by P R Ellis
The man’s eyes widened. ‘I don’t understand. Where do you fit into this? You’re a woman. Aren’t you?’
Her anorak was still wrapped around her, so the state of her clothes was not visible. She smiled. Recognition. To be identified as a woman was a sort of justification.
‘That’s correct. I was helping the police in Kintbridge investigate Mrs Bunting.’
‘Kintbridge Police?’ He searched the sheet of paper. ‘Oh yes, the call came from DI Shepherd. He gave us the address in Ringwood, but the rest of the message was pretty garbled.’
Jasmine sighed. Her poor opinion of communications between different police forces seemed to be accurate.
‘Tom didn’t know what was happening,’ she said.
‘Tom?’
‘DI Shepherd.’
‘Oh, I see. Are you assisting in the investigation of Mrs Bunting for this sex slave ring then?’
‘No. I don’t think that side of it is illegal. The slaves are consenting adults. I’m helping to investigate the murder of Mrs Bunting’s husband.’
Understanding was joined by annoyance on DS Dobson’s face. ‘I see. You should have notified us if your investigation was taking place in our area.’
Jasmine said, ‘I hadn’t intended being in your area. I had followed Mrs Bunting to the edge of Basingstoke which was where I was kidnapped. I was carried to Ringwood in the boot of her car.’
‘Ah, so Mr Lawton was not involved in your abduction.’
‘Not originally. Now can you please let me go so that I can get back to Kintbridge. I need to report to DI Shepherd.’ Jasmine started to rise, her limbs complaining
‘Um yes. Stay here please for a moment. I’ll need to get my senior officer’s permission to release you. We’ll have to corroborate your story.’ He got up and hurried from the room with less authority than when he had arrived. Jasmine sank back into her seat, clenching her fists with irritation.
The detective was back in a few minutes, in an excited state this time.
‘The guvnor says you can go but we’ll need a statement to explain what happened to Mr Lawton; and there’s a phone call for you. DI Shepherd.’
Jasmine jumped up, her aches forgotten. She strode to the door with Dobson at her side.
The detective led her down the corridor to the custody area. He pointed to a phone handset lying on the counter. Jasmine grabbed it.
‘Hello? Tom?’
‘Jas? You’re there?’
‘Yes, almost under arrest for what I did to Clive.’
‘Clive?’
‘Peewee, Harriet’s slave. He was my gaoler.’
‘Oh. You’ll have to fill me in.’
‘That doesn’t matter. Have you got them?’
‘Who?’
‘Harriet and Tyler of course.’
‘Ah. Smith is under arrest, but Harriet Bunting has gone.’
Jasmine felt her stomach tighten. Damn; she wanted to ask Bunting a few questions.
‘Any clues to where she’s gone to?’
‘No, we hoped you might have some ideas. Look I want to get you back here as soon as poss., but I haven’t got a car to send down for you.’
‘Well, I haven’t.’ She recalled being told that her new car, the pretty Mini was a write-off in Cheshire.
‘I’ll give Viv a call. He’ll come and get you. He was worried about you.’
The thought of Viv being worried gave her a funny tickle down her back. ‘That’s a good idea. Tell him to bring some of my clothes and shoes.’
‘I’ll do that. I’m really going to have to know all that they did to you.’
‘I know.’ She wasn’t looking forward to describing the more intimate parts of her ordeal.
‘Look, go and have a rest somewhere. I’m sure Viv will be with you as soon as he can.’
‘Thanks, Tom. Just have a word to the guys here to make sure they believe I’m working for you.’ She handed the phone to DS Dobson who had been standing a few feet behind her. He spoke to Tom for a few seconds then put the phone down and turned to Jasmine.
Jasmine spoke. ‘I’m going to be picked up, but it’s going to take a while. Can I wait somewhere comfortable, and, if at all possible, get something to eat?’ There was a growing hole in her stomach that was making itself felt more than the various aches and pains.
‘Oh, yeah. You’d better come to our rest room. I can get you something from our canteen.’
‘That’s the best thing I’ve heard for most of today,’ Jasmine said with relief. Dobson led her away.
