by Angus McLean
‘Why, you looking to make an offer?’
Debs cocked her head and gave him disapproving. ‘Just tell me.’
‘Ace, he’s on our team.’ He studied her for a moment. ‘His girlfriend thinks it’s pretty cool too.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Debs took a slow drag and exhaled through her nose. ‘Message received.’ She gave the cocky smirk again and flicked her thin eyebrows at him. ‘Maybe I love it more.’
Joe gave a shrug and left them to their addiction. He made his way upstairs. He knew Deb’s past and he wanted no part of her present. He had just reached the top of the stairs when the door in front of him opened and Inspector Newlands appeared.
‘Ah, Joe,’ she smiled, ‘how’re you today?’
‘Fine thanks ma’am.’ Joe gave her a nod and stood aside for her to take the stairs.
She didn’t move, just let the door fall closed behind her. The stairwell was suddenly quiet and Joe became aware of his breathing.
‘So how’re things in the CIB office?’ Newlands asked, a false casualness in her voice.
‘Good thanks.’ He lifted the manila folder in his hand. ‘Just been getting a statement from a witness to a bashing.’
‘Excellent, good work.’ Newlands nodded enthusiastically. ‘So you’ll be locking the offender up shortly then?’
Joe gave a non-committal shrug. ‘Not just now, but soon. Got a couple more things to do yet.’
Newlands arched her eyebrows. ‘In the meantime, a victim waits for justice. Remember that, Joe. Every minute we waste is another minute of pain for your victim.’ She gave him serious now. Joe noticed he was getting a lot of pointed looks from women today. ‘And that’s on us, Joe. It’s on us.’
Joe nodded slowly, not quite sure how to respond. ‘Uh-huh,’ he said.
The silence hung heavy between them. Newlands held Joe’s gaze throughout. He felt himself squirming and wanted desperately to grab the door handle and bolt for freedom. Finally she gave a wan smile and reached out, touching his arm. Joe nearly jumped. Her hand felt cold on his skin.
‘You’re a good man, Joe,’ the inspector told him. ‘Take care out there, eh?’
Joe felt himself nodding, praying for her to let him go. ‘I will,’ he fumbled.
Newlands brushed past him as she took the first stair down. The touch of her arm on his skin was like a jolt of electricity. The scent of her perfume consumed him and he involuntarily stepped back, bumping into the wall and dropping his folder and notebook. She paused half way down the first flight and looked back at him, amused now.
‘Careful now,’ she said, ‘don’t have a workplace injury. I’ll have to call OSH.’
Boss joke. Joe scrabbled for his belongings and grabbed at the door with his free hand, kicking his notebook through the gap in his desperation to get out of there. He stumbled into the hallway and let the door go behind him.
He straightened up, his cheeks flushed and his breathing laboured. He glanced back through the window in the door and saw Inspector Newlands still on the stairs, staring back up at him. He hurriedly turned away and found Dan standing there, staring at him curiously.
‘Alright mate?’ Dan asked. ‘You look a bit flustered.’
Joe stooped to grab his notebook. ‘All good,’ he said, standing again and trying to catch his breath. ‘Just one of those days.’
He felt Dan’s eyes on him as he hurried down the hall, seeking the safety of the office.
Chapter Six
Renee de Wik was knocking fifty and carrying an extra ten kilos he couldn’t afford to carry.
His shirt might have been imported from England, as he liked to tell people, but it was struggling to contain the extra bulk. His hair was swept back and hung over his collar, and Molly could tell it was time for a touch up on the Grecian 2000. The inky black was losing the battle against the creeping grey.
He was in the office, perched on the edge of Ailsa’s desk when Molly came back in from lunch. The way he sat with one foot up on a spare chair and his knees open, barely inches from his employee, made Molly’s skin crawl.
They stopped their whispered conversation when Molly appeared, and both looked up. She gave a smile.
‘Afternoon Renee,’ Molly said, taking her seat again, ‘how’re you?’
