I was half-way through a day shift on a Wednesday morning, as I sat at a computer in the muster room, typing out a report on a minor arrest I had made the day before. I heard footsteps on the carpet behind me, and I looked up to see the shift supervisor, Sergeant Morrow, standing there with a clipboard in his hand.
Morrow was one of those big, rugged, old-style cops that you just don't see any more, and he said, "I've got a little job for you, Mark."
"What's that?" I said, sitting back from the keyboard, to show him he had my full attention.
"Your shifts have been changed this week," he started, looking up from his clipboard, "Sorry about the short notice, but I think you'll like this." He smiled, like he had something interesting to show me.
He sat in a chair next to me, and said, "I know you were supposed to have the weekend off this week, but the Ocean City Expo is on this Saturday, and the Commander wants me to send a uniformed officer over there to fly the flag, and just represent the local police command."
"I see," I answered. I had no plans for my days off, so having my shifts changed wasn't a problem, as far as I was concerned.
"The boss told me he wants me to give the job to a keen, conscientious young officer, who presents himself well to the public," and as a little surge of pride went through me, the sergeant added, "but, I thought I'd send you, anyway."
"Gee, thanks, Sarge," I said with a smile, "I feel as though I'm being groomed for something big."
"You're okay," he answered, smiling back, "I've got a station full of some of the laziest bunch of coppers I've ever seen, here. At least you like to get out and do some police work now and again, so if an easy job like this comes up, I don't mind looking after you."
He got up out of his chair, and added, "I guarantee you'll have an easy day. They're providing their own security, so all you've gotta do is walk around checking things out." He grinned, and continued, "You might have some lost kids and found property to look after, but that'll be about it. Fran'll be down shortly with some instructions from the boss, so I'll leave you to it."
The sergeant walked to the door, and turned, with his big, rugged smile, and said, "By the way, Mark. You owe me a beer for this," as he turned to walk back to his office.
Fran was the Commander's personal assistant, aged about twenty-five, with a covergirl face, and a body that would have a Trappist monk ringing home to tell his mother all about her. One of my workmates had told me he met up with her at a club one night when he was off duty, and he'd had a one-night stand with her. He told me if Fran had fucked him any harder, he'd have been in traction, and I could never look at her the same way at work after that.
About twenty minutes later, Fran walked into the office, wearing a short skirt, and a blouse that was showing some of her delightful cleavage. Her tits, and her apparent willingness to show let her work colleagues ogle them, were a talking point among most of the male cops at the station, and objects of scorn and jealousy from a few of the female cops, as well. She sat next to me in the same chair that Sergeant Morrow had used, and I couldn't help looking at her killer legs, as she swung around to face me. She waited patiently, until I had stopped getting an eyeful, and said, "So, you drew the short straw, did you, Mark?"
"Looks like it," I answered back.
Fran handed me a manila folder, with a typewritten memo from the Commander in it, setting out my duties for the day, and a promotional leaflet from the expo organisers. "You should read that, too," she said, indicating the leaflet, "It tells you all about the expo, and who's gonna be there. South West Pacific TV is running the entertainment, like they always do, so you might get to rub shoulders with a few TV stars if you're lucky."
"You never know your luck," I said, opening the leaflet, and skimming over the bold type. Fran made some small talk, and then left, allowing me to watch her swinging, sexy walk from behind, as she headed back to the boss's office.
I could chew on that all night, and not leave teethmarks in the same place twice
, I thought to myself.
In the leaflet, I found a list of TV personalities from South West Pacific TV, who would be performing at the expo, including, among others, Maurie Acton, the "veteran comedian, and star of his own variety show," Barry Kimball, who had hosted some of their current affairs programs since the 1980's, and then there was Trish Collett, "one of the stars of SWPTV's long running drama series, 'Andersen's Beat."
Trish Collett's name got my attention straight away. Her show, "Andersen's Beat," was a top-rating series about a veteran police commander, and his team of dedicated law enforcement professionals, that had been running on the network for over ten years, but she had only been in it for three seasons. She played a female cop called Amy Templeton in the show, and she had started off in a minor role, but over time she had become so popular with viewers, they had made her a main character, and now there were whole episodes about her adventures. I read a review of the show one day, that described her as, "Lois Lane in a blue uniform," and only last week, I'd read about her in a TV magazine I found in the station meal room, where it said that in just three years, she had become one of Australian TV's hottest young stars.
"Andersen's Beat" was not one of my favourite TV shows, and I only watched about every third episode or so, but Trish Collett was a pretty good reason to watch it. She was slim but curvy, with wavy, dark hair, big brown eyes, olive skin, and a perky, pretty face, that had a kind of "sexy-girl-next-door" thing going. She sometimes reminded me of a young Annette Funicello, in those sixties beach movies, and I had recently read that she had just turned twenty-five. Her character in the TV series often did things no real cop would do, but that of course got her into dramatic situations all the time, where she had to use her wits and wiles to save herself, and she always got the bad guy.
I wonder what she looks like in real life
, I thought to myself. I flicked through the leaflet and read the boss's instructions, and I thought,
Sounds like an easy day.
I had joined the state police force when I was twenty, and had been a cop for nearly eight years. I loved my job, and three years earlier, they had transferred me from Sydney to a medium sized coastal city, but my girlfriend, Isabel, had stayed in Sydney because of her job. After two years, she had broken it off, saying she just couldn't handle a long-distance relationship any more, but next thing I knew, I heard on the grapevine she was getting around town with some young lawyer, and my source suggested she had been seeing him before she broke it off with me. My workmates were all telling me that now I was unattached again, I should get out there and fuck everything that moved, but I had seen myself having a life with Isabel, and I just didn't feel like getting back in the arena just yet. Consequently, my love life had been zero for quite a while now. A few months earlier, I would have been unimpressed to have my weekend off cancelled, but with no woman in my life, one day was like any other, and the boss had told me I'd now have Sunday and Monday off, so it was all good as far as I was concerned.
Saturday came around, and I went to work as normal, and they gave me a marked car to drive to the huge Crestwood Hotel complex, down by the northern waterfront, to spend my day "walking around checking things out," as Sergeant Morrow had said. There was already a fair crowd in the reception centre, when I got there, and on the stage I saw an old guy in a suit, announcing some of the "celebrities" who were going to perform, and take turns as M.C. during the day.
I heard him say Trish Collett's name, and I looked over at the stage, to see her step forward to the mike. She looked much the same as she did on TV, but I was surprised to see she was a little more petite than she looked onscreen. She looked like she was only about five feet five inches tall, and was wearing a red, sleeveless dress that went to just below her knees, hugging her shape on the way down, and flaring a little at the bottom. Her hair was up, and she had a black necklace with a cameo on it, setting off her olive skin against the red of her dress. She looked stylish, elegant, hot, and sexy, in an understated way, but there was still that girl-next-door thing going on as well, and she started to work the crowd, as I stood at the back of the hall and watched her, thinking of the easy day I would have ahead of me.
After a while, I left the hall and had a walk around for an hour or so, looking at some of the exhibits, speaking to a few of the guys from the organising committee, some security guys, and one or two TV people, who were strutting around, trying to look important, and I decided to have a coffee break.
I walked back to a coffee lounge, attached to the reception centre, and sat with my coffee, idly watching the crowd, and I heard a female voice saying, "Excuse me." I looked up to see Trish Collett herself, standing at the table, with a large cappuccino in her hand. "Do you mind if join you?" she said, with a pretty, girlish smile.
I looked around and saw there were plenty of empty tables, and I said, "Have a seat," speaking casually, like it was no big deal, and she sat opposite me, still smiling.
