Supergirls and Stupid Men Ch. 01

They had five suitcases, two dead Russians and a dead Sandy Spiffle to deal with.

"What do we do with the other chick?" Pete pointed at Alena.

Harlan raised his pistol and pointed it at Alena.

"We can't leave any witnesses," he said tonelessly.

"I'm Olena's friend. I can help. I can be good," Alena said in a thick Slavic accent.

"What do you think?" Harlan asked Olena.

Olena shrugged.

"She's ok I guess," Olena studied a split nail carefully.

"Can I have her?" Pete grinned at the pretty girl who instantly recognised an ally when she saw one.

She smiled back at Pete and winked.

"Ok but she's your problem," Harlan lowered his pistol.

"She's not my only problem right now brother," Pete tugged at his shirt.

The expanding stain of fresh blood was hard to see on Pete's black shirt but blood from the wound was dripping on the floor.

"I'm pretty sure it's just a graze but anyway let's get going," Pete hefted a suitcase in one hand and beckoned Alina to come to him which she dutifully did.

"You take one of those other suitcases sweetheart," Pete nodded at the cluster of cases.

Harlan and Olena picked up the remaining cases and carried them downstairs.

Harlan opened the front door to the club and looked out. The streets were still silent and deserted.

"What about the camera footage?" Pete grunted, his wound was starting to sting.

"Well we were supposed to put a gun to Sandy Spiffle's head and make him erase it or at least show us where the computer is where the video is stored but someone decided to get all hot and bothered and now he's fuckin' dead," Harlan cursed.

"Fuck the footage. We got masks on. Let's get the fuck outta here," Harlan kicked open the door and the two men and two women struggled across the street with the five suitcases full of cash.

*****

Jennifer started at Katerina's ankle and used her tongue to trace the dark seam on the back of her stocking along her leg up to the gauzy welt where she stopped briefly.

Katerina wriggled her ass invitingly, a little annoyed that Jennifer had stopped.

Most women undressed for bed. Jennifer Jones and Katerina Kuznetsova actually dressed for bed. They were both wearing black, sheer, fully-fashioned stockings clipped to black and red satin and lace suspender belts, four-inch black high heels, black and red see-through nylon panties and nothing else. They were both wearing heavy makeup and swathed in Dior Poison Perfume.

Jennifer continued her journey and lapped at the dark silky welt of Katerina's stocking and then she moved to the other welt and tasted that. Jennifer was tiny and she was able to straddle Katerina, putting her body on Katerina's legs whilst rubbing her cock on Katerina's calves.

Katerina loved having her petite lover lie on top of her like this; her tongue licking and lapping at her thighs and her hard flesh pressing on her legs. Butterflies of delight radiated from wherever Jennifer used her tongue and Katerina's sex was becoming moist in anticipation.

Jennifer nipped and played her tongue over Katerina's soft buttocks through the delicate fabric of her panties and Katerina opened her legs a little in anticipation of what she knew was coming next.

Jennifer teased her lover. Instead of putting her tongue on Katerina's sex, which she could smell was ripening, she continued to nip and slather her creamy buttocks and stroke her nylon-swathed thighs with her fingertips whilst grinding her cock against her calves.

Katerina moaned and wriggled, trying to coax Jennifer to move her face to her sex, she opened her legs a little wider and Jennifer would see the dewy droplets of Katerina's vaginal secretions clinging to her vulva through the transparent panties.

Jennifer moved her tongue between Katerina's legs and licked at the gusset of Katerina's panties, pressing her tongue on her pubis. Katerina growled and rolled over and opened her legs wide.

"I win," Jennifer giggled.

"Shut up and do that again," Katerina sighed.

Jennifer eased aside the gusset of Katerina's panties and lapped at her labia, pushing the tip of her tongue inside the folds of Katerina's mound and finding her clitoris with the tip of her tongue. Jennifer had been teasing Katerina for nearly an hour, bringing her to brink of climax and then backing off. She decided that Katerina had earned her orgasm.

Katerina entwined her hands in Jennifer's hair and pressed her face into her cunt, raising her buttocks off the bed. Jennifer licked and softly nibbled Katerina's clitoris and lapped at her vulva; she drove two fingers into Katerina's swollen, musty cunt being careful of her nails.

