Jealousy is a Curse

DISCLAIMER: I have left some deliberate (or accidental) mistakes in this story. There is no prize for finding them. CM.

I put the citation pad back into the box on the back of my bike. I wondered how long it would be before I pulled over the next driver for some minor infraction and reach my quota for the day. I had just swung my leg over and kicked it off the stand, when I heard it, a car coming fast, way too fast.

I fired up and got ready to chase. A red Porsche came past at around a hundred and twenty in the eighty zone. Hitting my red and blues and siren I took off after it. I didn't close up on it, thinking that if I did the driver would speed up to try to outrun me, and that would not be good in that particular car. The road wound through the hills and just down the road it crested a rise only metres before a tight turn. If the driver didn't slow down, the result would be a disaster. One of the problems with Porsches, especially in the hands of an inexperienced driver, is that it will get airborne over a crest and, with eighty percent of its weight hanging behind the rear wheels, it would come down rear first. Porsche brakes do not work well with the front wheels off the ground, neither does the steering.

As expected, the Porsche was off the road and had hit a large tree. Fortunately for the driver, it was the rear end that took the brunt of the collision, the passenger compartment was largely unscathed, more than I could say for the driver.

I stood the bike on its stand and raced over to the car. I needed to get the driver out as quickly as possible, you never know, with the damage to the back of the car, a fire was a real possibility.

Opening the door, I was surprised to find a youngish woman with a dazed expression on her face. I unclipped her seat belt and began to ease her out, she wasn't helping. "Come on, let's get you out, this thing could blow on us."

"Fuck, Dad will kill me."

"If we don't get you out, he won't need to." I took her right arm and draped it over my shoulder, and slid my left arm around her body, trying not to grab a tit in the process, I eased her out of the car and sat her down a safe distance from it.

"How are you feeling?"

"A bit second hand if you must know."

"Just take it easy while I summon the troops, we need to get you to hospital." I used my radio to call for backup along with the ambos and firies. "While we're waiting, what were you running from?"

"Who says I was running from something or someone?"

"Well, there are no fires around here, can you think of any other reason for driving as fast as you were?"

"All right. I was running from my husband if you must know."

"Next question, why?"

"That mangled mess over there is, or was, a birthday present from my father. My husband didn't know and lost the plot, even when I told who had given it to me, I even showed him the card that came with it, not a good idea as it turned out He accused me of having an affair and the car was a gift from my lover, that was until he took a close look at the card. My father had written that the car was a 'glad you saw the light gift', in honour of me telling him that I planned to leave my husband."

"Your father didn't think much of your husband, is that it?"

"Not a lot, no, and even less over the past several months. My husband has this, bordering on pathological, jealous streak. He has been claiming that I have been unfaithful to the point that I daren't look at another man for fear of causing another reaction."

"Do these reactions get physical or are they just a lot of yelling and screaming?"

"Of late they have been physical. He knows where to hit me so that people won't believe me when I tell them that he beats me."

"Did he beat you this time?"

"Yes, I was on my way to get my father to take me to get treatment."

"I guess that you may not be able to prove that your injuries are as a result of him beating you, and not from your accident."

"When he finds out that I've had an accident he will hope that will be the case, but, before I left, I went to my room and took some selfies, the time and date stamp will prove that at least some of the bruising occurred before I had this accident."

"We have a few minutes before the troops arrive, so I might as well take notes. What is your name?"

"Zanna, short for Susanna, Wilson, that won't last long, I'm going to change back to my proper name as soon as possible."

"Zanna, I like that, your date of birth?"

"I don't remember it, I was a bit young at the time, but I have been reliably informed that it was twenty-five years ago, June eleventh."

"What do you do when you're not running into trees?"

"I'm a pathologist, I work in a Path Lab processing blood tests."

"That reminds me, I have to have one of my regular tests done to make sure that I'm not using illicit substances. Better get onto that."

"I'll keep an eye out for your samples and delete any substances that shouldn't be there. You'll have to tell me your name so that I can keep an eye out for them."

