Counterfeit

By Kelly Wood

Synopsis:

Title: Counterfeit

Author: Kelly Wood

Warnings: Some language

Canon Characters: Peter Caine, Kermit Griffin, Blake, Mary Margaret Skalany

Original Characters: Sophie Li, Virginia Li, Ayaas, Noura, Catherine and Bob Wilcox, Mr. Smith

Timeline: Sometime in fourth season before "Wreck'em"

Summary: A sequel to an earlier story "A Father's Place" now found on Terri T's website at http://geocities.datacellar.net/Hollywood/Studio/5748/kftlcweb.html

Peter gets into trouble again when his young friends discover a mystery at their school.

The characters from Kung Fu: the Legend Continues are owned by Michael Sloan and Warner Brothers. They're not mine, but Sophie, Ayaas, their parents and the villains are. No harm was intended in borrowing them for a short time.

Counterfeit

By Kelly Wood

Part One

Peter Caine sighed as he looked at the stack of folders on his desk. Crime seemed to take a holiday during cold spells, and lately, a deep-freeze had descended upon the city. The young detective supposed he should be grateful that there were fewer victims suffering, but he was too immersed in updating the paperwork of dozens of unsolved cases to take notice right now.

"A bad one?" A voice interrupted his thoughts. Mary Margaret Skalany was standing beside his desk, a sympathetic smile on her face.

Shaking his head, Peter smiled back. "Nah, more of the same. No new clues. Basically, I'm looking up each of these files in the computer, then writing 'no new facts'. It's..."

"Discouraging?" Mary Margaret supplied. "Frustrating? Maddening?"

"All of the above," Peter threw down the folder he had in hand and looked over at the clock. "It appears it's time to go home," he said, with mock surprise. "Would you like to join Kermit and me at Delancey's for a beer?"

"Hmmm...I would, partner, but..." Skalany grinned, looking at something over his shoulder. "I don't think you're going to have time."

Peter looked confused. "What?"

Mary Margaret nodded towards the door. "You have company."

Turning around, the detective looked. "Hi Peter!" a dark-haired boy walking his way yelled, waving enthusiastically. The girl behind him just grinned shyly, eyes shining under straight black bangs.

"I don't see any parents," Skalany sang under her breath, "Ten to one they took the bus."

"From Rosedale? If they did, it was the *last* bus," Peter groaned, running a hand through his hair.

"And *that's* why you'll be busy," the dark-haired detective said, her eyes merry.

The kids dodged a large biker waiting to be booked and ended up at Peter's desk. "Hi Peter," Ayaas said again. "Hey, did you see that guy over there with the pierced eyebrow? There were seven earrings in it! Do you still call it an earring if it's not in your ear? And there was a woman in the front who..."

"Hi Peter," Sophie said, poking Ayaas in the side to shut him up. "How are you?"

Peter grinned, watching as Ayaas took a deep breath and stuttered to a halt. "Hi Sophie, Ayaas. What brings you kids down here?" In the months since he had met these two, they had stayed friends; dropping into the station every few weeks, having their parents invite him to dinner.

"Well, we have a case and..." Ayaas broke off with a squawk and glared at his friend.

Sophie smiled innocently, putting her foot back on the floor. "We have some things we wanted to talk to you about."

Peter frowned at Skalany, who had put her hand over her face, trying to disguise an unladylike snort. "What kind of things?" he asked warily. Ayaas opened his mouth, looked at Sophie, and closed it.

"Just...things," Sophie said vaguely, twirling her hair with one finger. "Do you want to go to dinner with us? We have some money...if you pay for it, we could pay you back later."

"I have to go, uh, talk to Kermit," Mary Margaret said in a strangled voice, jumping up.

