The alarm on Jane’s cellphone went off at precisely 8 a.m. A hand reached out from under the covers and turned it off. Jane stirred and nestled closer. It was going to be difficult to break free from her arms and charms.
Jane opened one eye and smiled as she rubbed the other with the back of her hand. I smiled back. We lay there, smiling at each other for the next 5 minutes, just content to be in each other’s arms. What a wonderful way of spending CID’s money. Our superiors should adopt this in their rules and regulations.
It was with a heavy heart that I disengaged from Jane to order breakfast for 9, take a shower, dress and go for a stroll, to give her time and privacy to do the same. When I came back, I found her already at the breakfast table, waiting for me.
Jane’s face was calm. Her eyes riveted with a deadly form of feminine determination that was scary and attractive in equal measure. Her body language was loud–very loud. Her features and assets could give her access to most men’s nether region’s without necessarily having to put her tongue to labour. I could not believe that I had resisted her so effectively in that skimpy piece of clothing a night ago.
I sank into a seat opposite her with ceremony. It was time for serious business.
“I want to know what you know about drug trafficking in the city,” I stated matter-of-factly.
Jane bit through her bread, munched several times, sipped at her tea and swallowed. “It’s not much,” she said cunningly. “Maybe it’s nothing.”
All spies say that. They like keeping a secret or two to themselves. I nodded my acknowledgement. So far she was playing by the rules.
Jane set down her toast and cup and looked at me. I felt a littled distracted but I ignored it.
“I’ve stumbled against very sensitive info,” she said. “A very powerful politician is exporting bhang by the thousands of tons. There’s a possibility that he’s also a dealer in other drugs, armament and counterfeit products.”
She was keeping on the periphery. I decided to play along.
“Where’s the bulk consignment of bhang being exported to?”
“United Arab Emirates.”
“Regions around Mt Kenya.”
Every rookie in the business knew that apart from the little household marijuana plants in Kiss Land, the rest of the narcotic owed its origin in Central Kenya. Those who live in Busia and other parts of Western Kenya got their supply from Uganda where it’s legalised. It was rumoured that the fourth president of Kenya himself puffs at it once in a while, for old times’ sake.
So far, Jane was doing well.
Jane shook her head from side to side. “Not yet but I’m working on it.”
Nobody gives names of drug lords in ‘casual’ conversations. Names only appear in confidential reports marked ‘for so and so’s eyes only’. You can never be sure whether you’re not talking to an informer who would spill your intestines for a little more cash.
“You talked about cocaine and heroin.”
She had said ‘other drugs’ but I was trying to trap her, to put words in her mouth and see if she would chew them up or spit them out.
“I don’t remember,” she said glibly. She was cleverer than I had anticipated.
I smiled. “Well, tell me about these ‘other drugs’.”
“Nothing substantial. Only a suspicion.”
“Jane, our work is all about suspicion, a hunch. We build theories from suspicion and follow them through until we unearth a big underground drug ring. That’s what we’re paid to do and I know that in this case it’s more than a mere suspicion.”
Jane studied me for a moment. “Do you think I’m withholding useful info from you?”
I nodded. “Am I wrong?”
“Will you face a poligraph with that?”
I gulped down the remains of my tea, set down the cup and got to my feet. “I hope you’re going to be interesting to work with,” I said. “But until and unless I take you into my confidence, I know you’ll never trust me.”
Jane stared at me without saying anything.
“I’ve four files that hold highly sensitive intelligence reports for you to read this morning. In the aftertoon, I want you at KNH 30 minutes before 3. I’m making an important contact and I want you to be there.”
Jane rose to her feet. “Where are the four files.”
“In room number 4420 on the bed.”
“Is this a joke? I was there a few minutes ago and I didn’t see any files.”
I held her arm and led her to the lift. “I had someone sneak them in after you left.”
“We’ve our man in here. The cleaner. You go read through. I’m not coming with you. I have calls to make.” She looked at me expectantly. I had to explain. “I’m reporting directly to the spy chief. I know he wants to hear my version of what happened last night.”
“I bet he knows everything,” Jane observed coolly.
“You’re right but he’ll want to hear it from me.”
“I’m not sure but I suppose he’ll want to ask if I found you a virgin or not. Now stop asking questions and go have a look at those files.”
The elevator door closed before Jane could go on…
TO BE CONTINUED…