Influence (10 page)

“Jennifer, can I have a moment?” Anaura requested, deciding that the embarrassment might have been a cue to have a friendly chat to clear the air before the operation started when they would be spending a lot more time together.

Valera followed Anaura into his office and he closed the door behind them as Usher and Richards joked that he had finally wilted and was going to give her one over his desk.  He sat down in his chair and leant across his desk towards her. At first she tried to shake off the embarrassment of the piles comment and reignited her faux confident persona, but Anaura just tilted his head towards her with his eyebrows raised, inferring that he knew she was not as happy as she was making out. Valera sat there looking uncomfortable as she gave up on the act.

“How are things Jennifer, I mean really how? Are you ok?” Anaura enquired, his deep voice being softened to a degree.

At first Valera replied that she was fine with her normal sunny disposition, but her eyes were beginning to betray her as they started to become reddened. Anaura could see that she was trying her hardest to stop the tears from flowing. It wasn't a pleasant sight watching her grow more upset as the minutes passed, but he knew that it was something that finally needed to happen.

“Come on Jennifer, it's OK to let it out.” He assured her.

In a totally uncharacteristic display of emotion, she began sobbing into her hands, prompting Anaura to get out of his chair and walk around his desk to where she was sat. He crouched down next to her so that his large stature was not casting an overbearing shadow over her and placed his arm around her shoulder. In many offices around the country this would have been seen as inappropriate, especially in today’s world of sexual harassment cases, but Anaura didn't care, she was one of his and she needed a shoulder to cry on. He rubbed her shoulder as she continued to cry and asked her what was the matter and that the piles comment was just a joke and couldn't have upset her this much.

She stopped crying and composed herself as much as possible before telling Anaura that she had gone out with a guy who she really liked for a couple of drinks, it had been one of only a handful of dates she'd had over the past couple of years despite what she made out to everyone. The night before had been their third date and being the type of bloke he was, he had decided that the third date meant sex and had made strong advances towards her. When she explained that she was not going to sleep with him so soon, he reacted with anger and started yelling at her, stating that she was a tease who dressed and acted like a slag for attention. As if the insult wasn't harsh enough, he went on to claim that he had only wanted her for a shag, and that no one in their right mind would be interested in having a relationship with someone like her who blatantly fancied herself.

Valera was crushed by his cruel comments, but it had made her realise how she wasn't being her true self and how she hadn't been since being hurt by her ex. Despite the realisation, it still had not stopped her from wearing yet another provocative outfit that day. Anaura remarked how the guy sounded like a complete dick and that she'd probably had a lucky escape. He then leant across his desk and grabbed a box of tissues.

“I've always known this was all an act Jennifer! The moron's wrong about you, trust me. I know this is going to sound harsh; but as long as you keep pretending to be someone else, someone cocky and flirty, the longer you're going to have to put up with dick heads like him. Come on, you're a great, lovely person and if I'm honest, if I was single I'd be chasing you all around the station; well, only if you were being yourself that is!” Anaura's warm hearted comments brought a smile to Valera through her tears.

Valera blew her nose and nodded to him with a smile of gratitude before telling him that she did require the chair due to a haemorrhoid she had and the pair of them burst into laughter. After a minute or so, she stopped laughing and apologised to Anaura for the way she could behave at times. Anaura being as laid back as he was, shook his head and brushed it off as if nothing had happened, telling her that it was just time to drop the act and start being herself. Valera articulated her concerns that everyone would think she was fake if she suddenly started acting and dressing different. Anaura replied with a wink and told her that he had it covered, his plan was that when she started wearing more conservative clothes, she would tell everyone that it was at his behest while they were attached to Op Spear and how he had finally given her a bollocking about her dress sense. Valera smiled from ear to ear as she thanked him.

“And anyway Jennifer, poor Ian's going to have a heart attack if you keep dressing like this! I assure you though, you'll get a lot more positive attention if you're just you. Right, new start from tomorrow that's an order DC Valera!!” Anaura jested with her before saying that he would get her a coffee and her bag so she could sort her smeared make up out and compose herself. His kindness made Valera start crying with happiness.

“Pull yourself together you silly mare” He said in a playful tone before he left her in his office, closing the door behind him again.

As he grabbed her bag off his desk, acting DS Langford who had arrived whilst she was in the office with him, made a quip about the pair of them being in a locked office. Anaura pointed at him with a bouncing finger, which although light hearted, informed Langford it was time to shut up. A few minutes later he appeared from the kitchen with two coffees which drew jeering from the rest of the Vice team who took umbrage to him not making them one.

“You've got legs, make your own drinks” the bantering remark subsequently drawing more jeering and insults from the other detectives. Anaura shouted in response

“Is everything alright Peter?” Richards asked with concern.

“Never better mate!” Anaura replied with a wink and a raise of the coffee mugs.

“Nice bag sir, it's just your colour” DC Tom Payne, a youngish Vice detective shouted out at Anaura who was still carrying Valera's bag.

