Simone Kirsch 01 - Peepshow

by Leigh Redhead

  My face flushed red and Farquhar let me off his lap. The synthetic material of his pants had made the backs of my legs sweat. Disgusting. He took a folded photograph out of his pocket.

  ‘This is Bob Lange. Take a good look.’

  I held the photo up to the light and studied it. The man was middle aged, balding, average weight. Farquhar took the photo back and I got dressed. The tape stopped with a clunk.

  ‘Get changed into your civvies and meet me out in the bar. You’ve got two minutes.’

  ‘I’m in the middle of my shift,’ I protested.

  ‘Me and Jim go way back, he won’t mind.’

  I raced to the dressing room in a panic. I had no way of knowing if Alex and his crew had picked everything up from my Maxwell Smart earrings. What if the music had been too loud? I quickly changed into my black skirt and top. Aurora walked in.

  ‘What’s going on? That was Dick Farquhar.’

  ‘I’ll tell you later.’ My hands shook as I stuffed everything into my bag. I picked up my mobile. Should I try to call Alex? Make sure he knew what was going on?

  The girls’ room door swung in hard and hit the wall with a bang. Farquhar strode over and knocked the mobile out of my hand so it clattered to the floor.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Aurora said to him.

  ‘Keep your tits on.’ Farquhar winked at her. ‘No need to get jealous.’

  Jealous? ‘It’s OK,’ I told her, ‘I’m fine.’

  Farquhar followed me out of the club and down the stairs. No one tried to stop us. He hailed a cab and directed it to Queens Road where we pulled up in front of a four star hotel. He handed me a key and a bag of coke.

  ‘Go to room twenty-seven, and wait for me to contact you.’

  I walked into the lobby and took the elevator to the second floor. I was alone in there and I talked softly to myself.

  ‘Room twenty-seven, Uptown Hotel.’ I hoped someone could hear.

  My room was typical mid-range hotel. Bed, television, desk, minibar and everything decorated in beige.

  A framed pastel print of a sailing boat hung on the wall.

  I opened the minibar and skolled a tiny bottle of vodka.

  The phone rang. ‘Don’t get too pissed,’ Farquhar said, ‘you don’t want to fuck this up.’

  I whirled around looking for the hidden camera and Dick laughed. ‘Now go down to the bar next to the lobby. Lange and his mates’ll be there soon. And remember, you’re being watched.’

  The bar was decorated in a Hawaiian theme, fake palms, thatched ceiling and cane furniture. I ordered champagne off a skinny guy with a plastic lei encircling his neck and looked around. An old couple drank pina coladas by the piano player. A thirty-something man sat by himself drinking beer. I lit a cigarette from a pack I’d bought on the way to the Red. It seemed like a good time to officially start up again.

  Elevators opened across the lobby and a group of men and one woman piled out, laughing and talking, wearing cheap suits and reeking of cop. Show time.

  They commandeered three tables near the front window, pushed them together, and a couple came up to order drinks. A young one with blond hair and full, pouty lips checked me out in the mirror behind the bar. He shook a cigarette out of a pack of Dunhills and turned to me.

  ‘Excuse me, do you have a light?’

  ‘Sure.’ I flicked my pink Bic.

  ‘Thanks.’ He drew back deeply, loosened his tie and blew the smoke out with a sigh. ‘I’m glad that’s over.’

  ‘What’s over?’

  ‘Conference. Sitting on your arse all day listening to people drone on.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘You’ve been conferencing too?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘I’m over from Adelaide, sales rep with Lilywhite Disposables. You know, foam cups, takeaway containers, plastic forks, paper napkins . . .’

  ‘Great,’ he said smoothly. ‘Hey, we all use those things.’

  ‘Oh yeah, it’s a multimillion-dollar industry. What about you, what line of work are you in?’

  ‘Law enforcement, actually.’

  ‘Oh my god,’ I said. ‘That must be sooo exciting.’

  ‘Not when you’re sitting around all day. Listen, you want to come and have a drink with us?’ He nodded to his colleagues who were looking over, nudging each other.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I was just about to go up to my room and get an early night. I fly out tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Come on, just one drink. I won’t bite. Unless you want me to. Ha ha.’

  ‘Well, maybe just one. I’m Simone.’

