Molly's Boudoir: the 4th Jasmine Frame novel (Jasmine Frame Detective)

by P R Ellis

  ‘I didn’t need to ask much once they knew I was a police officer. Most of them had something to say. Obviously, a fire in the main street and a death was of interest but few of them knew anything specific about Molly’s or Evelyn Bunting. The proprietor knew her though. He said she came in for a coffee now and again and he knew she wasn’t a real woman.’

  ‘Did he know what type of business Evelyn ran?’

  ‘He just thought it was some kind of clothes shop for trannies, but he insisted that it was all very discreet and that the shop wasn’t a problem especially as it was right at the top of town.’

  ‘So, if this coffee-shop owner is representative of the businesses in town they weren’t too concerned about what Evelyn was getting up to behind her tasteful shop window.’

  Sasha shook her head. ‘Molly’s USP isn’t obvious from the window displays. I never took any notice of it and none of the customers in the coffeeshop seemed to either, or at least didn’t want to admit to knowing.’

  Tom sipped his coffee which was still hot despite Sasha having carried it up the street.

  ‘So, what do we know then?’ he asked.

  ‘We have the owner of the premises, dead,’ Patel began.

  ‘Killed by a blow to the head with a heavy, blunt implement,’ Tom added. ‘and she is transgender but what that means in Evelyn Bunting’s case I don’t know. Her dress and that thing around her genitals – what does that mean?’

  ‘I don’t know, Sir, but she was married or had a partner.’

  ‘Ah, yes. Where is Mrs Bunting? Harriet, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, Sir. She wasn’t in the house when the fire service arrived and she hasn’t returned yet. None of the neighbours knew where she might be.’

  ‘But we’re fairly certain that the fire was deliberate.’

  ‘Yes, Sir. The Chief Fire Officer thought it was probably started in the front and that an accelerant was used. I think he means petrol.’

  ‘So, we have an arson, a dead owner and a missing wife.’ Tom noticed a large Volvo draw to a halt behind his own car. ‘And we have DCI Sloane to answer to,’ he added.

  The DCI hauled his grey bulk out of the newly arrived car and with a few large strides, joined them.

  ‘Good morning DI Shepherd, DC Patel. I understand you are running a murder investigation.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Suspects?’

  ‘None yet, Sir, although the deceased’s wife is absent.’

  Sloane glared at Tom. ‘Absent? You mean you don’t know her location?’

  ‘That’s correct, Sir. She apparently left before anyone responded to the fire alarm and has not returned. We haven’t discovered where she went.’

  ‘I see. Do you have a description?’

  ‘Yes, Sir. No photos of her yet but some of the neighbours…’

  ‘Good. If nothing else she needs to be informed that her husband is dead.’

  Tom bit his lip. ‘Um, yes, sir. Actually, I’m not sure that husband is the right word.’

  Sloane frowned. ‘Partner then. Is the dead person a woman?’

  ‘We’re not sure of her gender identity, Sir,’ Tom replied noting the muscles in the DCI’s neck tense. ‘Physically the body is male but she apparently dressed as a woman most if not all the time.’

  ‘A transvestite.’ Sloane snorted the word. ‘Looks like you had better have some words with Frame.’

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ Tom nodded.

  ‘And I suggest that one of you gets some rest. I believe you’ve been up all night.’

  ‘Yes, Sir, that’s correct Sir.’

  ‘Well, carry on, Detective Inspector. I want this case cleared up as soon as possible. Sounds as if the wife should be able to provide the answers when you have located her.’ Sloane turned and strode back to his car. He got in, started the engine, reversed a few feet then did a swift three-point turn and drove off down the street.

  Tom watched the receding car with DC Patel.

  ‘Well, Sir. It looks as though the DCI is letting you run the investigation.’

  Tom took in a deep breath. ‘It does, doesn’t it, and the first thing to do is for you to go home and get some rest. We’ll meet back at the police station at…’ he glanced at his watch, ‘One p.m. when I’ve found out who else Sloane is assigning to assist us.’

  ‘Thank you, Sir.’

  Tom walked around his car and opened the driver’s door.’

