by P R Ellis
‘That’s convenient. We can fasten her to the bars. We don’t want her wandering, do we. Where’s the bag with the spare restraints, Tyler?’
‘Still in the car, I suppose.’
‘Well, go and get them.’
Tyler departed.
Jasmine made several attempts to swallow. The house owner examined her.
‘She seems to be having trouble with the gag, Mistress.’
Harriet peered at Jasmine. ‘You’d better take it off her. We don’t want her choking on her own spit.’
The man reached around Jasmine’s head to undo the straps of the gag. He tugged the ball from her mouth. Jasmine took a deep breath and closed her mouth. Her jaws ached.
‘Don’t make a sound,’ Harriet said, ‘Or you’ll have it back in and feel the weight of my hand.’
Tyler returned with the holdall. Harriet took it from him and opened it up. She pulled out the dog collar and lead.
‘Here put this on her and tie it to the headboard.’
Tyler took the collar and put it around Jasmine’s neck. He fastened the buckle then pulled the lead tight to a bar at the head of the bed, wound it round a few times and tied a knot. Jasmine found she could only move her head from side to side a few inches.
‘Now undo her ankles,’ Harriet ordered. ‘Hold her legs, Peewee, in case she foolishly decides to kick.’
Peewee held her feet while Tyler struggled with the knot that held the tie around her ankles. It had become tightened by her struggles. Eventually Tyler gave up and took a penknife from his pocket. He cut through the material and pulled the remains of the tie from her legs.
‘Put the cuffs on her,’ Harriet said.
Tyler looked at Jasmine’s legs enclosed in tights. ‘You said I could see what her fanny looks like.’
‘Oh, god, Tyler. Do you ever think of anything other than sex?’ Jasmine caught Harriet’s eyes looking at her. ‘Why not. Getting rid of her clothes might make her a bit more subservient. Don’t undo the cuffs though. Use your knife.’
Tyler leaned over her. He undid the buttons of her jacket and then hacked at her jumper and vest-top. He peeled them back to reveal her bra and torso. He slid the blade of the knife under her bra between the cups. Jasmine struggled to stop herself shaking. Her fear of the knife was likely to cause him to injure her if she couldn’t keep still. The material gave way and the cups popped off spilling out her enhancers.
‘There,’ Harriet sneered, ‘I knew she was a fake. Hasn’t got any boobs of her own to speak of.’
Tyler folded the knife and dropped it into his pocket. He reached down to Jasmine’s side and pulled on the zip of her skirt. Then he tugged the garment down her legs revealing her tights. He stretched across her and inserted both hands into the waistband. With a grunt he pulled her tights and knickers over her hips and down her legs and off her feet.
Jasmine closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear looking at the three people staring at her. Only Angela had ever seen her naked when she was a man and only Viv, other than doctors and nurses, had viewed her new physiology. She gasped when she felt her legs rudely dragged apart.
‘She looks pretty normal,’ Tyler said, ‘She’s got flaps and a cunt.’
‘It’s artificial, as I told you, Tyler,’ Harriet said. ‘Like a plastic flower it may look and feel real, but it doesn’t produce nectar, can’t make seed or turn into a fruit. She’s an imitation. No more real than those blow-up dolls that wankers use. She can’t satisfy you like a real woman.’
‘Well…’ Tyler sounded unsure.
‘Come on. Let’s get back. I can satisfy you far more than she could. Fasten her legs.’ Harriet insisted. Her voice took on an authoritarian tone. ‘Don’t let her go, Peewee. I’ll let you know what I want done with her.’
The slave muttered a quiet, ‘Yes, Mistress.’
‘And don’t worry. You will receive your reward,’ she added.
The cuffs were locked around her ankles and then the three left the bedroom. Jasmine listened carefully for any further conversation but could not make out any more words before she heard the door close and the car start up.
There were footsteps on the stairs, then on the landing, but they passed by the door. A few minutes later the door did open and the slave entered the room. He stood over Jasmine. He was dressed now. He looked down at her almost naked body without speaking.
‘You have to let me go,’ Jasmine said, ‘Kidnapping is a serious crime.’
