One for the Team Ch. 06

Chapter Six -- Smells Like Poison

May 1986

Mrs Frobisher turned out to be a rather attractive forty-something matron who exuded suppressed sexuality with her tight skirt and jacketed business suit, long legs, stiletto heels, red hair and milky-white skin. Detective Sergeant Archie Sanders fell in behind her breathing in her scent, his eyes locked on her Rubenesque hips and bottom. This was not lost on his partner Detective Constable Sandra Tingle who smiled wryly to herself as she walked beside him and explained the public school tradition of fagging. She suspected that Mrs Frobisher inhabited the fantasies of many of the all-male students when they filled 'crusty the sock' before they drifted off to sleep. She also suspected that Mrs Frobisher was well aware of the fact.

"This is Charles Ward's dormitory. It's a premium single apartment so mommy and daddy must have plenty of money. Well that's a silly statement, all of our students parents have plenty of money, except the scholarship students, but anyway it doesn't come cheap," she held out the key to Archie who took it, trying hard not stare at Mrs Frobisher's ample décolletage.

"I'll go and collect Robert Fellows for you during the break between lectures."

He watched her hips swing seductively as she walked back down the corridor.

"What do you make of her?" Archie turned to Sandra who was leaning against the wall amused by her partner's fascination with the woman's derriere.

She looked up and down the corridor and seeing it was empty she stepped into Archie, her face inches from his.

"I think that if you think about her when you're fucking me tonight I'm going to do this," she reached between his legs and squeezed his balls.

Archie squealed like a girl.

"That's not fair! It's like saying don't think of an elephant," Archie complained.

"Shall we get back to work Detective Sergeant?" she nodded at the door.

Archie unlocked the door to Charles Ward's dormitory and they stepped inside and closed it. The first thing they noticed was the scent of perfume.

"Smells like Poison," Sandra Tingle sniffed the air.

Now that Charles was a middle houseman, soon to become an upper houseman, he was no longer subject to dormitory inspections and he no longer needed to keep Charlotte's accoutrements locked away. As Archie and Sandra methodically searched the room they were surprised to find that if they didn't know better they would assume that the room was inhabited by both a man and a woman.

Charles' uniforms were neatly hung on one side of the wardrobe, his shoes and rugby boots neatly arranged beneath the hangers, the drawers full of underwear, sports attire and casual wear. The other side of the wardrobe contained a selection of ladies garments, expensive high heels placed under the hanging clothes, the drawers full of lingerie and hosiery. Three coiffed wigs were neatly arranged on styrofoam wig-stands.

"Looks like she does her own domestics," Archie joked as he held up the French maid's uniform for Sandra to see.

"That's more fetishic than practical Archie," Sandra commented flippantly.

"No shit," Archie hung the garment back where he'd found it.

"We'll get SOCO up here when they've finished at the cottage," Sandra called as she entered the small bathroom.

The selection of cosmetics far outweighed the meagre supplies of male toiletries. She noticed the rubber douche on the side of the bath-shower combination and winced. The array of makeup and perfume continued on the dresser in the bedroom. Tucked into the top left corner of the dresser's mirror was a cheap postcard embossed with cheerful scenes of the Brighton Pier and seafront. She turned it over and found an inscription that Charlotte had written and also the words 'courtesy of the Ambassador Guesthouse' with the address and phone number of the establishment beneath it. Sandra put the card on the dresser to be bagged and entered into evidence but she took down the number in her notebook.

Scattered around the room were texts, manuscripts and reference books, as one would expect for someone studying for a Bachelor of Commerce. On the nightstand she found a slim file.

The file was unmarked but inside was a thick sheaf of paperwork related to gender transitioning. There were press articles, serious position papers, case studies, legal documents and photographs.

"What do you make of this?" Sandra spread the documents out on the bed, her surgically-gloved fingers having difficulty separating individual sheets of paper.

Archie looked over her shoulder at the assortment of papers.

"What do you make of it?" he asked.

"Looks like our girl might have been considering gender reassignment; that is she wanted to become a full-time woman," Sandra pointed to a case study of a woman who had gone to Thailand for surgical treatment.

"I'll bet mommy and daddy would not be happy with that," Archie commented.

