.
Katzmarek (Copyright)
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