He didn’t speak for several heartbeats but merely stared at her breasts and stomach and the re-growth of hair on her pubic mound.
‘Was Mistress right? Have you had a sex-change?’
‘Yes. That bit’s true,’ Jasmine said, ‘but she’s wrong. I’m not a fake. I am a woman.’
‘You could have intercourse with a man.’
For a moment Jasmine worried that the man was contemplating raping her then she remembered that his penis was locked in a cage and that he couldn’t have an erection. He was unable to have sex and indeed any arousal would cause him discomfort, even pain.
‘I will, when I’m fully recovered,’ she said, ‘It’s not long since I had the operation.’
He nodded and continued to gaze at her. She wondered whether he had ever looked at a naked woman before.
‘I’m feeling a bit cold. Can you cover me up, please?’
He shook his head. ‘Mistress said to keep you naked. I’ll turn the heating up a little.’ He left the room.
21
SUNDAY 20th OCTOBER
LATE AFTERNOON
Tom Shepherd faced Elvis Preston across the interview table. Griffith’s solicitor was alongside the fixer. Terry sat beside Tom and set the recording going.
‘You know why we’ve arrested you, Elvis,’ Tom said.
Preston glared. ‘I’ve forgotten. Tell me again.’
Tom smiled at him. ‘You have been arrested on suspicion of conspiracy to defraud the company insuring Molly’s in Thirsbury and assisting in the arson of the premises.’
Elvis shrugged. ‘Don’t know what you are talking about.’
‘You knew Evelyn Bunting,’
‘Yeah. So what?’
‘You knew he owed a large sum of money to your boss.’
Elvis shrugged again.
‘State your answer to the question, please.’
‘Yeah, I knew that.’
‘You knew Bunting couldn’t pay.’
‘I knew he wouldn’t pay.’
‘Wouldn’t?’ Tom exclaimed, ‘Can you imagine a person like Evelyn Bunting standing up to a thug like you and refusing to pay back the loan?’
‘Who are you calling a thug? I work for a respected businessman.’
‘I’m sorry Elvis, I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings,’ Tom said. ‘But come on. Evelyn was hardly in a position to tough it out. He saw a way out, though. Burn down the place and claim the insurance. He renewed, and increased, his cover a few weeks before the fire. But he couldn’t be the one to do it. He needed someone else to start the fire and make it look like an attack on the business.’
‘That’s a nice story you’re telling,’ Elvis said. ‘but I’m not one of the characters in it.’
‘Are you sure. Elvis? You’ve had experience of setting a few fires.’
‘That was a long time ago when I was a kid.’
‘I imagine lighting a fire is bit like riding a bike. It’s not a skill you forget. And we’ve got CCTV evidence of you near to the premises on the evening of the fire. You live in Kintbridge so what were you doing in Thirsbury in the evening if not to do a bit of fire-lighting.’
‘It’s a pleasant town for an evening out. Some good pubs.’
‘Oh, so can you give us names of people who will vouch for your presence in one of them when the fire was being started?’
Elvis pursed his lips.
‘Of course, as well as the fire there is the matter of who killed Evelyn Bunting, at the same time or perhaps a little before. As you w
ere on the spot, perhaps you are in the frame for that as well.’
‘I didn’t kill the weirdo.’
‘Weirdo?’
‘This woman’s clothes lark. Everyone knew he was a bloke.’
‘Does it matter what people wear? It doesn’t affect them getting into debt does it?’
‘No, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t have a screw loose.’
‘So, you didn’t think much of Evelyn Bunting. Perhaps you weren’t too bothered about murdering him.’
‘I told you I didn’t do that.’
‘What did you do then, Elvis?’
Preston’s mouth opened but no words came out.
‘Answer me that, Elvis.’
‘No comment.’
Tom grinned and stood up. ‘We’ll leave you to talk it over with your lawyer. Come on DC Hopkins.’
Tom walked out of the interview room with Terry close behind. In the corridor, Terry spoke quietly.
‘He didn’t like being accused of the murder.’
‘Hmm, no. I think that denial’s genuine, but I’m sure he was in on the arson.’
