Nightwatcher'sunknowngirl said: "I'm guessing that that's only part of Joe's plan…Also what's up with Frank's car getting carnapped?…"

Yep, it's only part of Joe's plan – not that everything that is going to happen is what he has in mind! And Frank's car getting stolen? Well, it's a nice car, far too tempting for the bad guys!

Thank you to everyone. :-)

Boosting - Chapter 4

Frank and Joe were studying a map in the booth that they'd commandeered in the newly discovered diner they'd come across on their new motorcycles. It was a little off the beaten track and it had been found by Joe entirely by accident. He'd spotted it, despite it being hidden slightly from approaching traffic by several overgrown trees.

Rolling his hand at shoulder height, he attracted his brother's attention and pointed at it, then indicated that he was pulling in. Frank drew to a halt beside him and they decided to take a comfort break.

The little restaurant was a converted train car. The outer aspect looked largely unaltered, but the individual compartments inside had long since gone, replaced instead with mock-50s style bench seats and booths. A bar was located at the far end with swivel stools positioned in front. Despite it being largely hidden from view, it was busy with the waitstaff moving quickly between the tables serving as speedily as possible and yelling orders back to the kitchen.

One particular waitress kept pouting and treating the brothers to appreciative glances every time she passed by their table. Frank was steadfastly ignoring her, but Joe was spending the entire time smirking back.

"Concentrate, bro!" Frank finally said and directed his brother's attention back down to the map and ran his fingers along the road they were currently following. "If this is where this cabin is that you rented for us," Frank said. "Then I think we should stick to this road until we get to this turn-off point and we…JOE!!!"

"What?"

"Did you hear a word I said?"

"Dude – pretty girl!" Joe said, in a whining tone and raised his hands.

"Dude – Vanessa Bender!" Frank countered, physically and vocally mimicking his brother so well that Joe belly laughed. "You shouldn't look at girls like that when you've got Vanessa waiting for you at home."

"Okay, you're right. Van knocks the socks off any of the girls in here, anyway."

"Precisely."

"But you've got to understand that you're asking me to fight millions of years of evolution and genetics, it's so hard for me!"

The waitress sashayed up to their table and bent forward a little too far to put their plated burgers down in front of them, right under Joe's nose. "There you go, sweet-stuffs."

Joe automatically took in the view down her gaping top. Frank rolled his eyes and brought his heel back to connect audibly with Joe's shin making him yelp. The waitress immediately left, tossing Frank a disappointed glare.

"That really hurt. "Joe complained, rubbing his leg briskly. "I'm going to get a bruise now."

"Nothing like the extensive contusions you'll sustain if Van finds out what your eyes were feasting on. Here, you can borrow my walking stick," Frank said and shoved it in front of him.

"Man, you are so violent!" Joe complained and moved from his seat to the bench opposite so they could sit face-to-face. His picked up his cheeseburger and bit into it, studying his brother as he chewed. Frank folded up the map and picked up his own burger.

Eventually Joe swallowed and said: "Frank. When you asked me to come and help you with that defibrillator, why didn't you get Nancy to do it?"

Frank immediately dropped his burger back down before he'd even taken a bite. There was quite a long silence before he finally responded. "Well, I guess because I knew you'd been trained on how to use one when you did that course."

"Yeah, that makes sense in one way, but in the other – Nancy must have had that training as well, why didn't you ask her? You took quite a gamble you know. I almost didn't make it up onto that roof at all!"

Frank's gaze shifted down to his burger and he started picking at the bun. "Nan and dad didn't know the layout of the school like you and I didn't want to tell her too much and put her in further danger."

"But you didn't mind putting me in mortal peril, then?" Joe asked, only half joking, but his brother didn't look up to see his smile

Frank flinched like he'd been stung. "Nancy once said something simi—" he started, and caught himself. "I didn't tell you everything either, for exactly the same reason." He was rolling bread into little balls between his fingertips and discarding them at the side of his plate.

"But, man, it was a suicide mission – where was your head at that you'd even contemplate that?"

"—I gotta go to the bathroom," Frank blurted out and quickly left the booth without a backward glance.

"Hey Frank, I—" but it was too late to reel him back in, he'd gone. "Oops," Joe muttered to himself.