Peter dourly watched her hasty retreat, noticing that she had headed down the hall away from the resident computer expert's office. "Coward," he muttered under his breath. He turned to the two faces staring expectantly at him. "Sit down," he said with a sigh. He watched as Ayaas grabbed one of the nearby desk chairs and plopped down in it, scooting across the floor to his desk. Sophie perched on the corner of T.J.'s desk behind his. "Are your parents waiting for you outside?" he asked hopefully.

"Actually, my parents think I'm at Sophie's, and her parents think she's at my house," Ayaas answered absentmindedly, spinning around in the chair. "Oops," he stopped abruptly, turning red as both Sophie and Peter glared at him for very different reasons. "Well, we knew they wouldn't let us come see you alone, and we had to talk to you," he explained hastily.

Putting his head in his hands, Peter groaned. "Why me?" He looked up. "Did you tell anyone you were coming here?" With obvious reluctance, both dark heads moved slowly from side to side. "How were you planning to get home?" Ayaas looked at Sophie. Sophie looked at the ground.

"We were planning to take a cab?" Sophie asked of a particularly interesting spot on the floor.

Peter looked from her guilty expression to Ayaas's studiously wide-eyed innocent one. "I don't think so. You just said you don't have enough money for dinner. You figured I'd drive you home, right?"

Uneasily, they glanced at one another, then nodded. Peter tried to look stern. "Do you know how much trouble you could have gotten yourselves into? Coming into the city alone, without telling anyone?" He put one hand on the phone, pushing it towards the girl. "Both of you are going to call your parents right now and tell them where you are."

"But they won't let us stay!" Ayaas protested, yanking on one curly lock of hair.

"We really do need to talk to you," Sophie said softly, meeting Peter's glare.

He looked into the puppy-dog eyes and didn't crack. "Fine, we'll be in the car as I'm driving you home. You can tell me then. But I'm not going to go along with this...this...deception. What if someone tries to reach you? They'll be worried sick. First, you call your parents."

"All right," Sophie said, meekly taking the phone.

Peter turned to Ayaas. "You're next."

"Okay, okay. Sheesh!"

********

Part Two

The detective listened to less than a minute of Sophie trying to explain to her mother that she and Ayaas were with him, without telling where she was or how she'd got there. "Give me that," he finally said, exasperated. "Hi, Virginia," he said into the receiver. "This is Peter Caine. Sophie and Ayaas are here at the precinct with me." He listened for a minute. "No, they took the bus.... No, I didn't know. ...That's okay. I can bring them home...No, I'll wait."

He sat leaning back in his chair, tapping a pencil on the desk, gaze on the kids. They squirmed, looking everywhere but at him.

"Yeah, I'm still here. They did?" Peter frowned, and Sophie peeked over at Ayaas, who shrugged, obviously as clueless about what was happening as she was. "No, don't change your plans.... I was just going to go home, don't worry about it..... We can grab something to eat and head out there. ...That sounds fine. Have fun, and don't worry about us...." Something must have been funny, because he chuckled. "Oh, don't worry. I'll be happy to tell them.... See you soon." The young man placed the phone in the cradle firmly. He looked at his two young visitors, waiting.

Ayaas cracked first. "What happened? You'll tell us what?" the boy asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Peter looked at them. "That you're grounded for three weeks, starting tomorrow." Ayaas's face fell; Sophie looked thoughtful.

"Why not until tomorrow?" she asked. She tilted her head to the side, waiting for an answer. Peter shook his head; she was definitely quick.

"You don't give up, do you?" he asked. "Since your brother is at his friend's house, your parents decided to take advantage of you being gone and go out. They have tickets to a concert." The detective turned to Ayaas. "While I was waiting, Sophie's mother called your mother on her other line. Since *your* brother is away with his basketball team for the night, your parents have dinner reservations and plans to go to a play."

Peter's voice became serious. "If you had gone home, no one would have been at either house. And if I hadn't been here, you would have been stranded in the city with no one to come get you." He let them think about that for a minute. From the expressions passing over their faces, he hoped they were thinking about what could have happened.