  ‘Simone. That’s French, isn’t it? Jason.’ We shook hands and he ordered me another champagne, scotch for himself, and escorted me to the tables.

  ‘Everybody,’ he announced, ‘this is Simone. She’s from Adelaide, been doing the conference thing too.’

  ‘Are you all police officers?’ I asked.

  A man who looked exactly like the photo said, ‘Yeah, but it’s not as exciting as young Jason makes out.’ He extended a hand across the table and I shook it. ‘Bob,’

  he said.

  ‘He’s my boss,’ Jason explained.

  ‘What line of work you in?’ Bob asked.

  I told them and everybody’s eyes glazed over.

  ‘And what about you guys?’ I asked. ‘What sort of cops are you? Homicide? Vice?’

  ‘We work for the Ethical Standards department,’ said Bob. ‘We keep the bastards honest.’

  Holy shit. Farquhar was trying to set up Ethical Standards. Was he insane?

  A few of the cops were talking about going out but no one could decide on where to go. The casino? St Kilda? They kept drinking and it was doubtful they’d get it together to go anywhere.

  Jason went to buy more drinks and I moved into his seat, right next to Bob Lange.

  I flirted like I never had before, asking him about work, star sign, laughing at his jokes and playing with my hair. It was Olympic level stuff, Chloe would have been proud.

  Bob was getting into it, boasting about cases he’d worked in major crimes a few years before. He wore a wedding ring but never mentioned a wife or kids. Jason could hardly get a word in and started sulking. The group became drunk and loud, got the piano player to do requests and sang along to ‘Piano Man’ and ‘American Pie’. Bob bought me champagnes and I drank half and poured the rest into a fake palm.

  At quarter to eleven the barman called last drinks.

  Most had peeled off to go to bed but a couple of diehards headed off to Crown Casino. Bob, Jason and me were left. I’d made sure my leg was touching Bob’s under the table and he had actually said: ‘You have beautiful eyes. Have you ever done any modelling?’

  The bar closed.

  ‘Let’s go out,’ Jason whined.

  ‘I don’t think I’m up for a big one,’ I said. ‘Why don’t we go to my room and get stuck into the minibar? Company’s paying.’

  Jason brightened up, and I saw him and Bob exchange a meaningful look.

  I let us into the room and poured them both a scotch and ice. Jason found some music on the clock radio beside the bed and I popped a half bottle of champagne and opened a packet of salted peanuts. I was starving.

  Bob sat on the desk chair and leaned back, loosening his tie. Jason was on the double bed. He said: ‘I have to tell you, Simone. Bob and I, we come as a team.’

  He looked at Bob and they both grinned. ‘Remember Brisbane?’

  ‘How could I forget?’ said Bob. ‘Now that was teamwork.’

  ‘What happened in Brisbane?’ I perched on the edge of the desk and looked from one to the other.

  Bob clasped his hands behind his head.

  ‘Let’s just say we had a wonderful time with a delightful young lady fascinated by law enforcement.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Have you ever been with two guys at once?’ asked Jason.

  ‘Nooo . . .’ I said in a tone that suggested I�
��d thought about it.

  ‘It’s really good.’ Jason bounced lightly on the mattress and nodded his head like a dashboard dog. ‘The girl gets all the attention.’

  I tilted my head to the side. ‘So do you two, like, get it on as well?’

  ‘No!’ said Jason.

  ‘God no,’ said Bob.

  ‘Christ.’

  They coughed. Nervous laughter.

  ‘You don’t think two guys and one girl is a bit, well, homoerotic?’ I asked. ‘I mean, it could be said that the guys just need the girl there to make it acceptable for them to be naked and sexual together.’

  ‘No . . . no nothing like that,’ said Jason.

  ‘Why don’t you find out for yourself?’ Bob patted his lap and I sat on it thinking, come on Alex, got enough evidence yet?

  Bob nuzzled his face in my hair. ‘God you smell good.’

  ‘So you promise I’ll have a good time?’

  ‘I can guarantee it.’ Jason sprang off the bed and kneeled down in front of me. He rubbed his palms up and down my thighs and nipped at the fabric of my skirt with his teeth. He looked up at me and said, soulful y, ‘I know how to make you feel like a woman.’

  ‘Whoa, boy.’ I pushed his head away from my crotch.

  ‘I just have to go to the bathroom. When I come back I want you to be all ready for me, OK?’