He picked up his burger again, took another bite and chomped thoughtfully. He couldn't believe how easily a few carefully worded questions had sent his brother scurrying away. It was transparent just how far Frank still had to come to break free of the mental chains that had been shackling him down for so long.

It was obviously going to be one hell of a job helping him to disentangle himself, especially if he kept on only half answering questions, or avoiding them entirely. Joe suspected he might have to wholly unravel his brother before setting about knitting him back together. But no one knew his brother as well as him and if he couldn't sort out the Frankster, no one else was going to. And he did so revel in a challenge!

*****

It wasn't long before Con was leading Fenton up the concrete steps to the doubled-door entrance of the Bayport Police HQ. Con held the door open and Fenton stepped through and approached the front desk. He noted that near enough all the faces in the open plan office had begun to look up and swivel towards them as they had entered, most lifted a hand, a palm, or at least a smile in greeting at Con who responded in kind.

"Hello Lieutenant!" the Desk Sergeant blurted out in surprise.

"No need for Lieutenant any longer, Benson," Con corrected him. "Con will do. How the devil are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks—Con." he replied, stuttering warily over the name. "What can I do for you today?"

"We've been summoned here. Apparently the Chief wants to see us."

"Take a seat and I'll let him know you're here."

They sat down and waited as Officer Benson called forward to Chief Collig's secretary. After returning the receiver to its cradle, he beckoned for Con and Fenton to return to the desk and asked them to fill out the visitor's log and handed each of them a badge.

"How are your sons?" Benson asked Fenton, who was pinning his pass to his jacket.

"Better thanks, they've gone away for few days together."

"Good for them."

The door beside the front desk opened and he turned to find the imposing, larger than life, razor-haired Chief Collig standing outlined in the doorway. "Hello boys!" he roared. Fenton wondered if Ezra Collig realised how loudly he spoke, or whether he did it for effect.

Collig came forward to shake him by the hand. Fenton hated shaking the Chief's huge hand as his grip was one of painful iron, but he still put his palm out and readied himself for the bone-crushing shake. He at least managed not to flinch this time, but was a bit peeved when Con didn't get the same treatment, receiving a slap to the shoulder instead – mind you, it did make him stagger.

"Come on through to my office," Collig said and led them across the room, weaving them through the partitioned areas, chattering pleasantries to them as they went.

Fenton took a peek at his partner sideways and caught Con doing the same back. They were both obviously thinking the same thing – Ezra Collig was being overtly friendly and he was never that friendly. It didn't sit well. What is he after?

He led them to his office and opened the door, motioning them to enter and asked his secretary to bring a coffee pot into their meeting.

"Meeting?" Con mouthed silently at Fenton, who lifted one side of his mouth and shook his head slightly. He was just as bemused.

As Fenton entered the room, he stopped dead, almost causing Con to run into the back of him. Sitting at the small circular conference table, surrounded by four chairs, was a stranger dressed in a black suit and wearing sunglasses. His hands were clasped and resting lightly on the tabletop in front of him. As they'd entered, his head had turned towards them, pitched slightly to one side.

"Erm, Hi." Fenton said. The man didn't respond in kind, so Fenton turned to Collig with a puzzled expression.

"I see you've met our friend. Ignore him, he's here purely in an observational capacity."

"Observing what, exactly?" Con asked, suspiciously.

"Our meeting."

Fenton raised his hand. "Not wishing to be argumentative or rude, but I don't actually recall scheduling a meeting into my diary, and I'm sure Con didn't either."

"That's an affirmative, Fen. What's going on?" Con asked.

"Relax boys, this is to your advantage. Sit down," Collig said, pulling one of the chairs out and parking himself down. Neither of them moved. "I said, sit."

"We're not a couple of badly trained pooches, Chief!" Con protested.

Fenton crossed his eyes at Con. "Let's get this over and done with. If we don't like where the conversation is heading, we can always leave – it's not like we're under arrest—" he turned quickly to Collig. "—We're not under arrest are we?"

"Did anyone read you your Miranda Rights?"

"No."

