Stakeout

Day 1

Something rather weird happened tonight - while I was out in Paceville, I took a shortcut through the stairs on ‘Strip Row’, and I saw that creep Daniel Savona standing in the entry to ‘Sensations’. I think that was the name; these clubs all seem to have similar names - Sensations, Steam, Angels, Darlings....

He might have been on duty, but somehow I don’t think so. He was chatting with another guy like they were mates. He had a drink in one hand, and a girl’s arse in the other. My impression was that he’s a regular. Hmmm... that could be interesting; a cop dropping into a strip club to unwind, after a hard day’s work. Then again, Daniel’s a slimy creep, so maybe, I shouldn’t be surprised.

Still though, he’s a police officer - isn’t there some rule about cops hanging out in places like that? I mean, if he were to bust that girl he was with, it could constitute conflict of interest. I actually need to check this out. 

Day 2

I asked auntie Google, and she turned up the Malta Police Force Code of Ethics - revamped and re-issued this year apparently. It makes reference to something called ‘conduct unbecoming’ but then does not go on to specify what that would be. 

‘Conduct unbecoming Malta police force’ only yielded a few complaining letters to the local papers, all signed with pseudonyms. For the purposes of research, I read all four of them - all complaining about officers either being too brusque or too keen to write parking tickets. I didn’t know police officers still dealt with parking offences; I was under the impression that had been outsourced to traffic wardens. 

Haha.. at the end of the code of ethics there’s actually an address where ‘an aggrieved member of the general public may file a report for unethical behaviour allegedly committed by a police officer’. I wonder, has anyone ever used that email address - somehow, I cannot see too many people willing to put their name to an official complaint. And if anyone has, have they ever gotten a reply.

I wonder what really happens when the Professional Standards Office of the Police Force becomes aware of possible ‘conduct unbecoming’. I know I’m more than slightly biased, but I do not trust them to not ‘protect their own’.

Day 3

I thought I could let it go. I thought I could forget about seeing Daniel in a strip ...ahem, gentleman’s club. After all, Paceville is hardly my scene anymore. I was only there the other day because Martina asked me to meet her there after work. And Daniel gives me the creeps, ffs. Why would I want to run into him again?

But nah, I can’t help my stupid self.. and here I am two days later, incognito, lurking on the Strip Row stairs. I’ve been up and down them about six times already. No sighting of Daniel yet - thank god for small mercies - but the club is definitely ‘Sensations’. I remember the elaborate cornicing over the doorway, because it reminds me of my nana’s house. Only hers was the real thing; this is probably some cheap polystyrene crap. 

Maybe I’m on a wild goose chase. Maybe he really was on duty, and the other day, he’d simply run into someone he knows. And even if he is a regular here, what does that mean?

I’m uncomfortable; straightening down my denim skirt, and trying to look ordinary, all the while being careful not tumble over my heels. Already two men have asked me if I’m looking for ‘a good time’ - this is beyond absurd; I’m going home.

That’s when I see him - he’s on the steps up to the club, with a group of men, and two women today, his hand draped across the shoulders of one of them, openly groping her chest. I wonder, how does she keep so impassive. As the men all clink bottles, Daniel looks in my general direction, and I shrink into the shadows, afraid he might see me. I needn’t worry. He might be looking but his attention is elsewhere. 

I hurry past and head home.

Day 4

I’ve been thinking about it all day. Daniel definitely is at home there. As I went past last night, he called to someone inside, and seconds later, another girl materialised at his side, holding a tiny tray with a tumbler of whiskey on it. 

Okay, so he hangs out at a strip place. So? The code of ethics doesn’t specifically list that as unethical behaviour. And don’t most men ogle scantily-dressed women, either in real life, or on a screen? It’s not as if I didn’t know Daniel’s a class-A sleaze. 

I open the fridge, looking for something to eat. There’s fresh veg. I did my weekly shop the other day, before I met up with Martina. But I’m not in the mood for veg. I don’t know what I’m in the mood for. My mind keeps going round in circles. And coming back to the same thing.

A glimmer of a feeling, intuition maybe, that there’s more to this. But what? 

And for heaven’s sake, why am I so stuck on it? On Daniel?

I know, I know. I’ve never liked the guy, ever since he tried it on with me, while we were both at work. 

It was one of our fundraisers, and he was on security duty. As fundraising manager, I was responsible for the housekeeping of the day, among other things, and I’d briefed him about what was where. A few hours later, I was pinning up some winning tickets to the board near the exit, when I felt someone grope me. I turned, ready to smack the creep, only to find the uniformed cop I’d been briefing earlier. I was lost for words. What cheek! He didn’t even care that he was conspicuous in his uniform. He didn’t offer an apology either; instead he’d said he’d been thinking about me all that time.

