Knockout! A Passionate Police Romance (21 page)

Inside she felt as if she had turned to cold stone and that even that was splitting in two.

“What can you do Anna - except float around as bait for the sharks? You can’t tell the bosses that in a week you have got engaged to and split up from the target.”

She thought for a minute. She hadn’t begun to think it through. She needed a big lie.

“I’ve been invited to meet mom... um... I didn’t tell the conference because the Judas might be one of the team. Mom is thinking about a boat charter business working out of Monterey. Yeah - Leyton Marine could lease her a couple of boats and if the clients wanted to buy at the end of the charter we could fix a commission for her. How’s that for a deal?”

She laughed at her own deviousness.

“I’d hate to have you as an enemy Anna. You make Machiavelli look like Santa Claus.”

“And talking of Machiavelli... we need to get a move on!”

Anna opened her laptop and started to change all her passwords. Then she copied all files onto a spare hard drive. Judy watched curiously.

“OK - I’ve just gotta ask what you’re doing?”

“Look - I’m gonna swap laptops with a suspect that’s all.”

“Suspect?”

Anna nodded as a revelation began to sink in. Judy looked incredulous.

“Beaumont - you are going to steal a police commander’s laptop because you think he put the tip on the website! Anna… you had better get this right. These machines are encrypted... how can you get into the hard drive? He won’t have just left it in a file.”

“I can’t get into it - but I hope I know a woman who can.” Replied Anna with a steely smile.

“You’re risking everything Anna. Everything! You’ve met some guy and you have lost the plot honey. God - why couldn’t it be me?”

Anna laughed and took a deep breath. Everything was only one thing- and he was on the other side of the Atlantic.

Christine Jones sat next to Anna. She was an upright woman, strangely handsome and aristocratic. She wore a rather dated woolen trouser suit with a white shirt and Hendon police college honors graduate tie. Her graying hair was neatly bobbed and her hazel eyes hinted at a quick intelligence more than kindness.

“You look so beautiful Anna. I’m so proud of your work on this case.”

Commander Locke smiled through gritted teeth. Christine was well aware of his tension and was obviously enjoying the tease.

“So - can we get you to the States? You’d be undercover without a safety net.”

“It’s out of the question. The likes of Tondelli may have found out who she is.” Insisted Beaumont.

“Police work is not without its dangers Commander. It’s not just about management training, knighthoods and pensions you know.” Smiled Christine, twisting a knife into a soft spot.

“I’ve been invited to speak to mom about a lease deal on a couple of boats.” Anna said plainly. Her heart was pounding. She just had to pull this off.

Beaumont looked up at the ceiling as if appealing for divine help. Anna took the chance to spot his lap top under his desk and slid hers alongside as if she was merely putting it down. From the corner of her eye she caught Christine’s questioning glance and a slight nod. She knew what she was doing. The Blue Witch! She knew!

“Well - Bravo! That’ll do nicely.” Exclaimed Christine.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Beaumont stuttered.

“I believe I head the Interpol bureau Commander… the Home Office is very keen to see democratic British police on a world stage. Fighting the causes of crime in every dark corner of Tyranny; extending ideas of justice, freedom and democracy to the people of the world. Did you hear the minister’s recent speech Beaumont?”

“Of course.”

“That’s settled then. Lunch at the House of Lords so must dash.” Announced Christine standing up.

Anna bent down and collected the laptop without a blink. Her heart thumped. She was a cop and a professional. All the same pulling a stunt on another officer hurt - even though it was Beaumont. Risking an undercover colleague out of personal spite was a low as you could go. They all lived by the same code.

She turned and walked from the office. Once outside she looked at Christine, remembering that this woman was a Deputy Assistant Commissioner of Scotland Yard who had just seen her pull a swap on a police Commander’s laptop.

“Get going Anna - Get out of the building. You have my number - call me in 20 minutes.” She whispered. She half ran to her office.

“Judy - get me booked on any flight to LA or San Fran. Call me with details. If anyone wants me tell them I’ve gone sick with a migraine.”

She made for the door. Suddenly she turned back to look at her poor bewildered friend once again left with all the unglamorous mess and trouble.

“When this is over I’ll make all this up to you Judy - I promise.”

“Don’t be so soft - just come back.”

The two women embraced and parted. Now there would be fun!

Once clear of the building Anna made for the Tate Gallery on the embankment. She knew the steps would be crowded and she could see anyone approaching long before anyone could spot her. She just hoped he had used this laptop. He was a useless cop. So he had seen the website entry had he? How odd - it had never gone out live!

She took out the business card Christine had given her and called the number.

“Great minds think alike my dear.” Said Christine

“What?”

“I thought the same darling - but I didn’t quite have the balls to nick the evidence. I have a squad set up and running on this little matter but it looks like you’ve jumped the gun.”

Anna gasped. Just what did this woman know? How bloody ruthless was she?

“Can we meet on the steps of the Tate?”

“I can see you already,” replied Christine.” I need a smoke - just stay where you are.”

Anna watched as an official black Jaguar pulled up. Christine stepped out and watched the car speed away along Millbank towards Parliament Square. She lit a cigarette and climbed the steps.

“I’ve got a friend popping over to meet us. We could get a coffee.”

“Popping over?”

“From across the river darling.”

Across the river rose the famous modern headquarters of the Secret Intelligence Service - MI6.

“James Bond?”

“Jane Bond actually - a wonderful young gal - and a very close friend.”

Anna took in the meaning. This was unreal. She was at the brink of another world of wonderful seductive power.

The older woman offered her arm for Anna to take.

