Red Folder

“I've gone and done it, now.” Emily shuddered. She tried to re-read the letter in her shaking hand. How was she to know her innocent actions would lead to so many people being caught for the crimes they had committed. Crimes of scamming people out of their hard earned money.

The document had seemed harmless enough when she passed it on to the security commission in the government. One little document having far reaching effects once the federal agents began their fierce search for the criminals involved in the operation.

“I shouldn't have done it.” Emily moaned over her actions. She wondered if the criminals already knew she had reported their criminal activities. “Yes. You should have,” said the voice in her head. “Don't be a jelly-legged ninny. Stand up. Be counted. Do the right thing for your country,” badgered the voice.

“But. What if the crooks come looking for me.” She shuddered at the thought. “I can dodge harmful words. But. Not live ammunition being shelled at me. These could be detrimental to my health. I don't want to die. Yet.”

“Here we go, again. Thinking of yourself,” complained the voice. “Think of all those people who have been suckered. Taken for a ride. You could...”

“A ride. That's what I'm afraid of. A long. Long ride. Way out into the country never to be seen again. I seafood. But. I don't want to become a fishes dinner if I'm given cement boots. And I don't like water. You know.”

“Chicken,” mocked the voice. “Why don't you go find a cosy hen house. Or a barn where you can hide in the hayloft. Think of all the creepy. Slithering snakes. Moving across the bales of hay looking for fresh meat. Or the rats scampering around looking for a place to hide. The spiders...”

“Okay. Shut up.” Emily yelled. She was fed up with the annoying voice. “Go find someone else to terrify. Someone who will appreciate you horror stories.” She shivered. All those grizzly scenes flashed through her mind. “This has to be a joke. Someone is trying to play a practical joke on me. Ha. It won't work.” She thrust the letter into the envelope. Tossed it in the nearest draw hopefully to be forgotten. But. Knowing the red folder existed of evidence was a constant reminder the federal agents were coming to knock on her door. She prayed the agents did arrive before the criminals.

Emily. Literally. Became an ostrich. She buried herself in work to forget the snowball she had set in motion. She worked until she had become exhausted. To be able to forget for a short time. When the knock, finally, came to her door danger echoed through the house. She nearly jumped out of her skin. Every creak of the old house scared her. Her nerves were would so tight she was ready to scream.

She tiptoed to the nearest window. Tweaked back the curtain to look out the window. A strange car was parked at the front of her house. Did it belong to a friend. Or a foe, dashed through her mind. Taking a deep breath to try to calm her frazzled nerves, she made her way toward the front door.

She unlocked the door. She slowly opened it enough to see the men standing on the front porch. She watched to see if they were going to make any sudden moves.

“Federal police. Are you Emily Watts?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Can I see your ID. Can't trust many people, these days.” The both of them produced their ID.

“What do you want me for. What have I done?”

“We've been given some documents you sent to the security agency of the Reserve Bank. We'd like to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay. Go around to the roller door. I'll open it for you to enter.” They looked at Emily like they believed she wouldn't open the door to let then into her home. She shook her head at the look of disbelief in their eyes. “I'm not stupid. Just cautious. And I don't have spare money to replace my door if you have to break in.” She closed. And locked the door. She made her way through the house to the kitchen. She picked up the remote from the table to open the roller door. The door slowly rose to allow the agents to enter the garage. Walk up the steps to the kitchen.

“Have a seat, Gentlemen.” Emily walked into the lounge room to collect the red folder with the evidence. “You took your time coming to collect this,” she told them, after she had placed the folder on the table.

“You were expecting us,” said a surprised agent.

“Sure. When the letter arrived to say the documents had been handed over to the federal police.”

“We may have rang. Or sent you a letter to ask what else you were able to tell us.”

“You have to be kidding.” Emily gave a jerky laugh. Relieved. She had handed over the information. “I was worried the bad guys would arrive before you. And if there is still and in house criminal in the security agency, the crooks may have been alerted to suspend their operations. Scram. Or clean up the loose ends.”

“What else do you have for us. We need to know how you came by these documents.”

Emily opened the red folder. She pulled three stacks of clipped sheets of papers. She spread them over the table. Explained what was in each heap. “This is the one you know about. Here are e-mails in my name from banks I've never heard of. This last heap shows someone has been using my e-mail to ship money from place to place. These people come by their money from credit card fraud.”

“How do you know that,” an officer looked at Emily with suspicion. Like he thought she was more involved with the scheme then she had told them.

“Computers are great for researching. You keep looking until you excess the right site to gain the information. Credit cards should come with a “Quick Sand” warning. You keep being sucked in to spending money you don't have.”

