Sex and Crime stories

Author's note:This is the second 'Jade' story, but it can be read as a standalone. My grateful thanks once again toNynahand toPennyThompsonfor their beta-reading comments.

Robert sat in the gloom of his bedroom, face bathed in light from the huge, curved monitor in front of him, grunting occasionally as he battled the maelstrom of invaders filling the screen. His teammates were much more vocal, yelling in triumph through his headset as they won little victories, cursing when they took bad hits, directing each other to trouble-spots. They weren't bothered by his relative silence: they knew why he didn't speak much, and they were kind about it.

Unlike his arsehole brothers, of course, and his evil father. Even his mother, when she had been alive, had rolled her eyes. She at least had taken him for a series of visits to a speech pathologist, but nothing much had worked. And when she got sick and rapidly started shrinking into the shell of her betraying body, there had been no time to worry about Robert. The bullying at school had been so bad that he had just stopped going, but by that stage nobody had noticed or cared. He was just Robert, the useless one. The runt of the litter, the one who should have been drowned at birth. Robert, with the speech problem.

Robert, with hisfucking stammer.The reason that he never left home now, that he was always excluded from social gatherings, even at his own house.

"Just stay upstairs," his Dad would say, "Your brothers and I will take care of business as usual. Come down and help clean up afterwards."

Or, like tonight, "Robert, we're going to be away all night. Big networking event in the Blue Mountains and we'll be staying up there. Look after the house. Try not to fuck things up."

That annoying assumption was always there. A speech impedimentmustsomehow be related to general incompetence in life, right? But Robert could look after things perfectly well, which was never acknowledged. He even kept himself fit on the home gym. He was no longer the runt now: after his big teenage growth spurt, his brothers at least left him alone now physically, but that didn't stop their veiled insults or the looks of disdain.

Mostly, Robert just amused himself in his room. He read alotof books across various genres: gritty crime, escapist fantasies, Regency romances and more. He watched YouTube videos about jewelry-making, pearl-diving and cooking. He did cook in real-life occasionally, particularly for his Mum after she got sick, but there was nobody at home now who appreciated the curries and Asian fusion dishes that she had liked. He fantasised about a better life, of course, but he was going nowhere. In the meantime, he chatted with people online, played games, and tried not to think about the future. There was a lot of stuff that you could do online when real life was too difficult.

He was past school age now, but there was no serious discussion about what was next. He certainly didn't want to join the family business, under the thumb of his brothers and father, doing hurt in the world. He didn't even want to know what it was that they did, but he'd heard enough to know that there was extortion and violence involved. And, without finishing school, his options otherwise were pretty limited.

Things were getting intense in his headset.

"Can somebody shut that fucking ogre down? Where's Paratrooper gone?" The team leader was sounding frustrated.

"They had to go early. They had a thing," somebody else said.

"O..On it," said Robert.

"Thanks, Watcher. Can always count onyou."

Finally, the boss fight onscreen ended in triumph, and the team happily called it quits for the evening.

"'Night, Watcher" said the team leader, and he managed a "'Night" in return, the impediment barely evident.Watcher.He liked the nickname, which they had decided on in response to his ability to observe and deal with things that nobody else did, and to give his insights in short comments. He always stuttered less when he was in his comfort zone.

If only there was something I could do in life that didn't involve speaking or school qualifications,he thought as he took his headset off, stretching in his chair.

He hadn't eaten dinner yet. He would make something like a simple stir-fry for himself: he usually ended up eating alone. His brothers had all moved out now so it was just his father, who was rarely home at dinnertime and didn't want to be around Robert if he was. His Dad had a new girlfriend, who took up a lot of his time. She tried to be nice to Robert, but he knew that she was just doing it for the look of it: she had no real interest in him other than a vague worry about how she would deal with him if she married his Dad.

Robert left his room, walking quietly down a corridor towards the stairs. It was a large, showy house in Sydney's northern suburbs. It took a lot of money to buy respectability in Sydney, but his father had managed to, and they had been living here for the past six years, during his mother's illness and passing. It had been a miserable time, and he had no friends in the area. And lately, the atmosphere around the house had been even worse.