"Don't do that Archie. The poor parents haven't even been notified yet and you're taking their inventory like you know them," Sandra scolded him.

"Look around this place Sandra. They are paying a fortune to send their son to an elite boarding school that is run like something out of Tom Brown's School Days and he's playing hide the sausage while dressed as a girl. How do you think they're going to react," Archie replied.

Sandra nodded her head. There was no denying Archie's assumption was likely spot on.

"Check this out," Archie handed Sandra an eight by five index card.

The front of the card was embossed with pictures of four attractive young ladies dressed stylishly but posed provocatively. One of the young ladies was the young woman found dead in the cottage. On the back of the card was imprinted the words 'One For The Team -- Gentlemen's Club'.

"What do you make of that?" Archie asked.

Sandra turned the card over in her fingers and studied it.

"It's almost like an advertising flyer but more upmarket... more personal. Almost like a business card," she ruminated.

"You don't suppose they were advertising their services?" she studied the card closer.

"Look. This other blonde girl could be a genetic woman but the other two... they're attractive but I'd bet my left nipple that they're transvestites," she handed the card to Archie who scrutinised it and then put it into an evidence bag.

"This shit sandwich just got bigger. Let's keep this to ourselves for now until we find out if it has anything to do with the investigation," Archie put the cellophane evidence bag into his pocket.

There was a knock on the door and a young man poked his head around it.

"I'm Robert Fellows. I was told you wanted to see me?" Robert said nervously.

"In your room please Mister Fellows," Sandra smiled at him; no need to antagonise a potential witness.

"Did you notice this?" Archie tapped on the interconnecting door between to the two dorms.

Sandra nodded. She also noticed that it was securely bolted on this side.

Archie took an instant dislike to the overly-confident, arrogant young man with the French-cut hairstyle, classic good looks and deep blue eyes. Robert flopped down in an overstuffed armchair and looked at the two police officers like they were dogshit stuck to his shoe.

Archie decided to knock the wind out of his sails.

He walked over and dropped the forensic photographs in Robert's lap. Robert turned one over and his arrogance and confidence dissipated in a second.

"Oh my god Charlotte!" he cried.

He flipped through the remaining photographs and then threw them on the table like they were too hot to touch.

"Who's Charlotte?" Sandra asked sitting down beside him uninvited.

"She's Charlotte," Robert extended a shaky finger towards the pictures.

"Is Charlotte also Charles Ward, the student who rooms next door to you," Sandra nodded to the interconnecting door.

"Well yes and no. They're the same person except they're not really. Charles plays rugby and studies Commerce; he takes some of the same classes as I do and he's in my House. I'm the housemaster of Bridge House," Robert was regaining his confidence.

"And he used to be your fag?" Sandra encouraged him.

"Well yes, when he was a lower houseman. All of the students had to fag for an upper houseman during their first year, but the college has stopped the practice," Robert explained.

"And he lived next door to you? That's very convenient," Archie nodded at the interconnecting door.

"Oh no! He wasn't allowed to use that door; he had to come to the front door. Anyway he stopped fagging for me over a year ago," Robert said dismissively.

"And what about Charlotte? Did she use that door?" Archie asked.

They watched Robert squirm while he considered his answer.

"Some time during his first year Charles confessed to the House counsel that he was a crossdresser and offered his services so to speak," Robert began.

"Look... none of us are gay... as in homosexual... but you've seen her. Charlotte is very attractive if you like that sort of thing. We let her provide us with oral and hand relief. She liked it and we liked it. It was a matter of convenience for us, that's all," Robert straightened the crease of his trousers and dug into his blazer looking for cigarettes.

"But she lived next door. We have searched her room. It would appear to us that Charles spent all of his time as Charlotte when he was in there," Archie leaned forward and extended his lighter, lighting Robert's cigarette.

"She has a French maid's uniform and that door just looks too inviting not to use when you have an attractive transvestite living right next door who according to you 'offers her services'," Archie stared at Robert who looked away.

"Ok. Charlotte came into my room one day dressed in that ridiculous costume and she offered me regular oral services, which I accepted. But after a while I realised that what I was doing was quite inappropriate; I'm engaged to be married. I stopped all that nonsense a year ago," Robert could not meet Archie's eyes.

