Diane and the Copper

"God! You are so gorgeous." She smiled and just stood, allowing me to look all I wanted. "There was a clean shirt in the drawer." She shook her head.

"No, I wanted this one, it smells of you." She lifted the front exposing more of her breast and sniffed. I was looking and admiring this beautiful, wonderful woman. She noticed my gaze and smiled.

"I adore having you look at me with so much desire in your eyes. It's like a warm wave washing over me. I love it." I had put some bread in the toaster, and filled the kettle. The toast popping up reminded us of why we were here, to eat! She found the butter in the fridge, and then pulled drawers until she found the knives.

"Have you any Jam?" I pointed to the larder cupboard.

"I think there is some in there." She searched and came up with a jar of Blackcurrant. She laughed.

"My favourite."

"Mine too." I responded.

We sat down to eat the toast and drink tea. It's funny how making love leaves you so thirsty. Diane was in playful mood.

"Right, Inspector Anderson. You didn't learn all that when we were young. I suspect that you didn't learn all that with your wife. So where have these lovely things you did with me come from? I especially liked it when you kissed me down there that was electrifying. Terry would never do that, but insisted I suck him. So who taught you? I hate her but am grateful to her as well." I grinned.

"It just comes naturally." Her eyes gleamed mischievously.

"I know. We both came naturally, quite a lot of times in my case. It just goes to show that when you are with the right man, your body takes over, and boy! Did my body take over? Now come on, confess. Where did you get your practice?"

"After Shirley divorced me, I admit that I did have a couple of relationships. One was with another Sergeant."

"What? Are you telling me you did it with another man?"

"A woman Sergeant, Diane. We are not supposed to add the prefix 'woman' to police ranks now. It's not politically correct." I drank some tea. "Now where was I? Oh yes. She was also divorced, and funnily enough approached me in the first place. In essence she suggested that as we were both single again, we should get together from time to time to exercise. Only she didn't mean exercise in a gym, but in her bed. There was little emotion involved, she was just relieving her frustrations as was I. She was in her forties and had quite a large repertoire." Diane grinned.

"Such as?"

"I'll leave it to your imagination. But you seemed to enjoy one of the activities she encouraged me to do." Diane smiled remembering.

"Mm. I did, didn't I? What else?" I shook my head. "Come on, Pug. Give me a clue." I laughed.

"Ok. Well for one she liked being taken in the back."

"You mean Doggie?"

"Yes, but that wasn't what I meant. Not quite." Her face was one big question mark. I went on. "I really mean in the back."

"No!" I smiled at her expression of shock as understanding came to her. "In the...I mean up the back..?" I nodded.

"Yep. In the bum." Her face was a picture.

"I...I never thought, I mean." She fixed me with her eyes. "You're not kidding?" I shook my head. "Bloody hell! Terry had limited ideas in that direction. Mainly it was him enjoying himself. That he thought was sufficient for both of us." She looked up at me with a small smile. "At the risk of making you more big-headed than you are already, you did more for me in these last few hours than Terry did in fourteen years."

"Diane. If I was good, it was only because I was making love to you. Any other woman and it would just be mediocre." I think Diane was pleased with that reply as she got up, came round the table and sat on my knee. She kissed me deeply taking my hand and placing on her breast.

"Good answer." She thought for a moment. "Pug, anything you want from a woman, I will give you, whatever it is. I want to do everything but you will have to lead me and if you want to have my bum the answer's yes. I might enjoy that." She giggled. " Lord, what fun we are going to have." This conversation was interesting but the future it suggested would not happen unless Diane did get divorced, and she was showing reluctance to do anything about that.

"Diane. This is all pie in the sky unless you do get a divorce. I know something is holding you back, and you don't want to talk about it, but you have to. Next time we get together you must tell me what the problem is. Think about it, whatever it is maybe I can help." She searched my face for a moment, then nodded.

CHAPTER FIVE

I didn't hear from Diane for some days. Perhaps she was avoiding me as she wasn't ready to talk about whatever it was that held her back. From what she had said when we were together that afternoon her feelings for her husband were quite dead. So what was stopping her?