"That won't be necessary, but it's Peter, Peter Thomas."

"Peter Thomas what?"

"Peter Thomas nothing, Thomas is my family name. You were heading home to speak with your father, where does he live?"

"In Burnley, thirty-four Mason Street."

"But Burnley's in the opposite direction."

"I know. You asked me where he lived, but I wasn't going to where he lived, I was going to where he works and that's this way."

"What does your father do for a living?"

"He's the Coroner."

"Then I'm under no pressure to get my report right."

"I wouldn't quite go that far, legible will do."

"Do you have your mobile with you? You'd better give your father a ring and let him know that you've had an accident. In the meantime, I'll call for a tow truck to take the wreck to the impound yard."

"Hang on a minute, why are you impounding the car? I wasn't speeding, at least you're not booking me for speeding."

"I know that, but as a part of my report for the coroner, your father, we will have to investigate the possibility of mechanical failure as a causal factor. We have to do it by the book, won't we?"

"Does this mean that you will have to conduct a formal interview?"

"Yes."

"Your place or mine?"

"It will have to be yours, or the police station."

"You side-stepped that nicely."

"What do you mean?"

"Avoiding telling me that your wife might not approve you examining me at your place."

"My wife, now that's a thought, I really should get me one of them, any ideas?"

"Don't get any ideas, at least not yet."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a real prick tease? It's no wonder your husband thinks that you're having an affair, the way that you talk to men."

"I don't talk to every man like this, only the ones with potential, and they're few and far between."

"Flattery'll get you everywhere, at least dinner when you're well enough."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a pussy tease? I bet that you have no shortage of female dinner companions. If I were to hook up with you it will be me that will be getting jealous."

"If you hooked up with me, jealousy will not be a problem, strictly monogamous, that's me."

The arrival of an ambulance put an end to this conversational by-play. Zanna was checked over.

"We'll take her to A&E for observation, the injuries don't appear to be life threatening, but concussion could be an issue."

"How long do you expect her to be in hospital?"

"She'll probably be released this evening, or in the morning."

I walked with her to the ambulance. As she was loaded in, I gave her a card with my phone number on it, my mobile phone number. "Give me a call when they release you and I'll give you a police escort home."

"Will I get to ride on your bike?"

"Not this one, no, the box where the pillion seat would normally be is not that comfortable, but I can give you a ride in my personal and private bike if that's what you want?"

"What are my options?"

"The bike or my car."

"I suppose that your car is some macho V-eight that compensates for your tiny dick."

"No, it's not one of those and my dick needs no compensation. What's it to be?"

"Surprise me with your car, don't tell what it is I want to see how close my guess will be."

I parked my bike in the garage at the end of my shift and walked into the station to lodge my paperwork. "Senior constable, a word if you will." The request came from a well-dressed middle-aged man.

"Sure, how can I help you?"

"You attended a car accident a couple of hours ago, one involving my daughter and her Porsche."

"Yes, I did."

"I have just come from the hospital."

"Oh, how is she?"

"Fine, little damage. She tells me that you are to thank for that, and other things."

"What do you mean?"

"She told me that she was driving a little too fast when she had her accident, yet you have chosen not to book her for speeding, why is that?"

"A couple of reasons. Even if she wasn't speeding, and I can't prove that she was, she probably would have ended up wrapped around that tree. I would suggest that before you buy her a car that's inherently dangerous, you make sure that she knows the limitations of that car before she drives it."

"What do you mean?"

"Porsches are notorious for getting airborne over crests and, unless you are prepared for the consequences, it's better not to drive fast in these situations."

"I'll bear that in mind when I investigate this accident. I may need you to give evidence at the enquiry. If you know of examples of this type of accident, I'd like to see them."

"Sure. You could start by investigating the fatal incidents in the Targa (Australia) rallies, I'm pretty sure that all but one involved a Porsche."

"Zanna will be released from hospital in an hour or two, I understand that you have volunteered to drive her home, correct?"

"Yes."

"You will be taking her to my place, you are invited to stay for dinner, that's an order from her by the way."