Jasmine was almost asleep when she heard the door opening. She half-raised her eyelids and then she was awake.
‘Viv!’ She jumped up then regretted it as her muscles and groin complained.
‘Jas! What have they done to you?’ He dropped the holdall he was carrying and stepped towards her with his arms outstretched. Jasmine realised that she had allowed the anorak to flop open and her torn clothes were revealing an expanse of skin including her paltry little breasts. They embraced and Jasmine felt joy at feeling the man in her arms. But she pushed him away.
‘You brought my clothes?’ she asked. Viv nodded at the bag. ‘Good. Go back outside and don’t let anybody in until I’m ready.’ She urged him to the door, and as he disappeared she fell on the bag. She opened it, pulled out the clothes and tut-tutted about what a man might think were essential. She found a bra and a pair of knickers, her new, slinky, almost-not-there, pair. She discarded the remains of her clothes, felt a quick thrill at being naked in the officers’ restroom, then quickly dressed. Soon she felt almost herself in a skirt, tights, t-shirt and jumper but Viv hadn’t packed cosmetics. Her face must be a mess after the day’s events, but she didn’t have a mirror to see the damage. She stuffed the torn clothes in a rubbish bin, put the rest in the bag, donned her anorak again and with the bag in her hand stepped through the door, straight into Viv’s back.
He stumbled forward and turned. ‘You said, guard the door.’
‘Yes, thanks. I just need the loo and a mirror and then we can go.’ They walked up and down the corridor until she found the Ladies’ toilets. She went inside, into a cubicle and sat. After her pee, which she was relieved to discover did not hurt, she gave her anatomy a brief examination. Finding herself uninjured was a relief. She pressed the flush and emerged to wash her hands and face. She peered into the mirror. Would she have to venture into the world without make-up? On this occasion, the answer was, yes. It was unfortunate as her features still displayed something of her male past without the mask of foundation and lipstick. Still, she was relieved to be free and back on the job.
She stepped out to find Viv joined by DS Dobson.
‘Thank you for your assistance, Miss Frame,’ the DS said, ‘I hope you have a pleasant journey home.’
‘Thanks. It will be,’ she replied.
‘I’ll let you out,’ the detective added, leading them to the exit.
Jasmine stirred from a fitful sleep. Her head was resting against the passenger door of the Audi. How long had she been asleep? She wasn’t sure but as she looked through the window at a damp, dark evening she realised that they were approaching a roundabout in a town. It was the slowing down that had woken her. They were nearly home; they were in Kintbridge. Viv drove straight on at the roundabout.
‘No, Viv. I need to go to the police station,’ she said. He glanced at her, only just aware that she was awake.
‘What are you talking about, Jas? We’re going home.’
‘I have to report to Tom. Harriet has gone. I need to help them find her.’
Viv drove on. ‘You’ve had an ordeal today, Jas. You’re still recuperating. You need to rest.’
‘I’ve just had a rest, thank you very much. I’ve got to work. Turn around and take me to the police station. Please.’
Viv glared at the road ahead and sighed. At the next roundabout he drove all the way around it so that they headed back.
He growled in an unfamiliar tone. ‘I
’m not happy about this, Jas. You should be home.’
‘I’m sorry, Viv, but this is my job. I need to do it.’
He didn’t reply but turned off into the police station approach. The car stopped at the entrance. Jasmine opened the door.
‘Thanks, Viv. I do appreciate you picking me up.’
‘Don’t be long,’ he said, ‘Come home to rest.’
‘I will, as soon as I can.’ Jasmine closed the door and hurried up the steps to the entrance. The Audi moved off with a petulant burst of acceleration.
As Jasmine pushed the office door open she saw all the team there. They looked at her, rose to their feet and approached her. Even Terry Hopkins stood up and joined in the welcome.
‘There you are,’ Tom said, embracing her in a rare hug.
‘Are you okay?’ Sasha Patel asked.
Jasmine extricated herself from Tom’s arms. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, not prepared to admit the truth. ‘Now what have you got on Harriet Bunting?’
Tom grinned and backed away from her. ‘You’re okay to work?’
‘That’s why I’m here Tom. Viv wanted to take me home to rest, but if you’ve lost Harriet I want to help you catch her.’