Bob Parrathwaite invited me out one evening for a drink. He proposed that we should tour the local clubs and pubs that catered for the more sleazy cliental. Coppers needed to know about the places where the criminal fraternity would gather, and needed to put names to faces. I was doing the driving for obvious reasons. We had made visits to a number of pubs with Bob drinking steadily but not to excess, I was on my usual water. Eventually we came to a night club I had heard of, 'The Abacus'. I doubted that the proprietor knew what an abacus was, however he knew how to make money. We signed in as members for the evening, paying fifteen pounds each for the privilege. The guy on reception would qualify as a gorilla, his well worn and greasy tuxedo stretched tightly over his shoulders and chest. As I signed the members register I, like all coppers, scanned the names of those who had signed in before. It's amazing how many 'Smiths' and 'Blacks' there are as well as one or two who I believed were dead. I am sure that A. Hitler and N. Bonaparte had left this mortal vale. We entered the club, it had been converted from a large old house, and the ground floor rooms had been knocked into one. To the one side there was a bar, to the right of that a plinth and sound desk for the disc jockey. Around the rest of the room were arranged small tables with two seat sofas either side, and some alcoves also containing small tables and sofas. The lighting was minimal, a low wattage bulb in a small table lamp for every table. There were spotlights over the small central area where dancing was possible but only if you wanted to slink around in the same spot. Bob headed towards a table that commanded a view of the whole club, but was tucked away in a corner in semi darkness. He moved the lamp so our faces would be in shadow. A waitress approached, she wore a black dress but there was little of it, the price for our drinks, a sparkling water and a gin and tonic, would have covered the cost of material in her dress easily. A flyer on the table told us that there would be an exotic entertainment later. Bob explained about the club.

"It started up about five years ago aimed at the young kids, but it didn't make money, so it was sold to the present owner, Eric Baddley. He wanted to turn it into a pole dancing club, but the licensing people wouldn't allow that, but he managed to get a licence for music and entertainment. The entertainment is usually a singer, a comedian and occasionally a stripper, but they are never described as such in the advertising. The waitresses may be on the game, but if so they are very discreet. The club attracts some naughty characters, so we like to look in from time to time to see who is talking to whom. The bloke on reception drops information from time to time."

"Is he on the register?" I asked. The regulations call for all informants to be logged so that payments can be made. They are on the police computer where such information can be accessed by other Forces and the Home Office. The problem is that some Civil Servants in the Home Office are very casual about security, and a few years ago details of some informants were leaked. Those identified as 'grasses' were attacked shortly after, badly beaten up and a couple even murdered. That system is still in place, but some coppers knowing the laissez-faire attitude of the Civil Servants towards security keep secret their best snouts. Bob shook his head at my question.

"No he's not. Not that it would be dangerous for him, can you imagine anyone picking on him?" Good point, anyone stupid enough to try would undoubtedly end up in hospital. We sipped our drinks and Bob grimaced at his Gin and Tonic.

"It's a bit stupid to try that trick this early in the evening." He called the waitress. He explained civilly that the glass should be held under the Optic to get the measure of Gin, not stood upside down in the saucer just to get the flavour around the rim. She had the grace to blush. I was aware of the trick. Stand a glass on its rim in a saucer with a little Gin in, then when someone asks for a Gin and Tonic, just pour tonic into the glass. It may not fool everybody, but someone who had indulged for the evening would be unlikely to spot the con.

Bob would point out to me faces of men known to be involved in criminality, but for the most part the customers were single men and couples who had got up enough courage to brave the seedy side of life. He was spotted a few times by those who for one reason or another had dealings with the police. Those who did recognise him took seats well away, one furtive guy, took one look at Bob and promptly turned around and left.

"That was Ally Simmonds," explained Bob. "He was probably carrying a load of stolen credit cards, hoping to sell them." I grinned. The longer he has to hang on to the cards the less value they have as the block from the issuing Bank takes effect. "It's a pity he clocked me," Bob continued, "it would have been interesting to see who he tried to sell them to."

We had been sitting talking quietly for a while when Bob muttered softly. "Oh Shit!". I looked up to see who could have engendered this comment and saw Terry Bowden accompanied by Diane. Thankfully Terry spotted someone quite quickly without scanning the room, and taking his wife by the hand pulled her towards that someone. I sat back so that Diane, should she look, could not see me, and Bob tried hard to recognise the man that Terry and Diane had joined. The man helped in that as he sat forward to greet them.