‘I think you’re probably right, boss, but we need a bit more to go on.’
‘Yeah. Let’s see if Sasha has got anywhere with his phone. It’s been a few hours since we brought Preston in. The delay in getting hold of Griffiths’ lawyer gave us a bit of time there.’
They hurried up to the office. Sasha was there alone, eyes focussed on the bright screen of her computer
‘Still no sign of Hamid?’ Tom asked.
‘No. He’s still at the house where Harriet Bunting is staying. There’s no sign of her or Smith.’
‘I wonder what they’re up to. They’ve been out all afternoon. We can’t keep a patrol car on standby for much longer. Give him a call, Terry. See if there’s any news. Have you got anywhere with Preston’s phone, Sasha?’ He stood by DC Patel’s side and looked at the screen.
‘There’s a lot of phone calls, Sir, a few are from call boxes. Three of them were made from a box near where the Bunting’s lived.’
Tom clenched his fist and almost let out a yelp of joy. He restrained himself. ‘That’s brilliant, Sasha. Just what we were looking for. When were they?’
Patel peered at the screen, ‘One was about two weeks ago, then a week later and the final one was on the evening of the fire.’
‘Okay, so we’ve no proof that it was Evelyn making those calls but it looks likely. It must be them making arrangements for the fire.’
‘Looks like that, Sir.’
Tom’s mobile started ringing in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, pulled a confused face and answered it.
‘Hi, Viv. What can I do for you?’ He listened while Jasmine’s partner spoke.
‘How long has she been out?’ a pause, ‘And she’s not answering?’ Viv went on a bit more. ‘Her what? Her exercises? Oh yes, I remember her mentioning them. Okay, if you’re worried, I’ll put out a call for her car. What? It’s not the old Fiesta. Okay, what’s the number of the new car.’ He grabbed a pen from Sasha’s desk and scribbled a car registration on a piece of paper. ‘Right, thanks, Viv. I’m sure she’ll turn up. You know what she’s like when she gets on a job. Bye.’
He ended the call and stood thinking.
‘What was that, Sir?’ Sasha asked.
‘That was Jasmine’s fella, Viv. He’s expecting her for dinner and she hasn’t turned up. She’s hasn’t been in touch since she went out this morning.
Sasha said, ‘Jasmine is used to long shifts. It’s not that long. Why is her boyfriend concerned?’
Tom was biting his lip. ‘I think it’s because Jasmine is still recovering from her operation. You know what. And Viv says she needs to do some exercises three times a day.’
‘Exercises?’
‘Yes, I can’t go into what they are. Jasmine rushed off at lunchtime on Thursday because she needed to do them…’
‘Oh.’
‘Well, there’s that and Viv said she promised to be home by now because he was preparing dinner.’
‘Perhaps what she went out for has taken longer than she expected.’
‘She was only going to see Gary Nicholls. I didn’t expect her to wait there all day if he wasn’t home. Perhaps she’s been taken ill.
‘What would you like me to do, Sir?’
‘Give Nicholls a ring. See if he’s home and ask him if he’s seen Jas. I’ll get a general call put out for her car. Viv says she’s got rid of that old Fiesta and bought a Mini. About time.’ He went into his office and sat at his computer.
A few minutes later Tom looked up as Sasha approached the office. ‘Any news?’ he asked.
Sasha had a worried frown. ‘I spoke to Nicholls. He got back from his holiday this morning.’
‘Did Jasmine call on him?’
DC Patel nodded. ‘Yes. It was about eleven. He says she stayed for about forty minutes, had a coffee, then left. His girlfriend was there too. He says she will corroborate the time.’
Tom pondered. ‘So Jasmine left there before mid-day. Where did she go? Nicholls didn’t say?’
‘I asked, but he didn’t know.’
‘I wonder. He must have said something that sent Jasmine off somewhere. Why didn’t she call in? She will go off on her own.’ He paused, then got up. ‘I think we need to pay a visit on Mr Nicholls and see what he and Jasmine talked about. Come with me Sasha.’ As they were leaving the main office, Tom called out to Terry. ‘Keep an eye on things, Terry, and tell Hamid to stick it out with Bunting and Smith. I want Smith brought in as soon as they appear. And let me know if there’s any news about Jasmine.’