“I’m harmless you know - but I won’t deny a taste for rare beauty.” She said urbanely as they walked into the gallery as if walking arm in arm with such a woman was the most natural thing in the world.

They sipped coffee. Christine looked over her cup raising an eyebrow.

“How did you know it was Beaumont?”

“It’s in his kiss.” Joked Anna.

“That’s where it is...” sang Christine with a conspiratorial smile of understanding.

“The Cher song... the website entry used the word Cher. The first time I ever met him he made a little joke about me being “my dear” - “Cher”- in French - because of my long dark hair. I guess he didn’t remember.”

“Huh - he never was much of a cop. We used to say he couldn’t detect a gas leak with a box of matches!”

Anna smiled.

“How did you know?”

“Gut feeling - my guess is that he thought he would just blow you out with La Salle. He didn’t want you killed. It was just spiteful ex lover stuff. When he learned a real killer like Tondelli was on that plane into Nice he went to pieces. When he said he’d seen the website entry I knew it was the old trick of stealing your wallet then helping you look for it.”

Just then Christine stood up and greeted a young woman with a kiss on the lips. Anna stood and shook hands, quickly taking in a beautiful coltish girl of about twenty seven with a riot of auburn curls. Her slightly freckled face was fresh and shrieked English upper class. She wore a pink silk blouse open sufficiently to reveal ample milky white breasts. So this was a spy! There was something about this girl that even made Anna aware of the innocent sexuality of a woman. Something about the soft tempting blossom of a female, some hint of what a man would feel - what Freddie would feel for her.

“This is a police encrypted laptop - we need to decode the hard drive.” Breezed Christine.

“What about passwords?” Asked Anna naively.

The girl smiled.

“We don’t knock at many front doors.” She said in a slightly patronizing accent.

Anna nodded. This woman was from a place with different rules. Her mind flipped to Freddie. Somewhere he was alive, transmitting his aura...

Then the girl was gone and Christine was phoning her driver.

“I’ll call you as soon as we have the information. Keep yourself out of reach. I’ve got this wretched meeting at the House of Lords. The minister fancies me as a law and order battle axe on the red benches - Baroness of Streatham or some such.”

She was amazing. They hugged and Christine strolled away to her waiting Jaguar, pulling hard on yet another Marlboro.

For a moment she paused on the steps. All around young students spilled out like pots of paint on a canvas of stone. All those strangers - all those unknown lives of birthdays, tragedies, tattoos, ambitions and regrets. Here in this circus only she knew the depth of her desolation and her fear for what the future held.

It was rush hour on Oxford Street when Christine called. If she was going to California to meet mom and watch a World title fight she would need to be dressed. Anna listened to the news transfixed.

“It’s all on there Anna. The day after you went to Paris he placed that message. We have had a discussion and he has gone. The minister has offered him a safe parliamentary seat. Beaumont has made a press release telling a grateful public that he intends to bring his experience to the Palace of Westminster. There’s a by-election next month for some spot near Manchester. All it needs now is for the voters to share his own opinion of himself.”

“It all seems incredible.” She stammered.

“Just be careful Anna - you’ll be flying in under the radar and we may not be able to see you. Keep your head - this is not a Mills and Boon novel.”

“I’m just a girl selling boats.” She began.

“And I’m the sugar plum fairy,” laughed Christine. “I don’t care how we get these thugs locked up so I’m not going to ask you too many questions. Just for now I’m not gonna ask how some dead reporter has your number... I expect you to stand by your man - he’s not our target honey.”

Anna gulped. So she knew about the poor little guy shot dead in Kilburn.

“Chris - look, that reporter...”

“Ciao Anna,” Christine interrupted. “I’m on top of all that... just pull this one off for us ok. I’ll look after all the local stuff.”

Anna took the tube from Oxford Circus back to Queens Park. Once home she poured a large glass of wine but set it aside. She dressed herself in Freddie’s gown and the Cartier ring on the chain around her neck. She opened her e-mail. A message from Judy set out her travel schedule. Police driver pick up at 11.30 to Heathrow Terminal 5. Flight, British Airways 0287 to San Francisco. Driver will have dossier of all known addresses and contacts including an assigned FBI agent - John Mayer. Local flight to Monterey. Room booked at the Monterey Bay Inn, Cannery Row.

Judy worked so hard and all that with two kids to bring up. When all this was over she would not forget her friend.

She picked up the wine but hesitated. A thought she dare not think, a thought somehow burrowed inside her flashed across her mind. Best leave the wine... you never know.

Then she sent a reckless text - “I love you my bull and my poet! I’m coming to find you. If you never want to see me again just ask the boys to kill me - I won’t be hiding.”

She stabbed the send button and folded herself up on her lonely bed. The message zipped away into space - but at least it had left her heart. The heavy male perfume of the robe aroused her but brought no desire for completion. It would merely amplify her loneliness. She longed for him inside her. She recalled how he had thrust into her just three days ago on the deck of the boat. She had been wild and carefree. There was only a small chance of pregnancy. She turned her face into the fabric of the gown and let her tears mix with the musk of his body. And so what if she had fallen for his child? They would be linked and his baby would look to her face for love and draw life from her breast. In her turmoil she could not tell if she wanted such a problem or not.

As she drifted into sleep she saw his face. The kind gentle eyes that she had seen brim with tears at some secret sorrow. She would not be much of a detective if she could not at least unlock this mystery.

On the flight she had the chance to study the dossier. Her attention shot to the phone number and address in Pacific Grove for Mrs. Linda La Salle. Somehow she was going to have to get through the natural hostility of this woman. She had deceived her son and made a fool of him. She had no right to expect any cooperation even if Linda La Salle was not herself a crook who would exploit her own son out of greed.