"I've never been one to disobey an order. I guess that I'll see you later."

I was in my best casual clothes and seated in the entrance of the hospital when Zanna arrived, accompanied by a nurse. "Now I understand why you were so anxious to get out of here," The nurse said, "He's cute."

"Down girl, you don't stand a chance, not with me around."

They arrived at me. "Zanna has been instructed to take it easy for a day or two," the nurse said, "no heavy exercise, she has some bruising around her ribs that will be painful if she indulges in strenuous exercise, and definitely no heavy breathing."

"You're no fun, do you know that." Zanna smiled, she wasn't having any of that, "Here I am, planning some intense carnal exercise and you tell me that I can't."

"I'm sure that we can get around that," I said, "If we take it slow and gentle, we should be able to manage."

"Like that's gunna happen. See ya, and you have been told."

"Let's get out of here." She just about dragged me out of the hospital. "Where have you got this mysterious car parked?"

"In the car park."

We rode up in the lift to the top floor of the car park and I led her to my car.

"Okay, you got me, I never would have thought you'd have one of these." She stopped and took it all in before doing a lap to see it from all sides. I can see that it's a Citroen C5 but whatever made you buy one of these?"

"I grew up with Citroens, Dad had a DS and then an XM turbo that was borderline scary. When it came to my turn, I had to settle on this, my Citroen of choice, a C6 was just a little out of my price range." I opened the door for her. "Jump in, we'll see if you like it."

She sat silently for about ten minutes. "I like it. Do you know where we're going?"

"No, I was hoping that you'd tell me."

By the time we had reached our destination her hand had been busy, and she had me barred up something fierce. "This isn't fair, with a bra on there's nothing to show when you get excited, but for us blokes we have to wait until it goes down before we can stand up. You don't want me to make the wrong impression with your parents, do you?"

"I would have thought that it'd be the right impression, you fancy their daughter and aren't afraid to show it. Oh, all right, we'll wait for him to go down. By the way, I'm not wearing a bra."

I took a closer look and yes, her nipples were pushing hard against her top, and I hadn't even touched them, or her thighs. This was one horny woman.

Dinner was a far cry from my previous interactions with Zanna, it was all very polite. George, her father, asked my opinion on various problems, as he saw them, with the powers that bes attempts to legislate stupidity out of drivers in this country.

"The biggest problem I find is that learner drivers are not taught anything more than how to drive to the shopping centre, they have little understanding of the capabilities and limitations of their vehicle or themselves. When drivers get into an unfamiliar vehicle, they tend to drive off as if they'd been driving them for year. I'm not just saying this because of Zanna's incident this morning, the same thin applies for everyone."

"But the cost of obtaining a licence would be out of the reach of just about everyone." George said.

"Factor that against the cost of repairing drivers and vehicles when there is an accident. Factor that against fewer accidents means fewer insurance claims, fewer hospital bills. These costs are ginormous. Of course, there is a downside."

"Do tell."

The fewer accidents mean less work for crash repairers to the point that there will be fewer needed. The same goes for insurance companies. Industries and employment depend on motor vehicle accidents."

Late in the evening the subject was raised about my driving home. I admit to consuming the odd chuckle juice or several, to the point that I should not be driving. Zanna had been generous when topping up my glass.

"I can't allow you to drive. How would it look if you were pulled over by a booze bus, (mobile random breath testing station) you being a policeman and all. You will just have to stay here for the night, won't he Dad?"

"If I didn't know better, I'd think that you had something to do with his condition."

"Who Sir, me Sir, no Sir." Her protestations of innocence fell on deaf ears.

"Can you two be trusted to behave, or do we have to make up the spare bed?" Jane, her mother, asked.

"Silly questions. We will share my bed, and nothing will happen that has not been pre-ordained."

"Zanna, I don't know what your expectations are for this evening, but all temptation aside, I do not have sex on the first date, if that is what this is. Now the second date, that's an entirely different matter. I do not believe in rushing into things, although, based on our interactions this morning, I am in danger of forgetting about. Do you think that you can hold off until tomorrow?"

