Incy Wincy Spider

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Incy Wincy Spider Page 5

by Alex Focus

Sydney - Three years ago

  I had been working in the Homicide Division for about two years, when I first met Sonia Lewis, an officer in the Federal police, more commonly referred to as the Feds. We were thrown together because I had been investigating a series of three murders that seemed to lead back to one major crook, John Keats, the new 'Mr. Sin'.

  Mr. Sin was the head of a crime syndicate that had its hands in every type of crime and amoral act in the state of New South Wales. It now seemed that Mr. Sin had not been satisfied with just one state, but had spread his slimy tentacles all over Australia, Hence, he had awaken the special attention of the Feds.

  She came into my office one stifling hot Monday afternoon and introduced herself abruptly and then proceeded to demand to know what I knew about Mr. Sin and to see my case files. It was almost instant dislike, I told her to bugger off back to Canberra. She had exited my office in a huff, slamming my door on the way out. I remember shouting, "And fuck you too." Although I had not been impressed by her manners, her looks had me wondering whether I should have played my part a little more smartly.

  "Oh well, what's done is done" I had consoled myself, "I'll probably never see her again, anyway". Three minutes later, I was proven wrong.

  My intercom buzzed and the calm, deep voice of my boss, Detective Senior Inspector Jack Pollard, asked me to please step into his office for a minute. When I arrived and entered his well-appointed kingdom, she was there, sitting in one of the chairs facing his mahogany desk.

  "Louie, come in ? I believe you have ? err ? Met Sonia Lewis, from the Federal Police?" He asked, with no noticeable reprimand in his voice. But I knew that he never asked anyone to his office to congratulate them on a job-well-done. For that, he would come down personally and offer his thanks and a "keep up the good work". He was a good boss, demanding but fair.

  "Err ? Yes, Sir ? Ms Lewis and I just met in my office," I admitted, still standing near the doorway and avoiding eye contact with her, as she turned around to face me.

  "Is there a problem with us cooperating fully with Sonia, Louie?" he asked, but it was no question.

  "Err ... No Sir, no problem at all," I said. "But Ms. Lewis ?" I started to make some sort of excuse. But he interrupted me and looking at Sonia.

  "There you are, my dear Sonia ? You see? It's just like I told you. Louie is very a very cooperative kind of guy, I am sure it was just a misunderstanding," he said, then turned to me. "Wasn't it Louie?" His tone was as cold as an iceberg.

  "Yes, Sir? That's what it was, exactly, Sir," I remember babbling. One thing you did not need in that department, was Detective Inspector Pollard speaking to you in that manner more than once a year?that is, if you did not wish to return to directing traffic somewhere in the back of Whoop Whoop.

  "Louie, what Sonia is working on, is right down your alley. So for the remainder of the Investigation you two will work together as partners?understood?" He said in no uncertain terms.

  "But Sir?my cases?Steve?" I tried to protest, to no avail.

  "Steve will be fine without you for a little while and he can carry on with your other cases, Okay?" Again a question that was not a question. I gave up.

  "Yes Sir," I nodded, unhappily.

  "Well, you two?" He said, standing up and motioning toward the door, "go forth and collaborate!" He finished with a smile. We both smiled in respect and exited his office. I led the way back to mine, but I allowed her to enter first - pissed off, but forever the gentleman, she was a dish after all. Although, just for an instant, I did consider tripping her.

  I sat in my chair and looked down in my lap unable to say anything closely resembling civilized conversation.

  "How about lunch? On me?" She had said out of the blue.

  "Uh?" I had answered, forever the expert conversationalist.

  "Lunch...let me take you to lunch, please?as an apology," she repeated. I looked up and this time I saw her, the woman inside, not the arrogant cop that had entered my office a few minutes before. She was blushing a little; as if she feared that a refusal on my part would be too much to bear, her lips trembled slightly as she waited my answer. Like the dingbat I am, I think I fell in love with her then and there?go figure!

