by J-L Heylen
Chapter 3
The hotel really was directly on the beach front, just like the advertising had promised. In the past, Charlie had anticipated so many establishments with alluring names like ‘Riverview’, ‘Lakeside’, and ‘Sea Breeze’, only to find on arrival that these were as far from the promised water mass as was humanly possible without being sued. Despite being so reasonably priced when she booked, this hotel was absolutely true to its word.
Charlie had changed into Kevlar jeans and jacket after hiring a purring Kawasaki from Sydney airport. The day was warm, so upon arrival at the hotel she stripped off the jacket and helmet before going into the foyer. On the way, she directed a valet to get her gear and move the bike to the hotel’s car park.
I could get used to this, Charlie decided. She flicked the jacket over her shoulder and ran a hand though her short, but still quite sweaty, helmet hair, ruffling it slightly to get some body into it.
Charlie went straight to the counter and showed the concierge her booking information.
“Wow,” He said, after a few moments of typing and screen navigation, “you got this for a good price. I don’t even remember seeing the promo. Welcome to Bondi Grandview, Doctor Parish. You’re in room 501, the beach-front side,” the concierge continued, as he pushed a digital key enclosed in a tasteful leather card-holder, across to Charlie. “That’s one of the best rooms in the hotel. Michael will take you up.” He gestured to a lad who didn’t look old enough to be employed, who promptly floated forward with Charlie’s case and pack in one hand. The young man plucked the heavy jacket from Charlie in a deft movement, and turned to lead off towards the lifts.
Unseen by Charlie, because she was intentionally concealed behind a pillar, stood Julia Parish. She had not expected to find Charlie in the same hotel as herself, and when she walked through the front door and saw Charlie’s pert arse and shock of hair dyed in patches of purple, blue and bottle-blond, she had arrested her planned approach to the counter.
Julia couldn’t have said exactly why she had stalled. Charlie and she had already exchanged mobile numbers, and Charlie had finally agreed to come to dinner with Julia as they both strolled together from the plane. There was technically no reason why Julia needed to avoid further contact, but something in Julia whispered that things were going well enough, and there was no need to scare the horses by heavy-handedness.
XXXX
There was a pleasant breeze toying with Charlie as she lounged on the balcony sipping a beer as she worked. She had a plan for a couple of raids and a stake-out for the next few days, and the only thing left on her list of things to do before she got ready to go out to dinner, was to confirm tomorrows work activities with her NSW Police liaison.
Charlie pulled a t-shirt on over her bikini top and called Steele on skype.
She had worked with Steele Hardy before, and once they had both gotten through the inevitable one-upmanship of whose evidence would clinch the case, they had both decided they liked each other. Steele was the sort of laconic career cop who seemed to do well in NSW. He was gritty, intelligent, and tough, and had a reputation for not being corrupt. It was a wonder he had got as far as he did, Charlie had thought when she first met him a year ago. After a couple of joint operations since, she understood completely how Steele had risen through the ranks. He was a unique combination of gruff and likeable, and it seemed his colleagues thought so too.
Steel answered the call immediately, with characteristic humour. “Hey, tomboy, you here already?”
“As you see, Steelo,” Charlie answered, turning the laptop to show the beach scene from the balcony. “Did you get my email with the proposed schedule?”
“I did, and I’ve already got sign off to issue you with equipment. Can you be here at eight in the morning?”
“I can, but what equipment?”
“Small arms, holster, flack vest. Come on Cha Cha, let’s not have this argument again. You didn’t win last time, and you won’t this time either.”
Charlie knew she was a geek, not an action hero, and she always felt more vulnerable carrying a gun than not. She’d never argued about wearing a bullet-proof vest though.
“Can we at least re-consider the gun?” Charlie asked, in her most reasonable voice, reserved for domineering lovers and recalcitrant children. “I’m a danger to myself and the public.”
“You’re a trained law enforcement officer, Charlie. And I’ve seen you on the range. You’re a better shot than I am, and this is not a discussion. Don’t make me pull rank.”
“I don’t give a toss what you pull, Steele,” Charlie countered, in a rare show of word-play.
Steele laughed. “See you at eight A.M. Now, tell me about this rogue agent you think is closing down our best leads?”
“Not much else to tell other than what’s in the report, but whoever is doing it seems pretty naive. They seem to be able to find the right sites and servers, but then they shut down everything, rather than just the illegal stuff. It’s making our job five times harder, and then some. Just when we find a useful lead, and get an idea of who is responsible and where they are going next, the trail disintegrates under our very eyes, taking the evidence with it. I can’t decide whether the perpetrator is trying to help us or hinder us. I can only hope Cassandra has given us some real people to investigate this time. If we find another empty warehouse like we did in Brisbane, my Super isn’t going to be happy.”
“Mine either. Your little spy has been so accurate in the past though. Could there be a human spy in the mix, I wonder? I might check that this afternoon.”
“Look for a new officer with overt fundamentalist Christian righteousness! Not to mention a PhD in computing or electronic engineering, with a smattering of knowledge in forensic accounting for good measure.”
“Rather like you then?”
Charlie laughed nervously, “Yes, I suppose so, but I’m not new, and I’m definitely not righteous, or religiously oriented. I don’t give a bugger about the adult porn sites. If someone wants to look at pictures of grown men trussed up in leather with a gimp mask and their goollies hanging out, that’s their look out - as long as it doesn’t involve children.”
Steel laughed. “Cha Cha, what ‘ya doin for dinner. Want to get together with me and some of the team?”
“I’ve got a date. But I’ll text you if I need a sick grandmother.”
“What, like a real date? Tell all,” Steele goaded, sounding like a bitchy girlfriend.
“Yes, a real date. Dinner, chat, maybe more if I like her as much as I like the look of her.”
“Name?”
“Julia.”
“Well, enjoy. Remember, eight A.M. No hang-overs allowed.”
“Will I be banned from packing a weapon if I’m fragile?” It was worth a try, Charlie figured.
“Honey, what you pack out of work time is your own affair, but if you’re at work with me, you are going to carry a gun, no matter how bloody fragile you are. Ciao!”
“Ciao.”