  Patel called out, ‘What are going to do now, Sir? Don’t you need a bit of sleep too?’

  ‘I’m going to do what both Sloane and Dr Winslade suggested – have a chat with Jasmine Frame.’ He got into his seat.

  The brief ring on the doorbell made Jasmine jump from her bed. She grabbed her dressing gown and wrapped it around herself, covering her nightdress, then hurried down the stairs, just wincing slightly as she strained her groin muscles. The silhouette seen through the crinkly glass of the front door immediately revealed who her early morning visitor was.

  She opened the door with a cheerful greeting, ‘Hi, Tom.’

  Tom appeared a little confused as his eyes flicked up and down her clothes. ‘Hi, Jas. Look, I’m sorry if I got you up.’

  ‘You didn’t. I was still in bed but I’ve been awake since before Viv went off. He likes to get to work early.’

  ‘That’s good. I’d pressed the button before I thought that you might still be um, convalescing.’

  ‘I am, but it doesn’t mean I’m stuck in bed all day. Come in, it feels pretty chilly out there.’

  Tom stepped inside the door and once Jasmine had pushed it closed he followed her into the lounge. She watched him looking around, taking in the comfortable and smartly furnished room.

  ‘Have a seat,’ she said, ‘Coffee?’

  ‘Uh, yes please.’ Tom settled onto the sofa stretching out his long legs in front of him. Jasmine took in his heavy eyelids and the way that he slumped.

  ‘You look knackered. Have you been up all night?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve had anything to eat, have you?’

  ‘Er, no.’ The mention of food seemed to come as a surprise to Tom.

  ‘Toast do you?’

  ‘Mmm, yes, thanks.’

  Jasmine went through to the kitchen-diner put the kettle on and dropped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. She put coffee into a couple of mugs.

  ‘Nice place you’ve got here.’

  Jasmine turned around to see Tom leaning against the doorway.

  ‘Yes, it is, but of course, it’s Viv’s place really. I’m just the lodger.’ She poured the boiling water into the mugs and added milk and sugar to one which she handed to Tom. The toast popped.

  ‘Lodger? I thought it was a bit more than that; you and Viv.’

  Jasmine felt herself blushing. Although she knew that she and Viv were a couple, that they were even sharing a bed, she still felt uncertain about what other people thought, even people she knew as well as Tom.

  ‘Well, yes, we are, but it’s still Viv’s house, at least for now.’

  Tom’s eyes wandered around the well-equipped kitchen while Jasmine prepared the toast.

  ‘Well, you’ve done well, the two of you.’

  ‘I like it. Viv does too although he grumbles that we could have got a bigger place up where he comes from.’

  ‘Birmingham?’

  ‘That area. Here.’ She handed the two slices of toast on a plate to Tom.

  Tom took the plate in the hand not holding the mug. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ll have the next slice. Go and sit down and eat.’ She shooed him back into the lounge where he resumed his seat on the sofa. When the next batch of toast was ready she joined Tom. She picked up one slice and dropped it onto Tom’s plate.

  ‘There, I’m sure you can manage three.’ She settled herself down in the chair and picked up her own plate.

  ‘Mmm, thanks.’ Tom said through a full mouth. He examined her.

  ‘
There’s something different about you Jas. Your hair?’

  Jasmine reached for her locks of hair that almost touched her shoulders. ‘I’ve let it grow since before I went into hospital. I’ve never had hair this long before; not my own anyway.’

  Tom swallowed, ‘I’m sorry Jas. I should have asked sooner. Hospital, operation. How are you?’

  Jasmine smiled. ‘I’m fine. Getting there. I hope I don’t look too bad. Of course, I haven’t put any make-up on yet this morning…’

  ‘No, no, you look great. But your op. You had it, er, all done?’

  ‘Yes, Tom. I’m now the woman I wanted to be with all the correct bits.’

  It was Tom’s turn to flush.

  ‘Mind you,’ Jasmine went on, ‘I felt like wanting to die afterwards.’

  ‘Oh, was it bad then?’

  ‘Indescribable. I would have got myself hooked on morphine if the nurses had let me. You know, Tom, despite all the preparations and reading about other tee-esses, the pain and discomfort after the op was still incredible.’