"Well then, you've got nothing to worry about." Collig lifted his chin and pulled both chairs away from the table. He'd sat in the middle of the two seats, preventing Fenton from sitting next to his partner.

So Fenton made his way around to the furthest chair and picked it up to bring it around the table. He plonked it down next to the other empty seat and joined Con in looking pointedly at Ezra Collig until he finally shuffled his own chair across to make room. Only then did they finally settle down. The stranger in the wraparound sunglasses and expensive suit still hadn't moved, other than to observe their unravelling 'status' game.

Almost immediately, the door opened again and Collig's secretary entered with the coffee. Con stood up for her, took the tray and pushed it towards his old boss.

Collig started pouring out the coffee, but didn't offer one to the stranger, who didn't seem at all bothered.

"Fenton," Collig started. "I hear that Frank's car's been stolen?"

"That's right."

"A shame, it was a nice car by all accounts. I hope he gets it back."

"So do I, especially as it's been reported to the police. I expect your guys are out looking for it? Look, Ezra, is this conversation leading anywhere? Because if not, I'd like to start searching for it myself before Frank gets back and discovers it's missing."

Collig smiled and took a drink of his coffee and studied the both of them over his cup. "You've been noticed. Someone's been watching what your little agency has been doing, and they like what they've seen. And the incident with Frank's car – it's hopefully going to prove fortuitous for your agency."

Con and Fenton shared a baffled look. "Not sure we're quite following you." Fenton eventually said.

Collig swept his cup in the direction of the stranger. "People high up in the government are interested in hiring your agency to do a little freelance investigative work for them and it could become a regular gig."

The man actually moved. He looked towards Collig and nodded. "I like them, they'll do." Then he stood up, and left the room.

"Huh?" Con responded. "What was that all about?"

But Fenton wasn't prepared to wait and find out what else Collig was going to propose, he'd heard the word 'government' and had put it together with the word 'Network' and didn't like what he was hearing. With a face like thunder, he immediately shoved his seat back, stood, and started removing his visitor badge, feeling heat rising to his face.

"Now look here, Ezra. I'm not getting involved in anything to do with those Network people. Look at the mess they left my boys in. I'm not putting them through any more of that. Laura and me nearly lost both boys that night!" He finally managed to unclip the badge and threw it down on the table before making to leave.

Collig's incredulous voice immediately came booming back at him across the office. "Relax Fenton, this isn't anything to do with that organisation, this is purely, central government stuff. Cases they don't want to deal with themselves."

Fenton stalled at the door and had half turned when he heard Con mutter: "Fen—" in a warning tone.

He looked back to see that Ezra was standing with his knuckles resting on the table top, and Con had slid down in his chair and dropped his head back against the headrest, eyes settled on the ceiling. Only because of Con's muttered caveat did Fenton decide to hear the Chief out, although one hand stayed resting on the doorknob ready to leave in an instant if he still didn't like what he was about to hear.

Collig continued: "What you just experienced was a kind of job interview. They wanted to make sure that a mistake wouldn't be made in asking you to become involved in a case. You passed. They like your attitude – they don't like sheep."

Con shifted slightly in his seat, and Fenton's attention switched to him for an instant. Con's index finger was pressing hard up against his lips and Fenton knew…just knew…that he was fighting the urge to go "baaaaa".

Chief Collig continued his explanation, pulling Fenton's attention back. "This is purely related to Frank's car being boosted and nothing else. I figured that if you're both going to be looking into that, you might as well kill two birds with one stone and earn a bit of cash in the process. Give me some credit, Fenton, I'd never have ask you here if it was anything to do with the Network!"

Fenton dropped his head, chastened, and returned to the table and his chair. "Ah, I see. Sorry Ezra."

Collig grunted and strode over to his desk to pick up a cardboard box that was perched in the middle of his blotting pad. He returned with it and slid it towards them. "The contents of this are for you all to inspect at your leisure, after I've explained what they are proposing. Then, if you're interested, I've been given permission to negotiate the fee with you."

"Fire away," Fenton said, picking up his drink again and reattaching the badge.