  "Sure?lunch, I think that's a great idea," I said, bad mood dissipating like mist in sunshine. She smiled back in relief, showing me a set of teeth that any one in Hollywood would kill for.

  "Where would you like to go?" I asked.

  "Well, I am new to Sydney, somewhere nice, where we can spend a little time getting acquainted and even discuss the case," she said, with a very cute whiff of a smile.

  "I know just the place?and it's not too expensive, either," I said, and could see some relief in her face. I guessed the Feds didn't pay much more that the State did. "Come with me, we'll take my car," I said and led her down to the car park.

  "Oh! My God! A '55 Eldorado, my favourite car!" She exclaimed bringing her hands to her mouth, looking at me and then looking at my car and back again a couple more times. She walked all around Doris and inspected every inch. She even asked to see under the bonnet, which I was pleased to do. As a rule, I am not a tidy person, my office, my flat all suffer from my lack of domestication.But, my car is always spotless?everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Again, she exclaimed delight when I lifted the bonnet and showed her Doris's private parts, resplendent in chrome and polished to a high sheen.

  "A car like this MUST have a name," she said, still excited, from just looking at her.

  "Sonia meet Doris" I said with a flourish, "Doris meet Sonia." I finished the silly introduction. And then an inspiration hit me, it must have come from a Guardian Angel, I added, "why don't you drive?"

  "But I couldn't?" She answered too quickly; I knew that, just at that moment, she wanted to drive Doris more than anything in the world.

  "Of course you can. Doris will love it, and I can be navigator," I assured her.

  If she treated Doris well?why, I was sure going to marry this girl!

  Sonia eased Doris out of her parking place with the confidence and ability of a competent driver. I directed her to a small Italian restaurant; about twenty minutes drive from Police Headquarters. Sonia proved herself a very competent driver, I did not expect anything else - she was a cop, after all. She drove: not too slow and not too fast, with confidence and that sixth sense that told her when the other drivers are about to do something really stupid. She reversed parked Doris in one go with a few centimetres to spare in front and behind and from the curb.

  "You drive very well," I commented, impressed.

  "Thank you," she answered, not needing to lapse into false humility.

  During the meal, we mostly talked about ourselves, and as the meal progressed, our conversation evolved into a more intimate level, not sexual, just closer. I noticed two things: one was that she was more beautiful than I had realized and two that the feeling of attraction was becoming mutual. As a cop, I rely a lot, on how people behave, their body language, little gestures, and I could tell? that she was beginning to like me. Small transitory touches of my arm and then exploratory touches of our feet seem to bloom out of nowhere into something meaningful and exciting. She, a cop and a woman to boot, knew all this well before me, but did not hold back.

  At one point she stopped what she was saying and looked at me, her pupils dilated her big blue eyes serious, "this is happening too fast, Louie?it's never happened to me. I? I don't think we should? we have to work together...it would be ...un- unprofessional?" She stammered and then I kissed her.

  Not long after we were in my flat and in bed. The lovemaking was wild and hungry. We assaulted each other with a force that only animal instinct can provide, we made lust twice without a break, breathing hard like two animals, then we made love and that took the rest of the day and most of the night.

  I was first to re-surface, in the early morning, from the short nap we had succumbed into from sheer exhaustion. She was nestled in the crook of my arm, she was naked and small beads of per
spiration still dotted her beautiful olive skin like so many small pearls. I took my time looking at her whole body. She was perfect, perfect for me. Her features were delicate from her shapely feet to her thin but strong hands. Her body reflected a healthy exercise regimen without undue muscle build-up. Her face had a lot more to say than just, mere beauty. It had character, sensitivity and intelligence.

  Feeling my scrutiny, and my mounting arousal, she stirred awake, and then she moved quickly away.

  "Keep that evil thing away from me," she joked, "it will take me a week to recover."

  "A week?" I croaked, alarmed.

  "Well, maybe not a week, but at least a night," she said, firmly. Then she got up and without false modesty made her way to my minute shower.

