One for the Team Ch. 08

Chapter Eight -- The First Fifteen

May 1986

Sandra dropped Archie off outside his townhouse. They both watched the curtain twitch as the car pulled up.

"Do you think she knows about us?" Sandra asked, biting a fingernail.

"I doubt it. She thinks I'm a womaniser but wouldn't waste my time on my partner, too many loose lips etcetera. Thinks I play around on her as means of getting my own back," Archie stuffed the case files in his briefcase.

"But you are a womaniser Archie, everybody knows it," Sandra replied.

"You're not very observant for a copper are you Sandra?" Archie sighed.

"What?" Sandra was perplexed.

"I haven't been with another woman since we started up. I flirt and I brag but I have only been with you my sweet," Archie leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Stop it Archie!" Sandra brushed him away.

"You won't let me say it Sandra but you know how I feel," Archie lugged his briefcase and then took his suitcase out of the boot.

It turned out that Archie's wife Pauline was working overtime; the extra money earning time and a half on Saturday would come in handy. The teenage girl from next door was babysitting their eight year old son. Archie paid her for the full day and took little Archie down the park to kick a football, then for fish and chips for lunch and after that they saw a movie.

He bought home a curry and set the table for dinner just as Pauline arrived home from work. It looked like she had been drinking already and the first thing she did was reach for a bottle and glass. They ate in silence.

"Off you go little Archie, kiss me and your dad goodnight and he'll be up to read you a story in a bit," Pauline said to their son who did as he was he was told and climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

Archie started to clear the table while Pauline leaned against the kitchen counter smoking a cigarette, sipping her fourth glass of wine for the evening.

"You'll never guess what happened to me today Archie?" Pauline began.

Archie hated her when she was like this. He knew she was going to tell him some sordid tale or belittle him in some way; it was his wife's favourite pastime.

"You know Eddie Bard?" she drained her drink and began to open another bottle of wine.

Everyone at Scotland Yard knew Inspector Edward Bard. As the Chief Constable of the City of Chelmsford he had famously or infamously let the serial rapist-killer known as the Essex Slasher escape justice. The bungled investigation had been exposed by Ruffe Ingersoll, an investigative journalist working for The Daily Sun newspaper.

After the Chelmsford balls-up Walter Middleton, the Essex Slasher, had moved with his wife to Scotland and before long he taken up where he had left off but was caught red handed by the Edinburgh police raping a red-haired, blue eyed woman, the modus operando of the Essex Slasher and was subsequently linked to the crimes in Chelmsford.

Ruffe published his exposé describing how a Special Investigation Team in Chelmsford had identified Walter Middleton as the Slasher but when CID raided Walter's house they found nothing. Ruffe revealed that Edward Bard was Walter Middleton's golfing partner and although he couldn't prove collusion he had inferred it. The mishandling of the case however led to Edward Bard being bought before a police tribunal where he was reverted to the rank of Inspector, his file was marked 'Never To Be Promoted'.

Edward was now desk-bound pushing paper, waiting for retirement and he spent most of his time chasing skirt. He was still a handsome man at the age of fifty four.

The irony was that one of the Special Investigation Team, WPC Glenda Savage, was now Chief Superintendent Glenda Savage and in charge of the Special Crimes Division in which Archie served.

"What about Eddie Bard?" Archie asked, regretting it immediately.

"He fucked me up the wrong 'un this afternoon. Locked the door, pulled down my slacks and knickers, bent me over the desk and shoved that big black cock of his right up my arse," Pauline looked at him smarmily as she poured another glass of wine.

"It hurt like a bastard Archie but it felt good too. I think I came three times while he was buggering me. I can still feel his jizz inside me and me knickers are stained with blood and shit, I'm sure of it," she smiled evilly at Archie as she saw the anger spread across his face.

"Don't get angry Archie. You're just a cuckold who can't satisfy his wife; come to think of it I'm not even sure if little Archie is yours," she sipped her wine dismissively.

Archie hated rising to the bait. He knew it gave her some sort of sick pleasure to belittle and tease him. Little Archie was the spitting image of him and Archie had no doubt that he was Archie's father but Pauline's constant mockery and taunting incensed him.

Archie flew across the kitchen and knocked the wine out of Pauline's hand and he grabbed her by the lapels of her jacket.

