Passion Patrol Box Set 1

Combat-3-3

“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 b****y 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 b***h!” 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.

“Let’s walk and have a chat about your mission - and I’ll get a couple of smokes on the way,” prompted Christine, taking her arm.

Looking at her, Anna found a warmth and compassion in her eyes that was not entirely unpleasant. Within herself she was beginning to discover a calculating deviousness that she didn’t like, but which gave her a sense of power that almost thrilled her. In contrast with this moment, her time with Freddie left her powerless and swept away on a wave of desire. She smiled at Christine, wondering what she knew of helpless love and the shortness of life and its seasons.

The day was bright, slightly autumnal. The sunlight shone through the polished luster of her hair. Her red lips added a tantalizing sensual splash to her beauty.

“You’re a lovely talented young woman,” declared Christine as if to a thoroughbred filly as she powered across Vauxhall Bridge, “you have a wonderful career ahead.”

Anna desperately tried to keep up in her high heels which were no match for the older woman’s burnished black brogues.

“Thank you Ma’am,” said Anna.

“Stop that bullshit... to you I’m Chris,” she ordered, taking a deep pull on her second Marlboro.

“And thanks for your help this morning at the meeting.”

“No worries - that Beaumont is such a pompous a*s. I first met him when he was a bobby at Tottenham. Absolute jargon and paperwork jockey - very modern. They used to call him the Olympic torch - because he never went out,” she laughed, “Wasn’t there some kind of thing between you two?”

“There was - I was foolish but I’ve learned from the mistake believe me. I didn’t know what I was or what I wanted.”

“And do you know now?”

“I’m beginning to see I think,” replied Anna with a deliberate note of ambiguity, sensing just a little of her power and letting her eyes stay on Christine’s face.

“Just be careful with that La Salle. He’s a bit of a charmer and Interpol has not issued chastity belts since the crusades,” warned Christine.

“I’ve never met him - I’m only going to pose as the boss’s daughter and try to sell him a boat.”

“Be careful my dear. We all felt for you after the crash - but you are damaged - you need time to repair.”

They reached the restaurant in Strutton Ground, just a short trot from Scotland Yard and took a pavement table. Chris ordered a meat feast pizza and a large lager. Anna went for a Mozzarella salad and a bottle of mineral water.

“I want you to find out who contacts La Salle and who he contacts. Does he want to win this fight? He’s been wandering about in London, so he’s obviously not in training. Then there’s Mom - she’s hauled herself up from trailer trash to loadsa cash and looks like one tough cookie.”

“What do you know about Mom?” asked Anna, trying to sound professional.

“Just what I read when Beaumont was droning on. Looks like she met Monsieur La Salle when she was a student at the Sorbonne. She’s from a poor but aspirational family who turned their back on her when she married this French poet hippy and ended up with a baby. I guess the marriage didn’t work out and she ends up back in the States.”

“Quite a story,” commented Anna.

“The story we want is some evidence on these hoods that are muscling in on sport. These gambling scams can wreck the credibility of sport all together. If these guys are still running around when the Olympics come to London, our political masters will not be amused. To be frank my sweet gal - I don’t care how we get our evidence,” said Christine flatly as if she were talking about a trip to the seaside.

“I’ll do my best,” nodded Anna, beginning to feel the weight of what she had undertaken.

“You can go to the top from this case but don’t think this is a walk in the park. This fight is in New York and our old Mafia friends will be in the shadows. You’ll be undercover without a safety net. They’ve already killed and some odd girlfriend could get caught in the crossfire. We’re talking millions and millions of dollars, pounds, euro and yen.”

Anna looked into the other woman’s eyes. She had nerves of steel and had seen it all.

“Report in as and how you can but don’t compromise your role. You’ll be out there alone. Provided your cover is intact, you shouldn’t be at risk,” added Christine, calling the waiter and paying with a large tip, waving away change. “When you get back we must have a chat about your future and how you could develop.”

“That would be nice - I wouldn’t want any favors Chris,” replied Anna, feeling very aware of herself.

“Who said anything about favors? You are very special you know. Advice and friendship is all I can offer. Now I must dash. Meeting at the Yard on Terrorism and then the BBC want an interview on s*x trade trafficking from Asia.”

As they parted, Anna was surprised to find herself embraced by her superior. Standing cheek to cheek she let herself soften a little, as Christine held her slightly too firmly.

“Sisters are doing it for themselves you know - we can really c***k this case,” said Chris. Anna returned her embrace for a second and then stepped back. Christine took a business card from her pocket and handed it to her, “this is my personal mobile. Never give it to anyone else or tell anyone that you know it. If ever you need to talk personally or need help never hesitate.”