Katerina's body convulsed in a paroxysm of pleasure as her long-delayed orgasm coursed through her body. Jennifer could hardly breathe as Katerina pushed her face into her sodden minge. Jennifer sucked up Katerina's juices as she drove her fingers deeper into Katerina's tight vagina. Jennifer's cock was throbbing in anticipation and she lifted her face from Katerina's crotch.

Katerina whined for only a second before Jennifer scrambled up Katerina's body and thrust her engorged throbbing member deep into Katerina's buttery quim. She kissed Katerina deeply and as Jennifer drove her cock in and out Katerina's tight young flesh. Katerina wrapped her stocking-sheathed legs around Jennifer's; their nylons whispered and whished as they rubbed together.

Katerina could taste her cunt on Jennifer's breath, their lipstick smeared and their bodies pressed against each other as Jennifer impaled Katerina on her huge phallus and Katerina willingly held her lover close as Jennifer rutted against her. The sensual intimacy had given way to rampant lust as the two women ground against each other, wresting pleasure from their partner.

Katerina's orgasm peaked just as Jennifer drove her cock all the way inside her and ejaculated, grinding her pubis into Jennifer's fiery crotch to elicit as much pleasure as possible from her bruised and sensitive clitoris. They clung to each other, writhing and shaking, kissing and clawing until their orgasms slowly subsided and then they held each other, caressing each other gently, kissing each other softly, whispering terms of endearments.

They fell asleep in each other's arms having kicked off their heels.

Sometime later Jennifer's valet and personal bodyguard Peter Small knocked on the door to her bedroom.

She knew that Peter would not disturb her unless it was important.

"Go and shower and change and meet me in the office," Jennifer smacked Katerina playfully on the buttocks and pushed her towards the ensuite bathroom.

Jennifer slipped into a satin robe and padded over to the bedroom door and opened it a crack.

"The counting house in Balwyn," Peter looked discretely away as he spoke.

Not that Jennifer cared. Peter Small was as gay as a Boy Scout jamboree.

"How much?" Jennifer asked.

"The Bratok for the southwest, Pavel Ivanoff, isn't sure yet. He's calling together his lieutenants to get some idea how much cash was delivered to the counting house but he thinks its north of ten million," Peter sniffed.

"Law enforcement?" Jennifer asked.

"All over it I'm afraid Ma'am," Peter sniffed.

Jennifer thought briefly about the situation and then smiled wickedly.

"Have the jet prepared. Give me fifteen minutes and then get Ivanoff on the secure line in my office. This is something I need to take care of myself," Jennifer said.

"Indeed Ma'am; I thought so. I took the liberty of ordering the jet fuelled and lodging a flight plan to Balwyn Texas," Peter said in his clipped British accent.

"What is it?" Katerina asked when Jennifer joined her in the waterfall shower.

"One of my counting houses got hit. Don't get your nose out of joint but this is something I need to take care of myself and I need you here to keep everything else running smoothly," Jennifer pulled Katerina into her embrace and kissed her.

"I'm not like you Jennifer. I'm not trained in that part of the business but should a Pakhan really be out in the field doing that kind of work? What about the Bratok? Isn't that what they get paid for?" Katerina stroked Jennifer's back.

Katerina was as tall and lithe as her mother and towered over Jennifer. Katerina had to lower her face to kiss Jennifer. But Jennifer Jones' petite stature had caused many a man to underestimate her lethality and most of those men were dead.

The boss and her Girl Friday took a minute to kiss and cuddle under the shower. An attentive observer would have noticed that they both had matching scorpion tattoos just above their left ankles.

Jennifer was dressed in her Dior short-skirted navy power-suit with a white silk blouse and Louboutin heels and sat behind the modern steel and glass desk she had had installed to replace the ancient wooden relic that her predecessor was so fond of. She leaned back in her modern office chair with the phone to her ear and listened to Pavel Ivanoff trying to justify to her why her counting house had been hit.

She assured him that all would be made well because she was on her way to Balwyn Texas to take care of the matter herself and he was to join her there. Peter had booked two suites at the Balwyn Hilton and she would see Pavel there in a few hours.

Jennifer kept herself busy during the flight attending to other business matters and talking and texting Katerina who, although she had only been Jennifer's PA for two years, had everything under control. Katerina was a quick learner and knew that even though she was Jennifer's lover as well as her Girl Friday, if her performance wasn't up to standard, she would soon be replaced.