“What're you going to do about the crooks. I have spoken to one of the guys on the phone. If you need any help to catch the slime-balls I'd be willing to help. Don't want to wait for them to decide I need to be disposed of.”

“Do you watch a lot of crime shows on television?” He tried hard not to smile at her expression.

“Writers need to have an interesting, calculating imagination. You only have to watch the news to write an interesting story.” Emily waited to hear what happened next. She felt relief now the documents were being taken from her care.

“Right.” A sly smile crossed the face when he looked toward his partner. “So. You think you can think like a criminal.”

“No. I can only imagine what a criminal might do. But. My mind doesn't stretch to what most of them do. Or believe they are able to get away with without being caught. I believe those who do the crime should do the time.”

“We'll take all this back to Canberra with us. We'll try to find these people.”

“I hope you catch them all. I don't have time to do the time for something I didn't do.” There are too many family, and friends, counting on me to be around to help them Just e-mail me if you need more help. I'm sometimes hard to contact. Use the name 'Megheira' and leave a number where you can be reached.”

“Why 'Megheira'? Does it have some special meaning to you?”

“A long past relative. Hope you find the culprits.” The agents replaced the documents into the red folder. Emily walked to the garage door. Watched them walk out to their car. Once they were in the car, Emily closed the roller door.

A few weeks later, Emily was checking her e-mails when she found one she hoped never to receive. The week had been full on. She had to go out every day. Came home late to cook her meal then fall into bed. Exhausted. There had been no time to fit in any catnaps to recharge the tired, aching muscles.

Emily lifted the phone. She began to punch in the numbers she read from the computer. She waited for her call to be answered.

“Star Security. Glen speaking. How can I help you?”

“This is Magheira. I had a message to call.”

“Sorry. Those members are out on a job at the moment. I'll have them call you when they return.”

“Thank you.” Emily replaced the phone. She went to the kitchen to set about making a meal.

Emily tried to stay awake. To wait for the call. But. Tiredness over took her exhausted body. She collapsed on her bed. She slept from the moment her head touched the pillow. And closed her eyes. Deep in slumber. She took a long time to realise the phone rang. Slowly. She surfaced enough to reach out an arm to grab the phone.

“Hello,” Emily mumbled into the phone.

“This is agent Sykes. Sorry to call so late. But we've been out rounding up some crooks. We've been watching them for awhile. They are in custody. Maybe they will tell us more about the racket they have been running.”

“That's good. What about the ones in America. And England. Have they been caught?”

“We have people watching them. None of them have made any sudden moves to leave. Once they know the ones this end have been taken out of the operation there might be some action.”

“You will let me know if there are any further developments. If there is any thing I can do to assist...”

“Depends on who Kerry implicates to try to weasel her way out of trouble. We may need your help to confront James. When he hears you voice...”

“You mean by phone.”

“No. In person. We'll...”

“You know where he is operating from?”

“He's a barrister. Works for a Mister Jones who lives in England.”

“Is there a money trail. Or has it all been a hoax. Did the money reach Australia. Or have they been sending the money out?”

“That is some of the questions we will be asking.” A loud yawn was heard by Agent Sykes. “I'll go ask some of those questions while you catch up on your sleep.”

“That would be lovely.” Emily replaced the receiver. She was soon asleep.

Agent Sykes smiled. A week had passed since he had spoken to Emily. He punched in the numbers for Emily. He had a feeling he'd be dragging her from her bed. The phone rang. And rang. He began to think she wasn't at home.

“Emily,” she mumbled into the phone.

“Megheira is closed. The case is still on going though. We have...”

“Agent Sykes. I love talking to you too. But when I'm awake. Do you enjoy waking me from a. Beautiful. Dream.” Emily sighed. “I was about to...”

“Huh. I think I'm too young to hear...”

“crawl out of my comfortable bed to have a drink. You have a nasty mind, Sykes. About time you changed you job.”

“My job has just saved your butt. We pulled in the nets in each country. We have them all. We hope.”

“I hope you do. I don't want cement shoes. I would like to see a few more sunrises. Pray some fairy will deliver me a pot of gold.”

“I'm not wearing a tutu. But. You'll receive a small donation toward you pot of gold for services to your country.

“I will.” Emily sat up in her bed. “I could kiss you Sykes.”

“My wife doesn't like to share.”

“Good for her. Happy adventuring, Sykes. I might try for one of your dreams now I have some money.” Emily laughed. She replaced the phone to the spluttering from Agent Sykes.