He passed his father's bedroom and then stopped suddenly, sucking in his breath. There was a faint light flickering under the next door, which led to the study. He stood stock-still for a moment, listening -yes, there definitely seemed to be something inside, making faint noises of some kind. Had somebody broken into the house while he was gaming? The motion-sensing alarm was switched off while he was at home, of course, although the doors downstairs were locked.

He retreated back to his room, thinking furiously. Calling the police wasn't an option: the last thing his father would have wanted would be them turning up at the house, all flashing lights and evidence bags. And if he was imagining the intruder, the consequences from his father would be awful. He was better off just trying to deal with it himself. Perhaps he could scare them off.

The gun. Not a real gun, obviously, but a half-convincing imitation that his oldest brother, Damien, had gotten on the black market and given him for his 18th birthday, as some kind of joke. It let out a fart sound when you pulled the trigger, perhaps so that it could be argued in court that it was really just a toy.

"I wanted you to upscale your vocabulary before you join us in the firm," Damien had snarked, while his other brother roared with laughter. "Perhaps you can graduate to a multi-voiced version one day, that does a 'bang bang' sound as well. Or, in your case, 'b...bbb...bbbang'!"

Whatever.The stupid toy might actually be useful now. He retrieved it from the drawer.

Before he could chicken out, he crept back down the corridor, gun clutched in his right hand, and then carefully moved the handle on the study door with his left hand, pushing the door open enough to see inside. He was holding his breath, his heart thumping painfully loudly in his chest.

There was somebody there alright. A slim, Asian-looking woman knelt at the safe at the side of the room, listening intently through a stethoscope as she turned the big dial. She was dressed in variations of black: not in the clothes that you would normally associate with a burglar, but in a short black party dress with some simple lacing patterns running down the back, charcoal tights, and a soft black beret. Her black hair seemed to be in some sort of pixie cut under the beret, but he couldn't see it clearly. She had jet-black sneakers on her feet with dark rubber soles. A large black handbag sat on the carpet next to her, together with what looked like a small tool case. She had black silk gloves on her hands.

She doesn't look too dangerous. But she's trying to rob us. Now what?

There was a quiet click, and the door of the safe swung open. The woman hissed in satisfaction and sat back on her heels, removing the stethoscope from her ears. Robert must have moved, because she suddenly looked up sharply, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of this tall, muscular, dark-haired young man in the doorway, gun pointed. Robert was desperately hoping that she couldn't see the quivering of his hand.

A range of emotions seemed to flash across her face, but then she essayed a smile.

"You must be Robert! I'm Jade, from Jade's Safe Maintenance Services. I'm pleased to report that this one is in excellent working order. Just a quick clean and then I'll be done."

How did she know my name?he thought, but he tried to keep his expression fixed and stern. He shook his head, saying nothing, and her smile faltered. But she tried again.

"You didn't receive our visit notification? I'll have to have a word with the girl in the office. She's pregnant, you see, and she keeps forgetting important details."

He shook his head again, but he realised that he would have to speak at some point. He also switched on the main lights in the room, and she blinked as her eyes adjusted.

"Nnn..oo m...move. I'll s...shoot."

He cursed his treacherous tongue, but he kept the gun pointed at her, shaking only slightly. Her eyes had widened again when he had spoken, but looking at the gun, she answered him soberly.

"Robert, if you shoot me, it will be too late to look up the criminal code and realize that shooting unarmed women, even professional safe maintenance women, is considered to be a worse crime than unauthorized safe maintenance. Then you'll have to waste a lot of time trying to dispose of my body, and that will be really annoying for both of us."

She has a point,he thought, and then remembered again that it was a joke gun, and that he needed to try and keep the initiative his way before she realised that.

"N..not maintenance," he ground out. "B... bburglar."

She nodded, and tried another smile. This time, she did a Cockney accent. "It's a fair cop. You've got me bang to rights, Gov'nr!" She looked down at her outfit ruefully, and switched back to her normal voice. "I guess I should have worn high-vis with my company logo, rather than trying out my 'black ops party girl' look. But I couldn't resist. It's Saturday night, after all, so the high-vis wouldn't have convinced you, and Iwashoping to go straight to a party after this."