  ‘You’re better now?’

  ‘As I said, getting there. Moving about and walking is getting easier but I still get tired pretty quickly, and,’ she gave him her conspiratorial smile, ‘the exercises I have to do down there, you, know, to stretch it, take it out of me a bit.’

  Tom’s blush turned a deeper shade of red. ‘You mean you have to stuff things up inside you.’

  ‘Yes, Tom, if I want to be a functioning woman.’

  Tom shook his head and the hand holding the slice of toast. ‘Enough! Don’t tell me anymore.’

  Jasmine giggled. ‘OK, Tom. What about your news; you’ve made Detective Inspector.’

  Tom smiled and looked proud. ‘Yes, it came quicker than I was expecting, but with the changes and Sloane being given more admin, I suppose they needed a DI in the unit.’

  ‘So, you’re running the Violent and Serious Crime Unit now?’

  ‘Well, Sloane is still nominally in charge, but he’s not in the office much.’

  Jasmine had a thought. ‘I guess I’m honoured to have you drop in at last.’

  Tom frowned, ‘I’m sorry, Jas. I should have come to see you when you sent out your new address, but Sloane’s kept us pretty busy and then Soph had Abi…’

  ‘Oh, gosh, Tom. I forgot. You’re a Daddy.’ Jasmine clapped her hand over her mouth. She felt dreadful that she had been teasing Tom for not visiting her while she had been so full of her move with Viv and having her GRS. She had forgotten about his expanding family. ‘How are they? Sophie and Abi, did you say?’

  ‘Yes, Abigail. She’s lovely, not sleeping much though. Giving Sophie a pretty hard time of it since I’m rarely around to do my share.’

  ‘No, I understand.’ She didn’t really. She and Angela hadn’t had children, of course, and she couldn’t imagine really giving birth and bringing up a child. She was a woman, she was sure of it, but she would never have that female experience. ‘I’m sorry Tom. I should have given her something.’

  ‘It’s okay Jas. We’ve both been pretty busy one way or another.’

  ‘Well, you’re here now and it’s great to see you, but I don’t suppose this is a social visit.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘A case, Jas.’

  ‘I guessed.’

  Tom described the fire at Molly’s, the discovery of the body, the missing wife and their investigations through the night.

  ‘Why have you come to see me so quickly this morning? Surely there’s a lot of information gathering going on.’

  ‘Of course, there is, Jas, but Sloane and Winslade think you may be able to help.’

  ‘Sloane and Dr Winslade? You mean there’s a trans angle.’ Why else would DCI Sloane suggest her involvement. It seemed that she popped into his mind when anything transgender was mentioned. But the pathologist too; that was interesting.

  ‘You got it. The victim is physically male but was dressed in female clothes. Apparently, she did all the time.’

  Jasmine nodded, her suspicions confirmed. ‘A pre-op TS then.’

  ‘Perhaps, Winslade discovered that her, or his, I don’t know which; his I suppose, anyway, his genitals were encased in some sort of metal frame. She said it may be a chastity device. Do you know what I mean?’

  ‘Yes, Tom. A chastity cage, locked around the penis and testicles, it stops the wearer from getting an erection. I presume there was a lock.’

  Tom shook his head and shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Winslade’s doing the post-mortem?’

  ‘Yes, she had the body delivered to the mortuary a couple of hours ago.’

  ‘Well, you’ll soon be able to see what a chastity cage is. But I think it means that your victim wasn’t TS in the same sense as I am, or was. I didn’t want to remember I had that dangling between my legs let alone emphasise it by locking it up.’

  Tom seemed to squirm on the sofa. ‘He, er she, must have been aware of it all the time.’

  ‘Exactly. Who is she and what is the shop that burned down? Did you say it was called Molly’s?’

  ‘Her name was Evelyn Bunting, there doesn’t seem to be a Molly.’

  ‘Evelyn. Interesting, one of those male-female names.’

  ‘That’s right. She owned Molly’s. There’s a website too.’ Tom dug in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his phone, ‘She sold clothes and other gear for transvestites and offered them dressing sessions. Look.’ Tom thumbed the screen and when he’d got to the webpage he passed it across to Jasmine. She flicked through the site.

