by Peter Ralph
“I know. His manager’s told me that before.” She smiled.
“Mick organized for you to be here. Has he ever done that before?”
“You’ve got a lot of questions. I learned long ago that you stay healthy in this business by keeping your mouth shut. So long as I earn what I’d normally earn, I just do what I’m told. If I’m getting paid to service a John then I service him.”
“I’m not a John,” Aspine scowled, and then forced a smile. “Tell me has Mick ever paid you to service anyone before?”
“No.” Candy lied. “You’re the first.”
“I bet.” Aspine smirked. “Okay, that’s enough foreplay. Let’s go in the bedroom.”
He kicked off his shirt and pants and jumped on the bed. “I want to watch you undress. Do it slowly.”
“Fine,” Candy said.
Aspine enjoyed what he was seeing. She had a lithe, tanned body, teardrop breasts and long, toned legs. When she was down to her G-string he said, “Come over here.” He wasn’t quite ready and placed her hand on his semi aroused penis. A few minutes later he mounted and thrust himself deep inside of her. The feel of his scarred hands on her body sent tremors down her spine. As he rolled off and turned his back to her she noticed the finely stitched scars behind his ears and, these together with the scar she had felt on his stomach told her that he had extensive plastic surgery. He swung around abruptly to face her. “What are you looking at?”
“I was admiring your surgeon’s skills.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He snarled.
“I can see the stitches behind your ears and I felt the scar on your stomach. Don’t worry, no one’s ever going to pick that you’ve had a facelift. Who’s your surgeon? Don’t get touchy, he did a great job.”
Fuck, she’s a smart bitch and there’s no point denying it. “Why do you want to know?”
“I’m thinking about getting a boob job.” She lied. “I’ve been on the lookout for a good surgeon and your guy looks the goods.”
Aspine cupped one of her breasts in his hand, not noticing the look of revulsion that passed across her face. “You don’t need a boob job, honey. Well not yet anyway, and when you do, my surgeon’s in Bangkok and he’s far too expensive for you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You’d be shocked at how pricey he is. He has a special group of clients. Here,” he said, putting her hand on one of his love handles. “I’m seeing him in the next few weeks to get rid of these.”
“They’re not that bad,” she said. “You’re very vain.”
“They’re ugly. I bet your younger clients don’t have them.”
“I don’t have young clients. How could they afford me?”
“What about a boyfriend?”
“You can’t have boyfriends in a job like this. There’ll be time for them in few years’ time after I’ve set myself up and finished working.”
You’re a good liar. You’re not going to breathe a word about Jack Bartlett are you? “So when was the last time you were with a young guy?”
“Jeez, you ask a lot of questions. So long ago, I can’t remember.” Candy laughed. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
He watched her stroll out of the bedroom, totally starkers, seemingly without a care in the world. If you weren’t one of Mick McHugh’s major assets I’d soon loosen your tongue with a few well timed backhanders. She certainly didn’t lack confidence and why would she with her looks and body? Her tan contrasted against the tiny white part that her bikini covered and he felt a slight stirring. He hadn’t thought about firing two shots since his escape. Perhaps now was the time. When she returned she stood in the doorway. “Do you want to watch some telly?”
“Fuck the television. I like your landing strip.” He grinned. “Why don’t you bring it over here?”
He groped her breasts and put one hand between her legs but the stirring he’d felt had vanished. Angry, he seized her hand and placed it around his limp dick and when that failed, he grabbed her behind the neck forcing her head down. “No, no, not without a condom,” she gasped, pulling away.
“I’m clean. I don’t have syphilis or AIDS. And how are we going to bloody well get a condom on?”
“Hang on,” she said, standing up and opening her overnight bag. “I’ll just get a glass of water.” When she returned, she handed him the glass with a little blue tablet. “This will solve your little problem.”
“Viagra! Fucking Viagra. I don’t need that shit,” Aspine scowled, throwing the tablet away. “We’re done. You can show yourself out.”
Candy dressed quickly. “Goodbye,” she said.
As she reached the front door, Aspine yelled, “I bet you made damn sure that young Jack never had any trouble getting it up more than once.”
She paused before pulling the door open. So that’s why the weirdo asked so many questions about young guys. He was the client and that’s why Mick made him a gift of me. I wonder what Jack did to the arsehole?
Chapter 46
“CONGRATULATIONS RAJ,” MULLER SAID. “I have to say I thought you might still be in the cells.”
“Bail was never in doubt. If that fool of a judge hadn’t been grandstanding last week, I wouldn’t have even spent one night in the cells. I had to surrender my passport, but I expect to get it back within a few weeks.”
“When do you go to trial?”
“In six months, but the charges will be dropped long before then. I’ll never go to trial. My lawyers will prove beyond any doubt that I was framed.”
“I don’t believe you’ve met Sir Edwin Philby, Raj,” Jasmine said. “And this is Fiona Jeczik and Harry Denton.”
“I’d like to say it’s a pleasure, but under the circumstances I cannot. I do, of course, know of your backgrounds, and Jasmine has told me what Aspine has done to each of you. I don’t know what else he has planned, but he’s an evil man, and we must stop him before he does more damage.”
