Dragonflies The Duncan Peters Files

by Fontien, Samantha

  Both Duncan and Rubin were amused at the youngster’s resourcefulness and storytelling capabilities. She had been very imaginative indeed; she had showed inventiveness beyond her years. Duncan wasn’t normally impressed with the ‘kids of today’, but he had to take his hat off to her for her torment of her father who had walked out on Karen and her mother ten years ago, leaving her and her mam, according to Karen, pretty much destitute and very much on the streets. It was a sorry tale, as Rizzo, as she insisted on being called wanted no connection to Lamb in any shape or fashion, went on, to tell them everything.

  Duncan pulled out the other chair and moved Rizzo’s laptop facing him, as she shouted an “Oi,” in protest, as he did and started to tap at the keyboard. He flicked through various screens, before his fingers stopped tapping. He smiled to himself, at what he saw. Rizzo was indeed very talented.

  “So if you’ve already left the schooling system, how on earth have you acquired the skills you have on this baby. I like this programme, very impressive indeed,” and he nodded to the screen.

  Rizzo moved up from her chair and leaned in to see what Duncan was talking about.

  “Yeah, that’s sweet innit,” she beamed holding her fingers to her mouth somewhat shyly proud, hiding the glee on her face.

  “You mean ‘isn’t it,” he sighed. “Seriously young lady, your grasp of the English language leaves a lot to be desired.” He shook his head, disappointed.

  Rubin leaned against the wall, still shocked that the little girl he knew was now, this young woman, who looked very urban. She looked like one of those American skater dudes in appearance. She dressed very unfeminine for a pretty, nineteen year old with a bright funky red bolt of colour in the form of one solitary streak in her short, black edgy cut hair. Her ears were full of earrings, and she had one in her eyebrow. He would never have guessed she was that sweet little girl they had met years ago, when she was still in pigtails and a pretty red gingham dress. A far cry from the young woman that stood yakking computer talk with Duncan, as she leaned in to the screen, over the table, clicking various windows. Rubin sighed to himself; he bet she had a horde of tattoos and piercing in other places too. He shook his head at the transformation. Lamb was a fuck head, Theresa his ex, was a lovely woman, Lamb had definitely batted well and truly above his league when he scored with her.

  She was a fabulous looking woman, with the most amazing copper red hair, and a figure to die for. He hadn’t gone there, and that was only because, you just didn’t do that with a mates Mrs. Meeting a woman one night with your mates , and she is up for some fun and games, was a completely different thing altogether.

  “So Karen,” she shot him a nasty look, he laughed to himself. “Sorry Rizzo, your mother, Theresa, how is she?” he raised an eyebrow, “she still living in Ladbroke Grove?”

  “Yeah,” she answered not really engaged, as she was concentrating on the windows that Duncan had just brought up on the screen.

  It must have been fifteen minutes later when Duncan looked around still deep in conversation with Rizzo about her computer skills. When he noticed Rubin had left. He thought momentarily before a familiar head shake came from Duncan, as he laughed to himself, thinking back to the last conversation involving Rubin. And if he remembered correctly, the last thing he asked was if her mother still lived in the same place. He knew there was no way Rubes would have gone there before. It was a code of honour, something like that you just simply didn’t do it. But now, now the gloves were off, and it was open season. Oh dear he thought. He focused his attention back to Rizzo, who was showing him something else she had conjured up. He could only hope and pray that Rubin wouldn’t be gone too long. He didn’t fancy the idea of having to get a taxi home, not very covert travelling in a taxi in black fatigues. ‘Yep nice one Rubes, thinking with the wrong head again’. And he refocused his attention to Rizzo’s laptop that was in full swing now.

  *****

  Two hours later, thankfully Rubin walked through the door, a big smile on his face. Duncan stood up. Rubin walked towards him, his palming motioning downwards.

