Go Out With A Bang! Read Online Free

experience, but had strong
computer skills.'
    'One
moment.' The Chief pressed the old fashioned intercom button on his
desk. 'Monica. Do you have that list D C Ducket made up of people
he was training? Good. See if you can get a couple of them over
here as soon as possible. No. It doesn't matter which ones, just as
long as they can come over right away. Thanks, Monica.'
    'Thanks,
Chief,' said Morris.
    'I'm
holding you responsible for this. Keep an eye on them.'
    'Understood, Chief.'
    Two
hours later, Jordon Fletcher and Trish Bailey were drooling over
the hi-tech equipment. They were two of the Ferret's fan
club.
    'I'm surprised they aren't
wearing “We love the Ferret” T shirts,' whispered Crowe.
'And they are detectives? How old are they? Twelve?'
    Morris
said, 'Young enough to understand their way around this stuff. And
yes. Both are detective constables, both fast tracked. Be nice to
them. A few years from now, we'll be calling them sir.'
    The
youngsters were oblivious to the senior officers in the room. They
had fired up the computer and were in deep discussion using words
that may well have come from another language as far as Crowe and
Morris were concerned.
    'Think
you can get in there?' Morris asked.
    'This is
pretty wicked shit,' said Trish Bailey.
    She was
petite and slightly mousey looking. It was hard for the worldly
detective to imagine her being part of fighting crime in the real
world, physically dealing with the lowlife. But he was a dinosaur,
like Crowe had said. Slamming crims against a cell wall when the
duty sergeant was on a tea break. Dodging bullets, playing good cop
bad cop. Surely there was a happy compromise?
    It was
what made Ferret special, unique. His forte may be in cyberspace,
but he had a talent for cutting through the crap of a case and
using logical deduction, see answers that were obvious to him but
like a revelation to others when he came out with them. The
equipment, the computers and all the bells and whistles could be
replicated. Gifted young people could get the most out of it. But
to be Ferret's? Not in a million years. They needed Ducket
back.
    Fletcher
said, 'He has put codes, security, passwords, unique firewalls and
other things in here we never even saw before. Ferret is a
genius.'
    Crowe
snapped, 'I thought you two were bloody genius's, too. Can you get
in there or not?'
    Jordon
Fletcher scratched his blue permed hair and said, 'We can do
this.'
    Crowe
wanted to slap him. Instead he growled, 'Then bloody get on with
it.'
    Morris
dragged the big guy away so the youngsters could work. 'Pull your
head in. Did you find any paperwork that might help us?'
    'Ducket had an aversion to the
handwritten word. Like an allergy, or something. You know what I'm
thinking? If he'd wanted us to find him, he'd have left a clue. One
even we could understand. It wouldn't be in an obscure teaser. It
would be lit up in neon lights.'
    Morris
considered that. 'Are you saying he doesn't want us after him? He
would have known we would be trying to find him.'
    Crowe
said, 'The lack of a clue is a clue in itself. It's Ferret's way of
saying back off and give him some space.'
    'So we
don't look for him?'
    Crowe
shrugged. 'Stan. We have been told by the Old Man himself to find
Ferret. They nearly had us disciplined before. If these kids find
anything, so be it.'
     

Chapter 8
    'Uncle
Bernie. It's been four whole days. Where the hell is
he?'
    'Hey.
Calm down. I have Morris and Crowe onto it as a priority. Now, I'm
not taking no for an answer. You are coming to stay with me and
Debbie for the time being. Grab a few things.'
    Poppy
shook her head. 'I can't, Uncle Bernie. I have to be here in case
he comes home.'
    'He'll
find you, wherever you are. Come on, start packing.'
    Poppy
knew her uncle wouldn't be leaving her alone this time. She packed
a case, grabbed her laptop and phone and followed him to his
car.
    Debbie
Sefton, Bernie's partner, had moved in with him. She was waiting
with open arms for