*****

Penelope Bishop arrived at Supergirls just after dawn. She parked her BMW across the road from the club and alighted and saw her partners Steve Edwards and Silvia Bickle standing just inside the crime scene tape drinking coffee and chatting.

The Balwyn PD Special Task Force was odd mixture of police professionals put together by the Chief of Detectives Gary Rasmussen.

Sargent Silvia Bickle was forty two, slim but powerful and was wearing her signature dark-grey pantsuit, dazzling white blouse and polished black low heels. Her makeup was perfect and complemented her flawless caramel complexion; loose black curls cascaded to her shoulders. A native Texan, Silvia was a proud African American lesbian and had been Penelope's partner and best friend for many years.

Steve Edwards was the newest member of the Task Force. In his mid-thirties, he was tall, handsome and laconic; comfortable in his handsomeness and quite the flirt. He was married to Balwyn's famous drag queen Felicity Goodnite whose legal name was Felicity Benson. Felicity became famous by appearing on RuPaul's Drag Race. She didn't win but she gained a cult following internationally and people made the journey to Balwyn just to see her perform at her clubRide em' Cowgirl.

As well as being a drag performer Felicity was transgender and she and Steve were very much in love and trusted each other but for convenience had agreed to an open relationship whenever Felicity was on the road performing; the caveat being that Steve was not to fuck any of the queens atRide em' Cowgirl nor Jill Graham, the new manager of the club. Jill was one of Felicity's best friends and a trusted employee but Jill and Steve had a chemistry that was far more than just the ribald banter they engaged in whenever Steve was at the club.

Penelope was wearing her usual charcoal skirt-suit with a crisp white blouse and high heels, heavy makeup and flesh-toned sheer pantyhose. Her weight had fluctuated over the years and she had battled with the booze on and off but she had been sober for a few years. She was far from skinny but she carried her weight well and was mostly lean except for her bosom and buttocks, both of which had had work done on them over the years. She wore her hair down and despite being forty four years of age she still turned heads with her long legs, blonde hair and big green eyes.

Gary Rasmussen and Penelope Bishop went way back. He had handpicked Penelope to lead his Task Force over the objections of other senior police officials; she was still not popular with some of the hierarchy.

Penelope had history and came with considerable baggage. Her first year on the force she was a whistle-blower who had found the men who had killed her father and brought down the Chief of Police and several highly placed political figures. She had become a brilliant detective and solved several cases, often putting herself in extreme danger to do so. She had worn out two marriages and was currently living with Jaylene Foster, a fashion designer who made a good living, initially designing and constructing gowns and costumes for Felicity Benson and the queens atRide em' Cowgirl. Then Jaylene had become a popular designer throughout the drag scene and made gowns for many of the famous queens.

Gary Rasmussen was close to retirement and Penelope was the hot favourite to replace him.

Gary pulled up behind Penelope in his old Crown Vic which he steadfastly refused to trade in on a newer model car. Gary came from an age when cops smoked twenty Tareytons a day, drank their whisky neat, wore cheap suits off the rack and wore comfortable shoes.

He put a cigarette in his mouth and offered the pack to Penelope knowing that she had been trying to quit for years. Penelope shook her head and led Gary across the street to join the other detectives. Gary checked out Penelope's long legs appreciatively because he was the kind of man who believed that it didn't matter where you got your appetite so long as you ate at home. Besides, as beautiful as Penelope was, she was still packing a pistol in her panties and that was not Gary's thing although he did sometimes wonder what Penelope and Jaylene got up to in bed. Did they toss a coin to see who would be on top?

"What have we got?" Penelope waved hello to Silvia and Steve.

"Looks like murder in commission of a robbery," Silvia said, opening her note book.

"Sandy Spiffle, the manager. Thirty-five year old white male, deceased. Gunshot wounds to the head. Two other unidentified deceased males with multiple gunshot wounds and a shitload of shell casings and bullet holes in the walls and ceiling," Silvia referred to her notes.

"Can you better define 'shitload'?" Gary asked.

"Two of the deceased males were carrying pistols which had been fired. The shell casings and bullet holes came from a number of different weapons but the crime scene guys will be able to give us a better appraisal," Silvia replied.

"It's like the gunfight at the O.K. Corral took place up there," Steve added.