  “Calm down,” Rubin shot him a look and Duncan backed off as Rubin walked to Rizzo, pushing her up against the wall by her shoulders. “So, Larry left you destitute did he?” He released her shoulders and walked away from her towards Duncan. “I think she thinks destitute means not going to private school anymore. It really must have been a hardship, to go to the likes of the Manning, especially with the terrible computer studies program they had there, which you aced with honours, by all accounts, well that’s what your lovely mother has told me.” He dripped with sarcasm as he folded his arms with annoyance.

  Rubin looked at her sternly, he had to give it to her, she was a brazen little mare lying to them like that. Rubin looked at Duncan, giving him, I’m an unimpressed look. Duncan looked at Rizzo, as sternly as Rubin. He grabbed her laptop, pulling out the wires, and unplugged her impressive self-built bank of hard drives. To her protests and pleas of “what the hell was he doing?”

  “Right young lady, I’m commandeering these,” and he stuffed the hardware into the rucksack, that had been packed earlier, making way, for all her equipment on the table, whilst Rubin had been out. “And don’t think this is over young lady.”

  “But, but,” she protested.

  “Butts are on your ARSE or on the end of my gun,” Rubin smirked as he followed Duncan out the door, leaving Rizzo standing there in utter shock, at the apparent mugging of her equipment.

  Once in the white van, Rubin turned to Duncan.

  “Sorry for leaving you there, but I knew you had the bases covered with her. I just somehow didn’t see Theresa being destitute, no matter the situation. That woman had a good head on her shoulders,” he started the van, and pulled off into the London traffic. “I remembered where they lived.”

  “I bet you did,” laughed Duncan, remembering how Rubin used to look at Lambs Mrs. Rubin shot him a look. “So I take it you spoke, for a whole hour and fifty minutes?” Duncan joked questionably, obviously teasing Rubin. “And baring in mind I have allowed ten minutes journey time, five minutes there and five minutes back, See I am fair,” he smugly smirked.

  “Anyway, seems Rizzo has quite an imagination, about how ‘hard life’ was for them.” He squished his fingers like speech marks. “Things were a bit tight for a few weeks due to the adjustments of the split. I knew she would have been far too resourceful to have not done something about it. She works in advertising; in fact she is head of a department for a very well-known advertising company. She sent Karen to the local school, which also turns out to be the very same one she went to as she couldn’t manage the school fees. Karen it seems is an incredibly intelligent girl. In fact, she had quite a few offers from some high profile Universities, which the young Rizzo turned down much to her mother’s disappointment. It seems she has a problem with authority,” Duncan smiled, not looking at Rubin, who was still, weaving through traffic. “Anyway, her dad is unfortunately a right knob head, as she said. He never paid any child support what so ever and money was tight,” Duncan raised his eyebrow, hearing this, as Rubin continued. “Theresa had to work, which meant the gifted Rizzo had time on her hands, and is indeed a bit of a whizz on the old computer.”

  “Yes I saw, but I have to say Rubes,” he brought his hand up to his mouth. “She really does have some fine skills. She has written some ingenious programmes, and I mean some seriously nice programmes, Hmmmm,” his chin dimpled as he clenched his lips together.

  “What are you thinking old boy?” Rubin asked, no sooner had he said it, the penny dropped for him. “Ohh no, I know that face, you’re not seriously thinking what I think your thinking are you?”

  Duncan sat there, deep in contemplation; Rubin was trying to concentrate on going down the swirling ramps that led down to the underground car park they stored their vehicles in their buildings basement.

  “So,” Rubin turned to Duncan. “What are we going to do about Lamb?”


  “Let me handle him,” replied Duncan through a yawn. “We have the companies money returned, which is the main thing. If that money had been irretrievable, then we would have been singing a different tune. However, the money has been returned. No one is any the wiser, which is good for Lamb and his daughter it means no police involvement.”

  “And what about this,” and Rubin lifted up the rucksack in his hand.

