Free Sharp Shooter by Marianne Delacourt Page B

of the room and that they’d be searching me as soon as female police officers were present.
    One of them closed the door and leaned casually against it while the other walked around me in small circles. I felt like puking now, and sweat was running down my legs into my shoes. Being caught with my pants off by Whitey was one thing, but being in a drug raid in Millionaires’ Row was quite another. I wondered if JoBob would put up my bail money. Or if Bok would stop laughing long enough to visit me in the clink.
    ‘You like a few party drugs, Ms Sharp?’ said the circler. He was average height – i.e. smaller than me – but solid and muscular, with lips set in sneer mode.
    I shook my head. ‘No.’
    ‘How do you explain that you just happened to be the closest to a puddle of trail mix then?’
    ‘I can’t help where I was standing, and I’ve never heard of trail mix .’ I said it as honestly as I felt it, trying to hold back the irritation that was swinging in counterweight to my fear.
    ‘MDMA and Viagra. Ground up and mixed. Everything you could want for a night out,’ said the door cop.
    ‘If you’re a guy,’ I said.
    ‘“ If you’re a guy. If you’re a guy”! What about “ If you’re a drug dealer ”?’ The circler raised his voice to a shade less than a shout. ‘You’re the one who’s in trouble here, Ms Sharp, so I suggest you start with the truth.’
    Belligerence began to well up. I knew I should stay cool and sweet and do the Yes sir, no sir thing, but my mouth had its own ideas. ‘Why don’t you stop wasting your time on an honest citizen and get back in there and find the real crims.’
    ‘Upright citizens don’t come to parties on Coke Road,’ said door cop.
    Coke Road. Great!
    Door cop left his posse and came to join the Circler. I felt like a drowning swimmer between two sharks.
    ‘Everything alright, fellas?’ came a female voice, halting the sharks. Constable Fiona Bligh had entered the room and was standing with her arms crossed and a hard expression on her face.
    ‘Took your time, Bligh,’ said the Sneer.
    ‘Sarge needs you two out on the driveway. Barnes and Lund will be here in a minute to assist me with this search.’
    The sharks exchanged looks and left.
    Bligh unfolded her arms and slipped a knapsack off her shoulders. Her immaculate bun was dishevelled and she was sweating slightly herself. ‘What on earth are you doing here, Tara?’
    I swallowed. ‘Bad luck I think. And . . . well I can tell you, I wish I wasn’t.’
    ‘You kill a Chinaman or something?’ She took a box out of her knapsack and pulled some rubber gloves from it. ‘If not, you want to think seriously about staying in at night for a while. Sorry, but I’m going to have to do this.’
    Another person entered the room. ‘Tara Sharp?’
    ‘Hi Bill,’ I said. ‘Please tell me Whitey’s not here.’
    ‘He’s out in the wagon,’ said Bill Barnes.
    ‘Come on, let’s get on with it,’ said Bligh, kind of tetchy. ‘Bill, send Constable Lund in.’
    Another female cop took Bill’s place while Bligh did a perfunctory frisk. She didn’t poke too hard anywhere, and afterwards, Bill returned and ran an explosive’s detector over me.
    ‘Thought you were looking for drugs?’
    ‘Terrorism’s a big thing these days.’
    ‘Me. A terrorist? You’ve got to be kidding.’
    ‘Bill!’ Bligh’s voice held a stern warning note as if he’d said too much. She began rifling through my handbag and pulled out the white dollar-filled envelope. ‘Explanation?’
    ‘Just got paid,’ I said truthfully. ‘I can give you my client’s name. Haven’t had time to bank it.’
    ‘Cash, Tara? Hope you’re going to declare it.’
    ‘Of course. My accountant is anal. He never lets me slip up on details.’
    She sighed. ‘Ms Sharp, you’re free to go home. However, officers may call on you again for further questioning.’
    I nodded meekly and went to follow Bill Barnes out of the room.
    ‘And Tara?’