THE BILLIONAIRE AND THE DETECTIVE

Back from a luxurious business trip across Europe, from Istanbul to Milan, on Azul Airline business class. Eric Jones was seeking for international investor's to invest into his new club, JONES PLACE. Which he has set put to meet international standard.

Eric Jones watched the sea toll up on the sand. Even after a year, it still surprised him that this house was his. The Malibu Bahia beach house, his Malibu beach house, had everything the real estate broker had promised. High, soaring ceilings, a giant stone fireplace, acres of glass. ln the bedroom upstairs where his lover still slept were twin skylights, another fireplace, and a balcony that roped around the second story.

Even his had been impressed when he'd passed through. lt had given Eric a wonderful sense of accomplishment to show off the rooms, the tasteful furniture, the up to the minute stereo unit he'd had built in.

Now, at thirty, no one would call him a pillar of Bahia community. But he was a legitimate businessman whose enterprises turned a solid profile and allowed him a lifestyle the hustling street kid couldn't have dreamed of.

He owed the Cops,and he always paid his debts. Otherwise, he'd have chosen to be chained naked on a street electric Pole rather than sit tamely in a outer office of commissioner of Police of Bahia.

He sat, patient and still,in one of the steel black chairs in the waiting area,a tall man with a long legged, tough wearing a three thousand dollars jacket over a twenty five dollar T-shirt.His hair was black, straight and thick and his skin looks like pale gold.

The smooth,cool,clear black eyes might have been a legacy from his Russian great grandmother. Eric knew little of his family history,his own parents had been more interested in fighting with each other over the last bottle of beer, rather than tucking thier only son in with bedtime stories.

He would remember his young age,his attitude had deep roots,and stemmed from spending his formative years dodging Cops.

He'd picked his share of pocket by the time he'd turned fitheen and knew the best,and most lucrative channels for turning a hot watch into cool cash.

The same year he'd invested his carefully hoarded takes and winnings in a small gambling Enterprise that centered around point spreads and indulged his interest in sport. He was a businessman at heart.

He hadn't run with gangs.

He had a problem with authority and preferred it to be himself,in his terms and conditions.

After he'd turned twenty,his gambling interests had grown nicely a little too nicely to suit certain more established syndicate.

He'd had the hell beat out of him. Eric acknowledged bruises all over his body,the split lip and blackened eyes as a business risk. Cops were a great deal more of an annoyance that business rivals.

Eric had never pinned down what exactly separated this cop from the others in the line of shields and rule books. He knows that this cop who always hauled his arrogant butt in had been different.

Eric had found himself rehabilitated almost despite himself,at least enough to see there were certain advantages to,if not working in the system,at least working the system.

"Mr Eric Jones, the commissioner will see you now". she offered a polite smile as she Rose to get the door. The woman Manning the station outside the commissioner's double doors was young, attractive with a very interesting curling long black hair.

But he didn't flirt.

His eyes warned a woman he'd be dangerous. He had a dangerous way of moving as well,she mused. A woman could weave some very interesting fantasies about a man like that and fantasies were probably the safest way to be involved with him. Then he flicked her a smile,so full of power and charm,she wanted to sigh like a teenager.

"Thanks". She rolled her eyes as she shut the door behind her.

"Eric". Fred was up and coming around his desk. one hand gripped Eric's while the other gave Eric's shoulder a hard squeeze in a kind of male hug.

"Thanks for coming".

"Hard to resufe a request from the commissioner".

The first time Eric had met Fred, Fred had been a lieutenant. His office was small and glass walled. Now Fred's office spacious. The glass well was a wide window that looked out on Bahia mountains. Something change, Eric thought,as he looks around Fred's sliver glass walled spacious office.

"Black coffee suit you?"

"As always."

"Have a seat." Fred gestured to a chair then walked over to his coffee machine.

"Sorry I kept you waiting. l had a call to finish up, politics." He muttered as he poured two mugs with rich black coffee.

Eric said nothing, but he slightly quirked his lips.

"And no smart remarks about me being a damn politician at this stage of my career."

"l never thought so." Eric accepted the coffee.

"How's is the new club?" Fred asked.

"it's good. We draw a respectable crowd. Lost of gold cards." Eric added as he sipped his coffee.

"Wow, that so! l think maybe I'll bring Martha by for an evening out."

"You bring your wife,you get drinks and dinner on the house."

Fred hesitated,then with a little smile. "We'll see. l have a little problem, Eric. I think you might be able to help with."

"I'll be glad to help,if I can."

"We've had a series of criminal and internet fraud related activities within the last couple of months. mostly high dollars, easily liquidated stuffs, jewelries,cash. Just last month we've had three hits. Very smooth, slick and clean."