“Pipe down you! Or you'll be wearing it out on patrol for the rest of the day!” Anaura responded in a jovial manner, causing the other detectives to burst into laughter.

Anaura returned to his office and placed the coffee down in front of Valera and gave her a wink and a thumbs up. After ten minutes she sorted her makeup out, quickly downed her rapidly cooling coffee and thanked him again for his advice and understanding before taking a deep breath and leaving his office as if nothing had happened.

Anaura's phone started ringing.

“Hi Peter, how's your day going?” Laura's asked in her usual warm tone of voice.

“Hi sweetheart! Not too bad, just playing team Chaplain! How's your day?” He replied.

“It's going well thanks. Chaplain, really, for who?” She replied in an inquisitively.

“Jennifer Valera! She's got man trouble and as a result she's finally opened up about her insecurities and said that she wants to make a fresh start.”

“We knew that one was coming! Does that mean she's going to stop flirting with you now? Laura said.

“Who knows? We'll see if it lasts!” He replied

“So are you happy and all set and ready to go?”

“Hell yeah!!!! My dream investigation is about to start and most importantly; my team are all happy, it's going to be a good few months!” Commented Anaura.

“Things are really good!”

An 'Amazing' Opportunity

Chapter Thirteen

Parked in the darkness of Amelia Crescent, West Ording in his ill-gotten Mercedes, Drayson sat contemplating what he was about to do. There would be no going back if he did this; he had to be a hundred percent committed. The risks were inordinate, the result of his plan failing, unimaginable but desperate times called for desperate measures; and these were now seriously desperate times!

Drayson removed a gram of cocaine from the secret compartment he had made under his seat. He needed a 'hit' of the good white stuff before he did this, something to help focus him. He was jacked with adrenaline and fear, something which made him question whether what he was about to do was a sensible idea. The plan he had devised could go wrong from the outset, within seconds in fact, and what would happen if someone saw him there, he thought to himself, trying to think positively and he struggled battling with his doubts in his head.

SNIIIIIIFFF. Drayson snorted the gram of cocaine right up into his nostrils. Soon the drug would be working itself into his blood stream and leaving him with superior confidence and clarity of thought. After the sharpness of the powder dissipated, Drayson relaxed into his seat and turned up his Pink Floyd CD on his flash Mercedes car stereo system that was definitely not standard!

“FUCKING HAVE IT!” Drayson yelled out inside his car, slapping himself around the face a couple of times to help wake him up. He grabbed the woolly hat from the passenger seat and placed it on his head. It was hardly a disguise worthy of Peter Sellers, but it would suffice in the darkness. Drayson swung the driver's door open and let out two forced breaths before leaping out of the car, with the cocaine now beginning to work its wonderful and powerful magic. He pulled up his jacket collar to hide his face a little bit more, looking in both directions of the dark road with a sense of paranoia; cocaine had a habit of doing that! Although it could give you a huge high, the long list of negative side effects that came with using cocaine could really give you some huge lows too. It was a case of roll the dice and see what happens!

He walked out of the dark crescent and headed towards the place where his plan would either begin and save him or plummet him into darkness. As he walked up the road and past the Cobden and Jolly Brewers pubs on his left side, he gave a quick peek into the windows to see if who he needed might be in there; he wasn't. Feeling assured that his helper was where he should be, Drayson continued up Cliffe Road, past the parade of shops, looking down at the floor as he passed the queue of people outside the Fish and Chip shop.

The illuminated sign that stood proud above the entrance of a dilapidated and rough building that was located on the corner of Cliffe road and Neville road, told him he had reached his destination; The Cliffe public house. Drayson walked through the front doors and into the pub that even with the lights on, still managed to somehow appear dark and dingy, the smell of stale beer and smoke permeating the air after years of spillages and poor cleaning. It was a shit hole but it was perfect. As with every run down pub in the country, his entrance was greeted with stares from the tough regulars who were sat at the bar and playing the fruit machines in the background. He stared back at them and arrogantly walked up to the bar, totally indifferent to the local hard men who smelt like they used whiskey as cologne looking him up and down. As he pulled his nice Italian leather wallet out of his jeans pocket, he scanned the room for his target, and there he was!

Sat alone in a wooden booth in a corner of the dingy pub, was a broken, ghostly and dirty looking man staring into his pint of beer. Drayson's eyes lit up. He ordered two pints and walked over to the lone man.

“Anthony Foster! How are you son?” Drayson enquired in a friendly tone of voice.

Foster went to jump out of his seat, his blood shot and lifeless eyes struggling to identify who was speaking to him. Although he began to feel a sense of confusion and panic that he might be seeing things, Foster slowly started to recall the stranger's face. Drayson sat down and asked him if he remembered him, after a minute of hard thinking, Foster nodded that he did. Drayson smiled at him and asked how he had been recently, not that he had the slightest interest, or that it was not blatantly obvious to him that Foster was far from OK. Whoever was sat in front of him now, it was not the Foster he had met on a number of occasions.

