038 THIRD PERSON COVEK call Kowalski 1100

As Covek drives he realises that the woman might contact police before he can get to her daughter and use her as leverage. He knows from experience not to bet your whole stack on one play. Spread betting is the best strategy. Cover all bases. To this end he needs to know when she speaks with police. That involves having someone he can trust watching out for when she makes contact. He thinks through all the officers he knows who will be in a position to monitor what he needs. About six names spring to mind but the problem is, none of them he could truly trust with something as sensitive as this. 

He continues driving, wracking his brain, sure that there must be someone. He knows a lot of officers who are able to keep their mouth shut and look the other way when asked, but none of them have clearance to use the central incident reporting system that he needs access to. 

As he drives on, finally, someone does come to mind. Sergeant Jaben Kowalski. Covek finds Kowalski's number in his cell and dials it. It rings, and rings and rings...

Sergeant Jaben Kowalski sits at his desk in his cubicle office, staring at a computer screen. He hates computers and hates his desk job just as much. If he had it his way he'd be out on the streets where he belongs. Where he was raised. Alas, a car crash six years prior saw to it that he was to be desk bound the rest of his career. During the crash he twisted his spine so severely it fractured in multiple places. His left femur was also shattered in the collision. They managed to pin his femur and that's healed nicely, but his back is another story all together. Kowalski takes pain killers everyday. Every month. Every year. To go without for longer than twelve hours means he gets a shooting pain running up and down his lower back. Despite this, Kowalski knows he's lucky he survived the impact. He was travelling thirty over the limit when he lost control on a tight corner on a wet night. The car spun a full three-hundred and sixty degrees before he slammed into a street light. Until the crash he was slim and athletic. Since, his waist grows about two inches every year. As he chews on the edge of a polystyrene coffee cup filled with bitter black murk he hears the vibration of his cell ringing in his desk drawer. He fishes it out and a wry smile creases his face when he sees who's calling.

He answers with, 'Covek Fischer, the legend himself.'

Covek lets out a sigh of relief when he hears Kowalski answer. It rang so long he thought it was either going to ring out or go to dreaded voicemail.

'Kowalski, how's life treating you?'

'Man, how long have you got?'

'I'm in a rush, lie to me.'

'In that case, everything's great, I'm living the dream, life couldn't be better.' Kowalski says with driest sarcastic tone he can manage. How're things with you?'

'Right now, I'd say my life's ten times as good as yours.' Covek says flatly.

'Jesus wept.' 

'He truly did.'

'Well, Covek Fischer, let me turn that frown upside down. How may I be of assistance? Assuming you require assistance? I don't imagine you called to shoot the breeze?'

'No breeze shooting today. I need a favor, off the record, you understand?'

'Who are you talking to?' Kowalski says, almost insulted that Covek would need to confirm that. 

'Right, I just wanted to make sure you get where I'm coming from.'

'I always know where you're coming from. Tell me what you need.'

Covek pulls Susan's driver's license from his pocket and reads to Kowalski. 'Susan, Ann with no E, Casali. C, A, S, A, L, I.'

Kowalski jots the name down on a note pad. 

'And why do I need to know about this lovely lady?'

'First, can you check if she's got any priors?'

'I already am. You got a D.O.B for me?'

'Seventh of April, Eighty Four.'

Kowalski types the details into his computer. A moment later Susan's rap sheet appears on screen.

'Okay. In short she's a wild child, but pretty much harmless. You want the full report?' Kowalski comments as he reads through. 

'Give me the general gist, who am I dealing with?' Covek asks. 

'Misdemeanors starting when she was thirteen. Just the usual, nothing worthy of note, until she steps up to a felony possession charge for heroin.'

'When was that?'

'About a year and half ago, just over. She got a suspended sentence given lack of significant priors. She's on a good behaviour bond for five years. Just under three and a half years to run.'

Covek nods to himself, slowly forming a more detailed picture of who this woman is. 

'How do you know her?' Kowalski asks. 

'Friend of a friend of a friend of a friend.' Covek says in such a tone that Kowalski knows not to pry any further. 'She's gonna pop up on the grid soon. The second she does, I need to know when and where.'

'Copy that,' Kowalski says. He then sets an alert in his computer attached to Susan's profile. The moment she calls in for any reason he'll be notified. 

'All done.' Kowalski says. 

'The second she touches base, I need to know about it. No delay, you call me right away, you understand?'

'Loud and clear.' Kowalski fires back. 

'I owe you.' 

'I take mine neat.'

'Single or double?'

'Don't ask stupid questions Covek.' Kowalski says. 

'A triple it is. You're a good man Kowalski, I don't care what everyone says about you.'

'Go fuck yourself Covek.' Kowalski says with a smile, then ends the call.

Covek breathes in deep, holds it, then lets it go. A fraction of his stress leaving him with that simple act. But he knows he is so very far from being in the clear. He still owes a briefcase full of heroin to a man most hardened criminals would happily spend their entire lives never knowing existed, and there's a rogue woman out there with the ability to crush his career and send him to prison for life where he would very likely end up dead inside twelve months. Two major frayed ends he needs to tie off before his stress levels can return to somewhere near normal. Covek nods to himself, feeling better that he's taking control of the situation. Next stop is the airport, but first, he needs to make a quick detour to collect something imperative to being able to execute his plan.