Eric Said nothing, as him slightly sipped his coffee.

"ls no news that the former governor's wife was murdered. Her jewelries and cash of over five thousand dollars were stolen from her."

"I had the news too.very bad news for all of Bahia community." Eric said as he rested his mug on his knee.

"The political class, including the president,are very upset with the recent happing."

"They have to be." Eric with a narrowed voice.

"Now the hole of Bahia community is under very strict surveillance and investigation." Fred with a thick voice, as he finished his coffee.

"interesting, well what can I do for you?" Eric rested his mug on the desk.

"According to my records, the marks are as varied as the location of the hits. lncluding that of the former governor's wife, all have one thing in common. They were all at a club on the night of the crime."

Eric eyes narrowed,the only change of expression.

"One of mine?"

"ln five out of the seven, yours."

Eric drank his coffee, the tone of his voice remained pleasant, casual. But his eyes had gone cold. "Are you asking me if I'm involved?"

"No, Eric. I'm not asking you if you're involved. we've been beyond that for a long time."

With a nod, Eric rose. He walked back to the coffee maker,set down his cup. There weren't many people who mattered enough to him that he cared what they thought of him but Fred mattered.

"Someone's using my place to scope marks." He said with his back to Fred. "l don't like it."

"l didn't think you would."

"which place?"

"The new one. JONES."

He nodded again. He turned back. "What do you want from me?"

"I'd like your cooperation. And I'd like you to agree to worked with the investigating team. Most specifically with the detective in charge of the murder case of the former governor's wife."

Eric swore, raked his fingers through his hair and with a rare show of agitation. "You want me to rub shoulders with cops, set them loose in my place?"

Fred couldn't hide his amusement. "Eric, they've already been in your place." With a half laugh, Fred stretched out his legs. With a soft voice. "Seriously I'd appreciate it, if you help me with these investigation."

He'd avoided prison all his life, his clubs have always got a wave or pass from the police authority, Eric thought. "For what it's worth."

"lt's worth a great deal to me." Fred rose.

"You've got it, isn't."

Fred with a little smile offered his hand to Eric again. "Thanks man. Right on time." Fred said as his phone rang. "Get yourself some more coffee. I want you to meet the detective in charge of the case."

He returned to his desk, picked up the receiver.

"Yes Paula. Good. we're ready." This time around he sat at the desk.

"The detective is new, but I have a lot of faith in this particular cop."

"A rookie detective." Eric poured more coffee. He didn't bobble when the door opened, but his mind jumped.

She was long legged, lanky with eyes like prime whiskey. She wore her blonde hair in a straight down the middle of her back, with a well cut jacket which you could assume to be a super model from Rio de Janeiro.

She flicked her eyes over him, but her pretty mouth stayed serious and unsmiling.

Eric realized the package might have been distracting,but he remained Clam and relaxed.

"Commissioner." She had a voice deep and potent.

"Detective. You're prompt. Eric, this is ---."

"You don't have to introduce her." Eric casually sipped his fresh coffee. "She has your wife's eyes and the shape of her pointed nose. Nice to meet you, detective Nesmith."

"Mr Jones." She'd seen him before. Once, she recalled when her father had gone to one of his high school football games and she'd tagged along.

She remembered being impressed by his footballing skills, she felt he was good enough for a professional career in football.

She also knew his history and wasn't quite as trusting of former delinquent as her father. She was a little jealous of their relationship, though she hated to admit it.

"Do you want some coffee, Ella?"

"No sir." He was her father, but she didn't sit until the commissioner gestured to a chair.

"Eric's agreed to cooperate with the investigation. I've given him the overview. I leave you to fill in the necessary details."

"The former governor's wife was rubbed and murdered last week. Her heavy jewelries, five thousand dollars and Range Rover was stolen from her garage. Also seven crimes cases in a period of under nine weeks. Estimated cumulative loss of over Nine hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Four of the homes had security cameras and system. They were disengaged. There have been no sign of break-in. in most case the residents was empty at the time of the incident. However, in one case a victims had his bank account hacked."

Eric crossed his legs,with his coffee mug across the desk. He appears Clam as he listened to her.

"None of the good have turned up through any of the known stores and channels in Bahia. The operations well organized and efficient. we suspect there are at least three,four or more people involved. Your clubs been the main source."

"Now what?"

"Two of your employees at JONES have criminal records. Anderson Grey and Joel de silver."

Eric's eyes went cold. "They have been out and clean for five years and you know they went through rehabilitation, detective Nesmith?"

"l believe your club is being used as a pool to hook clients and I intend to check all the lines. Logic indicates someone on the inside knows what is going on."