‘I’m always great, Molly, you know that.’ He turned back to Ailsa, whispered something that made her smile, and stood. He crossed the floor to Molly’s desk against the other wall. Fortunately there was no perching or suggestive posing. Molly had enjoyed her salad wrap and didn’t want to throw it up over his pressed Italian trousers. ‘And how’re things with you? Busy, I hope?’ He gave her a wink and a chuckle. ‘Making me plenty of money?’
Molly smiled as sweetly as she could imagine. It felt like she was trying to force down medicine. ‘Doing what I can, Renee, one invoice at a time.’ She turned back to her computer and unlocked it.
Renee stayed in position, a sleazy smile still fixed on his face, staring at her. Molly opened up her emails, eyes front. He was unsure of how to proceed now, and the sleazy smile started to slip. Molly saw an email she needed to respond to. She hit Reply. Renee finally took a step back and turned side-on, so he could see both of them.
‘You two ladies keep up the good work, eh?’ He gave a double finger pistol, adding in a wink for Ailsa. Molly was still typing her email reply, but she looked up momentarily and gave a polite smile before going back to her work.
Renee swaggered out, hitching up his pants as he did so. Molly felt Ailsa’s eyes on her and maintained her focus. Avoidance was definitely the key.
***
The siren seemed deafeningly loud inside the Commodore, but it didn’t count for much with the motorists Buck was trying to get around. It seemed like everyone on the roads today was deaf, blind or just plain stupid.
He leaned on the horn again and Dan added to the symphony with a blast of the air horn, swaying from side to side as his partner threw the car around a van loaded down with kids and cut in again. They reached an intersection and Buck slowed rapidly, looking right.
‘Clear left,’ Dan called, and Buck gassed it, hanging a hard right.
The radio was up full blast and already an I-car had arrived at the robbery scene. Crime Squad were on the way and other units were racing into the area to lock it down with cordons. Despite the rapid response, Dan knew the bad guys would be long gone.
He flicked the siren off as Buck pulled into the parking area outside a small block of shops. It was in Otara, neighbouring Otahuhu. The security van was parked near the lone ATM, a patrol car beside it, two uniformed guards talking to two uniformed cops.
Dan grabbed the radio mic and keyed it. ‘Comms, oh-aitch-jay-one-one. Ten-seven.’ Letting the dispatcher know that an Otahuhu CIB unit had arrived at the scene.
‘Copy, OHJ.’
As he was getting out, another unit called him over the air. ‘OHJ, ASC.’
He grabbed the mic again, watching Buck approach the cops. A few shopkeepers and bystanders were also gathered around the scene. ‘Go ahead, Charlie.’ Crime Squad were usually just referred to as Charlie; like the dog units-Delta-everybody knew who they were. They were a CIB unit tasked primarily with initial action at serious crime scenes. Robberies were their bread and butter.
‘We’re still probably five away, if you can lock it down and hold it for us that’d be great.’
‘Roger.’
He clipped the mic back on the dash and got out, notebook in one hand. Neither he nor Buck had their stab vests on, and the light wind caught his tie and flicked it over his shoulder. He joined the huddle by the security van. Comms had already broadcast the description of the getaway vehicle and the offenders. Two guys with guns and balaclavas, another one driving.
He quickly scanned the shops for any external CCTV cameras-nothing. Some of them would probably have internal cameras; with any luck one of them would have something they could use. It was your average suburban block of shops-a laundromat, fish and chip
ship, dairy, pizza joint, fruit and veggie shop.
One of the security guards had his arms folded across his stomach and looked uncomfortable. He was a slim Indian guy in his twenties. The other looked ashen and had a sheen of sweat on his face. He was a large Indian, maybe forty, with powerful arms.
Buck was getting a briefing from the two uniformed cops. One was a wide-shouldered female with a serious expression, the other a younger guy with heavily gelled hair and fashion-victim tats. Buck looked questioningly at Dan, who gestured for him to continue and turned his attention to the two guards instead.
‘Hey fellas,’ he said easily, ‘I’m Dan from Otahu CIB. Been a pretty shitty day so far, eh?’
They both nodded quietly.
‘Firstly, are either of you hurt?’ They both shook their heads. ‘Good. What’s going to happen now is we’re going to get someone from your company to come down and probably take the van. We’ll look after you guys and get you sorted out, okay?’ He looked from one to the other, ensuring they had both heard him. They probably weren’t really listening right now, but that was okay.