"What are you going to do Archie? Fuck me up the arse with that little todger of yours? I wouldn't feel it if you did," she smirked directly into his face.

Archie spun his wife around and bent her over the counter. He tugged at her slacks until he had them around her knees and then pulled down her tights and knickers. Her knickers were indeed spotted with blood and sticky with semen.

"Go on then Archie; have a go. Your little prick won't even make me jump when you put it in. Edward's was so long and thick I thought it was going to come out of my belly," Pauline laughed drunkenly.

But when Archie freed his erection and pushed it into his wife's anus she did jump. Then she pushed back against him and moaned like a slattern.

"Come on Archie, have a go. I can't feel anything, put some effort in you pathetic tosser," Pauline taunted him but she had her fingers between her legs and was rubbing her clitoris frantically.

Archie grabbed Pauline by the hair and pulled back on it like a mane as he slammed his cock in and out of her tight anus. He'd never taken her this way before, even though she'd offered. Her back passage was tight but the remains of Edward's spend and the sloppy secretions dribbling from her vagina lubricated his shaft.

"That's the boy Archie, you're not as big as Eddie but at least I can feel it. Come on Archie fuck my arse like a good boy!" she hissed as her orgasm approached.

Pauline began a high pitched whine which Archie knew signalled her climax and he grabbed her hips and drove his cock all the way inside her and ejaculated. Pauline writhed and wriggled, pushing back into him, grinding her buttocks into his groin as she came. The stench of her quim juices filled the kitchen.

Archie collapsed over her body, his cock still buried in her anus; his spend dribbling onto the kitchen linoleum.

Pauline pushed her husband off her and tugged at her underwear and pulled up her slacks while Archie put himself away.

"You're pathetic Archie. The only way I can get a good shagging out of you is to provoke you," she wheezed as she buttoned the top of her slacks.

"That's it Pauline. I can't go on like this. I'm moving out," Archie said with finality.

He always felt remorseful after they'd had sex like this but this time he felt disgusted and ashamed of himself.

"I mean it Pauline. I'll explain it as best I can to little Archie but I'm moving out this weekend," Archie said.

"Well fuck off then. Good riddance to bad rubbish I say," Pauline took another wine glass down from the cupboard to replace the one Archie had broken.

When she reached up Archie could see a small wet stain flowering in the crotch of her slacks; it was pink, a mixture of blood, semen and her own secretions.

*****

Sandra felt guilty when Malcom started doting and spoiling her as soon she got home. She changed into a house dress and helped him in the garden and they had a quiet dinner. She told him as much as she could about the case because Malcom was genuinely interested in her work.

His work as a schoolteacher was dull and boring and he enjoyed hearing about her escapades solving crimes with Archie. He didn't have a jealous bone in his body and if he suspected that she and Archie were having an affair he had never said anything. All that did was to make her feel guiltier.

She was unsure how he would be when they went to bed that evening after missing out on his weekly sex session the previous night. She wore a negligée and full-cut satin knickers, if he wanted to make love he could get to her body easily and if he didn't all the better and she could sleep comfortably.

They lay side by side in the dark neither of them saying anything. Malcom's hand drifted across her body and rested in her crotch. Malcom's idea of foreplay was to stroke her through panties until she was wet and then mount her and try to get inside before he ejaculated. Premature ejaculation had plagued their sex life and their marriage. Malcom refused to talk about it and because he was so inexperienced and embarrassed about his condition he also refused to try any form of experimentation or variety in their lovemaking.

Malcom rubbed her sex and eventually his fingers opened the folds of her labia and found her clitoris. It was more by good luck than good management, he had no idea how her vagina functioned and was unwilling to learn. Sandra murmured a little and opened her legs for him, signalling that she was ready.

Malcom climbed between her legs and prodded at her sex while she held the gusset of her knickers aside for him. He jabbed at her, his cock rubbing on her satin panties unable to find her sex.

"Oh no!" he moaned his disappointment as he climaxed without even getting inside his wife.

Sandra felt his hot seed splash on her vulva and soak into her knickers. She wrapped her arms around her husband to comfort him.

"It's ok darling; its ok," she whispered.

Malcom climbed off his wife and lay on his back and pulled up his underpants.

"I want a divorce," Malcom said into the dark.