"Damn it, Ella." He shut on a furious and loud voice.

"Eric, hear us out."

"l don't want my people hassled because they tripped over the law at some point in thier lives."

"No one's going to hassle your people,or you." Ella added. "If we'd wanted to interview them, we would have, we don't need your permission or your cooperation to question potential suspects."

"You move them from my people to suspect already."

"lf you believe they're innocent,them why worry?"

"Okay, Guys Clam down." Fred said as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I understand your in a difficult and awkward position, Eric. We appreciate that."

"The goal is to find the murders of the former governor's wife, and to root out whoever's in charge of this organization and put an end to it.

They're using you, don't you see it?"

"I don't want Ader and Joel yanked down into interrogation."

"That's not our intention." Ella mused. "We don't want to alert anyone on the inside to the investigation. We need to find out who's working-out the marks and how. We want you to put a cop on the inside."

"ls this a joke?" He asked.

"No time for jokes." She replied. "You should be able to make room for another waitress. l can start tonight."

Eric let out a long laugh, then turned to Fred.

"You want your daughter working tables in my club?"

Ella slowly got to her feet. "The commissioner wants one of his detective undercover at your club,that is my case."

Eric rose as well. "Let's clear this up. I don't give a damn whose case it is. Your father,the commissioner asked me to cooperate, so I will. ls this what you want me to do?" he asked Fred.

"Yes it is, for now."

"Fine. She can start tonight. six o'clock,my office after JONES. We'll go over what you need to know."

"I owe you for this, Eric."

"you'll never owe me for anything." He walked to the door, stopped turned over his shoulder.

"Oh, detective less I forget, waitresses at JONES wear black. Black shirt and skirt. Short skirt I mean." he said before letting himself out.

Ella pursued her lips, run her fingers over her blonde hair,with her hands causally into her pocket.

"I don't think I like your friend, Dad."

"relax my dear, he'll grow on you."

Now with her hands out of her pockets. "You're sure of him?"

"As sure as I'm off you."

She lifted her shoulder. " Still,if I can't trust your judgment, whose can I trust."

Fred grinned. "I'm still going to have a couple of men under as customer."

"Any thing you said Dad, that's your call."

"lt's been a while since the last hit. Like five days now, they're working too well not to want to move again too soon."

She talked towards the coffee pot, then talked away again. "l think they might not use his club next time.

"Hmmm, but we can't cover every damn club in the city at once." Fred said.

"So, you focus your energy on JONES. That's smart and it's logical, one step at a time, Ella."

"Okay sir". As she walked to the door. " I guess the first step is to go fine a short black skirt."

Fred winced. " Not too short."

She slammed into her apartment at 4:05, thanks to the delay of a last minute briefing by her superior.

JONES was a good twenty minutes away and half again that much if she attempted to drive in rush hour traffic.

It was only her second undercover assignment as a detective, and this being a high profile case with the interest of the federal government. She had no intention of screwing it up.

She peeled off her jacket as she raced to the bedroom. Her apartment was simply and not so big, mostly because she wasn't there long enough for it to otherwise.

Her family house was still home to her, the police station house was second on the list of priorities, and here apartment where she sleeps, occasionally ate was a far down third.

She open her closet door and pushed through a selection of clothes in search of a suitable black skirt. If she could manage a quick change,she might actually have time to put together a sandwich or some handful of cookies into her mouth before racing out.

She pulled a black skirt,winched at the length when she held it up,then tossed it on the bed.

Tonight could be the night, she thought as she stripped off her trousers. she had to stay calm, cool and controlled.

She didn't want to be distracted by Eric Jones. She knew a good deal about him her father and it her business to find out more.

The fact was she'd been in his sports bar and had enjoyed herself, the services, the atmosphere, and the superior fast break provided. But that was beside the point, she reminded herself, Right now the point was Eric Jones.

Her father wanted her to trust the man, so she'd do her best to trust him.

By 4:18, she was dressed in black turtle-neck, black skirt. she looked through the shoes on the floor of her closet and found a suitable pair of black low heels.

With a nod,she dragged the clip out of her hair, brushed it,then clipped it back. lipstick, makeups, earrings, perfume. Then she closed her eyes and tried to think like an attractive waitress in an upscale club.

She looked at the mirror, sexy, she supposed. then she picked up her weapon (A nine millimeter pistol) and stuffed it on her oversize shoulder bag.

There was enough time to drive to the club if she got straight down to the garage but she'd decided against the drive after all and had run the ten blocks. Not such a distance,she thought. but the heels she wore were a far cry from a track shoes.

She bolted for the door,and off she went.