Robert shook his head again, trying to keep up with this strange intruder.

"Www.. wrong shoes," he said.

"You're right, Robert," she said earnestly. "It's a real issue in my business, trying to reconcile societal expectations with practicality. Should a glamorous, half-Vietnamese safe-cracker wear comfortable and quiet shoes, or would stiletto heels be more appropriate? I think it's fair to say that I'm a work in progress there, and the shoes are a tangible part of a broader, ongoing conversation."

"But anyway, my argument remains," she continued. "I'm unarmed. My sponsors know that I'm here. Your father and brothers are in the Blue Mountains, getting drunk and embarrassing themselves at a party where some remarkably loose women with appropriately impractical shoes will no doubt be distracting them late into the night. Let's hope that your father's girlfriend doesn't find out, by the way. Anyway, shooting me would be a very poor decision on your part. We need to find another way through."

His hand wavered, mind reeling.

"Hhh..how did you kkn..ow?" he stammered.

"About the party? About you being home alone?"

He nodded. Idly, it struck him that she was one of the few real-life people whom he had met who hadn't made fun of his stammer in some way.

"I'm afraid that I can't reveal my sources," she said. "But I will say that I was hoping that your video game would last a little longer. The security cameras outside are easy enough to deal with, but I needed to do this while you were home so that you weren't have the movement alarms on. I'm sorry that you've been troubled by this. Perhaps I should just shut the safe and leave, and then we'll agree to say no more about it?"

He shook his head firmly, and couldn't resist a small smile at her chutzpah. She was still on the floor, his gun pointed at her, and yet her beautiful elfin face seemed perfectly calm, her wide brown eyes limpid pools of innocence.

She's right about one thing: she's a very sexy burglar,he thought, looking at her outfit again. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs a little, showing the top of her tights on one of her legs. She had a modest bosom, but seemed perfectly proportioned for her size, and her face had beautifully fine features.

She had noticed him looking, and he wondered if she might be preparing to offer some kind of deal. He felt an internal shiver of excitement as he thought this: he knew nothing about women, but perhaps he was expected to demand a sexual favour here in return for letting her go? Was that what his brothers would do?

Just as the idea was trying to form, she shook her head.

"You're a fine-looking young man, Robert, but I don't offer my body at the point of a gun," she said firmly. Her expression was stern, her eyes dark in censure.

He shook his head again, upset with himself.

She's a mind reader. And now what must she think of me?He shook his head vehemently, disassociating himself from the idea that he would force her in that way.

"Nn..o. I wouldn't ask," he said, as firmly as he could.

Abruptly, her expression softened again.

"Your stammer must get in the way of social interactions, Robert," she said, more kindly. "Poor guy. Is it always this bad?"

He nodded his head, then shook it, feeling foolish.

"Nnn...ot always this bad. But aa...lways there."

"Is that why you don't get taken to parties?"

He nodded, but felt the need to explain more.

"Also... tt..they're a..aa..fuckwits!" he managed with a rush. "Parties are a n..nightmare."

She laughed, showing a mouthful of perfect white teeth. "I tend to agree," she said drily. Then she looked thoughtful. "Do you know what's in this safe, Robert?"

He shook his head again.

"Perhaps we could look together? And then you can decide whether you still want to shoot me. Just keep the gun out of my reach so that I'm not tempted to try any heroics. And please make sure the safety catch is on."

Awkwardly, he made a show of checking the fake gun and then sat down beside her on the carpet, gun shoved into his pocket. At this distance, he could smell her perfume, which seemed to contain notes of cloves and sandalwood. She had subtle, dark makeup, accentuating her emo look, but also, he realized, reducing the reflections from her face in the light. The outfit was starting to make more sense. She wore simple, black pearl earrings, set in dark metal.

"N..nice earrings," he said. "T..titanium setting and cultured pearls."

