Ray is there, looking worried.The rest of the office has picked up the gossip when Abigail arrives. Brian and the other Brian leer at her over their desks, but say nothing. She goes to her office to find Pascal and another man waiting behind her desk.
'Close the door.' says the man. He is Detective Superintendent Moyles and he is very unhappy. It seems that Pascal is actually an undercover French police officer and the web cam is part of an operation to close down a large drug-running concern with interests in most of Western Europe. It was not hard to find her apparently. After she scrawled the crude image on Pascal's garden gate, he contacted his Interpol handler, who contacted Detective Superintendent Moyles. A street camera picked her up leaving the alley behind the Frenchman's house and another picked her up as she returned to her pool car. A PNC check revealed the car was registered with the local tax office and Pascal remembered the interview about the tax discrepancy with the intense, slightly nervous woman.
Abigail says nothing as the detective explains all this, but contents herself to stare at Pascal. The Frenchman returns her stare, until finally she cannot listen to any more.
'I saw him masturbating, he was watching me on web cam footage. I want to make a complaint.'
Detective Superintendent Moyles turns to the Frenchman.
'Is this true?'
The Frenchman nods, 'Well, it was a very sexy dance.'
Detective Superintendent Moyles mouths swear words silently and rolls his eyes to the ceiling.
He counts to five, then looks at Abigail, 'We are close to arresting a large number of very nasty people, in several countries. If you report this, I will make sure your very, very extra-curricular activities with regards my colleague here are reported to your superiors. I understand your immediate boss has had a heart attack under suspicious circumstances. I'm sure my report would not help your promotion prospects any, so stop fucking me about and I'll stop fucking you about and everyone will be happy, okay?'
Abigail manages a nod.
As he stands up to leave, his phone rings. For a moment he listens, Abigail cannot hear what is said, but Detective Superintendent Moyles is not happy at the news.
'An ironing board? They think? Where was the other one?' A pause while he listens, looking down at Pascal. Pascal is still watching Abigail.
'Burned to death with a broken neck, well I think we can rule out suicide. Fuck.' He turns to Abigail.
'We are very, very done here. I'm going to assume we have an understanding and we can all get on with our lives' He nudges Pascal in the shoulder. 'Come on, Asterix.' He walks out.
As Pascal gets up, he carefully puts a package on the desk.
'For you.' He says. His hand lingers on the package for a moment before he follows Detective Superintendent Moyles out, closing the door behind him.
When they have left, Abigail opens the bag. The rubber smell hits her nostrils before she slides it out of it's wrapper.
It is a gorilla mask.
('Close the door.' says the man. He is Detective Superintendent Moyles and he is very unhappy. It seems that Pascal is actually an undercover French police officer and the web cam is part of an operation to close down a large drug-running concern with interests in most of Western Europe. It was not hard to find her apparently. After she scrawled the crude image on Pascal's garden gate, he contacted his Interpol handler, who contacted Detective Superintendent Moyles. A street camera picked her up leaving the alley behind the Frenchman's house and another picked her up as she returned to her pool car. A PNC check revealed the car was registered with the local tax office and Pascal remembered the interview about the tax discrepancy with the intense, slightly nervous woman.
Abigail says nothing as the detective explains all this, but contents herself to stare at Pascal. The Frenchman returns her stare, until finally she cannot listen to any more.
'I saw him masturbating, he was watching me on web cam footage. I want to make a complaint.'
Detective Superintendent Moyles turns to the Frenchman.
'Is this true?'
The Frenchman nods, 'Well, it was a very sexy dance.'
Detective Superintendent Moyles mouths swear words silently and rolls his eyes to the ceiling.
He counts to five, then looks at Abigail, 'We are close to arresting a large number of very nasty people, in several countries. If you report this, I will make sure your very, very extra-curricular activities with regards my colleague here are reported to your superiors. I understand your immediate boss has had a heart attack under suspicious circumstances. I'm sure my report would not help your promotion prospects any, so stop fucking me about and I'll stop fucking you about and everyone will be happy, okay?'
Abigail manages a nod.
As he stands up to leave, his phone rings. For a moment he listens, Abigail cannot hear what is said, but Detective Superintendent Moyles is not happy at the news.
'An ironing board? They think? Where was the other one?' A pause while he listens, looking down at Pascal. Pascal is still watching Abigail.
'Burned to death with a broken neck, well I think we can rule out suicide. Fuck.' He turns to Abigail.
'We are very, very done here. I'm going to assume we have an understanding and we can all get on with our lives' He nudges Pascal in the shoulder. 'Come on, Asterix.' He walks out.
As Pascal gets up, he carefully puts a package on the desk.
'For you.' He says. His hand lingers on the package for a moment before he follows Detective Superintendent Moyles out, closing the door behind him.
When they have left, Abigail opens the bag. The rubber smell hits her nostrils before she slides it out of it's wrapper.
It is a gorilla mask.
Smallbrainfield,
Thu 19 Apr 2012, 16:10,
archived)
Bon, mon brave. Bon.
Colonel Boris "...a desperate Buzzfeed imitation...",
Thu 19 Apr 2012, 16:15,
archived)
The two Brians amuse me
Wasp Box like a nervous random stranger at a glory hole,
Thu 19 Apr 2012, 16:17,
archived)