Sandra rolled over and switched on the bedlamp.

"What was that honey?" she didn't believe her ears.

"I want a divorce. It's not you it's me. I can't satisfy my wife, I can't satisfy myself; there's no point going on," he said.

Malcom stared up at the ceiling, unable to look at Sandra.

"I told you Malcom; it's ok. There's other ways we can satisfy each other, we can try a different counselor or see a sex surrogate," Sandra cuddled up to her husband but he pushed her away.

"I've been seeing someone Sandra. You work all the time and you're never here. Mrs Bellamy invited me in for coffee one day and we got talking," Malcom still stared at the ceiling.

"You've been seeing the cat woman? Mrs Bellamy?" Sandra was incredulous and bemused; she tried not to laugh.

Everyone referred to Alice Bellamy as the cat woman because she kept four cats, and although she used the title Mrs, she was in fact a spinster. She lived across the road and spent her time gardening, gossiping and watching daytime soaps.

"We became friends, close friends and eventually I trusted her enough to tell her about my problems and she offered to help me," Malcom murmured.

"The cat woman helped you with your premature ejaculation problem?" Sandra was sceptical.

"She told me that I should be honest with you and I am so let me finish. Alice took me downstairs to her basement and left me alone while she went away. She told me strip naked and I did. She returned wearing a leather catsuit which is funny right? Don't answer that it's rhetorical."

"She touched me down there and I came as soon as she did. She told me it was ok but that I needed to be punished. She put me over her knees and spanked me, then she touched me down there again when I was ready but I came again and she spanked me again. This went on for a while until I didn't come when she touched me."

"This took place over a few weeks and then she got me to, to you know, to put it inside her; to fuck her in the vulgar vernacular. Needless to say I ejaculated as soon as I entered her and then she put me over her knees and spanked me again. We experimented and after a while the spanking helped. If she spanked me before we fucked I could go for a while. Then I could go for a while and then go again."

"I'm not stupid Sandra; I know you're having an affair and I don't blame you. I guess it's with Archie but I really don't care. So Alice Bellamy and I have been having an affair for nearly a year now and I like what I have with her. We have no children; we can sell the house and split the profits. You can move on and so can I," Malcom finally turned to face her.

Sandra was astounded but she had to admit she was relieved.

"I do love you Sandra but what we have isn't working. We live totally different lives and I can't satisfy you. I've just proved that again. We would be happier apart," Malcom said what Sandra had been thinking for some time.

"But if you can perform with Alice Bellamy you can perform with me," Sandra leaned on one elbow.

"What are you going to do; buy a catsuit and a paddle? It won't work Sandra; you're not Alice. Can you turn out the light please, we can sleep and we'll talk about it tomorrow," Malcom turned away from her and was snoring within minutes.

Sandra lay in the dark unable to sleep. She hated herself for feeling relieved that it was finally over.

Archie and Sandra met in Chief Superintendent Glenda Savage's office on Monday morning and updated their boss on the case.

Glenda had always fought with her weight and way back when she was a WPC she had accepted that she was never going to have the figure of a model so she made the best of what she had. She was somewhere in her forties, but like a lot of big women her face looked younger. She had perfect skin, blue eyes and cupid bow lips, her face framed by a halo of black curls and she was pretty, almost 'little-girl pretty' but anyone who took her for a little girl was in for a big surprise; she could be ruthless when necessary.

Today she had a budget meeting with the Deputy Chief Constable so she was wearing uniform: black skirt, white shirt, black and white checked cravat, black tunic with her rank badges on the epaulettes, black stockings and shoes. Glenda made a point of wearing fully-fashioned stockings and her skirts had always been shorter than was regulation and her heels higher. Rather than feeling sexualised like so many women employed in a job dominated by males, she used her overt sexuality to disarm her male counterparts and catch them out unaware.

Glenda was in a rush and sat on the corner of her desk flicking through the case summary while Archie and Sandra sat waiting. Her skirt had ridden up and Archie could just see a hint of stocking-top as she lazily swung one shapely leg back and forth which mesmerised him.

"Good work you two; I take it you fancy this Robert Fellows as the culprit?" she looked up from the file.

"He's our best suspect yes. We've some more interviews to conduct, fingerprints to match and we're waiting on some forensics but I intend to conduct a formal interview under caution with Mister Fellows very soon," Archie replied.

