"Morning sunshine, and how may I help you today?"
"Cut the bullshit. We have a triple homicide at the Plaza. Somebody entered a room on the top floor and shot everybody inside."
"You're not winning any points for good manners here. I'll look into it and get back to you."
Monica was so angry at herself for getting trapped in this arrangement. She absolutely despised working with criminals but here she was whoring herself out to New York's biggest mob boss.
She was having a bad day at office. There were cases which were lying open and her best detectives were busy. It had finally gone to the point where her temptation to make that phone call proved to be too much.
Most of the jobs of a Captain are administrative, but she had assigned someone to handle all the paperwork so she could do the one thing she wanted- be in the field. She was desperately combing through whatever evidence they had, but could not get anything beyond the make and model of the gun. The phone started ringing again.
"Was the bullet used from an unregistered gun?"
"Yes. What does that mean?"
"The victims were all college students, right?"
"Yes."
"They were part of this new secret escort service for rich ladies. These kids get huge sums of money to help them live out their most debauched fantasies. Debauched and sometimes violent. Word is that they were hired by a very important woman. Her husband arranged this in a moment of rage when he found out."
"Wait, this woman had sex with all three of those guys?"
"Yes, as it turns out, she wanted something 'different'. The agency name is Private Liaisons. They have an underground office in Queens. Go there and threaten to shut them down unless they tell you who those kids were servicing last night. That should do the trick."
She slammed the phone down. At least one case was solved. This was like a lifeline, but one she was not comfortable using. Wanting to be thorough, she visited the website of the service. Logging on, she immediately saw a myriad of handsome young boys in their late teens to mid-twenties. She shook her head as she tried to think of reasons they would want to be gigolos.
Absent-mindedly surfing through the list, suddenly she came to a halt. One face jumped out of the page at her. Monica observed it minutely- closely cropped blonde hair, hazel eyes, high cheekbones, it looked uncannily familiar. She opened his profile page. His name was Zach Harper and he was one of their newest recruits.
So when Monica Devereaux went to Queens, she had two objectives in mind. Going to the address she got from Brett, she confidently strode past the bar in front. In the backroom, she found a dour woman with a laptop. She seemed shocked to see a police officer and tried to shut the laptop, but Monica was too fast for her and grabbed it from her hands.
"Well well, you seem to have a nice establishment running."
The woman stuttered, trying to feign ignorance, "I-I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh really? Then how come you have admin access to an escort website?", Monica said, smiling at the laptop screen in her hands. The woman had a look of disbelief slowly morphing into horror on her face.
"There is no way you have any proof."
"I don't need proof. Can you imagine if word got out how the richest wives in the city were being serviced by these kids? I fancy some powerful husbands would come looking for you."
The woman stared at her blankly, processing the information. Soon the expression was replaced by one of resignation.
"What do you want?"
She took out three photographs and put them on the table along with the laptop. The woman on the other side examined them closely.
"I want to know who they were doing last night."
She searched on her computer and a minute later had an answer.
"They were supposed to meet one Mrs Lindsay Pearl."
"Why does that name sound familiar? Wait, that's the wife of Dominic Pearl, who runs all those nightclubs in Harlem," she said under her breath.
Monica smiled, her helpline was invaluable. Now for the second part of her visit.
"I was looking through your website and I think I saw someone I liked."
"Ohh.. Do you remember his name?"
"Zach Harper."
The lady seemed to relax a bit. Monica had come for a business transaction as well. She wouldn't be shut down just yet.
"Just a minute let me check. Yes, Zach Harper is available tomorrow night."
Monica leaned in closer to her. It was one of her patented ways of intimidating people. She could see the colour slowly drain from her face.
"I want him tonight."
"I-I-I'm afraid he's already booked for tonight. If you would look at the rest of our men...."
"I'll pay double the rate. Just make sure he is waiting here at 10. I will pick him up."
The woman nodded. Triumphantly, Monica stood up and started leaving the room. The last thing she said before walking out of the door was, "I hope he likes it rough."
Once she knew where to look, the rest of the case was a formality. It was wrapped up in a neat package by the night. She took her car out to Queens and sure enough, young Zachary Harper was waiting outside the bar. He seemed distinctly nervous- after all, it had taken considerable juice to get the agency to blow off a client and reassign him.
She stopped her car beside him and lowered the glass.
"Get in."
Zach hurriedly obeyed the order. He sensed that nothing good could come of disobeying this woman. She radiated an aura of power. Sensing his apparent discomfort, Monica tried to initiate a conversation.
"Where are you from?"
"Colorado. I just moved here a couple of months ago."
"And why become a gigolo, that too one with no limits?"
"Easy money. This city has a lot of horny, rich ladies who have secret dark fantasies. I'm no stranger to physical violence, having grown up in a bad neighbourhood in South Boulder. Simply put, I can take whatever they throw at me."
"Don't get so cocky young man. You have a rough night ahead."
"How rough?"
"You'll find out."
He involuntarily gulped. He knew that he was sitting beside the legendary cop herself. This woman was known for her ability to dish out a beating. She reached over and patted his head.
"Don't worry, I won't permanently damage that pretty face."
They sat in silence as Monica drove up West Street. He spoke up after a few minutes.
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