‘What’s Frame up to now?’
‘She’s missing, Terry.’
Tom pulled up outside Nicholl’s home. The brick-clad house glowed red in the sun, low in the west.
‘It looks as though Nicholls has done pretty well for himself. Let’s go and have a chat.’ He got out of the Mondeo and Sasha Patel followed him up to the front door. He rang the bell. It was answered fairly soon by a young, blonde woman wearing a mini skirt over leggings and a tight top that revealed most of her breasts.
‘Hello,’ Tom began, ‘we’d like to speak to Mr Nicholls. Is he home?’
The woman frowned. ‘Who are you?’
Tom and Sasha both drew out their warrant cards and held them up. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Shepherd and this is DC Patel.’
‘Oh, you’re real police, not like the one who called this morning.’
‘You spoke to Jasmine?’ Tom asked.
‘The trans-whatsit?’
‘Um, yes,’ Tom knew how sensitive Jasmine was to being identified. She can’t have liked being picked out by this young woman.
‘She had lots of questions about Gary’s old lover.’
‘Harriet Bunting? Yes, we’d like to ask him about that.’
‘You’d better come in then.’ The girl stepped back, allowing them to enter the large hallway and then lead them into the lounge.’
Gary Nicholls rose from the sofa. ‘Who is it, darling…’ he began as Tom and Sasha followed her.
‘It’s the police, Gary. Real ones this time.’
Nicholls frowned. ‘That woman I spoke to this morning said she was with the police. Wasn’t she…’
Tom answered, ‘Jasmine was asking questions on our behalf but she is not a police officer anymore.’
‘Is that because she’s not a real woman?’ the young woman asked.
‘Not at all,’ Tom replied, ‘and I think Jasmine would insist that she is a woman, especially now.’
‘Oh, she’s had the op has she?’ Tracy said.
Tom frowned at her. Did Jasmine find her as insulting when she had been here? Did the woman realise what she was saying?
‘Miss Frame is the reason we are here,’ Tom said. He introduced himself and Sasha. ‘you spoke to DC Patel a short while ago and said that Jasmine left you about mid-day.’
Nicholls answered. �
��Oh, it was earlier than that. She wasn’t here very long. About a-quarter-to twelve I suppose.’
‘And she didn’t say where she was going next?’ Tom looked from Nicholls to his girlfriend.
They both shook their heads, then Nicholls let out a laugh. ‘You’ve lost your investigator, haven’t you? That’s clever.’
Tom took a breath. ‘Miss Frame has been out of touch for over five hours. She is still supposed to be convalescing,’ he glanced at Tracy who looked smug. ‘so we’re a little concerned about her whereabouts.’
‘Well, I don’t know where she went,’ Nicholls said, ‘that’s what I told you on the phone,’ he nodded his head at Sasha.
‘We realise she didn’t tell you where she was going,’ Tom said, ‘but we’re wondering if you said something to her that might have sent her somewhere.’
Nicholls shrugged. ‘We talked about the Buntings.’
‘Your affair with Mrs Bunting and your part in the bankrupting of Evelyn Bunting’s business.’
Nicholls drew himself up straight, his face red. ‘I had nothing to do with that.’
‘You accepted a hundred thousand pounds from Bunting.’
‘I told your missing investigator that that was Harriet’s doing. She wanted rid of me and I was happy to leave her to that toyboy of hers.’
‘Tyler Smith.’
‘That’s him.’
Tom frowned. There was nothing unexpected there. ‘Was that all you discussed?’
Tracy sidled up to Gary and flung her arms around his waist. ‘What did you talk about when you sent me out for the cream, Garypops. I know you were embarrassed. You’ve never asked for cream before. Was it about you having sex with Evie Bunting?’
Nicholls stared down at her and blushed. ‘How do you know?’
The girl smiled, ‘You mention her name sometimes when you dream, and whatshername, Jasmine, told me that Evie is a man. Well, she didn’t say that exactly, but I know what she meant. What’s it like fucking a man, Gary?’