  ‘I see. And all this was happening in staid old Thirsbury?’

  ‘The shop was very discreet, apparently, and although Bunting’s retail activities were known, there doesn’t seem to have been any problem with the neighbours.’

  ‘I don’t suppose many transvestites made the journey to Thirsbury. Probably most of the business was online. But she was taking a bit of a chance.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, Tom, have you never heard of mollyhouses?’

  Tom’s face was blank. ‘No, should I?’

  Jasmine shrugged. ‘Probably not. Homosexuality was legalised long before we were born.’ She took a breath. ‘In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries mollyhouses were where gay men met. Some of them dressed as women. They may have been transsexuals or cross-dressers – they didn’t have those names for them then. Or they were drag-queens who did it to service the other gay guys or even straight men fancying something a bit different.’

  Tom’s mouth hung open. It was a few moments before he closed it. ‘I see. So, Bunting was signalling what her business was.’

  ‘Sort of. Perhaps trannies would understand, if they know their queer history. I’m not saying that she was running a gay brothel or anything. It may be just what the website says it is; somewhere for trans guys to visit to be transformed into women.’

  ‘You’ve just given me an idea, Jas. We hadn’t come up with a motive earlier unless it was a domestic between Bunting and his missing wife; but, what if someone found out that Bunting was running a mollyhouse like you described and didn’t like it and decided to shut it down.’

  Jasmine shrugged. ‘It’s possible but you said that you haven’t heard any rumours of discontent about the shop or anger directed at Bunting.’

  ‘No, nothing like that.’

  ‘Well, it’s an idea, but I think you need to look more closely at Bunting and his wife. The clothes you described sound a bit kinky – a sexy maid’s uniform, very high heels, and the chastity cage. Evelyn Bunting sounds a bit like a sissy to me.’

  ‘A sissy?’ Tom was wide-eyed again.

  ‘A man forced into women’s clothes. Well, I say forced; they love it really. A male submissive with a dominant woman.’

  ‘Harriet Bunting?’

  ‘Pretty likely.’

  Tom put the final morsel of toast into his mouth and hauled himself to his feet.

&
nbsp; ‘Well, I’d better make sure she turns up to answer some questions.’

  ‘A good idea. If she’s alive.’

  Tom froze. ‘I hadn’t considered she might not be. God, another complication. Thanks Jas.’

  Tom headed towards the front door with Jasmine behind him. He paused and turned. ‘Look Jas, see what else you can find out about Molly’s and Evelyn Bunting, and this sissy thing. Perhaps you can come over to Thirsbury and have a look around. There’s stuff in that shop that I don’t get.’

  ‘Er, yes, Tom, but I’m not really running around or driving just yet.’

  ‘I’ll pick you up. This afternoon. I’ll give you a call. It will be like old times – you and me.’

  ‘Not quite, Tom, you’re a DI now, but, okay, I’ll be ready.’

  ‘Good. See you later.’ He turned again and almost seemed to hurry out through the door and back to his car. Jasmine watched him depart.

  Jasmine carried the mugs and plates into the kitchen and headed back upstairs to her bedroom. She was going back to work. Well, it felt like that although she realised that Tom probably wouldn’t need much assistance from her. During her weeks of recovery, she hadn’t thought much about her career as a private detective but now she felt an excitement as if her brain had clicked on and was already analysing the case.

  She showered and performed her exercises, not perfunctorily, as she knew how important they were to her future as a woman. Then she dressed, not in the sloppy bottoms and loose tops that had been her normal wear since the operation, but opaque tights, a skirt and blouse – her work uniform. All the time she was thinking over what Tom had told her.

  Once she had applied some foundation and lipstick she made space on her dressing table to open up her laptop. She quickly found the Molly’s website and went through every page. What she saw revealed a lot about Evelyn Bunting’s business. Then she explored the topic of “sissies”. Not totally ignoring the porn, she soon confirmed that the description of Evelyn matched some characteristics of this subset of effeminate males and raised some questions she would like to ask of Harriet.

  She was totally absorbed in her research when her phone buzzed. She grabbed it; Tom.