"Keep me informed please, especially when you're dealing with the toffs. They think that because their fathers have money and know people in the right places they deserve special treatment," Glenda put down the file and brushed a piece of lint off her skirt.

"We've encountered that already," Sandra piped in.

"Well fuck 'em; don't give them any. A word please Archie?" Glenda dismissed Sandra.

When Sandra closed the door Glenda got off the desk and handed Archie back his file.

"Ruffe's onto the case. He knows something's up and he'll be like a dog with a bone," she busied herself sorting papers on her desk.

"What does he know ma'am?" Archie asked.

"He knows fuck all but he knows there is more to the case than just a suspicious death. For a start he knows my Special Crimes Division has been called in and he knows that an exclusive male-only university has effectively gone into lockdown," Glenda turned to face him.

"You know Ruffe and I are in a relationship?" Glenda looked down at her shoes.

"You make no secret of it ma'am. No conflict of interest as far I can see," Archie didn't know if that was the response she was looking for.

"What do I tell him?" Archie continued when Glenda remained silent.

"That's easy Archie... you tell him fuck all."

"How are things with Pauline?" Glenda turned her back on him and began to pack her bag ready for her meeting.

"Shit. I moved out yesterday," Archie said coolly.

"Well that makes it easier for me to say what I have to say I suppose. Pauline has garnered a reputation for herself around the Yard and it's rumoured that she's sniffing around Edward Bard," Glenda turned to face Archie.

"If I can be blunt ma'am he's giving it to her whenever he feels like it. He's welcome to her; I'm done with her," Archie sighed.

"You have a boy don't you... little Archie?" Glenda smiled as she recalled seeing Archie's son running around the Division office one day when Archie had bought him to work.

"Well don't let your work get in the way of bringing him up Archie. I never had kids but I know these years are precious. Edward Bard is a prat who is about to fall on his arse; he'll be lucky to escape with his pension intact if that's any consolation. You never heard that from me and keep it schtum."

Archie stood up ready to leave. Glenda put on her regulation bowler hat and reached out a hand to stroke his cheek.

"You'll be ok Archie, you deserve better. Find someone nice who deserves you; if I was twenty years younger I'd be tempted myself," she dropped her hand and was all business.

She strode to the door leaving a trail of perfume and Archie followed in her wake.

Sandra was fighting through the London traffic when she finally spoke to Archie.

"What was that all about with the Chief Super?" she asked.

"Glenda was just telling me what I already knew. My wife is a slut. It doesn't matter anyway, I moved out yesterday," Archie said wistfully.

Sandra burst out laughing.

"Jesus Sandra I tell you my marriage is on the rocks and you laugh at me!" Archie said sharply.

"No... it's just the timing... Malcom is divorcing me... he's shagging the cat lady across the road," Sandra laughed almost hysterically.

"Jesus! What a couple of losers we are," Archie chuckled.

He reached out and placed his hand over Sandra's.

"Malcom is an idiot; he doesn't know what he's throwing away," He squeezed her hand with his and then withdrew it.

Mrs Frobisher met Archie and Sandra like they were her long lost friends and led them into the anteroom.

"Your colleagues were busy here on Friday. Left rather a mess with that powder they use," she sniffed, wiping an imaginary speck of dust off the table.

She was wearing one of her tight suits and heels so high that Sandra wondered how she walked in them, the kick pleat in the side of her skirt that displayed acres of sheer nylon-sheathed thigh obviously helped. It certainly got Archie's attention as did her low-cut blouse. Mrs Frobisher hovered around Archie, openly flirting with him as she got them settled.

"Mister Wayne Jenkins is waiting outside for you," Mrs Frobisher said.

"Shall I send him in?" she made her way to the door and leaned against it seductively.

"Give us ten minutes please Mrs Frobisher; any chance of tea?" Archie gave her a winning smile.

"Of course Archie; I'll bring in a tea service before I bring in Mister Jenkins," she closed the door.

"You're incorrigible Archie. She might as well throw her knickers at you," Sandra smirked.

Archie pulled Sandra into him and slipped his hand under her skirt and up her thighs while she struggled against him.

"The only knickers I'm interested in are under this skirt," he whispered in her ear.