"Bingo!" Whispered Bob. "That is Radic, the guy we suspect as being the mover in this car racket. He is rumoured to be an illegal immigrant and we are not even certain his name is Radic. It has been suggested that he is here because the Russian Mafia want him dead. Whatever he is being a very naughty boy whilst he's our guest. Now we know for certain that Terry is involved with him." We watched covertly for a while as Terry bought drinks for the party and was patently obvious in his efforts to curry favour with Radic. I watched Diane and her body language told me plainly that she didn't want to be there, yet Terry was encouraging her to chat with the man. It suddenly came to me. He was going to pimp her! I was filled with rage. Bob had come to the same conclusion and it was only his restraining hand on my arm that prevented me from taking action.

"Don't worry, she will be alright." He pulled out his mobile and phoned his D.S. "Harry! Get some of the lads and a couple of cars together. I want some surveillance done outside the Abacus. I'll indicate the targets when they leave. Get here as quickly as you can."

The next half-hour was agony for me as Terry bullied Diane into being nice to Radic, she even had to dance with him, and the sight of his hands touching her body in an intimate manner was excruciating. Her face was set in an attitude of resigned distaste. Bob was talking to me all the time, calming me down.

"When they leave Andy, I shall follow them out, but you, Mate, will stay here. Mrs. Bowden would recognise you for a start, but mainly because you could bugger up an investigation if you lose your rag." Unwillingly I had to agree.

It was another half hour before the trio moved. Terry got up first and walked away leaving Radic to escort an unhappy Diane to the exit. Bob let them get out into the vestibule before following. I remained, angry and uncertain. Twice I got up to leave before sitting again, my training as a policeman overcoming my natural instincts. Bob had recommended that I wait for at least half an hour before leaving, but I failed. Twenty minutes had gone by before I could stand the suspense no longer and I left the club to see what was happening. The car park was deserted apart from the cars of the clientele, no Terry, no Diane, no Bob and no Radic, nor any of the detectives that Bob had summoned. I walked slowly to my car, hoping that by taking my time someone would miraculously appear. I had started my car and was backing out of the parking space when a car turned in momentarily lighting me up with the headlights. I stopped quickly as the driver was obviously in a hurry. The car braked to a halt behind me, effectively blocking me in and Bob got out of the passenger door. He came to my car and opened the nearside door.

"Couldn't wait, Andy?"

"No. What happened?" He shook his head.

"Nothing really. Terry obviously wanted his wife to go with Radic, and she was not having any. Radic said nothing at all. Then Terry made as to hit her, and Radic caught his arm. Bowden stalked off angrily and Diane followed him. Radic got in his car and drove off with my guys following him. Harry and I followed Bowden to see if he had plans, but he drove home. Once they had gone in the house we came back here. End of story." I was unhappy with what appeared to me an inconclusive end to the saga. But even with my feelings for Diane I would not interfere between husband and wife, well not until divorce proceedings were underway.

CHAPTER SIX

The next day was a rest day, so when the phone rang at just after seven in the morning I was not particularly happy. I stumbled out of bed expecting to hear from the Superintendent on duty asking me to come in and substitute for an absent colleague. At first I didn't hear anything so repeatedly announced my name. Then I heard a groan and my policemen brain switched in.

"Who's there, this is Inspector Anderson. Are you in trouble? Tell me your name please?" The groan came again then a pained voice whispered.

"Pug. It's me, Diane. I'm hurt." Used as I was I could recognise pain in a voice and I heard it then in Diane's voice..

"I'm on my way. Can you open the door?" There was silence for a moment then she said.

"Back door is unlocked."

"Ok. Don't move. I'll be there as soon as possible."

I dressed faster than ever before and was out of the flat in five minutes. Not caring about speed limits I was at Diane's house in fifteen minutes. The habits of the job had kicked in and on the way used the in car phone that the force insisted was fitted to senior ranks personal cars. I called in and told the Desk Sergeant what I knew and suspecting that Diane needed medical help I told him to get an ambulance there. Mr. Fearnly was outside the house when I arrived. He hurried to give me a report.

