Message-ID: <7476eli$9801181717@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Morg105829 Subject: Kathy by Morgan (M/F) Chapter 12b Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <8aeaa95.34c21085@aol.com> To: story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us From: morg105829@aol.com Subj: "Kathy" Book II, Chapter 12b (M/F) (258 lines) January 17, 1998 Thanks for the (mostly) friendly comments. This is the fourteenth section of a book that runs 26 chapters. It is about half a chapter; it is divided purely in the interests of an upload. It should be attached to 12a as a single chapter. Readers are most strongly urged to read Kathy from the beginning. It will make no sense otherwise. I hope to have the balance of the book posted within a week or so. Comments (of any kind) will be appreciated. Contact me at morg105829@aol.com. Although this is substantially more tame than many postings on A.S.S.M., the usual disclaimers apply. Permission is granted to repost, but only on non- commercial sites. Please inform me if you do so. "Kathy" (c) 1991, 1998 by Morgan. Book II Chapter 12b Kathy was at home in her library playing with her electronic toys. There was a normal-appearing television set on a shelf in built-in cabinets, but it wasn't normal. Pressing a button raised a sliding panel above the set. Behind the panel were two additional TV sets. Using a remote control unit, Kathy could watch the three network channels simultaneously; the audio came from whichever channel was displayed on the main screen. It was after eleven o'clock and she was using the device to watch the three newscasts for coverage of the Dangerous Criminals Task Force. At the same time, a bank of videotape machines in the ventilated cabinet below were recording all three programs. Kathy smiled to herself thinking about her electronic overkill. The three operating tape units were in a bank of six. The other three -- now idle -- were there against the possibility that she might want to tape cable channels as well. She was surprised to see that the coverage was even more extensive than she had seen at six o'clock. If broad publicity could be of value to her program, she was getting the best that could be hoped for. Just then the telephone rang and Kathy picked it up. A familiar woman's voice was on the phone, but Kathy couldn't immediately place it. It certainly wasn't Jane. "May I speak with Katherine Smith, please?" "This is Kathy Smith," she answered, sounding puzzled. "Kathy, this is Julie. Do you remember me?" Memories came back in a flood. How could she ever forget the large woman with whom she lived for so many years. How many years? For some reason Kathy had never been sure. "Of course I remember you, Julie. How have you been? Where are you? How are the girls? Are you still in the business?" The questions just bubbled out. This was the first time she had spoken to Julie since she left the house -- how long ago? -- in eight years. She heard the familiar laugh she had not heard for such a long time. "Slow down, Honey. I'm fine. I'm in a new house. Or at least at a new location. You may not know it, but the old house was leveled for urban renewal five years ago. I don't think you want to know where I am now. With your new job you'd close me down and I'm too old to go into another line of work. As far as the girls go, there aren't any who were here when you were. This is not a business where a girl ages gracefully. "I saw you on television tonight and I had to call you. Honey, you are so beautiful! And I'm so proud! There was the district attorney himself introducing his new special assistant, Katherine Smith. Kathy, your achievements! Yale University, and University of Virginia Law School. My God! And in only eight years. There's more. First, I'm the only one around who knows where you came from. The *only* one. And I'm not saying anything to anyone. Second, I want you to know that you're doing a wonderful thing, and I sure hope you succeed. I know you have a hard time believing this, but it's true. I'll bet you never thought of it this way, but those vicious scum wreck my business. Face it: Places like I run aren't in the best part of town. We're in their territory. They attack my girls and they attack my customers. I hope you put 'em all in prison! "I guess you know by now that we operate pretty much in the open. My girls aren't hoity-toity call girls; customers come here. Payments for certain people to look the other way or not see certain things are a cost of doing business. The owner takes care of things like that. I don't know who's involved and I don't want to know. But, Kathy, we hear things. We're not on the right side of the law but it's in our interest to get these dangerous scum off the streets. If I hear anything that sounds useful, I'll pass it on. Do you have an answering machine on this line?" Kathy said that she did. "Great. Now that I've talked to you again, you'll recognize my voice. I won't leave any iden tification, just the message I think you should hear. Be careful, Kathy! They might come after you. I still love you, baby. Good night." The connection clicked off. Kathy reflected on the conversation. Julie must have some very well-connected friends to obtain her unlisted phone number. However, she was not sure that even the phone company knew where her telephone was really located. Her line ran to another address blocks away. A private wire linked to her apartment. She tried to summarize her feelings about Julie but could not. She did believe that she could and would maintain her secret. The weeks following Labor Day were busy ones. Pete assigned two assistants to work with her. Because of the public announcement of her appointment, there was no question raised about her authority; they did their work. After the List had been circulated to police units, Kathy scheduled a series of meetings including both unit commanders and patrol units. She quickly discovered that she would have to produce a success quickly or lose them. The police -- both male and female -- fully supported the effort. They sincerely wanted to protect the people and the men on the Dangerous Criminals list were immediately recognized as the ones to