  Being a sneaky older man, I joined her in there, and we did not get out till the water ran cold. I was glad that I had proven her wrong? she didn't need a night to recover.

  While she was drying her hair I called Sergio's and ordered a breakfast for two, to his great delight as it did not happen often. When he brought it up, he had outdone himself, he added freshly squeezed orange juice, fresh fruit, some delicious pastries and a rose in a crystal vase - what romantics Italians are, and I should know.

  He was even more delighted and excited when she came out from the bathroom looking like a million dollars in just one of my T-shirts and panties. By damn, he even blushed! She was very pleased with the breakfast he had so kindly put together just for her.We ate on my small balcony and admired the harbour coming alive for the new day.

  When Sonia finally got us back to the office, the first person I ran into was my partner, Steve. He looked up and at first, he did not notice Sonia standing behind me, "Who is this bitch?" He started to say and then Sonia made herself visible and he stopped in his tracks and blushed in embarrassment.

  He started to apologise, but then he took a closer look at her and then a closer look at me. Sometimes, Steve is too quick for his own good. He shook his head in mock desperation and muttered "Oh boy! My, my?you two idiots?if Pollard hears about this there will be hell on earth two seconds after." Then he smiled and extended his hand to Sonia, "Pleased to meet you, I am Steve, this loaf's partner. If he likes you ?you must be Okay. Welcome to Pollard's kingdom."

  "Hi, Steve, I am Sonia," she shook his hand and then added, "Louie has told me a lot about you, I am sorry to borrow him for a few days."

  "I am sure he is not sorry, judging by that smirk on his face, the like I have not seen in years," he said smiling and nodding in my direction, "Keep him working hard and he might leave you alone at nights." He advised. We all laughed when out of the blue she said, "sit down Louie you need your rest, please."

  The 'few days' turned into weeks and then into months - Mr. Sin proved himself to be a lot more slippery than we had first supposed. Under other circumstances, it would have been an onerous and taxing assignment, but with Sonia working beside me during the day and sleeping beside me at night, it was great. We soon regarded ourselves as a married couple in spirit - we agreed that the piece of paper would follow at the end of the case. My family loved her at once and it was a real effort extracting her from their clutches every time we visited. We worked hard and loved harder. She was an astute and determined investigator and we were slowly but surely building a rock hard case against Mr. Sin.

  And then, then the threats started.

  At first it was phone calls, then emails, we ignored them all and I should have known better. One day, one horrible day, she went out to get us lunch and she wasn't back in half an hour, she wasn't back in an hour, she never returned. The whole department was immobilized and we searched for her that very same day, all day. We found several witnesses that recognized her photo and described seeing her being escorted by a large man in a suit into a waiting limousine. Sometime later, we found the limousine, abandoned, it had been stolen?of Sonia no trace, except a very slight lingering of her perfume.

  An email arrived one night addressed to me personally. It was simple and direct:

  "Lose all the evidence or lose the bitch."

  That's all. I went back to the office and after making copies of our working file, I put the all the originals through the paper shredder. All the evidence we had spent months assembling, was now gone, gone forever.

  I rushed home with my copy of the file, and typed a reply to that email.

  "It's all shredded, please release Sonia"

  For three whole days, I did not hear anything.

  I was suspended from duty for destroying evidence.

  I did not care.

  I was sent home, pending further investigation; charges would be brought against me.

  I did not care.

  I was advised to seek legal help.

  I ignored them.

  I waited at the computer monitor, waited for the email telling me that Sonia was released.

  It never came.

  I did not sleep for three days and nights and then Steve came to see me.He knocked at my door. I opened the door, hoping against all logic that it was Sonia.

  It wasn't.

  It only took one look at Steve's face and I knew.

  I knew that the worst thing in my life had happened.

  My knees just collapsed from under me and I hit the floor, my mind was blank; absolutely blank. To think of anything would have been too painful. Later, much later I understood how some people just become comatose when the news they get is just too much for them to handle.