“Let’s go into the dining room. Mr Muller, you know more than anyone else. You sit at the head of the table,” Jasmine said.
“Please, it’s Bill.” Muller sighed, knowing it would make no difference. “Let’s get started. Firstly, does everyone agree that Douglas Aspine is behind the events that have befallen you?”
There were murmured assents from around the table.
“Do you think he’s here or is he orchestrating everything from overseas?” Muller asked.
“He’s here and he’s very close by,” Harry said.
“I agree,” Fiona said. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he took those pics and video of Jack that are on the net.”
“Tha…that means he was out the front and followed us to the clinic,” Jasmine gasped. “He was here watching Jack get loaded in the ambulance.”
“Settle down, my sister. I promise you he’ll not get that close again. What do you think, Bill?”
“I’m not so sure he’s here, but if he is, I’m sure that he no longer looks anything like he once did. The man who I believe is helping him, Mick McHugh, is more than capable of engineering these setups.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of this McHugh. Why can’t we approach him, and if he won’t cooperate, put the police onto him?” Raj asked.
Before Muller could reply, Fiona said, “Mick McHugh is Australia’s John Gotti. Our most feared criminal. He has vast resources including a small army of thugs who’d kill you as soon as look at you. Even the police are wary of him.”
“That’s right,” Muller agreed. “He won’t tell us anything and the police won’t approach him without solid evidence. Raj, what did your people find out in Singapore?”
“Four of my servants have disappeared including my valet who’s been with me for over ten years. I trust him implicitly. I think that two of my servants, gardeners, were thugs and members of one of the gangs. I suspect they threatened to harm to my valet’s family unless he helped them plant the drugs. He has vanished and I fear he may be dead.”
> “If Douglas Aspine walked in this room right now, I’d kill him,” Harry said.
Fiona rested her hand on his. “Have you heard from Mary?”
“Not a word. She’s disappeared,” Harry said, fighting back tears.
“Harry, I’ll find her,” Muller said. “After we’ve finished, let me have her credit card and bank account details along with her vehicle registration. I’ll find her within forty-eight hours. Don’t worry.”
“Can we get back to finding Aspine if he’s here?” Raj asked. “Does anyone have any suggestions where we might start?”
“Hold on,” Muller said. “I want you all to think whether you’ve seen anyone loitering or out of place. Someone who’s quite tall. Someone who engaged you in conversation. Someone you might have felt uneasy about?”
There were only blank faces and shaking of heads.
“That makes me think he’s orchestrating everything from overseas. That would be the smart thing to do.” Muller said.
“Bill, he’s here,” Sir Edwin said. “Of that I am certain.”
“If he’s here and we can find him, we can put him back in Changi. Have we got anything? Something that resembles a lead,” Raj said.
“Only the girl who seduced Jack. She works in one of McHugh’s escort agencies,” Muller replied.
“Anneka’s a prostitute.” Jasmine gasped.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to have to tell you about her, Jasmine. Oh, and the name she goes by at the agency is Candy.”
“It’s not much of a lead,” Raj said. “All it does is take us to McHugh, and we know he’s not going to say anything. Is it even worth questioning her?”
“My bloody oath, it is. When I was on the force and we were getting nowhere with an investigation we used to start shaking trees and you’d be amazed at some of the stuff that fell out. I want to shake Candy’s tree.”
“You do that, Bill,” Raj said. “I’ll put some more pressure on my people in Singapore to see if they can come up with something. Remember, be vigilant. I don’t think he’s finished yet. I’d give a million dollars to know what he looks like. As soon as anyone knows anything we’ll have another meeting. And Bill, don’t think that we don’t appreciate what you are doing. He hasn’t hurt you, so you have no reason to be involved. You are a good man. I intend to reward you generously for your time, and if you need help, perhaps the assistance of a private detective or the need to pay a bribe, please don’t hesitate. I will cover all of your expenses. We must stop this man before he causes anymore harm.”
After the others had left, Jasmine asked, “Are you all right, Raj. You seem to be very worried.”
“I’m fine, but I have some powerful enemies in Singapore who are trying to undermine me. Some are saying that I made my money as a drug runner. I need to get back for a few days.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ve caused you so much trouble.”
“It wasn’t you. So long as I have more friends than enemies everything will be all right. I need to get back home to make sure that my friends don’t switch sides.”
“Maybe we were wrong to frame him,” Jasmine said.
“Don’t ever think that. He is pure evil. Had the authorities done their job properly we would never have had to do what we did. He is scum, Jasmine, and don’t ever forget he drove your beloved Kerry to suicide.”
Chapter 47
THE EXECUTIVE SUITE WAS located in a two storey Edwardian terrace on the outskirts of the city in upmarket East Melbourne. Bill Muller had phoned on the pretext of being a punter and been told that Candy would be on the premises until 8 P.M. The receptionist had also let him know that Candy was very expensive and that perhaps one of the other girls would be more to his liking. He’d said he would think about it and get back to her. It was 7.30 P.M. and he was parked in the street with a clear view of the building and the laneway to a small car park at the rear. He hadn’t seen any of the punters use the car park, instead preferring the two hour meters in the street. After waiting forty minutes, Muller watched as a silver CLK Mercedes convertible barrelled down the laneway and onto the street. He hit the accelerator and followed it along Victoria Street until it turned abruptly into the Victoria Gardens Shopping Centre. As he drove into the car park he saw Candy get out of the Merc and walk briskly toward the shops. She hadn’t bothered to put the roof up so he knew he wouldn’t have long to wait.