"So you had a sexual relationship with Charles Ward for a little over a year and then called it off?" Archie continued.

"Not with Charles Ward! With Charlotte! I was with Charlotte! I'm not a poofter!" Robert screeched.

"You don't understand! Other than on the rugby field I had nothing to with Charles once he stopped being my fag. Charlotte was another person, a different personality entirely," Robert began to regain control of his temper.

"She could be beguiling, manipulative, seductive. She had sex with most of the House council and god knows how many other men on the campus. She was a whore! That's another reason I stopped letting her in here."

"She was a joke on campus. Charlotte the harlot they called her. Her and that other slag Wendy," Robert stubbed out his cigarette.

"Wendy?" Sandra asked, scribbling in her notebook.

"Ask that fag William Larkin. He is a poofter. A snot-nosed, dirt-poor, scholarship student who likes to dress up as Wendy; Bendy Wendy the chaps call her. You can imagine why," Robert stood up and straightened his blazer and tie.

"So you're telling us that there were two transvestites on the campus who were very promiscuous and that members of the House council and possibly other students used them for sex?" Archie was dubious about the claim.

"Look. Unless you want to formally interview me I've said all I'm going to say and if that is the case I will be calling on my father's lawyer to sit in. Now if you'll excuse me I have a lecture to attend," Robert went to the door and held out his hand to indicate they should leave.

"I don't suppose you'd consent to a search of your dormitory?" Archie asked cheekily.

Robert closed the door with some finality and locked it. He stormed down the corridor back to the campus.

"Your shit sandwich just got bigger," Sandra said.

"Did you notice the scratches on the backs of his hands?" she asked and Archie nodded.

"You didn't ask him about them?" she looked at him speculatively.

"No. I want to see what forensics they come up with on the body. They'll do it anyway but we'll get them to expedite any trace evidence they find under Charlotte's fingernails," Archie said.

"But until we can put him at the crime scene and I can confront him with any trace evidence I don't want him concocting an alibi. The most obvious one would be to say he got the wounds playing rugby, or training. Let's let him think we didn't notice for now."

"Lock the door to Charlotte's room and let's get Sarah and her team up here. If they've finished with the crime scene we'll have another look around the cottage and then head into town and sort out some digs. Check in with the Chief Superintendent and let her know what we have but let's not get into specifics," Archie sighed.

"You called her Charlotte," Sandra commented.

Archie looked at one of the crime scene photographs.

"Well it appears that's who she is. It's almost like Charles was just a habit Charlotte wore for convenience," Archie replied.

"And that young toff was lying through his teeth," Archie tapped the photograph against his palm.

When Archie and Sandra returned to the cottage Charlotte's body had been removed and the SOCO team were packing up.

"We've made a preliminary identification of the deceased; Charles Ward otherwise known as Charlotte Ward. We've searched her dormitory but I'd like your team to give it the once over and also take some pictures," Archie held out the key to Charlotte's room.

"You keep referring to her in the feminine vernacular," Sarah Pheffington said taking the key.

"We've interviewed the headmaster and the man who lives in the adjacent dorm. It would appear that Charles attended classes and was achieving a solid academic performance but that he spent most of his free time as Charlotte. It would also appear that Charlotte was considering gender reassignment surgery," Archie explained.

"Archie, can you follow me please," Sarah led Archie to a small grove of trees out of the way of the others.

"About a year ago I attended a crime scene in a brothel in one of the seedier areas of London. It was a thriving concern but it was a real shithole. That cottage reminds me of it. Some effort has been made to clean the place up and make it comfortable for the punters while they wait but it's really just a blow-and-go establishment," Sarah explained.

"But this establishment, if that's what it is, has no business being on the grounds of a prestigious university. I found an envelope full of these," Sarah handed Archie one of the index cards with the pictures of the provocatively dressed attractive young ladies embossed on it.

"It's similar to the solicitation or 'tart cards' found in telephone boxes. They even named the dump: 'One For The Team'," Sarah pointed to the card.