  But, Steve snapped me out of it. He forced straight Bourbon down my throat, it made me choke and then I vomited my thanks all over his shoes. He did not flinch one bit, but helped me up and took me to the couch and got me to drink the rest.

  "I want to see her," I said, jumping up and almost falling down again from vertigo.

  "No, you don't, mate. You really don't," he said softly. But he looked at me and he knew that there wasn't going to be a discussion - we were going to see her, and we were going now.

  "Come on," was all he said, I followed him like a zombie.

  Her body had been recovered just that morning; she had been shot three times in the head. The M.E. had worked out that her body must have been in Sydney Harbour for at least two if not three days.Mr. Sin, had never intended releasing her at all, he had her shoot almost as soon as he got his filthy hands on her. I stared at her body for a long time; I never wanted to forget what had been done to her. Never wanted to forget that they had turned a thing of beauty and intelligence, of humour and happiness, into a thing of horror.

  I got Steve to drop me back at my place. He was going to stay with me, but I asked him to leave me ?I needed to be alone. He nodded and understood that I needed to be alone to mourn my loss. I knew that I needed to be alone to plan what I was going to do.

  From the bottom of my kitchen cupboard, I recovered the copies I had made of our working file. In it were the names and the addresses of the five men and one woman involved in that syndicate of corruption. I placed it on the kitchen table; I eyed the bottle of Bourbon and poured myself a long drink. I made a list - it had six names with six addresses on it. Then I cleaned an untraceable gun I had acquired during a previous case, loaded it and locked the safety. I put on black jeans, black T-shirt. I painted my sneakers black. I pocketed a pair of black gloves and a black balaclava. I was ready. I sat down and immobile. Like a switched off computer I sat and I waited for the night.

  At 12.30 am, after Sergio had closed for the night, I eased myself down the stairs and melted into the night. I stole a car form a local car park and drove to the first address on my list. It was easy to enter his house, find his bedroom and grab him by the throat while his wife still slept. I dragged him all the way to the stolen car and put him in the boot. I then drove to an empty warehouse. I did not speak to him once. I did not answer his questions, but when I showed him a recent photo of Sonia he shut up and his colour changed from the red of anger to the waxy-white of fear. I shot him once in each knee an
d I watched his pain mix and melt with mine for ten minutes, then I shot him twice in the head.

  I then repeated the same procedure another four times that night. One of them was a woman, a renowned madam who trafficked in women from Asia. It did not matter to me; her name was on my list. And then her name had a line through it.

  Only Mr. Sin was left, the worst for last.

  I knew that he would be the hardest to get to. He would have bodyguards and security systems all over the place. But it had to be done on the same night or he would catch on and disappear. The police, my colleagues, would also catch on very quickly and would no doubt lock me up. I needed Steve's help; I knew he would be there for me. I called him,

  "It's me," I said.

  "I know. How are you feeling?" He said concern in his voice.

  "I need for you to call in an attempted break-in at this address and send a patrol car to it," I said, and gave him the address. He was quiet for a long time. I said nothing more.

  Finally, he said, "when?"

  "In half an hour," I said.

  "You need company?" My faithful friend asked, ready to throw his career and possibly his freedom away for my sake.

  "No, I'll be Okay, thanks Steve." I said in a monotone, I had no emotions of any kind left in me, not even hate. I felt nothing. I was nothing.

  "Take care, Louie I could not stand to lose another friend," he said and hung up.

  I waited outside Mr. Sin's house for the patrol car to arrive and be admitted to the estate. The security perimeter had to close down for the car to enter the estate. I took the opportunity to scale the wall. I ignored the cuts from the shards of glass embedded on top of the wall. All that mattered to me was that I was inside the estate. Not long after that, I was inside Mr. Sin's house. When the police left, I made my way to his bedroom. I found him on the john. Before he could cry out, I shoved my Glock into his mouth.

