Knockout! A Passionate Police Romance (8 page)

His voice was London British. She quickly surveyed him - thirty-ish, quick nervous movements. If it came to a fight she could eat him. She relaxed a little. She was a detective and something about this little grungy geeky guy came across to her.

“So - you’re press or a private detective right?

“Hey - respect Inspector,” replied the little guy with a grin, “Fly Fisher - I reel ‘em in.”

“What kinda line is that?” She answered with a laugh at her own pun. He nodded an approval of her wit and smiled broadly.

“Okay - that’s my column, I’m Pete Making. I’m a reporter on Fan-Tale magazine. I guess you’ve not heard of us...”

“Right!” She said her mind racing through all possible angles.

“I wanna talk about Freddie La Salle, murder and global match fixing by criminals. Am I getting through?” He asked simply fixing her with keen smiling eyes.

“You got through,” she replied opening the door. “Any nonsense and you’re on the way to jail.”

She got them both a coffee. This odd little reporter smiled and filled her in.

“Sport - ya know - it’s only the mugs who think it’s a game. But gambling ain’t even a game - if it was the winners would all be crooks. I’m an investigative journalist. This fight with Brennan is fixed. Your Freddie hasn’t even put on a glove for training. Either you’re on the case or you’re being hoodwinked.”

“Okay - but first tell me how you found me.”

“I followed you from the restaurant last night. I got a tip from a couple of paps who freelance for us that Freddie was out on the town with a pretty special girl. ”

Anna frowned with indignation but let it ride in view of the compliment.

“I followed you here from Freddie’s restaurant. I saw you clinching on Westminster Bridge. The lady in the salon downstairs whispered to me you were a cop when I told her I was delivering a special bouquet and I had to find you before they wilted.”

“You should be a cop.”

“Huh - I’m too damn small Anna.”

She thought quickly. Probably he didn’t know she was on the match fixing operation. He had followed her and got lucky when he learned she was a cop.

“So - you tell me what’s going on. The crooks want Freddie to lose the fight I guess cos their money is on Brennan. If Freddie doesn’t train then he’s gonna lose. So, the odds will be on the other guy to win so the mob gets less money. Surely they want it to look like Freddie will win and sting all the punters who back him.” She said, aware that this was the first time she had really thought about the facts.

The weedy guy nodded and looked at her keenly.

“There’s a factor X somewhere in Freddie’s life Anna. Something out of place. I wanna know if he’s in on the deal or if he’s on some kinda mission. He’s not hiding... maybe that’s part of the plan. You must remember that the crooks can play the bookie and punter on the internet. The important thing for them is to know the result. My guess... and it’s only a guess, is that Freddie is playing them along. At his last fight they thought it was enough to fix the ref. Everyone in the game knows that Freddie wins on points. This time they won’t risk that...”

“And if Brennan wins he’s hot property as their champ and great white hope all in one.” Said Anna.

“You got it... He’s a rough house brawler. That’s real box office.”

“So what’s Freddie up to?”

“You tell me Anna. Word is he’s out of shape. Freddie is a distance man. He can’t reckon on a short fight with a knock down. He just hasn’t got that type of punching power... he’s not a vicious guy Anna. If he stands against Brennan without training he’s gonna get badly hurt.” Said the reporter with a dispassionate expertise.

“In your view - would they kill Freddie?”

“Too right they would. He knows what happened in Marseille and what happened to the ref. They’ll kill anyone in the way. That means you. That means me.”

Anna nodded. There were so many risks to weigh up.

“And this factor X... ” She began.

“The guy is a mystery to me Anna. I’m impartial but I’m a real fan but I’ve never seen him open up and go for an opponent, not even when he’s hurt. No show boat stuff... just a day at the office. He doesn’t do trash.”

She thought deeply. Obviously he was on the trail. She could not risk her association with Freddie being known to Scotland Yard at this stage and she could never risk it being known to whoever killed that referee.

“Look - there are problems here for both of us,” she began, “let’s keep this between ourselves. To be honest I know nothing of this. Freddie is a boyfriend - he has no idea I’m a cop and if you tell him - I’ve got ways of fixing you up... if you get my meaning Pete?” She half snarled, wanting to be sure that she conveyed a meaningful threat. This little geek could get her killed.

“Anna - Inspector - it will be our secret. I’ve heard there’s a squad on the job. I’ll leave it to you to make contact. I’ll share what I know in return for the inside story on La Salle - that’s all I want.”

“I’ll do my best. There’s twenty six thousand officers in the Met Police. It’ll take me a while to get a source. In the meantime give me something you couldn’t just know from the papers.”

“I’ll give you a name,” he began nervously - “ MauroTondelli - he killed that referee. Tortured him first then strangled him with his bare hands. Threw the body in the river.”

Anna nodded. She could check this out.

“Give me a card Pete... I’ll call you.”

The little guy shook his head.

“No cards Inspector. Who knows whose hands you could fall into? Get your cell phone and dial the number I give you. That way we know each other. Don’t put any tag on that number. I’ll do the same.”

This guy was no mug. She dialed the number he gave her. She heard the phone ring in his pocket.

“Stay in touch Anna - feel free to call me. I’ll trust you to contact me.”

With that he stood up, offered a surprisingly firm handshake and headed for the door.

She sat down wearily and considered her options. This case was heating up. And just what was the factor X in Freddie’s life?

A few hours later she arrived at Judy’s rambling old three storey town house near Hammersmith Broadway. She had to talk to someone or she would burst. Perhaps she needed someone to calm her down and get her back on the rails. She also needed an action plan for the week ahead, best discussed away from the office. Judy had been delighted with the chance of a girlie chat.