"The neighbours reported that there was a disturbance here early this morning, shouting and screaming. You got here quickly, I'm impressed, as I have only just called the police." I didn't bother to disabuse him of that impression.

"Would you stay here and keep the road clear for my colleagues and an ambulance?" He eagerly agreed. I ran up the drive heading toward the back gate beside the garage. It was locked. I took a step back and lunged forward, kicking the gate with my foot flat just under the lever. The gate swung back, the screws holding the bolt having ripped from the jamb. I followed the path round until I came to the back door. Normally at this point a policeman would announce his entry calling loudly who he was. I didn't bother, just opening the door and stepping into the kitchen. I quickly checked the downstairs rooms, a precaution in case there was someone on the premises that could be dangerous. I found nothing, so went cautiously up the stairs. I found Diane lying on the carpet at the top of the stairs; her face was bloody and seemed out of shape, her right forearm was bent with a swelling at the point of the bend. Someone had had beaten her up, badly. She was only wearing a nightgown. She lifted her left hand and I grasped it in mine.

"Pug! Thank God, you're here." Her voice was distorted.

"Don't talk for the moment; the ambulance is on its way. We'll get you to hospital and they will sort you out." She shivered. "Are you cold?"

"A bit." I went into the bedroom and got the duvet which I laid over her. The lessons of the compulsory first aid course we all had to take reminding me that she shouldn't be moved. My cursory look around down stairs had me believe that this wasn't the result of a burglary gone wrong. I was convinced that this was Terry's doing. I knelt by her side and caressed her hand. She tried to smile but winced with pain instead.

"I love you, Pug." I put my finger to my lips.

"Shush Diane. I love you too." I was trying to think what I could do to help. "I am going to open the front door for the ambulance men. Oh by the way I have broken your side gate."

"Fuck the side gate!" I smiled, she was fighting.

I opened the front door just as the first responders came up the path. Two uniformed officers, one a policewoman. I told the policeman to have a good look around outside. The policewoman I directed upstairs. I was turning to go back upstairs when another car arrived. It was Bob Parrathwaite; it was evident that he had dressed as quickly as I did.

"What happened, Andy?" I filled him in with as much as I knew. "No signs of break-in? He asked.

"Not as far as I can see. I've got Robin Hurst looking around outside. But I don't think he will find anything." Bob nodded and looked at me.

"You're thinking Terry Bowden?" I nodded. He smiled grimly.

"Stupid. We pull him for this and turn his office in Erdington over. I am sure we will find something, and then he will go down." I was already there in my thinking. If a man is arrested for any offence the police have the right to search any premises he owns or rents, not just his home. If we find anything incriminating we can charge him with two offences. Bowden was an idiot.

"Harry's on his way. When he gets here we will go straight over to his car lot and if he's there we will arrest him. But we need Mrs. Bowden to tell us it was him."

"I'll go and talk to her." I told him.

The policewoman had done the first aid course as well, and had not moved Diane, just tucked the duvet around her making sure she kept warm. Bob had followed me upstairs; I knelt down and took Diane's hand. Making sure that the policewoman and Bob were listening.

"Diane just reply with a yes or no." She nodded. "Were there intruders?" We don't use the word Burglars now. She whispered.

"No."

"Who did this to you? Was it your husband, was it Terry?" Her face showed sadness and tears eased slowly from her eyes. I thought she wasn't going to answer so I squeezed her hand to re-assure her. Finally she answered.

"Yes." She mumbled. I looked at the policewoman to see if she had heard. She nodded her head, thus corroborating what I had heard. I looked at Bob.

"I'm on my way." Much as I would have liked to see Terry arrested there was no way that I was leaving Diane now, and her hand clinging to mine was a powerful argument. At that point the Paramedics came up the stairs so I had to stand back and let them do their job. The first thing they did was put a neck brace on her at the same time asking her name. I told them. They fussed checking her vital signs then put a saline drip in and fixed her right arm so that it was still when they moved her. Whilst the one did that, the other secured her jaw. Diane could not speak when that was done. After stabilising her they got her onto a back board and prepared to move her. They knew what they were doing, even so I hung around, probably getting in their way but Diane's eyes were always moving following me as I moved to keep out of the medic's way.