  "Not one sound," I said and pulled him to his feet using a handful of his hair and then I motioned for him to pull up his trousers. We marched down to his garage. I put him in the back of one of his cars, a black Nissan 4WD. I taped his mouth and taped his legs and arms and covered him with a blanket I found in the car. The car windows were all tinted black, it was going to be very hard for the people at the gate to see inside the car and there was no reason for them to suspect that the driver was not Mr. Sin himself.

  I drove toward the gate and did not even slow down, they rushed to open it for their "boss" in all haste. I drove around the corner and retrieved from the stolen car a few essential items, including a large can of petrol and a full canteen. Then I drove west all the rest of the night and the following day, nonstop. I stopped to fill up the tank from the extra jerry can I brought with me, which I then tossed into the bush, littering was the least of my worries.

  By midday of the next day, we were right in the middle of desert country. I drove off-road making full use of the 4WD for a few miles until I found a good spot. I stopped and got out, and stretched. We had been driving in the desert for a couple of hours. By now, the temperature was getting to be pretty uncomfortable - it could have melted lead.

  When I opened the back door, Mr. Sin struggled and moaned. I took a knife from my pocket and I saw his eyes panic. I did not react, but just cut away all the tape from his legs and arms and from his mouth. All the while, he gasped like a fish out of water, breathing hard.

  "What the fuck do you want, pig?" He demanded once he had caught his breath, "you will get nothing from me, pig" he added, confident in his infallibility.

  "There is nothing I want from you," I told him and shot him in one knee. He screamed from the surprise and then from the pain and went down on his arse.

  "You can't do this?you are a cop," he said between groans of pain.

  "Cop no more," I said, and shot his other knee. He screamed even louder.

  "Please stop?please. We did not mean to kill her but she struggled and tried to escape?" He said as if this justified his actions. I shot one of his elbows. He collapsed into the red desert dust, screaming in pain.While he lay there squirming in the dust, I fetched the canteen I had prepared and walked about a hundred paces away from him.On the way back, about halfway, I wiped clean the gun I had used and placed on the ground.

  He sensed my return and he lifted his face with red dust sticking to it like the makeup on a demented old lady. I looked down at him and pointed to where I had placed the canteen, "Over there is the only water for a thousand kilometres and soon, very soon, you are going to need a drink really badly. If you want to live, you will have to drag yourself to it. It will be very painful with your joints shot up like that. But if you can withstand the pain, like I have had to bear the pain of your actions, you might survive until night, and then, who knows? Tomorrow, someone on walkabout might even find you, maybe not. Half way there, you will find the gun; you may choose a quick, painless death. But you must consider this: can you really be sure that the canteen is not full of battery acid? Good bye Mr. Sin" I said and got into his car.

  "Don't leave me, come back ? please...come BAAACK!" His screams followed me all the way back to Sydney. I abandoned his car at the warehouse where I had left the bodies of his partners in crime. I then I walked to a train station and returned to the city, I did not bother to buy a ticket. Soon I was back in the emptiness that was my flat. I collapsed onto my bed I wanted so much to cry, to cry until I was empty of all fluids in me, but instead I passed out.

  But I did not sleep long. Steve arrived and with his spare key, he got into my flat, dragged me in a semiconscious state to his car and drove straight to my parent's house.When he got there. My dad and Pip helped him to carry me to my old bedroom. Once in bed Steve told them that if anyone was to ask, especially anyone from the Police, they were to tell them that I had been there in that room for more than four days, and that one of them had been by my bedside at all times. They understood and did not ask the questions, which Steve could not have answered. I slept for the next three days straight, aided and abetted by my brother the GP, and his plethora of pharmaceuticals.

  When I awoke I saw the worried face of my father first, and then Mum and my six brothers. All of them standing around my bed, concern painted on their faces as if with the one brush.

  "How are you feeling, son?" Asked my father with his smooth and pleasant voice.

  "I don't know Pops?I don't think I have felt worse in my life," I said my voice cracking with emotion.