Buck had finished with the uniformed cops and they were all standing, waiting for Dan. He turned to Buck. ‘Are you up to speed?’
‘Yep, so what happened...’
‘Hang on.’ Dan cut him off, and addressed the I-car crew. ‘Guys, I want you to round up the onlookers and get details off all of them. If they saw anything, we need them to wait here for now. If they didn’t then they can go once you’ve confirmed their IDs.’
They both nodded, but he could tell the guy wasn’t really listening. He had his phone in his hand and it bleeped with an incoming text.
‘Hey, mate.’ Dan waited until the guy looked up. ‘How about you put that away and text your missus later, eh? I need you to sort out these witnesses.’
The guy’s cheeks flushed and he put the phone away.
‘Before you do that, I’ll get one of you to chuck some cordon tape up around the van, nice and wide okay?’
The woman nodded and passed the car keys to her partner, who was obviously the junior boy. She went and started corralling the witnesses.
Dan turned to Buck and asked for a rundown. They were still going when the Crime Squad wagon arrived, red and blues flashing in the front windscreen and behind the grill. The two investigators who alighted were guys Dan didn’t know. They were fully geared up in their vests, sunnies on and Glocks on their hips. They approached and the lead guy gave Dan and Buck a toss of the chin.
‘Sit-rep?’ he said, taking out his notebook. He planted his feet wide and waited, pen poised.
Dan glanced at Buck. ‘Is it just me?’
Buck’s limp moustache wiggled.
Dan looked back at the other cop, who was waiting expectantly. ‘Who are you?’ he said.
The other guy glanced at his partner with a smirk, as if to say Really? You don’t know who I am?
‘I’m Dale Turner,’ he said, more than a hint mockingly, his eyes hidden behind his shades. ‘And who might you be?’
‘Well, Dale, my name’s Dan Crowley and I’m a Detective.’ He paused, eyeballing the younger guy. He saw Dale’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he realised his mistake. ‘I know we haven’t met before, but don’t rock up here like you own the joint and know everything. Understand?’
Dale gave a short nod and licked his lips. Dan glanced at his partner, who was shorter and even younger. Despite his youthfulness he was pudgy and his shirt was hanging out at the front.
‘Tuck your shirt in mate, you look like you just woke up.’ The kid quickly did so, avoiding Dan’s gaze. ‘Right, let’s start again. Buck will brief you on the victim’s versions of events as we know them so far. You two are going to deal with the two victims and get them interviewed and squared away. We’ll do the scene and witnesses.’ He noticed Dale noting that down. At least he knew how to do that. ‘Uniforms are identifying the witnesses for us, and we’ll canvas the shops for CCTV. Once we’ve got all that sorted we’ll flick it all to you guys for your file.’
Dale nodded and continued writing in his notebook. He looked up. ‘So we’re taking the file?’
It was always a point of discussion. Everyone was busy and everyone wanted someone else to take the file.
‘Yep,’ Dan confirmed. ‘Once the initial action’s done today it can go straight to Major Crime.’
‘Without wanting to be rude,’ Dale said, ‘Crime Squad are here to complete the initial action and run jobs like these...’
Dan felt the urge to sigh compete against the urge to punch Dale in the face. ‘Come here,’ he said, stepping off to the side and gesturing for Dale to come with him.
Dale obviously knew what was coming, and he snapped his notebook closed before tucking it away in his vest. Dan faced him, keeping his expression calm.
‘Mate, I know you’re in the CIB now and you obviously think you’re all that, but pull your head in. From the look of your collar number you’ve been in the job, what, two or three years?’
‘Two and a half.’ Dale’s tone was curt.
‘Know your place and show some respect for those who’ve been around a while. I don’t expect to have to spoon feed you and deal with your ego. Wearing a collar and tie doesn’t make you a detective.’ He paused, eyeballing the younger man again. ‘And take your damn sunnies off when you’re talking to me.’
Dale reluctantly removed them. His expression was sulky.