“Fizzio-therapy” she announced as she plonked down two bottles of sparkling Pinot Grigio.

Judy held her son Zak in her arms in the centre of the toy strewn lounge. The three year old Mia ran to Anna exclaiming over and over “

There’s Nobolins in the forest. Nobolins! Nobolins!”

“Nobolins?” Anna repeated.

“Goblins.” Laughed Judy.

Anna sat down while Mia presented the evidence for Nobolins in the shape of a big story book.

“You’re a natural.” Commented Judy.

Anna thought seriously for a few seconds. Sure she was off the pill but just at the start of her cycle. She knew that as a boxer Freddie would be checked out but she was living dangerously for sure. Just now there were other problems.

She watched her friend mothering the children, unable to reconcile the picture with the tough demon driver cop from their days at Brixton. Once the kids were in bed they opened the wine and Anna opened her heart.

“Plan A is a transfer to the underwater search squad, a check at the clinic and a morning after pill” Announced Judy when she had finished.

Anna laughed “Is there a plan B?”

“Plan B is to get you to France next week for a bang on the boat. We do not tell Beaumont that you are shagging the suspect and are so loved up that your knees don’t work.”

“Loved up - is it obvious?”

“Yeah - like a big zit on your nose baby!”

Anna smiled at Judy’s wonderful way with words. Her friend continued.

“So - Monday morning conference I’ll get a keen young detective from Criminal Intelligence to bring up the story from Interpol about Freddie boy. It’s best if I don’t look involved cos you’re the witch and I’m the cat as far as our dear commander is concerned. Then you can jump in saying - “What a coincidence... this guy is a client of my father and he’s gonna be in the South of France. Then you offer to pop down and check him out.”

“It’s risky, but I’ll go for it - we never worried about risks in the past did we?”

“We were dumb street cops Anna, just kids - shall we open the other bottle?” Judy laughed, - “but I’ll tell you one thing - that Beaumont Locke is a real premiership slime bag.”

“Destined for commissioner.” Added Anna.

“Commissioner?” Echoed Brian’s voice swerving through the toys in his uniform and stab vest, “it’s a kind offer but I’m busy.”

“Good shift?” Asked Judy, kissing her husband’s balding head.

“I’m still alive, no one else died.” He answered wearily.

Anna smiled. She liked Brian and would have trusted him with anything. He was going nowhere in the police but he was worth ten of Commander Locke.

“Brian -you know of Freddie La Salle?” Prompted Judy.

“Sure - he’s a legend. He’s about to fight Brennan in New York. Rather him than me. Brennan is great white hope and great white shark all in one. Never been defeated, never gone the distance. Fearsome puncher - know what I mean like a psycho savage? La Salle is a gent - goes in there to beat the guy, not beat him up.”

“So who will win?” Asked Anna anxiously.

“La Salle has the class. He always goes the distance, never throws the big punches. If the ref lets Brennan fight the whole match with his head in Freddie’s face then I think La Salle will get nailed. Brennan is the home town boy. La Salle must need the cash - this fight is huge box office.”

Anna winced at the thought of Freddie unconscious on the floor with the crowd baying for his blood. He didn’t seem to need the money.

“What’s this fight worth to the winner?” She asked.

“Prize money - perhaps a million dollars. TV and the rest about 20 million.”

“I might be tempted myself.” Commented Anna.

“Not if you’d seen Brennan in full psycho attack.”Pete chuckled.

“Never mind - you are only risking your career, your health and the trust of your family Anna.” Said Judy concernedly.

Anna nodded. “I know - and it’s fantastic.”

Once back to her flat she lay gratefully in bed. Loneliness ached inside that only one man could soothe. Her mobile was ringing and she fumbled to find it.

“Anna?”

She almost kissed the phone. It was him!

“I had to call - it’s late cherie - I’m sorry.”

“No - don’t be sorry…”

“I was thinking of you - you know, how it was last night.”

She thought of his face, his big strong hand holding the phone.

“Me too - how’s Paris?”

“Oh - I had to do that TV show - just a dumb interview about boxing. I’m at home now, looking out of the window onto the Boulevard St Michel. My city is very beautiful too.” He purred in his soft French accent.

“Freddie - I wish... ”

“I wish it too ma belle - how I wish... ”

“If only I could kiss you - if only I could hold you.” She almost cried with frustration.

“Our time will come - once this whole business is over I’ll be free.”

“What business?”

“The fight and all the stuff that goes with it.” He sighed wearily. “I want another life now but I have to focus in.”

“I was thinking... you know perhaps you could get injured in training or something like that...”

He chuckled. “Yes - you are thinking like a woman who wants to keep her baby at home on the first day at school. There is more to this show than a sweet girl can imagine. It’s not like the boat business mon amour.”

She swallowed a surge of anger. She didn’t sell bloody boats! She knew more of this tough world that he could imagine. How she longed to open her own heart, but since she had lied to him she could hardly blame him for believing her... But what was it he had called her? Mon amour?

“Mon amour? Mon amour?” She echoed back at him.

“OK - that slipped out, it’s a lovely word. I was not expecting you in my life right now - or ever I guess.” He said in a slow husky voice.

“I understand... I feel... it is all so fast,” she began, battling with her raging emotions of desire and frustration. “Can I meet you in Antibes on Thursday afternoon? I’ll call you as soon as I have all the details.”

“I’ll pick you up from the airport in Nice.”

“There’s no need...”

“There’s every need Anna - every need in the whole world. In a few days I fly to the States for training camp - I might as well be going to the moon. I mean Anna... Anna, it is so good to say your name - couldn’t you come to Paris?”