Knockout! A Passionate Police Romance (9 page)

Every cell in her body craved and ached for him. If only she could be with him NOW!

She was out of control and reckless. Probably he would think she was a wicked girl. Maybe he knew he was in danger. She could just pretend to herself she was on his case. For sure there were crooks in the soup and with luck she could clean up the bowl and leave him aside. If the worst came to the worst she would just disappear and get on a plane.

“Yes - I’ll come.” She replied, wondering how she could possibly swing it.

“When?” He questioned, with a note of joy in his voice that thrilled her.

“Tomorrow night - a late plane into Paris Charles de Gaulle.”

“No boats to sell in London?”

Her heart was pounding. He could not imagine the hoops she was going to have to jump through. If only she were a Daddy’s girl who sold the odd boat.

“The rain stopped - the ark business is history.”

“Anna,” he exclaimed suddenly, “this is crazy - but I don’t want to stop.”

How he wanted her. He needed a girl at his side but that was just how it had started. Now things were different but he could never explain that now. Probably he would never be able to tell her.

“I’ll let you know my flight.” She said, softly kissing the phone.

“Until tomorrow.” He whispered.

Her mind swam with both joy and worry. Once again she had acted spontaneously with no idea of how to pull off such a trip. Suddenly her mind swapped back to that time before when she had just acted out of passion. It was a flaw in her nature and maybe she would have to pay for it again. She thought of holding him, the touch of his lips, his strong wide shoulders that filled her with desire and a sense of being protected. These few days now could be her entire life and there would be no regrets. She hugged the pillow and said his name over and over. Soon enough it would be another week and she would have to dig even deeper into the delicious hole that was beginning to swallow her.

The Monday morning conference came to order with Beaumont Locke performing his self important stand up and sit down ritual. A new face was at the table. Anna smiled as she recognized Deputy Assistant Commissioner Christine Jones who had overall command of the Interpol London bureau. She outranked Beaumont and both women knew each other from the streets of South London. She was in her fifties, handsome with cropped hair in a professional black pinstripe trouser suit, crisp white shirt and rugby club tie complete with red floppy hanky. She smiled at Anna with warmth that she knew was not entirely without meaning. She herself had chosen a plain deep cream suit, stockings and high heels. Her lips were deep red and her raven hair shone as it fell onto her shoulders. She had half expected to see Christine at the meeting and in view of her audacious plan had dressed to impress.

Judy moved to Anna’s side.

“The NCIS guy just lapped it all up and has done some research of his own. There’s money pouring on Freddie to lose.” She explained.

“But why can’t he win - he’s the world champion after all?”

“Because Brennan’s in his own back yard and the judges score the fight. In the States the most aggressive fighter can win even if he scores fewer points. Perhaps Freddie is in bed with these guys - but if he is why the hell is he swanning about trying to look like a loser. He needs to look like a winner but lose. The possibilities are infinite.” Said Judy with a shrug.

“Freddie must know all this. Just why the hell is he taking this fight?” Asked Anna, mainly to herself.

“That’s what you are going to find out honey.” Said Judy, patting her arm.

The young detective gave a detailed briefing. It seemed bizarre to hear Freddie talked about as a suspect or at least an object of enquiry in a police case. The speaker did a brilliant job, making Freddie look like the key to the whole business and showing himself as a gifted crime analyst, enjoying his chance to shine in front of many possible patrons.

Anna’s heart was racing, her mouth dry. She just had to stay calm to pull off this deal. The speaker brought his report to an end with the words:

“Everything points to this forthcoming fight being manipulated by a group of New York criminals. Without inside information we cannot know if La Salle or Brennan are in on the deal, but Brennan is more or less owned by the good old traditional Mafia. As world champion he would be worth a huge amount of cash for future fights and the scrap with La Salle is worth forty million dollars in gambling alone. All the money is on Brennan to win but the odds now are just for Schmucks. All the serious bets went on at 20 to 1. Freddie is driving the odds on Brennan down... so crooks won’t be too pleased with him I suspect. A real gambler would back Freddie... but a guy out of training with a girl on each arm...well, that is a gamble.”

“Do we know who killed the referee?”Asked Anna casually, reflecting she ought to know more about gambling.

An FBI analyst stood to answer.

“We can’t prove a thing but we do have information from a Jersey cab driver that a hood called Tondelli used his garage to torture him before killing him. No one outside the police knows this as far as we know.”

Anna nodded her thanks. At least the geek was up to speed. There was a short silence, broken by Christine Jones.

“Great - so we have a foot on the ladder. We can get the FBI on Brennan. As for La Salle, his last fight was surrounded by suspicion wasn’t it?” She asked.

“So, we need an operation to look at La Salle.” Said Beaumont Locke.

Anna took a deep breath and tried to suppress the adrenalin pumping into her blood.

“I may be able to help. La Salle is a client of my father. I believe I can get a good insight into him.” She said, hoping she sounded calm.

Commander Locke leaned back in his chair and looked at her. With a show of arrogance he linked his hands behind his head.

“Whoa! This is fantasy island stuff. You are an Interpol officer Inspector. Your job is liaison and issues of language and cooperation. There’s no way you can wander off on some kind of maverick mission.”

Anna swallowed her anger and glanced at Christine Jones, who smiled and almost winked.

“You have a better approach Commander Locke?” She asked coldly.

He snapped forward and spoke angrily. “I have no approach - this is the first I’ve heard of La Salle!”

“Perhaps you should keep up to date. Evidently Anna has taken the trouble to stay on top of the game.” She said with a frigid smile.

“That is neither here nor there. If we need to look at La Salle, the bloody French can do it. It is not Inspector Leyton’s job.” He spat angrily.