Collig took another swallow of his coffee before beginning. "There's been a sharp increase in high-end cars being stolen from across the East-coast area. From Florida all the way up to Maine. Thefts have more than doubled in the last twelve months and those figures are steadily rising. Some of them have been taken by force, but the majority were simply driven away under cover of darkness. The police forces involved have pooled their intelligence and it's now clear that it's an organised network of criminals who have banded together in order to run it as a business. It appears that they are stealing the cars to order, and once they've been taken, none have been tracked down."

"Are they being sent abroad?" Con asked.

"That's a possibility, but it's all supposition at the moment. Now it appears that the high-end cars are not all they're interested in, and the thefts of mid-range cars have begun to increase as well. It's suspected that these are somehow being sold on the open market, but that's proving hard to establish as any cars inspected at random have all shown up with legitimate paperwork. Frank's car would be classified as mid-range, but there are an awful lot of similar mid-range vehicles out there, so tracking down one takes a lot of legwork and the various police forces don't have the manpower to be able to concentrate on it."

Inexplicably, Con suddenly started to laugh, loudly. Fenton and Chief Collig both turned to him, surprised.

"What's so funny?" Fenton asked.

Con carried on for a few more seconds, but eventually settled down enough to be able to answer him. "Don't you see, Fen? Someone high up has had a car stolen and they're pissed about it and have decided that now is the time that something should be done!"

Fenton slowly grinned and switched his attention to Collig and raised his eyebrows. "Well, Ezra?"

"That's not for me to say," he said, and winked conspiratorially, making it very clear that Con had knocked the nail on the head. He rapped his fist on the table to get the ex-Lieutenant's attention again. "What I will tell you though, is that they initially hired another private detective to look into this who hasn't been heard from for a long time, so they're hoping that if your agency goes looking, you'll find the missing P.I. as well."

"So this isn't simply about cars being boosted?" Con asked. "This could involve a kidnapping, or even a murder?"

Collig shrugged and looked from Fenton to Con. "So, what say you, boys, Interested?"

Con caught Fenton's eye and they nodded.

"Yes, we're interested. Fenton said. "As you pointed out, I'm going to be trying to track down Frank's convertible so we might as well be earning some money along the way." He turned his head slightly to one side. "One thing before we start talking about the fee. If we're going to look into this on behalf of the government and on behalf of the various police forces, we'll want access to police equipment, files, databases, etcetera. And we do it our way – no interference!"

"Agreed." Collig rose from the table once again to fetch a pad of paper from his top drawer. "I've been authorised to offer you this much to look into the case." He turned the page over and pushed the pad across the table.

Fenton and Con looked at the figure jotted at the top. Collig had surprisingly feminine handwriting for a man with such fat fingers. Con's eyes opened slightly wider in surprise at the offer 'on the table' and his pupils expanded, but Fenton shook a negative head and held his hand out. "Pen, please Ezra."

Collig took one from his top shirt pocket and handed it across.

Fenton picked up the pad and scrawled a figure onto the page. He showed it first to Con to approve and then passed it back to the Chief.

"You doubled it!" Collig exclaimed "For the love of—" He glanced darkly at Fenton, pursed his lips, wrote another figure and returned it.

Fenton shook his head again. "Okay, Ezra. Cards on the table time. I think you'll find this to be a fair compromise." He put the pen to paper again and heavily underlined the total.

He passed it first into Con's hands this time and his partner read what Fenton had put, his mouth kinking up at the corners in amusement as he slid it back to his ex-boss.

Ezra Collig glanced at it and looked sharply up at Fenton, his eyebrows knitted. "That's the same figure as the last one you wrote down!"

"I know it is, and that's my final offer, Ezra. If they want the best, they'll have to pay for it. Take it or leave it."

The Chief considered the fee for a little while longer. "You drive a hard bargain, but you've got yourselves a deal, boys." He put his hand out to shake on it.

"Oh no!" Fenton thought, aghast, and allowed Ezra Collig to attempt to break his fingers again. Afterwards, he reached his tingling fingers into his inside pocket and took out the CD that had been burned for him by the security guard at the apartment building. "Ezra, can you see if your lab guys can clean this up for us? It's CCTV footage of the car being taken. At one point the perp looks over his shoulder and I'm hoping he showed more of his face than he meant to."

Collig took it from him and tapped it against his temple in agreement.