  “Hmmm, let me sleep on that. Arrange with Lamb for us to go to his office at eleven am sharp. He can at least rest, knowing his job is safe, and the company money is safe. We can also tell him he can change his password etc,” he yawned again. “God, I’m too tired to even think about that twat now. Come on lets go home.” And the two men got into Rubin’s car.

  The next morning, after pretty much spending most of the night going through Rizzo’s hardware, Duncan had made a few decisions. Not being a man to procrastinate, he arose early, showering and dressing, then making his way to his TVR Cerbera parked outside his new house, across the road from Rubin’s, in one of the huge town houses, only a few doors down from their kinkster friends funny enough. He sat in the ‘Polar Silver’ vehicle and turned on the engine. She immediately started to roar like a lion, as he revved the engine. He smiled to himself, this car just made him warm inside. She wasn’t only a spectacular sexy vehicle to look at, but she purred and voomed in all the right places. She was one of the most powerful road going vehicles TVR had produced with the V8 engine. She had a breath-taking sound, as she pulled up to traffic lights or to stops. She turned many heads, car enthusiast or not with her gorgeous looks and super car performance, she was smexy as far as cars went, it was a sheer orgasmic pleasure to drive.

  He pulled up outside Rizzo’s. Once out of the vehicle he buzzed her intercom. A sleepy voice answered,

  “I have a parcel for number three,” he said in a cockney accent, he heard the lock release.

  He pushed the door open and walked up to the first floor of the three story building. He noticed the wood around the frame of the door was still damaged from last night’s performance of Rubin’s kick in, with sheer brute force. He knocked on the door before he pushed it open. He had to push hard; Rizzo had placed her bike up against the door. She seemed to be very inventive indeed. He pushed his shoulder into it, causing the bike to crash noisily onto the floor. He walked into the apartment pushing the door as the bike slid across the floor, looking side to side as he went. Next thing he saw was Rizzo dressed in a t-shirt and boxer shorts jump out in a surprise attack from behind a door shouting ‘Arhhhh’ whilst welding a baseball bat in her hands. He turned to face her, trying to stop himself laughing as he spoke, while grabbing the bat out of her hands in one quick ninja like move, leaving her still gawking in amazement at Duncan’s agility and speed as she stared into her empty hands.

  “So I have a proposition for you,” she followed him as he walked into her living room slapping the bat into his open palm, and then into the kitchen where he sat on one of the two plain chairs placing the bat against the wall beside him. She duly followed him like a puppy, and sat in the chair opposite him. He threw down a white envelope onto the table.

  “What’s that, and when are you giving me back my stuff?” she huffed trying to sound uninterested as she poked and peaked into the white envelope.

  Duncan watched her, before answering.

  “That my dear is twenty-five thousand pounds, which as you know, was your father’s money.” She went to grab the envelope, he seized her wrist. “Now, I will let you keep this on one condition,” he released her. “I want you to clean up your act. I want you to move closer to the city, you need to be closer to work,” she looked at him, her eyes widening.

  “Work!” She scoffed, “Uhgg,” she sighed out again like a stroppy teenager. “I ain’t got no job innit.”

  “I haven’t got a job,” he sighed, correcting her. “Ohh I don’t know,” he said shaking his head again, before changing his tone, to that of a more authoritative one. “You will be working for Rubin and I, doing special projects and anything else that I assign to you. I want you in the office tomorrow morning, nine a.m. sharp.” He got up to leave. “Oh and if you want your hardware back, may I suggest that you be there on time, or, young lady, I will find myself, and your hardware, on the roof of our office block at exactly ten past nine, which can I just point out, is thirty levels above ground. Now, I think you know I’m not a man who makes idol threats, so, if you’re not there, your hardware is going to go, let me put it in a language that you understand. ‘Computer will go bye, bye’. Oh and believe me, when I tell you this. If you run...” He bent down at her eye level staring her down. “I will find you, ohh, and, I will get that money back from you as well, and believe me girl, I have a very big reach. There is nowhere you can hide, well you can if you stay off the grid, but I know for someone like you that would be like cutting off your air supply.” He stood back up “Oh and let me tell you, that can also be arranged. Do you understand me?” She nodded her head ‘yes.’ “And before I forget,” he turned as he had started walking towards her front door. “Come dressed officey.”