  Christ, this cheesy dialogue was coming a little too easy. Had I been watching too much porn? I locked the bathroom door behind me and leaned against it.

  I’d always wondered about being with two guys at once but I refused to be the meat in a ‘Have you done any modelling/I want to make you feel like a woman’ sandwich. Where the hell was the cavalry? I’d done my bit.

  I heard shoes drop to the floor and Bob and Jason laughing and talking. I had a pee and washed my hands thoroughly and slowly, brushed my hair, powdered my nose and put on more lipstick. Damn you, Alex.

  Jason knocked on the door and sang out, ‘Simo-one, we’re ready and waiting.’ Fuck. I unlocked it, took a deep breath and walked back into the hotel room.

  Bob and Jason sat on the bed, waiting expectantly.

  Jason was completely starkers but Bob had left his socks on. Nice. Their suits had hidden a multitude of sins. Jason was too skinny, with chicken legs, and Bob had a layer of waxy fat all over his body, dark wiry hair standing out in sharp relief. Sometimes a naked male can be quite beautiful. This was not one of those times.

  Both had erections and Jason’s moved around as if it was waving to me.

  Bob patted the bedspread. ‘Have a seat, beautiful.’

  I smiled. ‘I’ll just get another drink.’ I took a small screw-top bottle of chardonnay from the minibar and slammed down half, thinking, I can’t believe my life has come to this. I sat reluctantly between them, drinking straight from the bottle.

  ‘So,’ I said.

  ‘Relax.’ Bob took the bottle out of my hand and set it on the nightstand. He kissed up my arm, Gomez Addams style. Jason licked my neck and ran his hand up my thigh. My skin crawled, I was about to scream, I couldn’t take another second.

  Bang! A huge crash, wood splintering.

  We looked at the door but it was intact, the sound coming from the room next door. A muffled announcement: ‘Police!’ And then a gunshot.

  Jason and Bob looked at each other, dicks going limp, and I leapt up and raced for the door. I slipped through the entrance to the room next door and saw Farquhar face down on the floor with his wrists handcuffed behind him. Alex had his knee in Farquhar’s back, reading him his rights, and four other plainclothes cops with IDs strung on their necks stood around him, guns drawn. Another handgun, a big one, lay on the bed.

  A laptop computer and a video monitor were set up on the desk. I could see Bob and Jason scrabbling around for their clothes. A female cop with a blond ponytail saw me, reholstered her gun and started to push me out of the room.

  ‘I’m going to have to ask you to come with me, ma’am,’ she said.

  Farquhar twisted around in his restraints, enraged.

  ‘You fucking dog, Christakos,’ he said. ‘You filthy maggot. You’re fucked.’

  Alex hauled him to his feet and Farquhar saw me.

  ‘And you, you whore,’ he bellowed.

  ‘That’s enough.’ Alex and another cop pushed him out of the room and towards the elevators.

  When Farquhar was hustled past I said, ‘Fucking amateur.’

  Alex smiled at me.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  I’d handed in the earrings and was giving a statement to the female cop, Detective McCullers, when Alex knocked on the interview room door.

  ‘Can I borrow her a sec?’

  ‘Sure,’ she smiled at him. He took me into the corridor and closed the interview room door.

  ‘Farquhar locked up?’ I asked.

  ‘Signed, sealed, delivered, baby.’ Alex’s eyes were shining. He was pumped up like he’d just been to an Anthony Robbins seminar. Busts must do that to a fellow.

  ‘We’re about to search his house and a self-storage facility he had in a false name. I wanted to thank you before I left. You did good tonight, got a real flair for the undercover stuff.’

  ‘What about my autopsy report?’

  ‘Haven’t had time.’ He held out his hands. ‘Might be able to get it by the debriefing tomorrow.’

  ‘What debriefing?’

  ‘Didn’t anyone tell you? Be here at seven pm.’

  ‘It’s really important I get the report, Alex.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ He bent and kissed me on the cheek. A warm, tingling sensation. Not the white lightning of Mick but, hey, not bad.

  ‘See you tomorrow,’ he said.

  When I finished my statement I called Aurora’s mobile from a phone booth in the lobby. She answered on the first ring.

  ‘Simone, thank god, I was so worried. What happened with Dick Farquhar? Where are you?’