Tom’s eyebrows raised. ‘A bit of vengeance called for?’
‘Perhaps.’ Jasmine examined her feelings about the woman who had abducted her. Yes, she wanted to see her in a locked cell and answering questions, truthfully for once. ‘But, mainly, I want to help you close this case.’
Tom smiled and beckoned them all to gather round. ‘We’ve had a bit of luck while you were on your way back.’
‘Good,’ Jasmine said, ‘What is it?’
Tom went on, ‘None of the neighbours saw Mrs Bunting leave the house. She had either walked or she had taken a taxi. We called the local cab companies and one told us they had picked her up and taken her to Reading railway station.’
‘But you didn’t catch her there,’ Jasmine said.
‘No, we were too late for that,’ Tom admitted. ‘We’ve been looking at the station CCTV and just before you came in Terry spotted her.’ He looked at DC Hopkins.
‘She got on a train,’ Terry said.
‘Where to?’ Jasmine felt exasperated by the pace of the story.
Terry looked triumphant. ‘Swansea.’
‘When does the train arrive?’ Jasmine asked.
Tom glanced at the wall clock. ‘About now. We’ve put a call into the transport police at Swansea station to arrest her.’
‘If she travelled all the way,’ Jasmine said.
Tom lost his smile. ‘There is that. If she got off at an earlier station we’ve missed her.’
‘We’re waiting for the call from Swansea,’ Terry said.
Jasmine felt impatient and she wasn’t confident that Harriet would be spotted getting off the train in Swansea. ‘Where else did the train stop?’
Sasha looked at the nearest computer screen. ‘Swindon, Bristol Parkway, Newport, Cardiff, Bridgend, Port Talbot and Neath.’
‘That’s quite a few stops,’ Jasmine said, ‘Shouldn’t you be asking for CCTV from each of them.’
Tom sighed. ‘Of course. Terry, Hamid, get on it.’ DC Hopkins sent Jasmine a scowl but moved to his desk with DC Sassani. ‘I’m glad you’re back with us, Jas,’ Tom said in a gentle voice, ‘You can tell us what Harriet Bunting is up to.’
Jasmine was pleased to feel needed but despite her insistence to Viv that she wanted to work, she was feeling the effects of the day’s hardships.
‘Thanks, Tom. I hope I can, but I think I need to sit down first.’
‘Oh, God, yes!’ Tom reacted as if he’d been given an electric shock, ‘What am I thinking? I forgot what you’ve been through, and you’re supposed to be recovering.’ He took her arm and guided her to a chair. She sat, pleased to relax into the seat.
‘It’s OK, Tom. I’ll be fine, but it has been an eventful day. Now you want to know where Harriet is going.’
Tom leaned against a desk next to Jasmine while Sasha stood nearby, listening to the conversation. ‘That’s right. Where’s she running to?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Jasmine chuckled. ‘I guess she’s off to meet another of her slaves, but who or where, I couldn’t tell you.’
‘Well, I didn’t expect you to have all their addresses,’ Tom admitted. ‘But how many are there?’
Jasmine counted up. ‘There’s the guy who loaned her the house in Reedham and the four I’ve met, Willy in Oxford and Buttercup in Cheltenham. They’re the two she met in Faringdon. Then there is Winkle, who she met in Basingstoke.’
Tom interrupted, ‘Is he the guy who went off in your new car and had the collision?’
‘That’s him. Written off is it?’
‘’Fraid so.’
Jasmine sighed. How would Viv respond to the news that the new car he’d bought for her had survived just one day in her hands?
‘And then there’s Peewee, who she dumped me on in Ringwood.’
Tom pondered. ‘Could she be visiting any of them?’
Jasmine shrugged, ‘I suppose she may have changed trains and gone to Oxford or Cheltenham, but there are another six or more who I don’t know anything about.’
‘That many?’
‘Yes,’ Jasmine said, ‘She was collecting a tidy sum from her clients, and I imagine that they would do anything for her.’
‘Anything?’ Sasha asked
Jasmine nodded. ‘Anything.’
Tom scratched his chin which was showing bristles. ‘How do we find out who they are and where they live. Did she keep records?’
‘Oh yes,’ Jasmine said, ‘A little book that she keeps with her at all times. You won’t find anything in the house she was using.’
‘But she did meet them,’ Tom said.
‘Yes, not often. Every few months, to give them tasks and hand over their keys for a few minutes relief.’
‘She had to travel to the meetings,’ Tom said, ‘She doesn’t drive herself, so she had a chauffeur. Tyler.’
‘Don’t forget that the meetings were often in hotels. I don’t know how often she went to their homes.’
Tom stood up, a renewed eagerness in his stance. ‘Tyler Smith’s downstairs. He can tell us what he knows.’
‘Will he?’ Jasmine said, ‘He may just “no comment” you.’
Tom deflated. ‘Hmm. You’re probably right, but we can give him a try. Sasha, go and get him taken to an interview room, with his solicitor if he’s turned up.’ Sasha Patel hurried off.
‘There is another thing,’ Jasmine said.
‘What?’
‘Tyler’s only been on the scene a fairly short time. He may not have taken Harriet to meet all the men, let alone driven her to their homes.’
‘What are you getting at, Jas.’
‘Gary Nicholls was her lover and driver for a lot longer.’
‘So he was,’ Tom said with a sense of wonder.
‘Let’s ask him,’ Jasmine said.
‘Good idea, Come with me, Jas.’
Terry called out ‘Hey, Boss. She didn’t get off the train in Swansea. Or if she did the officers there missed her.’
Tom headed to where Terry and Hamid were bent over computer screens with phones to their ears. ‘What about the other stops?’ he asked.
‘We’re speaking to each of the station officers,’ Terry said, ‘The train was pretty full so quite a few people got off at each station. They’re looking through their CCTV to see if there’s anyone matching Bunting’s description.’
‘Good. You stick at that Terry and let me know if anything comes up. Hamid go and join Sasha and see if you can get anything out of Tyler Smith.’
‘Where are you off to, Boss?’ Terry said.
‘To have another chat to Gary Nicholls.’
‘He’ll be delighted to see you again,’ DC Hopkins said.
‘I’m sure he will be,’ Tom agreed, ‘or his girlfriend will be.’
Tom Shepherd headed toward
s the door. Jasmine pushed herself out of the chair and hastened to follow him.
25
SUNDAY 20th OCTOBER
LATE EVENING
A light came on over the entrance porch as Tom and Jasmine approached Gary Nicholl’s house although no interior lighting could be seen.
‘Are they in?’ Tom asked as he pressed the doorbell. Jasmine didn’t answer but had her fingers crossed that their journey wasn’t wasted. Her hopes were answered when a light appeared through the small window in the door and then the door was opened by Gary Nicholls.
‘You again,’ he said, not cheerfully, as he looked at both of them. ‘You’ve caught up with each other then.’
Tom didn’t offer an account of their day. ‘I said we may have more questions, Mr Nicholls. May we come in.’
For a moment Nicholls looked uncertain whether to give in to the request, but then he pulled the door wide and stepped aside.
‘Make it quick,’ he said.
Jasmine followed Tom into the hallway. Nicholls closed the door behind them.
‘We need your assistance to find Harriet Bunting,’ Tom said.
Nicholls looked disbelieving. ‘I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her for months.’
‘But you may be able to help us determine where she’s gone,’ Jasmine said.
‘Gone?’
‘She’s left the house she was staying at in Reedham,’ Tom said.
‘With Smith?’ Nicholls spat out the name.
‘No, we have Mr Smith in custody. Harriet Bunting left soon after,’ Tom said.
‘She didn’t go by car then.’
‘No,’ Tom continued, ‘She took a taxi to Reading station and we know she caught a train which went to Swansea, but she got off at a station between Reading and there.’
Nicholls shrugged. ‘So? Why call on me?’
Jasmine stepped forward. ‘Because you might know where she’s headed. We think she’s meeting one of the men for whom she keeps a key. You know what I’m talking about.’
‘Yeah, her weirdoes.’
‘Who she does pretty well out of,’ Jasmine added.
Nicholls nodded grudgingly, ‘OK, so she did.’