  And with that he was gone, stepping over her bike and into the hallway, leaving Rizzo now on her feet shouting after him.

  “What’s officey?” as she screwed up her face in bewilderment.

  *****

  Later that morning, at eleven o’clock to be more precise, Duncan and Rubin were sitting at Lamb’s desk. Duncan was sitting in Lamb’s chair. His hands had swept across the keyboard a few times, before one went under the desk retrieving Rizzo’s tracking unit. He slid it into his inside suit pocket without Rubin having noticed. It was done with such swiftness as he still typed with the other hand, as Rubin, nicely distracted Lamb with a conversation about them managing to retrieve the company account money. Duncan watched Rubin work Lamb, like putty in his hand. His hand placed on the Lamb’s shoulder blade. The nearest thing you could get which would pass for some form of affection. He was truly gifted with people as he played Lamb like a fiddle.

  *****

  “Old man, we’re sorry, we chased them to Heathrow airport, to watch them go through customs.” Rubin shook his head as if repentant, he sighed hard before he spoke again looking back to see Duncan slightly nod at him. “They got away with all your personal money I’m afraid, but at least we have the company money back which is the main thing. It was actually back in the account before we even arrived here at your office today,” he smiled at Lamb who was nodding his head like the fool he was. “No police involvement Lamb, that’s a good thing. I know it must be a huge relief for you mate, knowing work will never know you fucked up big time. I mean having your personal account plundered is one thing, that’s your money, their money, well, that they would really care about. Shit like that is very damaging for the career old boy if you know what I mean,” and he dragged his finger across his neck slowly. “Kiss of death for the old career, so Duncan is setting you up with new passwords,” and he placed his arm around Lambs neck like a headlock kind of move. It wasn’t hard, it was just a buddy type thing, and he released him quick enough for there to be nothing made of it even if he did think he was a twat. “Now don’t be a plank and write the damn things on a fucking sticky label again for all to see. Oh and this also means the wee prezzies you were getting have stopped. Well knowing you as we do, they may not be from them if you know what I mean,” he laughed. “Seriously though Lamb, if it starts again, let us know. Who knows, I may already know the bunny boiler,” he nudged into Lambs side with his elbow laughing, causing Lamb to erupt into laughter himself. Lamb loved anything that had to do with sex, the more perverse the better. “Anyway old boy, it looks like our work is done here. So catch you on the fly,” and he slapped Lamb a few times on the shoulder, as he turned to meet Duncan who had finished at Lamb’s desk and was now waiting by the door ready to leave.

  18.

  Back Door Man..

  Rizzo had turned up at the offices at nine am. Duncan k
new she would, he had slipped the company card into the envelope, and she was resourceful enough to have found them. He had something she wanted, and that was her hardware. Plus, he knew the potential that lay within her. If he could tap into that, and divert her skills, or rather utilize them, she could do wonders, especially under his guidance. From the first day she had impressed him, and continued to do so.

  The year 2000 came and went with the problem of the Millennium bug, the Y2K bug, or simply Y2K. It was a problem for both digital or computer-related and non-digital documentation and data storage situations which resulted from the practice of abbreviating a four-digit year to two digits. Duncan and Rizzo laughed at Rubin when he first mentioned the Y2K problem, they of course, had not been worried in the slightest. During 2000, Rubin also had a few clandestine encounters it seems. That year, he had attended at least one party a month. He had a list of ladies it seemed; he was still seeing Laura Blackwall. He saw her at least once a month; he made no secret of him seeing other women. She seemed fine with their arrangement; she herself had no time for romance. She was a high flyer in the world of freight, and spent most of her time, either overseas dealing with contracts or practically living in her office.