She shot him a quick surprised smile and nodded, then she shone a small torch into the safe. It was very full, with bundles of papers, jewellery boxes, and wads of cash, both new and used.

"Pppp.. passports!" he said, pointing to some blue covered documents.

"Is your passport there, Robert?" she said, reaching a black-gloved hand in to retrieve the pile.

He shook his head. "N..no passport."

She glanced at him. "So,theycould flee the country, but not you." Her voice was tinged with a hint of disgust. She dropped the passports into her handbag, and then reached for the piles of cash, putting them on the floor in front of her.

"Let's decide on that later," she declared, and for a moment he wondered at the way that she was drawing him into her orbit. But he said nothing. He was thinking about her comment on the passports. He had never asked for a passport, but itwaspretty awful that his Dad hadn't bothered to get him one. It wasn't like Robert wouldn't be caught up in any bad business his Dad was involved in.

She retrieved and opened each jewellery box, exclaiming at the quality of some of the pieces, and putting them in her bag.

"My Mum's!" he said suddenly, pointing to an elaborate engagement ring and wedding band.

Jade put the box on the floor in front of him. "Tell me if you recognise any other pieces from your Mum," she said, and he pointed at several more as they came out – a lovely emerald necklace, some sapphire earrings, and then an exquisite necklace of pink pearls.

"From the Top End," he said. "Near Broome."

She looked sidelong at him again. "Do you like jewellery, Robert? Not many young men would have recognised the titanium in my earrings."

"Yes, I do."

"I can hear it, too," she said, and for a minute he wondered what her odd phrasing was implying. Then it hit.

"I didn't stutter!"

"You didn't. I'm no expert, Robert, but perhaps that's something you could explore, if your speech is better when you're in your zone. I know a jeweler. He moved up north, and he told me it's hard to get good apprentices. He runs his own shop in the town, but he also has a workshop at his bush house where he does the more, um, under-the-counter work."

She hesitated, then reached into her bag and took some of the other jewellery out again, placing it in front of Robert.

"I mustn't be greedy," she said. "Your need may be greater."

The safe was empty, but she didn't seem satisfied. She scanned around the room, absently scratching at her chin.

"What's the Pproblem?" asked Robert.

"There's something in particular that I was looking for. Sensitive information. Potentially horrible stuff. I thought it would be in the safe. Could we just extend the truce a bit longer? And then you can decide whether to shoot me, of course.Myaffections and wishes on that subject are unchanged, as Mr Darcy would have said."

Interesting,he thought, trying to ignore her gratuitous Jane Austen reference so that he could focus on the key issues.And disturbing.What didn't he know about his father? He looked around the room himself, then strode over to a picture on the wall: a bland photo of two kittens playing. It was the kind of cute, mass market print that you might style your house with if you have little taste or time.

He lifted off the picture, revealing another small safe hidden behind.

"I'm impressed," said Jade. "You went straight to it. Did you know that was there?"

"No," he said. "But t.the picture has no meaning. Unless to hide. L.like in a videogame. The b..block that doesn't quite fit."

She nodded again. "Perhaps you could learn to be a safe maintenance person like me: you would be good at it." She walked over and looked closely at the safe, which had a simple keypad.

"I think it's just a six digit code," she said. "But it might take a while to crack."

"Ttry 654654," said Robert.

She did, and the door swung open. She raised her eyebrows again at Robert.

"H...his standard passcode," Robert said. "I watch."

"You're making my job easy." Jade reached inside, bringing out a packet of photographs. There was an envelope as well, but when she opened it, there was just a USB stick inside.

"Probably just the backup copy for the photos," she said, and started leafing through them. She sucked in her breath, and her expression hardened. When Robert went to look over her shoulder, she turned away from him.

"Just wait," she said, curtly, and Robert waited, perplexed.

After a minute, she turned back around. Now her eyes were blazing in anger.

"I don't want your fingerprints on these," she said. "Look, don't touch."

She held up some photos, one by one, lips pursed into a thin straight line. He was puzzled, until he started to understand what he was seeing. His father... his brothers... and various others... doing unspeakable things to scared-looking people.