"Uh, this wasn't the smartest thing we've ever done, was it?" Ayaas asked, chewing on his thumb.

"Nope." There was a short silence as both children avoided his eyes.

"We won't do it again," Sophie finally assured him. "We've learned our lesson."

"Um-hmmm..." Peter's reply was deliberately non-committal. He believed they thought that...until the next time. Sophie squirmed under his gaze.

"So, if nobody's home, what are we going to do tonight?" she asked, obviously trying to change the subject. Ayaas sat up straighter, his eyes bright with curiosity.

Amusement filling his eyes, the detective answered. "We're going to Sophie's house, and I'm going to stay with you until her parents get home."

"All right!" the irrepressible Ayaas cheered. "Can we stop and get something for dinner? I'm hungry."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long discussion about the merits of Mexican versus Thai cuisine, they ended up with takeout pizza at Peter's apartment. Sophie and Ayaas claimed they were too hungry to wait to get home. They chose Peter's apartment because both children insisted that they had something important to talk about...something they didn't want overheard.

Peter had let Ayaas order the pizza; he was a little dismayed to open the box and find pepperoni, sausage, bacon, black olives and pineapple topping his favorite Italian restaurant's concoction. Ayaas was eating with enjoyment, but Sophie had a little pile of pepperoni and sausage on the plate in front of her. Peter wasn't too sure about the pineapple mixed with the other toppings, but it didn't taste any worse than some of the things he made when cooking, so he ate it. The kids talked about school and their trip to the precinct.

He and Sophie finished before Ayaas. "So, what was the important thing you wanted to talk about?" Peter asked, starting to clean up the plates and napkins. He watched as the kids exchanged a look.

"My mouth is full," Ayaas said. "You tell him." He took a big bite, chewing with exaggerated mouth movements.

With an irritated look at her partner in crime, Sophie complied. "After we got kidnapped with you, we went into the detective business ourselves." She hesitated, studying him through her bangs, to see how he would take the announcement.

"You went into..." Peter repeated. His head started throbbing as he had a vision of Sophie and Ayaas in trenchcoats following a determined criminal. "Detectives?"

"We're good ones," Ayaas stated proudly. "We found out who was stealing money from people's lockers, and who stole the trophy from the office, and that Buzz and Stevie Mayer were the ones painting graffiti on the bathroom walls. And now we want to find out..."

"I thought I was telling this story," Sophie said, her hands on her hips.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

Peter watched the interplay with a kind of disbelieving fascination.

"We've solved lots of cases, besides the ones Ayaas mentioned. We even have an ad in the school newsletter," the girl said, boasting just a bit. "Besides what Ayaas told you, we also found out who was shoplifting in the school store. That's when we discovered the fake money."

"And when we heard that it was found all over town, we decided to find out who was making it," Ayaas said, unable to stop from jumping in.

"Fake money?" Peter repeated, trying to remember if he'd heard of any counterfeiting cases recently. Nothing came to mind. He scowled and held up one hand. "Look, if you two want to be detectives, stick to the school," he said, thinking that at least there, they'd have teachers around.

"Counterfeiting isn't kid stuff," he continued, his tone patient. "If there is fake money around, it's being made by adults, and I don't want you anywhere near them. You could end up in a dangerous situation..." Peter closed his eyes, reluctantly picturing the situation they had been in a year ago.

"We're fifth graders now, Peter," Sophie said kindly. Peter opened his eyes to glare at her.

"Yeah, we can take care of ourselves," Ayaas nodded. The boy flinched as the glare was transferred to him. "And anyway, we think it *is* kids," he added hastily.

Feeling like shaking some sense into them, the detective instead shook his head. "You need special ink, a press, plates, government-made paper...it can't be kids."

"All you need is a computer with a scanner," Sophie said, disagreeing. "And a really good printer. And our computer lab has that."

"Mari Lurie told us that her big brother Sam gave her a fifty dollar bill, and it was fake. So we think he's in on it. He's in high school, but he comes to our school to teach a computer class." Ayaas's eyes were shining with excitement.