‘If a Detective tells you to do something, just do it. I know very well what Crime Squad is here for-I’ve done my time there, not so long ago. And if you ever,’ his tone took on a hard edge now and he locked eyes with Dale, ‘ever speak to me like that again, we will have a major problem. Understand?’
Dale hesitated, as if tossing up whether to argue the point. Dan saw it in his face when he backed off.
‘Right, now go and deal with the victims please.’
Dale turned on his heel and stalked off to his mate, who was standing with Buck, watching the interaction. Buck ignored him and came over to Dan, who was taking deep breaths to calm himself down.
‘Wow,’ Buck said, ‘that was unnecessary.’
Dan shot him a look.
‘On his part, I mean,’ Buck quickly said, ‘what a knob. He only joined the CIB two months ago.’
‘Good Lord,’ Dan griped. ‘Where have all the good trainees gone, Buck?’
‘Well...’ Buck indicated himself. ‘You know...’
Dan looked at him blankly. ‘Like I said...’ Seeing Buck’s face fall, he grinned. ‘Come on, let’s crack on. Show these turkeys what real detectives are all about.’
***
Ailsa’s blue Sentra left the car park and turned right. Within ten seconds Molly had the alarm company on the line. She had hoped to get Brent the technician, but instead got a bored sounding receptionist.
‘He’s out on a job,’ she droned down the line, ‘won’t be back till knock-off probably.’
‘Are you able to put me through to his mobile then?’ Molly asked, knowing it would just be too hard to explain to this girl.
‘Not really, I’m not really supposed to...it’s too distracting for them when they get calls and they’re out on a job. You know, the technicians.’
Molly did know. She bit her tongue. ‘Is there anybody else there that would be able to get into our access control records?’ Molly asked. ‘I just need the last month or so.’
‘Hmmm...let me see...’ The line went silent, and Molly presumed the receptionist was checking who was at their desk. ‘Well, see, Pete could, but Pete’s out. Ummm...Kylie’s out...ummm...oh, Ryan can. Yeah, Ryan can.’
Things were looking up. Good old Ryan.
‘Could you put me through to him then, please?’ Molly asked hopefully.
‘Oh, no, my bad. Ryan’s out too.’
Molly’s heart sank. At this rate Ailsa would be back before she’d even found someone to talk to.
‘Look, maybe I should just ring back t
omorrow,’ she said resignedly. ‘Are you sure there’s nobody else there that can help me?’
‘Oh.’ The receptionist seemed to perk up a bit. ‘Was it just your access control records that you want?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Oh. I can do that.’
Molly rolled her eyes silently. ‘Oh good,’ she said with forced happiness.
‘You should’ve said...’
It took Molly thirty seconds to give the receptionist the details she needed, and less than a minute for the records to be accessed and emailed to her.
Ailsa’s blue Sentra was pulling back into the car park when Molly crossed the floor to the printer. The red light was flashing and the message on the screen told her the paper needed refilling. She grabbed a ream of paper from the cabinet beneath the printer, ripped it open and rammed half of it into the tray.
She heard the back door opening as she shoved the drawer closed again and the printer began to whir. She heard voices in the corridor, Ailsa and someone-probably Renee de Twit.
The first page slid out, the printer continued to hum, and Molly could feel her heart in her mouth. Page two emerged. She felt like a naughty schoolgirl stealing her mother’s cigarettes. The voices got closer. She couldn’t resist a quick peek while she waited, and it was just as she had suspected. Somebody was regularly coming and going at odd hours, either before or after the normal office hours, and deactivating the alarm to the front office each time.
Page three popped out. Job complete. She snatched it off the machine, folded the three pages together and bounded back to her desk. She shoved the folded papers into her bag and sat down again just as Ailsa entered the office, a coffee in her hand and a smile on her face. Renee was just behind her.
Molly gave them a quick smile and turned back to her computer. While they hovered around Ailsa’s desk, she quickly forwarded the email to her personal account, then deleted it from both the inbox and sent box. She was about to continue with her work when she remembered one last thing.
She opened up the Trash box in her email system, and hit Empty Trash. The box cleared itself and she minimised the screen. She didn’t know why, but her instincts told her to keep this little inquiry under wraps for now.