"The O.K. Corral is in Tombstone Arizona. This is Balwyn Texas Steve," Penelope didn't like it when Steve was flippant on the job.

"Yeah and the guys killed at the O.K. Corral didn't look like extras from The Boondock Saints," Silvia quipped.

"What does that mean?" Penelope asked but she felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

"See for yourself," Silvia shrugged and led the entourage to the door leading into Supergirls.

Just inside the door was a counter usually manned by the doorman-cum-bouncer and the crime scene unit found it a convenient place to set up. Penelope signed into the crime scene and put on the Tyvek boots and surgical gloves provided by Alice Leasingham, a member of the CSI team who was seconded to the Task Force when needed.

Alice was brilliant at her job and she abhorred those CSI TV shows where glamorous men and women wore Armani suits, sported coiffed hair and had large calibre weapons slung on their hips, never put on PPE at crime scenes and solved crimes in thirty minutes by using zillion dollar futuristic machines in which they dropped a single hair sample.

Up until a while ago Alice seldom wore makeup. She used to be a curly faired, freckle-faced young woman whose normal attire was skinny-jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt and Nikes. She went unarmed when processing crime scenes and although she had a police issued weapon she seldom wore it.

All that changed during a case where Alice met a Ukrainian civilian named Katya Kuznetsova who was assisting the Task Force. Alice was immediately attracted to Katya and developed a huge girl crush. It wasn't sexual, Alice just loved the way Katya looked, spoke and presented herself confidently and since then Alice had mimicked Katya's style.

Alice's dyed jet black hair was cut into a severe bob which accentuated her hazel eyes. She was wearing a tailored burgundy business suit cut to accentuate her small breasts and long legs which were clad in gossamer-sheer nylons. Her face was pale and freckled and she wore heavy eye makeup and blood-red lipstick. Her high heels were locked away in the crime scene processing van and she wore Tyvek booties over slip-on flats.

"They came in through the front door?" Penelope pointed at the double doors at the club entrance.

"They used a snap gun to pick the doorlock. One of the girls had come down earlier and unbolted the barrel-bolts at the top and bottom of the door. There's a No Cash Held On Premises After Hours sign on the door and security isn't that tight so it might be true. There is no alarm system," Alice answered.

Penelope pointed at the security cameras and raised an eyebrow.

"That's how we know one of the girls unbolted the door. There are cameras everywhere as you might expect in an establishment like this but interestingly enough the cameras in the room where most of the action took place are turned off," Alice continued.

"It's amateurish to leave behind video footage of the crime," Steve interjected.

"The two male perpetrators wore masks and gloves. You should have no problems identifying the two female accomplices. The two unidentified deceased males are a different story," Alice gave Penelope a knowing look and the cold shiver reappeared.

"I'll have video from the surveillance cameras copied and brought to the Task Force office and we can go through it in detail. Myself and Bob just gave it a cursory onceover to make sure it was useable," Alice led the three detectives through the club, past the VIP booths to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms.

"If you remember Penelope, Dan and Katya came here to interview two prostitutes during the Alexi Reznik case," Alice said over her shoulder as she led the way.

Silvia and Steve gave each other exasperated looks. They were away in Austin when the Reznik case took place and everybody that worked on the case spoke about it in awe and wonder. One again Penelope Bishop had walked away the heroine.

Penelope said nothing and the entourage stopped at the top of the stairs.

Plastic tiles had been laid out down the corridor to preserve evidence. Sandy Spiffle lay crumpled up on the carpeted floor and beside him a thin man in a dark suit lay dead, a pistol still clutched in his hand. The tattoos on the pale skin of his neck, wrists and hands could be seen even from this distance. There were multiple shell casings on the floor and bullet holes in the wall.

"Sandy Spiffle, the manager, was shot twice in the head at close range and the suit beside him was shot three times in the chest," Alice said as they approached the last door on the left carefully stepping on the tiles around the bodies.

"We found this on Sandy Spiffle's body," Alice held up an evidence bag with twenty thousand dollars in it.

They all squeezed into the small room where they found Bob Tanner, Balwyn PD's CSI team leader and Brendan Scott the medical examiner hard at work.

"Ah... my three favourite ladies and the illustrious Steve Edwards," Bob Tanner smiled up at them as they entered and indicated the tiles that the CSIs had placed on the stained carpet to prevent cross-contamination.