Undercover Agent 6

I had one failure in my career as an undercover parrot.  Josh Hemmingway. Josh was a known villain, his gang of pulled off a number of robberies and other crimes. As with the other marks, I was placed in his house, posing as his daughter’s new pet, but while there Josh had nothing to say. Not because he’d worked out my covert role, nor because he was planning his jobs in a special secure environment.

No.  It was impossible to intercept his plans because he didn’t have any. Everything he did was spur of the moment, an opportunist robbery because he’d heard a rumour that security was weak in a particular company, or sometimes just because somewhere came up in conversation and josh said, “Hey, why don’t we rob that place.”

There wasn’t any meticulous planning once a target had been set. Just a couple of days walking visiting the site. Any success was due to the often-overlooked fact that waving a gun in an employee’s face is sometimes more effective than months of intricate planning and subdefuge.

When I was swapped out of the house after four months surveillance I had literally nothing to report. I could confirm a couple of jobs that had taken place within, but my evidence couldn’t be used in court. I had nothing else. Loot was sold on by Lenny with the instruction: ‘just do your stuff with this Lenny’. And there were no secret meeting places or lockups or getaway plans, any rendevouz would be a sponteous ‘hey, let’s go down the Elm Tree, they’ve got that 11% cider on’, but no police force in the world had the budget to bug the sheer number of bars they might end up in.

I thought about Hemmingway as I flew out of the police station window. I had nowhere to go. I was a wanted parrot, every cop in the area would be looking for me. And I had no friends, the pet shop owner was Denton’s brother in law, and every house I’d ever been a pet in had ended in their arrest.

With one exception. Hemmingway was the only family I hadn’t betrayed. The only place in this wide world that I would be welcome.

I had never flown to Hemmingway’s house, but I have a near-perfect special awareness and located it easily.  The lounge window was open, so I flew in. There was nobody there, but the parrot’s cage was there, with my replacement still within. I still had the feather I’d used in my escape, so I perched on the outside cage and picked the lock.  

Joey, the parrot inside the cage, wasn’t keen to leave the cage, but I gave him one of my stares and he soon fled. I took my place on the perch and waited.

It was Hemmingway who discovered me, and as might be expected, he didn’t notice that there was a different parrot in the cage and did not seem surprised to find the cage open.

“Hello Polly, looks like someone’s opened your cage,” he said.

This was ridiculous.  If I didn’t take the initiative I was going to be stuck as the family pet for the most useless villain in the country for the rest of my life.

“Actually I opened the cage,” I said. “I’ve swapped places with the parrot that was in here.”

Hemmingway looked at me uncertainly. “Why would you do that?” he said.

“I’m on the run from the police,” I said. I quickly explained my situation, that I had been spying for Inspector Denton, but had stumbled upon his covert crimes. 

“You should call a meeting of your gang,” I said. “Discuss how to use the information I have on Denton.”

Hemmingway called the gang meeting. He explained the situation. 

“We should hand him in,” one of the gang suggested. “We could ask the cops to go easy on us in return."

“Don’t be a fool,” I said. “With me out of the way you’d be the only people left who knew about his corruption. He’d stamp on you with a ton of force.”

“The parrot has a point,” said Hemmingway. “Denton doesn’t know we have the parrot, we can use his knowledge and Denton will have no idea.”

“How can a parrot help,” one of the gang asked.

I explained the situation with Bussman, the corrupt cop who had been Standfast's stooge, and how Denton was planning to pressure him with the info they'd gained. "We can do the same," I said. "With a friendly contact in the drug squad we can move into Standfast's turf as well."

"But we don’t have the file," one of the gang protested. "We can’t put pressure on Bussman if we don’t have the file."

"I’m the file," I said. All of the evidence is what I overheard and I can re-squawk it for you. You just have to write down, make it look official. I know his bank accounts, his dealers, where he keeps the drugs, everything the cops chose to overlook. A leak to the right journalist and it’ll blow up.

“My wife’s an audio typist,” said Barron. “She can type straight onto a laptop.”

With my help, Hemmingway’s gang were able to put the squeeze on Bussman and take over elements of Standfast’s empire. But that was just the start. Hemmingway’s gang had lacked a plan, they needed a leader. Luckily, through my experience, I was well versed in the ways of crime, and with my encouragement, Hemmingway was able to slowly take over the criminal enterprises in the area. I had become a master criminal.

Yet no matter how much money we all made, I could never find the high quality seedcake that Denton used to feed me. It’s the only thing I miss.