"Wait a minute," Peter said, his tone sharp. "Let me see if I've got what you're trying to say. Your friend Mari's brother gave her a bill that was fake, so you think he's making money on a computer in your school?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds dumb," Ayaas said, kicking at his chair.

"Yes, it does." The young cop sighed, looking at both kids' crestfallen expressions. He was sure there was nothing to their observation, but... "Look, to make you happy, I'll check up on these counterfeiters...IF, and only if, you two promise to stay away from Mari's brother. Do you promise?"

"I promise," Sophie said promptly. She nudged Ayaas.

"What? Oh, yeah. I promise too."

"Good. Now why don't you get your coats, and we'll head out to Sophie's house." It wasn't until much later that Peter realized that the kids' agreement had come way too easily...and he actually hadn't made them promise not to go after the counterfeiters.

**************

Part Three

Peter arrived at the station late the next morning. He slunk over to his desk with a quick look at Strenlich's office. While he was often late, it was usually somewhat justifiable due to a case. That excuse didn't apply today.

"Get lost on your way home from Rosedale?" Skalany asked with a smirk.

"Rosedale?" Peter asked, trying to sound like he didn't know what she was talking about. After turning on his computer, he pulled the stack of files from the day before out of his desk. With a theatrical sigh, he opened the first folder.

Skalany laughed out loud. "Rosedale, Peter. Sophie...Ayaas...no bus...sound familiar?"

Peter scowled down at a copy of an arrest warrant. "All right," he admitted. "I brought them home."

"Tell me more..."

"There's no more to tell."

Skalany studied his face and shook her head. "Come on Partner, I know that face...something's bugging you. What did they want to talk to you about?"

"I should have known you wouldn't give up either," Peter muttered. He put down the folder in his hands and picked up a pencil. He started tapping it almost immediately. "Have you heard anything about a recent surge of counterfeit bills?" he asked.

Mary Margaret looked surprised at the apparent change of topic, but willingly answered. "I think so. Fake fifties and twenties...they've been found mostly in the suburbs. Something came in about it a couple weeks ago, when you were on the Martin case." She got up and perched on the edge of Peter's desk. "So...what does that have to do with your little friends?"

Dropping the pencil, he ran a hand through his hair. "Nothing, I hope. Ayaas and Sophie have decided that they're qualified to be detectives. They started out with little cases at school...but now they're after the counterfeiters."

"Peter!"

"I know, Skalany," the tall detective said with irritation. "It's ridiculous. There isn't any evidence-their whole theory of proof rests on some kid in their class getting a fifty from her brother, which was fake."

"Yeah, well, if my brother had given me fifty dollars for nothing, it would have been fake too," Skalany remarked, a frown creasing her brow.

The uneasy feeling was back. Peter shuffled the folders around into different piles on his desk while Mary Margaret watched. "They think the counterfeiters are operating from the school's computer lab," he burst out. "It's obviously ridiculous."

"How do you know they're not right?" his partner asked, looking concerned. "Those kids are way too smart to make up an entire story out of one incident."

"Skalany. The whole thing is dumb. Kids wouldn't be involved. I don't want to talk about it any more. Don't you have work to do too?" he asked pointedly.

The pretty detective slid off his desk, but didn't go back to her own. "What if they are onto something?" she asked. "If you ignore them, can you live with the consequences?"

"I told them counterfeiters would be dangerous...I made them promise not to do any more investigating." His brow furrowed as something tickled at the edge of his consciousness, but he pushed it away.

"Oh, that'll help," Skalany said sarcastically. "Those kids listen about as well as you do."

Peter ignored her comment, second thoughts getting the better of him. "No one could fake bills in the middle of a busy school. Could they?" Picking up a pen, he clicked it rapidly. "I know you have to have special paper and ink, but..."