  "You will be fine in a while son, meanwhile we are here for you, you will be fine?time cures everything?you'll see," he reassured me, while combing my hair away from my eyes with his big hand, as he had done many times before. I guess that in his eyes I was still his youngest boy.

  The 'little while' turned out to be a few months, but slowly I came back to be a sort of facsimile of a human being again. Steve visited me, almost on a daily basis, and that helped a lot. He kept me up to date with things in general, and his good humour was always infectious. My brothers made sure I was kept entertained at all times. Mum's cooking and her patience were the miracle drugs that Science will never emulate.

  Steve told me that after weeks of fruitless investigation the killer or killers of Mr. Sin's syndicate were never identified and the whole thing was put down to example gang warfare. It was two months before the body of Mr. Sin himself was found. It had become mummified by the heat and dryness. He was found, by a wondering Aborigine, lying not far from the empty canteen. He had shot himself. Ballistic analysis proved that the same gun had been used to kill all his partners in crime, the police were puzzled. They now guessed that he had killed them all and then?then what? Did he suffer remorse and killed himself? But why in the desert? Why shoot himself in the knees and one elbow first? They finally put it down to insanity.

  But I knew and Steve knew. I guessed that the pain, the sun, the scalding sand had proven too much for Mr. Sin, especially if he suspected that I had pulled a dirty trick and filled the canteen with battery acid or someth
ing similar. The canteen had contained pure water, but he judged me from his own standards, and took the 'easy' way out.

  Months later, when I returned to my flat I found it spotlessly clean; Sergio and his girls had looked after it for me. They were there to welcome me home when Steve drove me back. We had a couple of beers and then he was due to go to work, but before he left he said, "Iceberg Pollard wants to see you first thing tomorrow," he then smiled and added, "will I tell him to get stuffed?"

  "No, don't worry I'll come in and get it over and done with? it has to be done, might as well be sooner than later," I said, looking at the view from my balcony, remembering that the last time I had enjoyed it, it had been with Sonia beside me.

  True to my word, I dragged myself into headquarters the next morning and was in Pollard's office by eight o'clock.

  "How are you feeling, my boy," he said with more kindness and understanding that I would have ever believed possible for him.

  "Fine Sir, thank you," I lied.

  "You were always a poor liar, Louie, that's one of the things I liked about you. I will be very sorry to see you go, Louie," he said.

  "Yes Sir," I said.

  "The Crown has decided not to proceed with charges against you. But has asked for your immediate dismissal, I am very sorry, Louie," he said and he meant it.

  "I am sorry too, Sir" I said, but I am not sure I meant it, probably not.

  "All of us here know what went down Louie," he said, looking at me intently but not coldly.

  "Yes Sir," I said, "thank you, Sir" I added as an afterthought.

  "Don't thank me, son. I am just grateful that whoever committed those killings did not leave their flat footprints all over the place," he said a hint of a smile on his stern features.

  "Yes sir," I said.

  "No charges, Louie, means that if in the future you want to go into private work, the Crown will have no objection and I will personally endorse your application," he said.

  "Thank you Sir, that's very kind of you Sir," I said.

  "Don't thank me, son. You have earned my respect and the respect of all those that know you," he said

  "Thank you very much, Sir," I said. He then stood up and for the first time since I had met him years ago, he leaned over his desk and offered his hand, I shook it firmly. I noticed that his eyes had suddenly become very shiny, I looked away quickly.

  "Take care, son," he said and with my last "Thank you, Sir" I walked out of his office. I never saw him again, a few months later he ate his own bullet, after he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. A tough, proud character - there was no way he would put himself or his family through the embarrassment of a prolonged, terminal illness.

  Sonia is never far out of my mind, the vacuum she left in my life, even though she was part of it for just a short time, will never be filled. With Steve's help and the help of my beautiful family, I came back stronger each day. When I opened my small agency it was a relief to be doing some police type work again.

  When Maria walked into my life, I began to feel that maybe, just maybe, life might be worth living after all.

 

 

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