Abacus

hatter.”
    “Anyway , Jesse,” Randall said, “I’m thinking we leave the big fella with the job of tracking down her whereabouts through Interpol. It is still a loose end that we need to tidy up.”
    “Yep . I agree. Hobbsy, you right with that?”
    Hobbs nodded. “Leave it with me.”

    CHAPTER 22 – INNOCENT AGENT

    Randall arrived very early the next day for good reason. He wanted to determine if there was a remote possibility that the cleaners who maintained the detectives’ office could be responsible for the black lines. He hoped that someone other than one of his own detectives was the culprit. Rounding up the non-English speaking male and female Chinese cleaning team, Randall coaxed them into the Fishbowl and sat them down.
    “You cleaners are not to clean my office again, do you understand?”
    They looked at each other totally dumbfounded. He tried to explain again in his best broken English with nonverbal gestures. “You two… no cleanie here… no more… you understand… yes?”
    Smiling and nodding the cleaners sprung to their feet madly dusting and wiping his office.
    “No, no, stop,” he called. It was no use. “Bloody hell, just keep going,” he said, shifting his chair to allow one of the cleaners to plug in the vacuum cleaner. I guess we can discount these two as our murderers unless our victims were polished to death . Randall gave them a warm smile as they fussed all around him. At that moment, he felt a vibration in his pocket. Flipping the phone open, he read the text. It’s time to meet the new bait.
    * * *
    Half an hour later, Randall sat behind the wheel of his car in a quiet parking lot. He carefully split open the envelope he had just collected from the post office box and could see it contained the background information about the new bait. He meticulously read through the document headed Deliver Live . “What the bloody hell are they thinking?” he protested. He stared out through the windscreen and shook his head slowly. “It’s just not getting easier.” The new bait was completely different to the others and would present a whole new range of challenges for him. This bait was female.
    “Tracy Hughes,” h e whispered. At the bottom of the page he looked at the passport-sized photo stapled to the corner. He saw she was a dark-haired girl about five feet six tall with a medium build. Next to the heading “Coercion” it read: Methyl amphetamine addict, has breached probation twice and stands to do four years from a previous sentence. Has a female sibling, who is due for release from prison in two years, (subject to change.)
    He held the photo up and stared at it. It was not his place to question the decisions of the Abacus, however, this time he thought they may have got it completely wrong. He felt uncomfortable about their choice and didn’t even want to think about having to terminate her. Hurting the fairer sex ran against his grain, so having a woman killed definitely pushed his moral boundaries. Leaving these thoughts aside, he focused on his role, which was to meet the bait, instil fear into the bait and set the rules for the bait. He felt a little apprehensive about using a female in such a dangerous role, but on the flip side, a female may prove to be quite credible to the targets.
    * * *
    It was now mid morning as Randall looked out onto the manicured gardens of the park with his left arm outstretched on the backrest of the timber park bench. A light breeze carried the familiar scent of freshly cut lawn. Looking straight ahead and breathing deeply to take in the aroma, he warned the new bait. “I hope we understand each other. You have breached your parole twice now, if you stuff up, you will go straight to jail and do the four years you owe society.” He paused. “And I can also tell you for certain, that your sister will not get parole when it comes up. Understand?”
    The new bait looked at her hands as she fiddled with a silver ring on her left index finger. She had lo st a lot of weight since the photo had been taken. “I understand, but, but, there is no comeback on me, is there?” she asked timidly.
    “There will be absolutely no comeback on you. As far as you are aware, you are simply on-selling a drug, that’s it. What happens beyond that is not your concern.”
    “Okay, so you will let me know when we have a job on?”
    “That’ s right,” he said, getting up and gently resting his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t forget, Tracey,