Mary Margaret smiled. "Well, our resident computer expert is in. Why don't you ask him?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Kermit...?"

"I'm busy." Green glasses reflected the glow of the computer screen. "Don't you know that a closed door means 'do not disturb'?"

"Kermit, your door is always closed."

The dark-haired man's eyebrows shot up. "Well, shouldn't that tell you something?" He sighed and watched as the younger man ignored his best glare, closed the door behind him, and walked across the small office to stand before his desk. "You're not going to go away, are you?"

"Nope." Peter looked stubborn.

"Fine." Kermit turned back to the screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard, ignoring the younger detective pacing his office. From past experience, he knew Peter couldn't keep quiet for much longer.

"What do you know about counterfeit bills?" Peter asked, stopping to pick up a plastic puzzle from the desk.

Resigned to the conversation, Kermit leaned back in his chair, considering. "Forging money is one of the oldest crimes in the world. It's also one of the least successful for the majority of the people that try it. U.S. bills are harder to fake than..."

"I don't want the history," Peter interrupted him. "I want to know if you know of any are circulating in this area right now, and if kids could make fake bills on a computer that would pass for the real stuff."

"Hmmm..." Turning back to his computer, Kermit opened a new program. Peter watched as he typed in a few commands, humming to himself. Within minutes his face reflected success. "Bingo. Counterfeit fifties and twenties...most found in this area in the past three months. They've connected the bills with some found at a couple ski resorts in New England as well. These guys are smart...the bills are dated pre-1990..."

"What's so special about 1990?"

"You haven't been paying attention to Inter-departmental Memos," the man in glasses chided. Peter still looked blank. "Do you have any money in your wallet?" Kermit asked with another sigh. Peter pulled out his wallet with a flourish. "Look at the dates on your bills. If you've got one of the new twenties, ignore it."

Patiently, he waited as the younger detective did so. "The old ones are all 1995 or 1997."

"That's not unusual. Now hold one up to the light. See the strip on the left, imbedded in the bill? It's a security thread-almost impossible to fake. All of the higher denomination bills since 1990 have that thread."

"Huh," Peter said, staring at the bill.

"And you can't really see it without a magnifying glass, but the outside ring around Jackson's picture isn't actually a line, it's microprinting. Tiny letters spell out 'The United States of America'. It's very difficult to copy, the print becomes blurry and indistinct."

"And before 1990?"

Kermit frowned. "Copiers, printers and scanners weren't as advanced then. When you copied money, the fine lines and cross-hatching blurred and became fuzzy."

"But today's scanners and printers are better."

"Yeah...which is why the Treasury instituted the new security measures. The stuff on the new bills is amazing."

Peter put the money away and tucked his wallet back in his pocket. "So it's possible that the fake bills out there could have been made with a computer?"

"It's probable that they were," Kermit agreed. "That would be why they copied older bills; they tried to avoid the new security measures. Where are you going with this, Peter?"

Peter was pacing again. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn't hear the other man's question. "Could kids have done it?"

Frowning, the older detective considered. "Well, I'd say it was highly unlikely. Even if they had a really good computer, it's difficult to duplicate the texture of U.S. bills." Turning back to the computer, he scrolled down the screen. "From the reports here, it looks like the first bills found were on store-bought paper...good, but not the right quality. The stuff circulating now was forged on specially made paper." Reaching under his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It could be that kids started it, but now there have to be some adults involved. Since they didn't steal it from the Treasury, someone had to have connections to have the special paper made at a manufacturing plant."

"Damn!" Peter said, coming to a halt. "Can you print out those reports for me, Kermit?"

"Just don't let anyone see them. You'd have to do an awful lot of explaining about how you got them...and I don't particularly want to have anyone taking a close look at my computer." The detective pressed a button, and information started printing out. He looked at Peter's worried face. "What kids are we talking about?"

"Sophie and Ayaas," Peter said, watching the sheets falling out of the printer.

