Wired
written by: Peter Rehn
Bernard leaned back in his chair, a confident smirk on his face. He looked around his lavish home, one built on the back of his corrupt dealings as a councillor, approving projects for personal gain. Bernard needed the money to maintain the image of power.
He sized up Frank, sitting opposite him, a builder ready to grease his palm generously.
Frank could barely sit still. The hidden microphone weighed a ton on his chest. Every second felt like hours. He couldn’t believe how easily Bernard was buying into his act. What if the police took too long? “I’m just here to make a deal. Nothing more,” he lied to himself.
Bernard sipped his single malt, watching as Frank’s hand trembled, the man struggling to hold his drink steady. “Why so nervous?” he thought.
Frank could barely breathe. Was Bernard catching on? “I don’t want to be here,” Frank thought, but he couldn’t leave. Not now. He needed this deal to happen in order to avoid prison and ensure that Bernard ended up in one. “Just breathe, Frank,” he said to himself.
“I can get the council to approve the plans,” Bernard said.
Frank heard Bernard talk, but the words didn’t register. Quivering in his seat, he glanced towards the door, wondering when the police would burst in.
Bernard sensed something was off in the way Frank behaved. Was he hiding something? He felt his chest tighten slightly.
***
Outside Bernard’s house, detective Chief Inspector Fraus was listening in on the conversation. Frank had agreed to cooperate for a more lenient sentence. The fraud charges against him were serious.
DCI Fraus was ready to arrest Bernard as soon as he had enough evidence. They were getting closer with every word out of Bernard’s mouth.
“Bernard,” Frank said nervously, looking at Bernard, too nervous to look into his eyes. “You said you have no problem getting the planning permission approved?”
Bernard stared at him. Had he not listened? Ignoring that, he said, “That’s right. I can get that done for you, given you’re prepared to scratch my back.”
“Sorry Bernard, but how? I just want to make sure my investment doesn’t fall flat, if you know what I mean?”
“I’ve done this plenty of times, Frank. My people at the council, they don’t get paid enough, you know? They’ll be happy to take a little extra.”
“How much, Bernard?”
“A cool half a million transferred to my Cayman account will get us going.”
Bernard sensed a shift in Frank, and his chest suddenly felt tighter.
***
Outside, DCI Fraus team sprang into action. With an enforcer, they burst open the door to Bernard’s house.
Heavy footsteps echoed as they made their way towards the study.
Bernard froze as the team marched in and he looked quizzically at Frank, before the tightness in his chest became too strong. Bernard fell from his chair. Glass splintered as the tumbler fell from his lifeless hand onto the parquet floor.
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