Now, I wonder if my intuition is not just my antipathy towards Daniel. Am I just imagining things? Is it just because I know him to be creepy? Am I making more of this than it really is? Oh heck!

Day 5

I spent all day going over and over my thoughts. Still no clarity. 

I need to do something about this; if I don’t, it will just eat away at me. Of this I’m certain. But what? 

~~~~~~~~~~

Thank god for Brian. I called him, explained what I needed, and he was up for it. Wouldn’t miss it, he said. He even called off a date, to come with me.

And here we are, me in my loosest-fitting jeans, and an oversized hoodie. I’ve squeezed my chest into the tightest bandau top I could find. With some artful contouring, I’ve given myself what looks like a somewhat manly jaw. The usually muted (‘sensuous’) lighting in the club and my buzz cut - it seems to have been enough for us to look like a pair of blokes looking for a good time. I paid for my entrance ticket. 

There’s girls everywhere.. girls taking orders, girls bringing drinks, girls giving lap dances, girls gyrating around poles. The patrons are all men, in all shapes and sizes, and ages; unlike the girls who are all slim, pretty and young, some younger than me. The gender divide couldn’t be more stark.

I remind myself I’m meant to be a guy, and look like I’ve been to places like this.

I keep my eyes peeled for Daniel. I really want him to be here tonight. But I am also scared he’ll recognise me.

Brian complains that the price of the drinks has gone up. I’m bored. 

Then I see him - like the last time I saw him, Daniel’s wearing a suit. He walks up to one of the tables, and exchanges a few words with the men. He gestures to one of the girls, and she hurries over, tablet in hand. While she’s taking orders, Daniel palms her arse before moving on. The same thing happens as he moves from table to table, chatting, groping, joking. 

‘That is not someone who’s just hanging out,’ Brian’s voice cuts into my thoughts. ‘That’s someone with an interest in seeing the customers satisfied.’ 

Suddenly, I just need to leave. I’ve had my fill of this tawdry club with its pretense of classiness

Before going to bed, I open up the link from the Code of Ethics and using my untraceable email account, fire off a complaint about How I think it is unethical behaviour for a police officer to hangout in a club like that one.I sign off with a man’s name. 

Day 6 

I called in sick today. Truly, I feel sick.

Last night made me, as a woman, feel like I was living in a different dimension. It made me feel sullied somehow. I showered the minute I got in last night, and again this morning, and I still feel it like a layer on my skin.

Brian is sure Daniel has - how shall I put it, a ‘business interest’ in the club. 

I wonder if someone has read my email from last night. I have no reply, not even an acknowledgement of receipt. Would I have gotten a response had I mentioned a stake in a strip club? Would that be ‘in line with the Force’s Business Interests & Additional Occupations Policy’?

Brian thinks we should go again, and get pictures. I think Brian just wants to go there again. I think we need something more substantial than photos taken on the fly in a dimly-lit club.

I need some sort of proof. Who can I ask to get the info I need? 

Day 8

Pay dirt! After a day of digging into various dead ends, I remembered that my friend Tanja works at the Business Registry Office. And today, she came up with the goods. The club is registered to a company called Magick Entertainment; which is in turn, owned by three people, one of whom is Daniel Savona. The other two are both sitting MPs; one on either side of the House. It makes sense, really - given the polarised and volatile nature of Maltese politics, Daniel would want to have partners on both sides of the political divide. It’s how a lot of Maltese businesssmen ensure their business ticks over, regardless of who wins elections.

Tanja even sent me a copy of the relevant documents. She knew I’d want them. This is bigger than what I thought it was a week ago.

So, now it’s official - this police officer does have a stake in a strip club... how interesting is that?

Day 9

Rachel, my editor, wasn’t too impressed when I told her about Daniel, and his stake in a strip joint even though I quite laboured the point on potential conflicts of interest. But she sure sat up when I revealed who Daniel’s business partners are. That got her all fired up.

Really, I should have thought of it myself.

Considering that both of Daniel’s partners are very keen on pushing their ‘family man’ image, the news that they part-own a strip club should make quite a bit of noise.

I’m kicking myself - I should have thought of it; I would have thought of it, if I hadn’t been all laser-focused on Daniel. I need to get a grip. My antipathy for Daniel is personal. Personal is not work. Personal doesn’t pay my bills. Work does. I need to focus. 

Although, now that I think of it, writing about the politicians could have a knock-on effect. One thing leads to another, and all that. 

Now to settle down to write my piece. Deadline’s tomorrow.

Day 10

And.... it’s online. I did my best. Fingers crossed this will generate the response I’m hoping for.