The door closed on Helen Levine's somewhat startled face.

Jill dropped the card into the first rubbish bin as Clarkson steered her down the corridor.

6.

Monday 1 April, 6 pm.

'All right, if I could ask you to take a seat, please? Most of us are due to knock off now, and I know people are keen to get home.' Superintendent Lawrence Last stood at the front of the booking room, his grey suit and face rumpled with the day. Jill figured that when he'd reached adolescence and his height of six foot seven, he must never have felt the need to develop any brash aggression or male bravado. He towered over most of his colleagues in the police force, and with his height and his hushed, serious tone of voice, he could settle hostility in both cops and civilians faster than anyone she knew.

The other four occupants of the room took seats in front of their commander. Jill sat closest to the wall, with Adam Clarkson to her right.

'First up,' said Superintendent Last, 'I would like to offer congratulations and my grat.i.tude for a superb job this afternoon. The operation was flawless, and that is due to the professional way in which all of you conducted yourselves.'

Last turned towards Jill.

'A special thanks to Detective Jackson here. Her status remains undercover, and although I know it's unnecessary to say this again in present company, I will do so. While Jill is in this building, she is Krystal Peters, today being questioned in relation to items stolen from the Priceline chemist. She will be released without charge this evening, immediately following this meeting.'

'What'd ya steal, Krystal?' said Clarkson. 'Some make-up? You could use some; you're looking a little rough tonight.'

Jill smothered a grin. Clarkson had asked her out three times. She liked him. But not that much.

'Nope, treatment for my lice,' she said, and reached out with a hand to lightly brush his shoulder, as though flicking something off.

'Okay, okay, let's get on with it, please, people.' Last spoke quietly and the banter died quickly. 'I'm preparing an application to extend this operation for another three months. This meeting will serve as an operational debrief for progress thus far, and the notes will be included as part of the application,' he said. 'Before we review the paperwork, I'd like to point out that the covert monitoring has been highly successful so far. In addition to the drugs seized, raids have netted two shotguns, a .22 handgun, a thousand dollars in counterfeit cash, and ammunition. Remember that Jackson's brief is to observe and befriend people with the aim of netting us the major dealers where possible. We don't bring anyone in unless we can get them under the Trafficking Act.'

Last handed Jill a slim bundle of papers. 'Please take one and pa.s.s it on,' he said. 'Obviously, these cases have yet to go to court, so the verdicts and sentences have been left blank, but this will give you an idea of our progress to date.'

Jill reviewed the typed table in front of her. It looked pretty impressive and she stifled a private smile as she bent over the paper. She read along as Last went through each case.

Drugs Amphetamine/ Methylamphetamine multiple supply: s.25A.s.25A(1) Drug Misuse and Trafficking Act 1985 (NSW) supply prohibited drug on 3 or more occasions during 30 consecutive days maximum penalty 20 years Case Drug Amount Priors Facts Acardi s.25A .37 g.

.49 g

.86 g

26.7 g Priors

including.

drugs Engaged in small-scale, but systematic, business of supplying drugs from garage. Small amounts typically sold, but informed undercover police officer he was prepared to sell larger amounts if required.

Lam s.25A 13.53 g

27.6 g

27.4 g Prior

convictions,

including

drugs Sold amphetamine to undercover police officer on three separate occasions during one-month period. Drug of very low purity.

Vrancic

and

Fencott s.25A

Four.

related

offences 26.24 g

63.38 g

(85% pure)

9.13 g

Vrancic:

Lengthy

record, including

possession

and supply,

and a.s.sault Vrancic: Eleven separate sales worth $30,000. Drug equipment found at premises. Fencott: A runner.

Jill zoned out at some point during the review, lost in memories of the things she'd had to do and say to aid in these apprehensions. The work was satisfying and exhilarating, but she also felt saddened by the plight of many of the users she'd befriended in the line of duty. From her years in the job, she knew their stories well: many of the women were incest survivors who'd escaped home with the first man possible. A man whose possessiveness seemed adorable to begin with a true sign of his love. But the months would wear on and she would find herself increasingly estranged from friends and family; trying desperately to please this person who was now never happy, who had taken to belting her when she dropped a gla.s.s, or arrived home a little late from the shops. She'd just have to try harder, of course, she'd tell herself, but he was so angry when she had no money for speed, and she'd taken a liking to the goey too. When he p.i.s.sed off with her best friend, there'd be another man, more violence, and the speed was no longer enough. Valium, Serepax, pot, and the p.i.s.s of course, but if she fell in love with heroin, as many of these women did so good for making everything feel like nothing then DoCS would take the kids and she'd take up with a pimp.

Jill understood that everyone has choices, but she was also aware that some have more options than others. Although she was hardly a true friend to these women, she knew that what she was doing was right. Drugs screwed people's lives and she was making it harder for the poison to get around.

When the meeting wrapped, Jill left the station theatrically spitting on the pavement out the front for the punters and walked back the couple of blocks to her unit. She tried not to be dispirited by the sight of some of her new neighbours a filthy couple screaming at each other in front of the takeaway shop, a youth on the nod at the bus stop. Every day gave her another chance at pulling in someone big, and in the meantime she was putting a lot of mid-level dealers out of action for a while.

7.

Monday 1 April, 9 pm.

'Would you listen to the little b.i.t.c.h?' Crash strode the confines of the cell, each pa.s.s by Seren's bed causing her to contract involuntarily. At any moment, the woman could swing and strike. She'd done it before, and G.o.d knew Seren was long used to blows beginning for no reason, with no warning. She shrugged a little closer to the wall.

'Je-sus, honey, it's not like we can hear anything else, is it?' Little Kim sat spreadeagled on the toilet, her fat, white thighs parted, picking at an ingrown hair on her shaved v.a.g.i.n.a. 'The little wh.o.r.e just won't shut up.'