Ten minutes later she returned carrying two plastic bags. As she climbed in behind the steering wheel, Muller moved. He was wearing a grey suit, his collar was undone and the knot in his tie was halfway down his shirt. His suit coat was undone and as he stood above Candy his shoulder holster was clearly visible, though she couldn’t know there was no gun in it.
“Candy,” he said, flashing his wallet. “I’m Bill Muller. How’s the ice business?”
“Bloody coppers.” She moaned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? I have a statement from Jack Bartlett stating that Anneka Nordstrom regularly provided him with ice over a three month period. You wouldn’t happen to know Anneka would you?” Muller grinned.
“Smartarse,” she said. “I want to talk to my lawyer.”
“I don’t think you do. I think you want to talk to Mick but unfortunately you can’t because he’s been otherwise detained.” Muller lied. “Besides, you haven’t been charged with anything so you don’t need a lawyer. I’m not interested in you, but I am interested in the low-life who put you up to it.”
“Put me up to what?”
“Don’t get funny with me. You got that kid onto ice and then you got him hooked. Now he’s in a drug rehabilitation clinic, he may never get back to his studies and you could’ve ruined his life. His mum’s sick with stress and his younger brother’s a complete mess. You’re not a very nice person are you? If it was up to me I’d make sure you were charged with trafficking and did at least a year behind bars, but those who I report to are prepared to let you go if you cooperate and come clean.”
“I want to go off the record.”
“I can live with that.”
“I liked Jack and I hated what happened to him, but you have to understand, once I was told what to do, I had no choice.”
“Yeah, I know, Mick can be very persuasive.”
“It wasn’t him, and even if it was, I wouldn’t tell you. I want to live.”
“If it wasn’t him, it was one of his lieutenants, wasn’t it?”
“I…I can’t say.”
“Christ, why’d you want go off the record? You’ve told me nothing. Do you have any idea who the client is?”
“Not the slightest.”
Muller stared at her. She’d paused for just a second before answering, just long enough to tell him that she was lying. “Candy, I want to help you, but you’ve gotta help me. You know who he is.”
“No. No, I don’t. Well, not for certain.”
“Tell me about him. I’ll check him out. No one will ever know you told me.”
“I need to think about it. Give me your phone number. I’ll phone you in the morning.”
Muller handed her one of his old cards with all the phone numbers except his mobile crossed out. “The office numbers have changed. I’m getting new cards printed.” He lied. “Don’t talk to anyone about our conversation because if we end up with no one else to charge, you’ll be going to jail for as long as we can put you there.” Christ, if I get caught using that card, it’ll be me heading off to jail.
“If I decide to help you, I don’t want to go to a police station, I won’t make a statement and I won’t be a witness in any court proceedings. And if we meet, you’ll be the only cop there. Do you understand?”
“Sorry, I’m going to have a sketch artist with me. Don’t worry. We’ll meet at my home. When I know you’re coming I’ll leave my garage open and you can drive straight in. No one will ever know we met.”
“Don’t count your chickens. I may decide that I can’t help you.”
“You mean
won’t and if you’re silly enough not to help, I promise you, you’re going to jail, and you’ll learn a few things in a women’s prison that even in your profession you’ve never experienced before.” Muller said, his demeanour deadly serious. And that bullshit will add two years to my sentence.
“I got the message before,” Candy snapped, turning on the ignition. “I’ll sleep on it.”
Mick McHugh was in his usual place when Aspine entered the bar of the Birmingham but surprisingly, was by himself. He looked up and grinned. “G’day, Mr Schmitt.”
“What are you on about, Mick?”
“That’s your new name; Osker Schmitt,” Mick said, pushing a folder over to Aspine, marked Osker Elias Schmitt.
“Osker fucking Schmitt. Fuck, how’d you come up with that?”
“Look at passport and driver’s licence.”
The likeness was incredible and if Aspine had parted his hair on the other side it was an almost perfect match. The driving licence was eight years old so the photo was of a younger man but the similarity was uncanny. There was a birth certificate and a brief history of Osker’s life. He’d been born forty-six years ago in Sydney to German immigrant parents. “Have the photos been doctored?”
“Nope, they’re the originals. Ya got lucky with the match, and better still, Osker was an only child with no relatives in Australia. I shoulda charged ya a hundred thousand. You’re setup for the rest of ya life.”
“How’d you make the match?”
“My people stuck your photo in the computer and then matched it against the six hundred already stored. Then up came Osker.”
Aspine was no longer surprised by the expertise McHugh seemed to have at his fingertips. “You didn’t tamper with the passport and licence in any way?”
“Didn’t touch ‘em. All you have to do is master Osker’s signature.”
“Pity it’s such shit of a name. I don’t know that I like being the son of krauts.”