  I told her about the sting, and how Farquhar was safely locked away.

  ‘I’m at Betty’s,’ she said. ‘Please come over. Mick’s here. Don’t be mad but he told me everything. About your arrest, about that prick Sal kidnapping Chloe. Don’t worry. We’re going to help you get her back.’

  Outside the police complex the street was deserted, no sign of Sal’s black car, no chance for me to explain to Sal what I’d been doing at the cop shop. A lone cab cruised past and I hailed it and told the driver to drop me on Chapel Street. From Chapel I ducked through the Safeway car park, down Greville Street, then followed back lanes until I slipped through the rear gate into Betty’s large back yard. Paranoid? You bet.

  Mick sat on the back steps in jeans and a white singlet playing ‘Blue Moon’ on an acoustic guitar. The notes wafted eerily through the hot night air like in a David Lynch film.

  I said, ‘The Road Goes on Forever.’

  He stopped playing, ‘Robert Earl Keen.’

  ‘Jeez,’ I walked across the overgrown grass, ‘you’re good.’ I dropped my backpack on the ground and sat next to him.

  ‘How’d it go?’ Mick asked.

  ‘Great. Farquhar’s fucked. They caught him in the act, he shot at the cops and now they’re searching his house and a storage facility.’

  ‘Teach him not to mess with Simone Kirsch.’

  ‘Damn straight,’ I smiled.

  ‘Simone,’ he said, awkwardly, ‘I’m sorry about the other night, at the pub. I don’t know what happened, if it was stress from all the weird shit that’s been going on or maybe I’ve been doing too much coke. I should stick with beer and weed, chemicals fucking mess with your head. Anyway, I really like you. I didn’t want to push you away. I’m sorry.’

  ‘You don’t have to apologise,’ I said. ‘You’re gorgeous, you play guitar up on stage, and chicks are always going to throw themselves at you. Besides, we only just met. It’s not like we’re in a relationship or anything and my life’s too ridiculous to have a boyfriend at the moment. We’re just h
aving fun, you know, casual sex, like our parents used to do in the seventies.’ God I was a good liar.

  ‘Casual sex, huh? I’d hate to see what would happen if we had serious sex.’

  ‘Me too. Let’s go find Aurora.’

  Aurora was pacing inside the retro lounge room, wearing jeans and a midriff top. She looked wired and probably was after spending the night at the Red.

  ‘Simone.’ She hugged me, held my shoulders. ‘I can’t believe that scumbag Sal. I used to work with Chloe, she’s fantastic, a great girl. I’m going to help you get her back.’

  She twisted the cap off a bottle of Jameson and poured us all a slug. I lit a tailor-made and gave one to Mick. It was great to be smoking again. We sat on the leopard-skin couch and Aurora took the chair.

  ‘Where’s Betty?’ I asked.

  ‘Asleep, final y.’ Now that Aurora wasn’t pacing she tapped her foot. ‘Had to shove a couple of sleeping pills down her throat though. Anyway, what about telling the police? I know Detective Duval, we could go directly to him.’

  I shook my head. ‘It’ll get back to Sal. He’s got cops on his payroll. I don’t know how many.’

  ‘Fuck,’ she said. ‘OK, Mick said Sal will let her go if he has proof someone else killed Frank. You’ve been investigating, who do you think killed him?’

  ‘No idea. I told Sal it was Farquhar but I can’t prove it.’

  Mick sat forward. ‘The jacks are searching Farquhar’s place tonight.’

  ‘They’ll find something to implicate him,’ Aurora said.

  ‘You reckon?’ I raised my eyebrows. It was a long shot.

  ‘The thing is,’ she continued, ‘even if you prove someone else killed Frank, what makes you think Sal will let her go, and let you live? If I were him I’d want to tie up any loose ends, and that’s you two.’

  I hadn’t thought of that. Stupid.

  ‘He said he was an honourable man.’ It sounded lame and Aurora snorted.

  ‘We’ve got to find out where he’s keeping her,’ she said. ‘Simone’s been talking to Chloe on Sal’s mobile,’

  Mick told her.

  I nodded. ‘Chloe’s stashed somewhere with a heavy named Blue. She seems OK and I think Blue’s sweet on her. They watch videos and eat crap food. I tried to listen for clues but I couldn’t hear anything. The reception was good though, I don’t think they’re out bush.’