“Why are you here? What do you want?” Foster mumbled.

Drayson knowing full well that he was dealing with a volatile individual dived right in and told Foster that he believed his retirement had been a travesty and that he never accepted that the organisation's claims that he was mentally ill. Foster replied that it was nice someone saw it that way but reminded him that he was the only one, the doctors, the job, his friends, all believed it and it seemed as though they were the ones that mattered. Drayson saw his opportunity.

“Anthony, just because a lot of people have the same opinion, doesn't mean they're right. Sometimes when things go wrong like they did on Op Barrier, they need someone to blame for it to make themselves look better. You know how corrupt some of the bastards in command are! I tried to fight your corner, but the Chief said there was too much negative press surrounding you and that he had no choice. It's wrong, just plain wrong what they did to you son!” Drayson remarked.

Shocked, Foster nodded back at him in amazement and told Drayson that all he ever wanted was to be a copper and that they had conspired to take that away from them, he hated them for ruining his life. Drayson shook his head in sympathy and asked Foster if he was taking his medication. Foster replied that there was no way he was going to take the medication that should not have been prescribed to him anyway. Drayson whole heartedly agreed with Foster that he shouldn't be taking the medication and cited that all the medicine did was to turn people into submissive zombies, especially people like Foster, who didn't really need it. Foster smiled at Drayson who appeared as though he understood what the hell he was going through.

“Have you been taking anything else Anthony? I mean I could understand it if you had, but.................” Drayson nosily enquired.

“That's really none of your business” Foster snapped.

“OK, OK Anthony. It's just that, well, I've got a proposal for you, something that could change your life but I need to know; actually forget it. I think I may have made a mistake coming here tonight, I apologise, forget I even came here, look after yourself mate” Drayson bluffed as he began to stand up to leave, something which he had no intention of doing.

“Wait a minute! I've been taking a bit of cocaine, only a little bit though. Why do you want to know and what do you mean something that can change my life?” Foster said, urging him to stay.

Drayson sat down again, trying to prevent the smug feeling he had from affecting the serious expression that he had on his face. He looked around before telling Foster that he had to know exactly what he had been taking and whether it affected his health because if it did, he may have had to reconsider his position. Foster replied that he had only taken cocaine and marijuana and that neither affected his health but they did help him think more clearly, although lately he had only been drinking because of finances.

After only a few months of being retired, Foster had spent most of the sixty thousand pound lump sum he had received, and the monthly pension that he had could only buy so many narcotics. Foster stopped talking about his personal life and asked Drayson again how he was going to change his life and why he wanted to know about his drug use, after all, he was no longer answerable as a police officer.

“OK Anthony, it's like this, I've got a job for you! However if you want it, you've got to get off the alcohol and as for the cocaine, well, I'm not sure, mmmmm, maybe it could help you, I don't know!? I suppose I can live with the cocaine for the moment but everything else has to stop. Can I trust you Anthony?” Drayson said in a serious tone. In reality he didn't give a damn about the cocaine as it would possibly help keep a leash on him, however the alcohol was a problem, it would make him slow, make him sloppy.

“Sure, sure, what's the job, what's the job? Am I going to be reinstated? I would do anything to be a copper again! Hang on, wait a minute! There's no way the Chief would ever allow me back in the Job or to be used for police work, so what's it all about?” Foster asked with suspicion.

“All in good time Anthony, all in good time. I know it sounds far-fetched but the Chief feels absolutely terrible about what happened to you and wants to make amends without anyone knowing the details! He also acknowledges that there really is no one else capable of pulling this job off. However if you have better things to do, then I'll understand!”

Foster desperately and repeatedly assured Drayson that he was very interested, his depressed mental state combined with the alcohol meant that he was unable to think with logic and question what was being said to him on a deeper level.

“OK Anthony, I can see that the Chief was right about you being the right man! In that case I want you to meet me at twelve am, in three days on the 26
th
, at the car park of West Ording forest. You'll get briefed then! This is strictly between us, and I mean strictly! This is an amazing opportunity for you Anthony, but if you can't handle it like a professional, I'll have to hand it to someone who is more capable. I need you to understand that!” Drayson said, expertly manipulating and influencing him.

Foster acknowledged that he fully understood and that he knew the secluded car park well. He also agreed to get off the alcohol and cocaine right away. Drayson responded with a wink, finished his pint and stood up to leave.

“Oh and by the way Anthony; have a bloody wash and shave, you look like crap, Constable!” Drayson ordered him. The use of Foster's former title of Constable made his face light up with happiness.

Drayson left Foster who was now rushing to gather up his things together. As he walked out of the pub, not one person looked around at him, it was clear that his entrance had been more interesting than his departure which was a positive, as it affirmed that no one had heard, or was interested in, what he had been saying to Foster. He smiled to himself, maybe things were brightening up after all; he had found that torch he needed!