Once Gibson made his way to the men’s room, Janssen casually spun around on her bar stool. She looked around through the crowd for her men.
The officers had spread themselves strategically around the room.
She glanced behind her, Gibson had moved over toward Ali and tapped him on the shoulder.
Janssen noticed Gibson glance over his shoulder and look around the room, he nodded to an officer discreetly, to signal him to follow his lead.
Turning around to face the bar, Janssen waited for the word in her ear that it was time to make an arrest.
She listened to the men’s conversation: Gibson cutting a deal with Ali over some cocaine and pills.
As Ali fell for the bait and started to discuss prices, she smiled to herself, then turned around to eye-fuck the brunette with the amazing tits as she brought her drink over.
“Here you go, that’s two euros fifty, please.” The barmaid placed a bottle of beer on the mat in front of her.
Janssen pulled out her wallet and handed her a note.
“Thank you, beautiful.” Janssen kicked herself for flirting. “Keep the change.” She winked at her.
The barmaid took the note and threw back her head with a laughter, and then she moved on to serve the next customer.
While she listened to the deal taking place in the men’s room, Janssen watched the woman hard at work. She chewed on the inside of her lip every time the barmaid bent down in front of the fridge to retrieve a beer.
“So how much?” Gibson’s voice boomed into her ear, causing her to stop assaulting the barmaid’s curves with her glare. She straightened her back and listened in closely to Gibson.
“For the pills and the coke?” She heard him say.
“Call it sixty euros, and we’re cool,” Ali said.
“Show me the goods, man. What’s up? You can trust me,” Gibson said.
“Hold up. Here’s a sample.” Janssen imagined Ali pulling out a bag of cocaine and pills. “The purest powder you’ll find this side of the city,” Ali boasted into her ear.
“Sixty euros,” said Gibson. “Is that all?”
Janssen’s expression became serious, and she listened with interest.
“That’s a small price to pay for a prison sentence,” said Gibson. “Or deportation, huh, Ali.”
“Ahh, fuck. You fuckin’ feds, man.”
Janssen looked around the bar and nodded to her team, giving them the go ahead.
They all made their way over to the men’s toilet.
Janssen threw open the door in time to see Gibson pin Ali up against the grimy wall of the men’s bathroom, holding the suspect with one hand behind his back.
“You’re under arrest,” Gibson’s deep voice bounced off the ceramic tiles and around the room.
Two men left the cubicles and tried to exit.
Janssen blocked their way. She grinned, then held up her politie badge.
“Not so fast,” she said. “Over here, please.” She pointed to her left, and one of her plain-clothed officers took them to one side.
“Fuck you, man. I need to make some money,” Ali whined.
Janssen turned back to face her partner and the subdued target.
Gibson had him under his firm grip.
“Not like this you don’t,” Janssen said. “People are dead because of you—ya piece-a shit.” She stepped over the threshold of the bathroom.
Ali spat at her in response. “Bitch.”
“Aye,” Gibson shouted protectively and gripped him by the neck. “That’s no way to talk to a lady.”
“Get off me, pig,” Ali protested, then spit again.
Janssen dodged his phlegm and rolled her eyes. “Thanks, I’ve been called worse,” she said, then proceeded to read him his rights while Gibson cuffed him.
“What’s going on?” A faint male voice called into the bathroom.
Janssen glanced over her shoulder, and she locked eyes with one of the barman.
“We’ve made an arrest. Sorry for the disruption.” She nodded at one of her team to help the barman. “Someone handle this please.”
One of her officers move the barman to onside, then pull out his notepad.
She moved her focus back to Gibson, who now had Ali cuffed and ready to go.
Gibson led him out of the men’s toilets, through the club, and then to the car that waited for him outside.
Moving deeper into the bathroom, a strong uremic aroma assaulted her, and she held her nose. She stepped over the piss puddles on the floor, and cleared each cubical, checking for partygoers, then left the room.
The main bar area was full of uniformed police.
Patrons sat around with stunned looks on their faces. The men that had been in negotiations with Ali, were now in cuffs too. Janssen was satisfied.
Her phone rang. She fished it out from her inside pocket, then headed outside the bar so she could hear.
“Janssen,” she said into the device, then pulled off the wig and shoved it into her coat pocket.
“Detective,” Sergeant Van Baas’ voice boomed in her ear. “We need you over by Amsterdamse Bose, now.”
“What’s up?”
“It’s a girl,” the Sergeant said. “We’ve got another one.”
“Where?”
“Her body was found in the woodland area.” A bit of static crossed the line.
Janssen took a deep sigh and moved her eyes over the crime scene in front of her.
The cuffed men were being led out to the cars.
Gibson was stood by a vehicle with Ali in the back. The road along the canal had become busy, locals and tourists stood around to watch the politie in action outside the bar.
“Fuck me,” Janssen said after a beat. “I’m over on the other side of the city. I’ll be there soon.” Janssen cut the call, then jogged to Gibson.
“I’ve gotta go,” she said. “A body’s been found over by the Bose.”
Gibson peeked at her from underneath his hoodie. “Another girl, or someone else?”
Janssen looked at her partner. Jaw twitching, he ground his teeth together, and his eyebrows met in the middle. She recognised this quirk as the telltale sign that he was about to lose his shit. She’d worked with him for five years and knew him all too well.
“It’s a girl,” she said, then looked away. Her eyes roamed over the patrol cars and flashing lights.
“What the fuck I can’t—shit! All right, cool.”