get. However, Kathy discovered what she started to think of as the "Washday Miracle" syndrome: Yet another new laundry detergent is introduced to the disdainful reaction, "Oh boy. Another washday miracle." The officers wanted to put these targeted men away but had been trying to do so for years. Any number of special campaigns, usually announced with great fanfare, had started... and failed. Worst of all, she sensed a pervasive attitude, "The good guys are losing." She felt she had to have a success. The first break came on September seventh, a Thursday. Kathy had just finished her first week, although Monday had been Labor Day. She received a call at her apartment from one of the district stations. One of the men on the List had been picked up by a patrol unit responding to the silent alarm in a jewelry store. Kathy was at the station twenty minutes later. She supervised the questioning and personally handled the bail hearing. When the judge was about to release the accused, Horace Brown, on his own recognizance, Kathy contested his release on the grounds that Brown was already out on parole. He had been released from prison less than six months before. Furthermore, Brown was already free on his own recognizance awaiting trial on an Armed Robbery arrest only six weeks before. Accordingly, the State wanted Brown held without bail to await trial, or failing that, wanted cash bail set at a minimum of $100,000. The judge recessed the court for ten minutes and went to his chambers. A few minutes later the court reconvened. The judge ordered Brown held in jail pending the posting of cash bail set at $100,000. Bail was not produced and Brown went to jail. Kathy wondered who the judge had called from his office but it didn't matter. The publicity of the previous weekend was working. Better still, the news media, sensing strong public interest and support -- and hence ratings or circulation -- were maintaining their interest. Kathy saw a couple of reporters race for the telephones when the high bail was set. When she returned to her apartment she saw there was a message on her answering machine. She recognized Julie's voice. "Hon, I thought you would like to know. Word on the street is that Horace Brown is pissed. He was trying to make a score to pay the lawyer who's supposed to defend him in his armed robbery trial! Keep it up, kid!" Kathy laughed and fell into bed. The morning news led off with the story of Brown's arrest. The morning news anchorman reported, "Authorities will neither confirm nor deny, but the report is that Brown is a name on the Dangerous Criminals list. Assistant District Attorney Katherine Smith, director of the unit, personally appeared to contest Brown's release from custody on his own recognizance. Such a release without posting bail has been the procedure that informed observers tell us is normal in such cases." A still picture of Kathy had appeared when her name was mentioned. There was also a mug shot of Brown along with a review of his recent arrests. When Kathy arrived at the office in the morning, Pete gave her the thumbs-up sign from his office while he was talking on the phone. Kathy met quickly with her assistants and assigned one to the Brown case. "Jerry, there will be no plea bargains, nor will the State ask for any continuances. I want you to prepare for trial as soon as possible and file this morning for the first available trial date. After you do that, check on his robbery bust. Let's see if we can take over that prosecution, too. It's a heavier rap than burglary." The next morning Kathy saw a squib in the paper that caused her to chuckle. It seemed that the attorney scheduled to represent Brown in his armed robbery trial had withdrawn from the case which had been reassigned to her unit. Kathy personally handled the prosecution and obtained a convic tion. Brown was sentenced to twenty years to life on the robbery charge and the burglary charge was still awaiting trial. Kathy refused to drop it. She was delighted at the effect of the Brown case on the police. A few days later, everyone -- including the press and the public -- was delighted when one of the men on the List was arrested for littering, and with an assistant district attorney appearing for the State, was given the maximum punishment, a $100 fine. This was the subject of the lead editorial in the paper the next day. The editorial writer commented that the word was that Kathy Smith was going after the people on the List and would prosecute everything. Going after littering and insisting on the maximum penalty suggested she was serious. The names on the list were never released, but Kathy and her assistants were considered the bloodhounds. Whenever they appeared, the individual was considered to be on the Dangerous Criminals List. Kathy met with Peter Mahoney. Pete was grinning at her. "Kathy, you are getting it done. It is absolutely brilliant. You started with that press conference. You've been playing the media like a keyboard virtuoso. You have the public behind you and the media supporting you. Most important of all, Kathy, I think you have the cops on patrol starting to believe in you. They are the hardest ones to convince because they've heard so much talk and seen so little action. You know, I'm really proud of the selling job I did to get you in here!" He grinned broadly. "But then His Honor, the mayor himself, said I can talk the birds out of the trees." Kathy stuck out her tongue at him, and he howled with laughter. The program moved ahead. By mid-November, they had registered two convictions and had twenty- three others awaiting trial. A local paper started running a Target Scoreboard with the number, 163, in the center of a target. Below was a bar chart with three bars. The first was the number on Kathy's list, 163. Below was a bar for those awaiting trial, now standing at twenty-three, and one below for convictions, now numbering two. Below that was a space for acquittals, dismissals, etc., showing a zero. On a Friday night in late November, Kathy got home to her apartment at seven-thirty. She smiled to herself thinking that, given the hours she had been keeping since starting the job, she had only worked half a day. She thought of her