"We found one in Charlotte's dorm. It would appear that good old Chelmsford College had a knocking shop operating on the grounds staffed by transvestite prossies. I've promised the stick-up-his-arse headmaster discretion and warned out the local bill. If this gets out the scandal sheets will have a field day. Make sure your team are briefed accordingly," Archie said.

"We're SOCO Archie; some of the things we've seen would curl you're your toes and we could write a best seller with all the scandal we know," she patted him assuredly on the arm.

Archie patted his pockets looking for his cigarettes.

"Light me one of those will you? I can't get to anything wearing this suit," Sarah removed her gloves and pulled down the hood of her coveralls and Archie realised that Sarah was quite attractive.

The bodysuit hid her curves but he guessed she had quite the figure under all that Tyvek.

She took the proffered cigarette and grinned at him. She held up her left hand and tapped her wedding band.

"You're a couple of years too late and I don't play around," she smiled at him.

"Am I that transparent?" Archie grinned back at her.

Sarah studied him for a minute. He was tall with sandy hair styled in an out of date mullet but it suited him. He had a thin handsome face and sensuous lips and a rangy body under the tight dark suit.

"You're the type that can get away with a casual roll in the hay and the girl won't feel too guilty about it after," Sarah met his gaze.

"What does that mean?" Archie was more than a little annoyed at the comment.

Sarah leaned into him and whispered.

"You're the guy you let fuck you a few times for fun but you never get serious with and never tall mummy about. You're not the guy you imagine walking you down the aisle," she said, her breath disarmingly sweet in his ear.

"Tell that to my wife!" Archie said indignantly.

"Yeah? How's that working out for you Archie?" Sarah studied him for a second and then looked across purposely at Sandra Tingle who was walking in circles as she spoke into the bulky brick-shaped mobile phone that the Met had just introduced into service.

"I'm SOCO Archie; I'm paid to be observant. I'll get back to you with the results from the cottage and the dormitory once we've had a chance to process the evidence. Give us a couple of days. The autopsy is tomorrow so you should have a coroner's report around the same time," Sarah pinched out the cigarette and put it in her pocket; she was used to preserving crime scenes.

Archie watched her walk away and muster her troops into the SOCO van. He smiled to himself and went over to join Sandra.

"The Chief Super is happy to leave the case in your capable hands. She wants an update this evening and of course she went on and on about keeping a lid on it. She's sending a notification team around to Charles Ward's parents' house. Once they've made a positive identification we can interview them," Sandra tossed the brick on the front seat of the car and plugged in the charger connected to the car's cigarette lighter.

The place was eerily quiet now that SOCO had left. The local constabulary had also gone, all that was left to indicate the police had been here was the crime scene tape fastened to a few gnarled trees and a 'Do Not Enter -- Crime Scene' notice pinned to the door.

He and Sandra took their time looking around the cottage. The two bedrooms appeared to be used for the sole purpose of sex. The bedside drawers contained lubricant and condoms and there was a laundry basket in the corner of each room which had once contained soiled underwear that had been bagged and taken away by SOCO. The bedsheets had also been taken away but clean sheets and pillowcases were stacked in the rickety old wardrobes.

The bathroom shelf was littered with makeup and bottles of cheap perfume, the toilet was clean and a rubber douche sat atop the cistern.

The open drink containers and disposable cups had also been taken into evidence but the lounge and kitchen still looked a mess. There were smudges of fingerprint powder everywhere and all of the cupboard doors and drawers were open.

"Sarah thinks the place was a knocking shop," Archie said when they'd finished looking around.

"It looks like a place I raided once in Clapham when I worked in the Vice Unit. A real dump but it was turning over a fortune," Sandra gave the place a final lookover.

"We also need to find out what that cocaine was doing here. Were they selling drugs as well as sex?" Sandra speculated

"They tend to go hand in hand."

"Yeah. Let's go find some digs I need a shower," Archie rubbed at the back of his neck.

"The Met has booked us into the Holiday Inn; no expense spared," Sandra started walking to the door.

Archie pulled her back inside and pressed her against the counter and kissed her.

"Not here Archie. This place is sordid. Let's go to the hotel, get washed up and have some dinner. I'll make it up to you tonight," she kissed him quickly and slipped out of his embrace.