"Morning or night?"

"Better make that night. Stop that!" I brushed away her hand that was paying close attention to my raging cock in an effort to force me to change my mind."

"Spoilsport." She reluctantly let him go.

My dream of sharing a bed with an amazing woman became a reality when that amazing woman was heard to whisper, "At last, I just about have RSI trying to wake him up."

"I thought I said that I do not have sex on a first date."

"That you did, but that was yesterday, today is the tomorrow that you said we could do it."

"That is some convoluted logic, but no, it ain't going to happen, at least not until tonight, there is a strong possibility of it happening then."

"Yay! I told Dad that we could do it, he reckoned that my past experience would kick in and I'd jump into this and forget about long term commitments. We do have long term commitments, don't we."

"We shall see what we shall see. Now, I have to love you and leave you because I will have to swing by mine and get into my uniform, gotta keep the taxman happy."

Zanna kissing me goodbye at the front door was too much for her husband. His car was parked across the road, the one he was running across. "So, you're the arsehole that's been screwing my wife!" He screamed at me as I walked to my car. "I knew that she was lying when she denied having a lover, I knew it, the lying bitch!"

I walked as casually as I could to face him. "Do I know you?"

"No, but you certainly know my wife, you've been fucking her."

"The fact that I have not had a sexual relationship with a woman in at least three months would seem to negate that possibility. If I have not fucked your wife and I would be very careful when and where I say that you could be had up for slander. I'm sure that Mister Larkham and his family will be only too willing to act as witnesses. I was invited to dinner by him to discuss several matters in relation to his daughter's accident." I walked back to my car and climbed in. He was still standing there when I began to reverse out of the driveway and had to step aside to avoid being run over.

Another day, another dollar, and a number of unhappy motorists with tickets for sometimes trivial breaches of the road traffic rules. I had just signed off for the day and was looking forward to this evening when I got a message to call the impound yard. "Thomas here, what's the problem?"

"That car that we brought in yesterday, the Porsche that ringbarked the tree, well, we had a look at it and, you interviewed the driver, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Did she mention a spongey brake pedal at all?"

"No, what are you telling me?"

"She was going to have an accident whether she liked it or not. Someone had tampered with the brakes."

"You're sure of that?"

"Very. I noticed traces of brake fluid on the inner guard, that got me looking. It wasn't much of a hole but there it was, a minute hole in the flexible hose to a front calliper. Every time the brake pedal was pushed, as small amount of fluid would have been forced out to be replaced by air. It would have taken a while and many depressions before she had no brakes, but it would have happened."

"Can you put that in a report for me?"

"Sure thing, do you want happy snaps to go with it?"

"That would be helpful. Thank you."

I had yet to reach my car when my phone rang. "Thomas here, speak to me."

"Where are you taking me to dinner?"

"Who am I speaking to?"

"Bastard, it's Zanna, the love of your life and soon to be life partner."

"Oh, I hadn't given a lot of thought to this evening. Let me think now, I tell you what, I'll pick you up at six-thirty and it'll be a surprise. I need to speak to your father."

"Are you going to ask him if you can marry me?"

"I wasn't, but that's a thought."

"You're a man of mystery, I like that. I'll be waiting for you."

I don't know what the neighbours would have thought, if they happened to be looking out the front at the time, to witness her racing out the front door and launching herself at me with such force that I almost ended up on my back on the front lawn. Her welcoming kiss had an undeniable enthusiasm to it that took my breath away.

We eventually went inside. George was there. "You wanted to speak to me about something, I assume that it has something to do with Zanna's accident."

"It may have been an accident, but it wasn't, technically. This has become a case of attempted murder."

"What do you mean?"

"It appears that her brakes had been tampered with. I'll know more tomorrow when I get the full report."

"Will you be able to establish who the culprit was?"

"A lot depends on whether he did it himself, or whether he hired someone to do it. If he was solely responsible, unless there was a witness, or unless he confesses, we'll probably never be sure."

"We might be able to stir the pot a little." Zanna said.