lunch with Jane Ferguson earlier in the week. They had a window table at a luncheon club on the top floor of the bank building where Jane worked. Kathy was seated with her back to the window with Jane facing her. She looked at her and smiled warmly. "I have never seen you look so beautiful, Jane. You are positively radiant!" Jane was wearing a light grey wool dress with a white cashmere cardigan. Kathy was certain there wasn't much underneath it. The older girl was sitting upright in the chair with her shoulders back and her head up. In spite of the date, she still had a nice tan. Her brown hair showed golden sun streaks which looked beautiful. Jane smiled warmly. "Kathy, I just want to state the obvious. First, I love you and consider you my closest friend in the world. By the way, I never had the chance to thank you adequately for giving me a key to your apartment. I'm a little concerned, though," she added with a mock frown. "I offered to be your maid, or your slave, or anything else if I could only keep the room. Since I still have the room, am I your slave? I'm only asking, and it really doesn't matter much -- maid or slave -- but I haven't told Bob yet. What should I tell him?" In view of their very proper surroundings, Kathy was doing her best to swallow her laughter as Jane went through her very straight-faced comic recital. When Jane finished, Kathy gave her the sweetest possible smile and said, "It's lucky for you, dear, there are so many people here, or I would throw a roll at you! And you know how hard they are!" Jane grinned broadly and Kathy added, "Fur thermore, it's unfair! You're sitting with your back to the room. They can't see you so you can get away with murder!" That crack caused Jane to laugh as she was taking a sip of water. The result was that the water sprayed in Kathy's face. While Jane laughed even harder, doing her best to remain still in her chair, Kathy wiped her face with her napkin. "Boy, I can't take you anywhere!" The two friends just grinned affably at each other. "Seriously, Jane, I wanted to thank you for taking such care of my business affairs. I honestly don't know how my bills would be paid if you didn't do it for me." Jane thought for a moment and then appeared to be thinking out loud, "Well, let's see... She gave me back my self respect, took about ten years off my appearance..." Kathy interrupted, "Twenty years." "Well, fifteen maybe," Jane continued, "got me married... but... I don't know. Now there's been a dramatic increase in internal wear and tear, so there's an offset... Let's me use her private pool, exercise equipment, apartment... Yeah, that's about right. Now, against that I write her checks at least once a month... Sometimes more. Or at least the computer does, but I have to push the buttons all by myself... and... and I have to sign them all *by hand*." Jane appeared to come out of her reverie. "You know Kathy, you're absolutely right! Please buy me a check signer with a signature plate? You can't appreciate how hard it is to sign your name... by hand... *in ink*! It wears a girl out. It really does." Kathy shook her head and grinned. "Okay, I know when I'm licked. I'll let you know about the other thing. I think slave sounds kind of nice, though, don't you?" Jane daintily stuck out her tongue. "See, there you go again! Next time I get to sit facing the window." Then Jane's facial expression changed as she changed the subject: "Seriously, Kathy, there are some things I wanted to talk about. First, Bob and I would like you to spend Thanksgiving with us. Would you please? It's our first Thanksgiving together and it's special. All kidding aside, you made it happen. And Bob is looking younger every day. He claims it's the exercise. Second, we are so proud and impressed with what you're doing in the DA's office. You know Bob's well-connected politically around the state. Some people who are never impressed by anything are starting to be impressed by you. You know the ones: the court-house types who are always there. The guys who never change are starting to think about changing. Bob is really impressed, and not just because it's you, Kathy. Honest. "Finally, Kathy, a new subject: Bob got a call early this week from a man named Charley McCann who owns a bar near the Naval Base. It does a great business with the sailors, I understand. Of course, I don't know anything about sailors." Jane rolled her eyes and continued, "At any rate, he needs some financial help, and he called because he was an old friend of Sam Jenkins. Bob remem bers Sam speaking of him as his oldest friend. Do you think you might be able to do something for him?" "Of course, Jane. Give me his name, address, and phone number. I'll go see him. By the way, are you going to continue to be Bob's secretary?" Jane, who had been neatly writing out Charley McCann's name and address, looked up at Kathy as if she had a screw loose. "Lady, are you crazy? Do you think for one minute I would quit and let my oversexed husband bed someone else on the office sofa every afternoon? Speaking of which, I better get back. Bob is very easygoing provided I'm there for my principal duties of the day." Jane gave a big wink and allowed Kathy to see her rubbing her groin. When she returned to her apartment, Kathy stripped off her clothes, and took a quick shower. 'My Lord, I have this beautiful shower but it has been months since I've been able to really enjoy it,' she thought. With her hair wrapped in a towel, she picked up the phone and called Charley McCann. The phone was answered with the words, "Charley's place." Kathy asked to speak to Mr. McCann. An older voice came on the phone, "This is Charley." "Mr. McCann, this is Kathy Smith calling. I understand that you spoke with Bob Ferguson earlier this week. He suggested I call you. I'm Sam Jenkins' niece." "Miss Smith? Good heavens! Are you the Kathy Smith I see all the time on television? I'm honored. I would be proud to meet you any time you say." "Would it be convenient if I came by tomorrow afternoon? Perhaps about four- thirty?" she replied. "That's fine! I'll be here and it should be kind of slow then. I'm looking forward to it." -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |