Betwixt Natasha

by E V Daymuir

  He kissed her soft fragrant hair and chuckled. ‘And you, Lydia are my shooting star.’

  She giggled and felt for his penis.

  *****

  DI Cardhew drove through the gates to Laburnham Court to find several police vehicles parked outside and DC Leadbetter waiting for him. A guy in a royal blue jacket and cap, saluted and directed him to a parking space. She introduced him as Charlie Bell, the concierge of Laburnham Court. It was Charlie who found the body. Cardhew shook his hand and told him he would want to speak to him later.

  ‘So where’s the body Leadbetter?’

  ‘In the penthouse sir.’

  Charlie Bell showed them to the lift and pressed the button. As the doors closed Cardhew relaxed. ‘Any suspects yet Jennie?’

  ‘Not as far as I’m concerned sir, although sergeant Kimberley believes he’s solved this case – and a suspected arson at the Meltcon factory.’

  Cardhew smiled. ‘My word, he has been busy. Who suspects arson, the fire service?’

  ‘Don’t think so. It’s an accusation from a friend of the Chief Super’s. He’s accusing that rugby guy who ran out through the blaze carrying a female colleague.’

  The lift door opened. They walked past a community police officer, standing guard at the open door to the penthouse. ‘Cardhew grunted. Well, you never know your luck; they could both get promoted – or, of course, as so often happens, they could both be barking up the wrong tree.’

  DC Leadbetter smiled to herself, what was it his mother had said about barking up the wrong tree? She pointed out the double door security arrangement; although both doors had been locked on open to maintain easy access. They paused to put on, scene of crime overalls, before she led him through the long room and into the bedroom where the forensic team were working. Without a word, she carefully removed a sheet covering the naked body of a young woman laying across the bed. Cardhew looked down at her: he always felt sad when he looked at a dead body. Some people in the force became immune over time, but he never had. Even in death and trussed-up like a chicken, there was no denying that this young woman had been a great beauty. He would say she was about the same age as Jennie. The whiteness of the rope used to bind her, stood out against her lightly tanned naked body and whether by chance, or deliberately, it was tied in a way which enhanced her breasts. Her eyes were wide open and a gag, pulled tightly into her mouth gave the impression that she was laughing at death.

  ‘It’s difficult to see sir, but there’s a vibrator hidden between her thighs. It was still working when we came to investigate.’ She pointed to it with a gloved finger.

  He nodded his understanding, not wanting to look too closely. ‘How long do those gadgets normally run for?’

  ‘Perhaps a couple of hours, but this one works off the mains. I switched it off as soon as I arrived. It’s plugged in over here.’

  She moved over to a bedside table and pointed to the plug. He was drawn to her lithe, animal grace as she crouched down. It was amazing that she could look so attractive in a shapeless overall. The vibrator started to hum. She looked up at him, prepared to switch it off again. He scratched at his left greying temple, an unconscious action she had become accustomed to when he was thinking.

  ‘Is that the only way of switching it on or off?’

  ‘No sir. There’s a switch on the vibrator, which also controls the speed.’

  ‘Do you think she could have switched it on and off by herself?’

  ‘Not after she was bound. Her hands are pulled up her back and as you can see, the rope is very tight.’

  ‘You said the switch also controls the speed, presumably that means vibration speed? If anyone other than DI Cardhew had been pursuing this line of questioning, she would have felt uncomfortable, but she knew him well enough to know he would get no salacious kick from her answers; he simply wanted to know.

  ‘Yes, I don’t know what speed it’s set on, but I assume either she selected it, or the person she was with did it for her. If she did make the selection and switch it on after inserting it, someone else must have been on hand to tie her up.’

  Cardhew scratched at his left temple again. He was pleased Jennie was assisting and not Kimberley; she had treated the dead woman with respect, covering her and switching off the vibrator would never have occurred to Kimberley. She was right, this had all the indications of a sex game which had gone tragically wrong.

  ‘Do we know who she is?’

  ‘The concierge identified her as Lucinda Lovebrace, the owner of the penthouse.

  ‘What time did he find her?’

  ‘About 6.30am.’

  ‘What made him come up here at that hour?’

  ‘We called and asked him to check. A drunk came into the station claiming to have strangled her. Sergeant Kimberley has arrested him on suspicion of murder. Probably claim it as yet another crime he has solved single handed.’

  He noted the irony. ‘Is there any doubt?’

  ‘Could be;. I thought we should leave everything as it was until you arrived.’

  Apart from a natural attraction, Cardhew liked Jennie because she was quick to learn and thorough in searching for the correct result. Unlike Sergeant Kimberley, a graduate in criminology, who was fast tracked; thought he knew everything, and went out of his way to please his superiors – apart from him of course.

  ‘Have forensics arrived at any conclusions yet?’

  ‘Doctor Russell thinks she died at around 3am. He wants to carry out more tests when the body reaches the morgue. Shall I switch this off again?’ She pointed towards the general area where the vibrator was buzzing away on a fruitless mission.

  ‘Yes please – at the mains.’ She obviously felt the same way as he did about the poor woman. He forced himself to look away as she crouched down to reach for the plug, but found her image in other mirrors around the room. He looked up at the mirror in the ceiling. Was it two way? Were any of the others two way? Were there any hidden cameras? He’d come across similar set-ups during his time with the Met. He would say the dead woman was a high class prostitute, but that did not make her death any the less tragic.

  The buzzing stopped, creating a silence which prompted two members of the forensics team, to glance towards the body. He moved around the bed, studying it closely. The ankles were tied together with the rope looped around the heels of black stilettos, back through the ankle binding, under the wrists, around the face to pull the gag into her mouth, then knotted back on her wrists. The rope was piano wire tight. There was also rope between her legs, around her waist and criss-crossed between her breasts. It was difficult to tell if all this had been achieved with one length of rope. He noted some bruising around her throat and what looked like flaking skin over her cheek and nose. He looked up and met Jennie’s eyes, viewing the body from the other side of what was a very wide bed.

  ‘Is this what I think it is?’

  ‘Doctor Russell thought it could be dried semen. He lifted a sample off for analysis.

  ‘Did he say when he expected to get a result?’

  ‘Could be Friday, Sir. ’

  ‘Ha, that sounds like the ever cautious Doctor Russell; we’ll probably get a result by Wednesday.’ He stepped back from the bed and surveyed the room. ‘I’m pretty sure this was consensual, at least up to the point where she died. It looks as if she was in that line of business. I’ve seen all I need here, but I’d like to see the rest of the place. Shall we put the sheet back on?’

  Jennie nodded, relieved to cover the naked body. They draped the sheet respectfully over the lifeless Lucinda Lovebrace.

  ‘Will they take her away like this?’

  ‘You mean, tied up?’

  ‘Yes, Jennie. I want a stage by stage photographic record when they undo the rope, I don’t care if it’s done here or in the morgue, but we must have it.’

  ‘I’ll tell them right away sir.’

  ‘And Jennie.’ She turned back towards him. He smiled. ‘You did the right thing. I think
this case is as far from being solved. I‘ll just take a look around, then we’ll have a chat with the concierge.’

  Charlie Bell had been doing his best to avoid residents, determined to find out what had happened, so when the service lift stopped on the fourth floor, he knew he had to be quick if he was to avoid an inquisition from Major and Mrs Dodd. He had his hand written sign to say the lift would be out of order until further notice fixed onto a traffic cone. When the lift doors opened, all he had to do was slide it out – but they were there, waiting to pounce.

  ‘Ah, Charlie, can you tell us what’s going on?’

  He shoved the cone out with his foot, pushed the button for the third floor and pointed at the other three cones, carrying the same message, in the lift.

  ‘Sorry, must get these out to stop anyone trying to use the lift. I’ll tell you all about it later.’

  In the couple of seconds it took for the lift doors to start to close, Mrs Dodd, who was by far the more nimble of the two, darted forward and wedged a hefty brogue against a door. Major Dodd followed at a more sedate pace, leant against it and spoke in a way which usually wheedled information out of anyone.

  ‘Come on Charlie. What’s happening? Why the police?’

  ‘And the ambulance?’ Mrs Dodd had locked onto him with her ice blue eyes. There was no getting away from that gaze. Someone had once told him that during WW2 she interrogated German prisoners. He suddenly, felt sorry for the Germans, if he didn’t let them have something, she would never let him get away.

  ‘There has been an unexplained death. Please don’t ask me to say more. I’ve been ordered by the police not to say anything.’

  ‘But it’s us Charlie. You know we wouldn’t do anything to get you into trouble.’

  Mrs Dodds wrinkled her eyes in a superficial smile. ‘We think of you more as a friend than concierge and would hate to get you into any sort of trouble. So you don’t have to say anything, simple nod if we are right.’

  Charlie nodded to show that he understood.

  Mrs Dodd continued. ‘Does it concern the woman on the fifth floor?’

  Charlie nodded.

  ‘Murder was it Charlie?’

  Charlie looked at the major and shrugged. Mrs Dodd repeated the wrinkled smile. ‘We heard this lift in the early hours. If the police want to talk to us we will be happy to help.’

  ‘Did you hear anything else?’

  Major Dodd stepped back from the lift. ‘We’re happy to talk to the police at any time Charlie. You can tell them so if you wish.’

  ‘I’ll do that. They want to talk to me again, that’s why I’m in a hurry.’

  ‘Are they taking the body out in this lift?’

  Mrs Dodd held his gaze, waiting for his nod before taking her foot away from the door, leaving it free to close.

  Charlie managed to push the cones out on the other floors without getting buttonholed by any one else. Detective Inspector Cardhew and Detective Constable Leadbetter were waiting by the lift on the ground floor. He placed the last of the cones with the out of order message in front of the doors, explaining that the he had been asked to make sure the service lift would be available to bring the body down. He showed them the rear entrance to the building, before taking them into his ground floor flat, where his wife, Sandra made them a cup of coffee. Charlie told all he knew about Miss Lovebrace, which was not very much. If she was a high class prostitute, it was none of his business. If there had been any complaints, he would have passed them on to the Residents Association but there had not been any. She did have quite a few regular visitors, but he assumed they were business associates; she was a successful business woman with lots of different interests. No, he knew nothing of her family. The person she seemed closest to was Julie Bunford, who he had introduced to her a couple of years ago when she was looking for a cleaner. About six months ago they started a cleaning company called ProClean. From what he could gather, it was quite successful and Miss Lovebrace wanted her to become involved in the running of her other companies, which didn’t really surprise him because Julie Bunford was a good worker and not really a cleaner; she had worked for a Bank at one time. He and Sandra always went out on Friday evenings, they were back around 11pm and went to bed shortly afterwards. They did not hear anything, although Major and Mrs Dodds, in apartment 15, on the fourth floor, reckon they heard the service lift working in the early hours.

  Cardhew drained the last inch of cold coffee from his cup and handed it to Sandra Bell. ‘Thank you Mrs Bell, that was most welcome. So, Charlie, who would use the service lift to the penthouse?

  Charlie Bell thought for a moment. ‘The gardener uses it to get to the roof garden, but he only has the code to get into the garden, not the penthouse. Julie Bunford always used it. In fact she still does, even though she’s a business partner.’

  ‘Were you responsible for giving her the code?’

  ‘No, Miss Lovebrace would have done that.’

  ‘So she could have given it to anyone else she trusted?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘Do you know the code?’

  ‘Yes, I have the door codes for all the apartments.’

  ‘Where are they kept?’

  ‘In the safe in my office.’

  ‘Which is where?’

  ‘Behind my desk in the lobby; it’s little more than broom cupboard really.’

  ‘Fine, well we’ll just have a look at that if we may, and perhaps you could take me up to see Major and Mrs Dodds.’

  As they walked through the lobby, Cardhew whispered to Jennie Leadbetter. ‘Go to Julie Bunford’s address. Break the news gently; then find out where she was between 9pm yesterday and 6am this morning. Apologise; tell her it’s routine but as she was her business partner, we will need to speak to her again later. I’ll see what the folks in apartment 15 have to say; then high tail it back to the station – see if I can stop Kimberley making a fool of himself.’

  She smiled. ‘I don’t know why you bother sir. I mean, give him enough rope and all that.’

  ‘Jennie, give Kimberley enough rope and he’ll hang us all.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

  Natasha’s dream had taken a weird turn. Every woman she met as she walked along Hamsworth High Street was wearing an item of DebTash lingerie. Her reflection was magnified in a shop window as she walked along; she was wearing her favourite black and gold corset. Then, in the next shop window, she was naked! There was nowhere to hide her nakedness, until miraculously, her car appeared. She leapt into it and drove off at great speed – in reverse and out of control. A group of cyclists, men and women, wearing Debtash corsets appeared around a corner, but no matter how hard she stamped on the brake pedal, the brakes would not work. She crashed into them and they scattered in a cacophony of bicycle bells.

  She woke with a start, the door bell wringing. She rolled over onto her back, but Barrie had managed to put his thing into her as she slept. She shouted crossly at him. ‘Barrie – for heaven’s sake, give me chance to wake-up.’ Her flailing arm landed harmlessly on his pillow. He wasn’t there! She felt between her legs and pulled out a long pink vibrator.

  The door bell rang again. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, put on her dressing gown and stumbled towards the door. The bell rang again as she reached the top of the stairs – and again as she reached the bottom. Pausing to make sure the gown was secure; she opened the door to find Dudley Wink, smiling at her.

  ‘Sorry if I woke you Mrs Billingsgate. Saw the garage open and your husband’s car gone, so thought you must be up.’

  ‘That’s alright Dudley. I must have dozed off. Is there something to sign for?’

  ‘No, just a couple of things. Management have made me reverse my round, which means that as from Monday, you won’t be getting your letters until late morning. Thought you ought to know – just in case.’

  She brushed loose strands of hair away from her cheek. ‘Thanks for letting us know, I’m sure we’ll get used to i
t. What was the other thing?’

  He stepped forward to speak confidentially and received an unexpected bonus – she reeked of sex. Must have been shagging all night, no wonder she looked tired. He took the stained letter, which he had deliberately hidden under the bills and circulars, and lifted it to her eye level.

  ‘It’s this letter Natasha.’ He felt confident enough to call her by her first name as he inhaled her own special fragrance and waved the letter. ‘It’s in a hell of a state – very late reaching our office. That’s criminal; someone should be shot. I hope it’s not important?’

  She gave him a smile, she quite liked Dudley, he was round and jolly. Barrie couldn’t stand the way he looked at her, but she could see no harm in him. ‘I don’t think we can go around shooting one of your colleagues, just because one letter is late Dudley.’

  Her warm smile and fragrance was a heady mixture for Dudley. He lowered the sheaf of bills and circulars to cover his excitement. His prick was incredibly stiff and he was beginning to think that if he could keep her talking long enough, he might, with a few furtive strokes, be able to cream in his underpants as she opened the envelope. ‘Did you see the photograph of the Meltcon fire on the front of the Bugle?’

  She nodded. It was something she vaguely remembered.

  ‘That was mine. I took it just as that bloke ran out through the flames.’

  ‘It’s a fantastic photo.’

  He swelled with pride. ‘It’s been syndicated around the world. Do you know Peter Bunford? He’s been appointed as manager of Hamsworth Rugby Club.’

  ‘Yes, I met him at the club with my husband on…’ Her voice drifted off. Had she noticed the small movements he was making with the hand holding the envelopes in front of his eager prick. He smiled and offered her the letter which he was desperate to see her open. Once those beautiful slender fingers touched his dried semen, he would ejaculate and she would be his!