“As head of the Interpol Bureau I believe I may assign my own staff,” replied Christine with a menacing tweak of her eyebrow, “perhaps Anna can tell us the whole story?”

Christine beamed at Anna and signaled for her to begin. Suddenly Beaumont banged the table.

“Who is chair of this meeting? I will not have Interpol trying to grab the limelight from all these other departments.” He thundered pompously.

“So we’ll just ignore Anna’s contribution shall we? Perhaps when the Olympics come to London in 2012 we’ll get another chance. I wouldn’t want to be telling the Home Secretary that we let our little squabbles prevent us from locking up these crooks.”

Anna watched him subside. This was the kind of politics that he could not risk on his way up. Christine Jones had the ear of the Home Office and had friends in government.

She steadied her nerves and began to speak.

“Freddie La Salle is looking to buy an exclusive motor - cruiser from Leyton Marine. He is due to try out a boat in Antibes on Friday and is meeting a salesperson in Paris tomorrow morning.”

“And you are telling us that Daddy’s perfect pet is going to snuggle up to him and induce him to tell all with one sweep of your lashes Inspector.” Sneered Beaumont.

Despite the tense situation the notion of snuggling up to Freddie helped her relax.

“Why not? I’ve done plenty of undercover and surveillance work.” She fired back.

“So this fighter, this thug is just going to roll over is he? These sporty celebs have trashy tarts at every turn... ”

“Freddie is a cultured man and well known art collector.” She retorted.

“Ooh - you can look at his brushstrokes.” He mocked with a false guffaw.

“This is not a personal matter Commander. These sexist and derogatory remarks could be career threatening.” Warned Christine Jones, fixing him with an icy stare.

Around the table junior officers glanced at one another and shuffled their papers awkwardly. It was rare to be party to this kind of jousting. Anna winced inwardly, ashamed that she had used deceit to manipulate this conflict in order to fulfill her selfish desire. She comforted herself with the belief that she could provide good intelligence for the squad.

“I’m quite happy to agree to this mission - that is if Commander Locke has no further objections. This is your enquiry and I would so hate to interfere.” Announced Christine imperiously.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at her. His face was white with anger.

“She is your baby just as long as you take responsibility. You know that this is completely outside the brief of an Interpol officer.”

“Her brief is as I define it.” She replied with a thin cold steel blade of a smile.

The meeting resumed with a couple of routine reports and drew to a close. Anna bundled up her files and scampered to her office with Judy. As soon as the door was closed she slumped down and let out a long “Sheesh!”

“God - that was dinosaur stuff in there - great beasts battling it out in the political swamp. Beaumont isn’t half the man she is! You’d better watch out. I think she’s got the hots for you, unless you fancy a walk on the wild side.” Warned Judy.

Anna giggled, relieved it was over. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“You caught me off balance in there. Why go to Paris today?”

“He phoned last night.”

“And?” Judy questioned.

“Judy, I just want him so much!”

“So, it is to be a shagathon in gay Paree Inspector,” boomed Judy, mocking Beaumont’s sarcastic tone. “And just what is French for pillow talk?”

“Les confidences sur l’oreiller.” Anna replied.

“Smart Bitch!” quipped Judy. “It’s not the dreaded L word is it?”

“It’s the A word.” Laughed Anna.

“A word, what’s the A word - Aardvark?”

“Amour - Amour.” Anna enthused, reliving the word on his lips, the word pumping down the phone line, reliving the tingle of his touch, his hardness, his male scent.

“Just look at you for Pete’s sake” Said Judy, jolting her back to the present. “You’re loved up to the back teeth. Just watch out. The guy is a bull elephant and is probably a crook. If this goes wrong our beloved commander will strip you off and peg you out for the crows. Haven’t you had enough trouble for a while Anna?”

“I know. I’m misleading everyone but I just can’t help it” She replied seriously. Judy reached across the desk and squeezed her hand.

“If you love him then that’s reason enough.” She said calmly.

“Do you believe that? This isn’t some soft romance novel Judy. Is love a big enough reason?”

“It is the reason Anna. Love is when they give you a free pass just as long as you’re prepared to pay any price.”

“You’re a real diamond Judy.” Replied Anna, taking her friend’s comment as a blessing. Already she had her cell phone in her hand and was texting Freddie as Christine Jones breezed in to the office.

“You guys free for lunch?”

“Ma’am - I’ve gotta get down to Sainsbury’s - Little Mia has a party and... ”

“Oh the joys of motherhood, I was far more hood than mother,” said Christine wearily “Always figured this rotten world didn’t need any more of my weird genes.”

“Never quite saw it like that.” Replied Judy, a little taken aback.

“Thank goodness... anyway - Anna you can join an old girl surely.”

Anna smiled warmly. Christine Jones was a police icon. With her brilliant legal mind she was a qualified barrister. Anna had first met her when she was a Detective Superintendent at Streatham. Having already been voted by street cops the man you most wanted on your side in a fight, criminals awarded her awarded the nickname of “The Blue Witch”.

Now she was in her last couple of years and could have already retired to a cottage. She was stocky without being overweight and her face was untouched by makeup. Her only ornamentation was a gent’s wristwatch with a broad brown leather strap.

Anna fell in by her side.

“There’s a new Italiano across the river - you can show off your language skills. How lovely and talented you are Anna - it will be wonderful. They have all those confused waiter boys with tight little bottoms.”

Anna could see a wry smile on Judy’s face. She admired Christine professionally but had no doubt as to her outrageous personal character. Her intervention at the meeting had been fantastic and she regretted how she had deceived her. She didn’t want to undermine any future trust between them, let alone any career implications.