Mystic detective (18)

Mickey was waiting for Paul in Fuel, nursing a coffee and a black eye. Not a recent one, it was a lovely shade of yellow and purple. So presumably he had not had a run in with Samantha who was serving behind the counter that day. Unlike most of the Fuel staff Samantha was well spoken and pleasant without much obvious attitude. However, Paul had witnessed her dealing very effectively with a rather overly familiar male visitor.
- Hi Mickey, been in the wars?
- No, not a domestic, just some drunken idiot at Piccadilly gardens last Saturday night. And I wasn’t even on duty at the time!
Samantha brought Paul’s cappuccino and veggie breakfast over and served him with a smile. Her smile lit up her face and made Paul feel good inside. Mickey waited until she left
- She smiled!
- Must be my charm and charisma!
- Charisma my arse!
They laughed and Paul began eating with relish.
- So mystic what can I do for you?
- What’s the word on the street about OM?
- Thieving load of buggers – pardon my French –worse than Man U and that’s saying something
- Any evidence?
- Nothing that will stand up just yet
- Ah so you are after them
Mickey glanced around the room checking whether they could possibly be overheard,
- We do have them under surveillance
- Oh
- Yeah for immigration fraud for starters
- I don’t want to queer your pitch but I have a client to find whose gone missing
- OK but keep me posted and stay out of harm’s way
- I am thinking of visiting them in California
- OM in California? (Paul nodded) If you do go speak to me again before you do and I’ll put you in touch with our opposite numbers – FBI – over there in Santa Barbara.

Soon after Mickey left Apple Mac came into Fuel. Apple Mac – real name Thomas Macintyre was probably the geekiest of the cyber regulars who hang out at Fuel – hence his nickname. He was tall and pretty thin and pretty too in a rather rough and ready way. He was wearing his habitual uniform of black jeans, black T shirt and a black leather jacket all of which had seen better days. He had black curly rather lank hair and black Buddy Holly style glasses although he wouldn’t have known it.
Paul had texted Apple to dig out what eh could find on OM by ‘fair means and foul’ and had arranged to meet him at Fuel that morning
- Hi Apple
- N’ Paul
- What have you got for me?
Apple passed over some printed sheets – a mixture of web pages and plain text.
- Headlines?
Paul noticed once again how with Apple his own conversation style became rather brief and monosyllabic and he wondered if Apple had this same effect on everyone he encountered.
- They are a scam (Paul nodded). They move people around… take a cut from their earnings… they supply their false documents… keep a hold on them permanently
- Anything else?
- Money laundering…. Maybe drug dealing… but small scale mostly Chinese
- Drugs or people?
- Both
- Spying?
- Anything for money
- Whose behind them?
- Not sure
- Guess?
- Triads… mafia
- Thanks
- Be very careful… website had a cyber lock and booby traps… it would be hard not to be detected
- You weren’t?
Apple shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.
- Of course… What do I owe you?
- The usual… plus
- Plus?
- Full veggie breakfast.
Paul smiled and signalled over to Samantha. Apple was already keying into his notepad. Paul paid Samantha, smiled and left.
Apple’s information matched Mickey’s and more and it fitted Paul’s growing sense of what OM was about. There were still too many unanswered questions and Paul was not that sure he wanted to get hat involved. Frankie was on the mend, Claudia was safe in rehab for the moment and only Percy Hampton, the husband of his client, remained in OM’s clutches.