"Sophie and Ayaas are forging U.S. currency?" Kermit's skepticism was plain. "What for--lunch money?"

Peter looked up at that. "No," he said, exasperation tingeing his voice. "They think they've discovered counterfeiters in their school computer lab. I didn't believe them at first, but the more I learn... Well, it does sound like it's at least a possibility."

Kermit looked grim. "Even if...and that's a big if...kids are making these fake bills, Peter, they've got adult assistance. Your little friends are in way over their heads. Did they have any kind of proof?"

"I don't know," the younger detective said, his voice troubled. "I didn't really listen. To be truthful, I thought they were making it all up."

"Knowing your persistent little pals, I'm sure they have something to go on. Are you going to talk to them?"

Peter nodded absently. "They don't get out of school until this afternoon; if there is something happening at the school, I don't want to meet them there."

"Don't," Kermit agreed. "There should be some word on the street..."

"Maybe Donny Double D's heard something," Peter said, brightening. He checked his watch. "I have plenty of time to find him."

"Good luck kid. If you need something, you know where to find me."

"Oh yeah. Thanks, Kermit."

************

Part Four

Donny Double D proved relatively easy to locate. Peter found him at home, cleaning.

"Lula's gone to visit relatives, Pete," he said glumly. "And I have been charged to keep our abode immaculate."

Peter looked around at the empty pizza cartons, beer bottles and chip bags. "I don't think you're succeeding Donny," he said with a laugh. "Did you have a party here or something?"

"A small celebration seemed to be in order," the shorter man said with dignity. "After all, it is not every day that one's spouse decides to depart, albeit temporarily." The dignity was somewhat marred by the pink apron wrapped around his waist.

Peter raised his eyebrows and looked around at the mess.

"She's coming back tomorrow," Donny admitted with a sigh. "You know Lula. If this place doesn't match her idea of what immaculate should look like, she'll be grabbing my shirt and shouting 'You little weasel!' I tell ya, Pete...matrimony isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Trying to keep the grin off his face, the detective murmured agreement.

Donny wasn't fooled. He put down the feather duster. "You're not here to listen to my domestic dilemma. What's up Pete?"

The detective removed a cardboard box from the couch and sat down. "Counterfeiters. What have you heard about the recent spread of bills in the area?"

Lowering himself into the arm of a chair, Donny shrugged. "Not much. I don't know who it is, if that's what you're asking."

"Have you heard anything? Rumors, whispers, anything?"

With a frown, Donny scratched his chin. "There was something..." he said slowly. "When the first batch of bills went around, they didn't fool many people. Word on the street was that some rich kids made them on their daddies' computers." He looked alarmed as Peter jumped up and started pacing. "They looked good, but felt wrong," he explained, trying to soothe the overactive detective.

"Anything else?" Peter asked, his voice tight.

"Nope. Just that someone was looking for the forgers, in order to make a deal with them." The snitch flinched at the glare he received. "The copying was excellent, Pete," he explained. "If they were done on the right paper..." Donny looked reflective. "And I guess they must have found each other."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because Lula received a bogus bill in payment last week at the restaurant. She knew it was a fake right away." Donny looked proud. "Not many people would catch it, but my Lula has an excellent eye."

"And?"

His snitch shrugged. "And nothing, Petey. But I looked at it, and I think I would have been fooled. The paper quality was very close, and the print was exceptional."

Peter ran a hand through his hair. "And you definitely don't know who's doing it?"

Donny Double D shook his head. "Wish I could help you, Pete. But I really have no idea," he said regretfully.

The detective nodded. "Do me a favor Donny. Keep your eyes and ears open, and if you do see or hear anything, get in touch with me immediately."

"Will do."

"Thanks." Peter smiled and pulled out a bill--the same one he had held to the light in Kermit's office. "Here. Use this and hire a maid. We wouldn't want Lula to strangle you when she does get home."

Donny grabbed the bill. "Hey, thanks Pete! I'll be in touch."

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