Mike’s forest green Subaru WRX ate up the motorway from Ellerslie through the city and over the Harbour Bridge.
The Waitemata harbour was sparkling below, a few sails out as rich city-types made the most of a decent day in their yachts, designer sweaters slung nonchalantly over the shoulders of their designer polo shirts while designer wives lounged nearby and planned their next shopping expeditions.
Mike crossed the border into the Shore and felt instantly whiter and happier. It was a clean city where even the slums were more expensive than most places further south. It was a place where rich kids threw bottles at the cops and cried foul when they received a swish in return. A place where everybody knew a judge or a CEO of a multi-national. It was a place where sordid secrets lurked behind the veneer of European cars and health clubs, and it wasn’t the done thing to admit having been an exotic dancer, dahling.
Stacey Burns had told Mike she was off to the gym for a good workout before heading off to a job, and Mike soon pulled into the car park of the fitness centre in central Takapuna.
He found a park amongst the late model saloons and Remuera tractors and got out. He couldn’t see Stacey’s Jag anywhere, so scouted out to the street and a neighbouring car park. Still nothing. He got back behind the wheel and waited. Years in the Army had taught him to be good at waiting, and he waited a long time.
Eventually he grabbed his own gym bag from the back seat. He walked in to the reception desk, where a bouncy young blonde girl in a fitted Lycra top smiled at him. She looked as happy and innocent as a Labrador puppy with a stick. Her name tag said Sascha.
‘How’s it going there, are you having a good day?’ she said brightly.
Mike grinned happily. ‘Just great thanks, how are you...Sascha?’
‘I’m fi-iine,’ she chirped.
‘I just wanted to see if my friend has already arrived,’ Mike told her, ‘she was supposed to wait for me but I think she might be getting a head start.’
‘You’re not a member?’ If it bothered her she didn’t show it. Maybe nothing could break that happy smile.
‘No, not yet.’ He grinned again. ‘Stacey said she’d get me in, reckons it’s the best gym on the Shore.’
Sascha giggled and flicked her ponytail. ‘Wow, that’s so generous.’ She turned to her desktop. ‘What’s your friend’s name? I’ll just if she’s swiped in.’
Mike told her, and waited a nanosecond. A frown crossed Sascha’s unwrinkled forehead. She managed to make confused look cute.
‘I’m so sorry, she’s not showing up here.’
She double checked the spelling, then asked Mike for her mobile number. He read it off his phone and she frowned a bit more. He noticed she had a dusting of light freckles across her upturned nose. He wondered if she had a boyfriend, and if she was into older guys.
‘Wow that’s really strange,’ Sascha said, looking up at him with wide green eyes. ‘Are you sure it was us? I mean, our gym?’
It was Mike’s turn to look confused. ‘I’m sure that’s what she said. I must’ve misheard her.’ He gave her perplexed, which wasn’t too far from the truth. ‘I’ll give her a buzz.’
He left Sascha and her cute nose to be happy and went back to his car. No matter which way he looked at it, things were not adding up.
Alan Olsen had been a cop for a few short years before irreparably damaging his spine in a car wreck while chasing a stolen Subaru through South Auckland. He had left on medical grounds and ultimately ended up as a fraud investigator for one of the major telecommunication companies.
These days he spent his time trying to plug holes to prevent losses to the company from both external crooks and shonky staff. When his phone rang and he saw Dan Crowley’s number appear on the screen, Olsen groaned. He knew it was going to be a dodgy request for information-yet another in a long line of such requests. Some he had entertained, some he hadn’t.
‘What is it now, Dan?’ he said, adjusting his ear bud. He was in the middle of a report about an employee who had been caught stealing handsets and on-selling them, but he stopped typing to listen. Despite his initial reaction, Dan was a good man and had helped him out before too. In fact, it was Dan and a couple of cronies who had visited him in hospital after the crash. They’d wheeled him outside, given him a beer and a smoke and left him there when a nurse came along. They’d run away giggling like schoolgirls while he faced the wrath of a tiny Filipino nurse.
‘Yeah I’m good thanks buddy, how’re you?’ Dan replied breezily.
Olsen grinned to himself. ‘So my question stands; what is it now? You obviously want something.’
‘That’s what I love about you, Ollie,’ Dan told him, ‘your lovely nature. Such a caring soul.’
Olsen chuckled and pushed back from his desk, casting a quick eye around to see if he was being watched. The whole floor was open plan and ears flapped everywhere. His boss, Loretta the Witch, was due back soon. She would park her broomstick by the door and stride in, beady eyes fixed on him as if she could read his mind. Man, he hated her.
‘How’s that beautiful wife of yours?’
‘Better than I deserve mate.’
Olsen chuckled again. ‘Many people have said that, DC. Personally, I always thought you’d marry a bloke, but clearly I was wrong. Unless there’s something you want to tell me?’
Dan snorted in his ear. ‘Stop flirting with me. Idle chit chat aside, I need to track down a cell phone. I’m picking it’s a pre-pay with no subscriber details, but I need to check.’
‘Go number.’ Olsen rolled back into his desk and tapped the number in. ‘Sure is. No details held. Brand new phone though, only sold three days ago.’
‘Much usage?’ Dan asked.
‘Can’t see from this screen, I’d have to dig in. And of course,’ he grinned to himself, ‘you’d need a Production Order for that.’
‘Really?’ Dan sounded incredulous but they both knew it was put on. ‘Even for an old buddy who saved your career more times than I can remember?’
‘Especially for that guy. Just get Buck to do it for you, isn’t your unpaid sidekick?’
Olsen was referring to Sidney Buckmaster, who had been Dan’s protégé years ago. When Dan fell from grace Buck followed, ending up as the Ellerslie Community Constable. Like Olsen, he was regularly tapped for favours by Dan.
Dan snorted again. ‘Not likely. He complains every time I go near him these days.’ He was silent for a moment and Olsen waited. ‘Where was the phone sold?’
Olsen grinned, knowing where his old colleague was going. ‘Our store in Sylvia Park. 2pm, three days ago.’ He squinted at the screen. ‘Cash sale, surprisingly.’
‘Thanks Ollie. I’d like to say I owe you one, but we both know that’s an empty promise; I’ll never pay.’
Olsen grinned, his face falling suddenly as he saw the door open and Loretta the Witch sweep onto the floor. Sure enough she spotted him and made a beeline.
‘Gotta go buddy, I’m about to get thrown in a cauldron with cats tails and small children. Laters.’
Olsen disconnected and quickly went back to his report, shutting down the screen he’d been on. Loretta the Witch would disembowel him if she knew what he got up to when she wasn’t around. Man, he hated her.