The Flaming Girls Ch. 06

"And all because a transvestite prostitute happened to look up while she was sucking someone off in the bogs and saw some bloke who she thought she recognised who had fucked her up the arse and knifed her when he found out she had a cock," Edward turned to walk away and Robin grabbed him by his coat and turned him around, his fingers clenched into fist.

Ruffe leapt between Edward and Robin and took Robin's hand off Edward's shoulder.

"Smartest thing you've done tonight Ruffe, maybe Glenda fucked some sense into you," Edward straightened his jacket and turned to walk away again.

"It was him! I saw him! It was him!" Charlie cried out.

"Take her home Robin; she's already made a fool out of both of you."

"Feel free to suck a few cocks in the parking lot on your way out Miss Ringwald, we have an amnesty on prostitution during the ball," Edward sneered and walked away.

Both Ruffe and Glenda had to physically restrain Robin to prevent him from going after the Chief Constable.

******

"Did you enjoy the ball dear?" Walter Middleton patted his wife's knee but kept his eyes on the road as he drove home at a sedate speed.

Once he was clear of Chelmsford and heard no 'blues-and-twos' he figured there was no need to panic.

"It was lovely dear," Alice stifled a yawn; she was glad Walter didn't want to stay any longer.

When they got home Alice went straight up to bed and Walter told her he would be up soon. When he heard her footsteps overhead in the master bedroom Walter unlocked the workshop door, entered and locked it behind him.

He took off his dinner jacket and put it on a hanger. He unlocked and opened the large tool box that had never held a tool and gazed at the resealable plastic bags, each of which contained a pair of panties and a single piece of jewellery from his victims. His fingers caressed the bags lovingly and then he opened the drawer beneath the trophies and ran his fingers across the neat blocks of currency, each secured with an elastic band.

Walter had accumulated close to fifty thousand pounds in cash over the years; some of it legitimately but most of it carefully embezzled from Barclays Bank.

In a rented lockup just outside of London was a nondescript but mechanically perfect Morris 1100 with a suitcase in the boot containing everything he would need to make an escape, including forged identity documents that would pass any form of scrutiny.

He had hoped that he would never to have to use his escape plan but he had been a Boy Scout and adhered to their motto of 'Be Prepared'. But it was not time to panic yet. He still didn't know what the police knew and what they intended to do with what they knew. He was well versed in police procedures and the first thing if anything he expected would be a knock on the door.

Walter knew that they had nothing linking him to the Essex Slasher crimes other than the word of a transvestite prostitute who had used her celebrity to her advantage and to further her financial gain. She was hardly a credible witness against someone of his standing in the community. But to be safe he would take some necessary precautions.

As the Manger of Barclays Bank he could well expect to be invited to the Annual Police Ball but it helped that he was very good friends with the Chief Constable and played golf with him on Sundays. It gave Walter the ideal segue into asking how the hunt for the Slasher was going and Edward was known to speak freely after a few gin and tonics.

Whilst at the ball he had taken a great deal of delight in hobnobbing with the very people that were searching for him. He had no doubts that should his name come up in any investigation his good friend would warn him out. After all, who would believe a respected Bank manager could be the Essex Slasher. No need to panic indeed; just keep calm and carry on, as was the fine British tradition

*****

Back at Glenda's flat Robin, Glenda, Ruffe and Charlie drank tea and pondered the night's events.

"We have no time at all to find out who was driving that Bentley," Robin was ropeable.

"Ok, we all need to calm down. We all know what's at stake but it's nearly one in the morning so there is bugger-all we can do. First thing tomorrow I'll access the motor registry records and find out who owns the Bentley and then we put him under immediate surveillance. Neither the Chief Constable or CID are going to be interested in anything we say unless we can get concrete evidence that the person is in fact the Slasher," Glenda said.

"How are you going to do that?" Ruffe asked.

"We're going to break the law is how," Robin said through gritted teeth.

"First things first. The Slasher knows that Charlie saw him at the ball so he's likely to change his mind about finishing the job he started."

"You're staying with me tonight Charlie and then you're going around to Samantha's and staying with her. She won't let you out of her sight until this thing is over one way or the other. If you're not with me; you're with Sam," Robin said.

Charlie was about to get her back up but she realised what Robin said made sense.

"I'll take you to work tomorrow at the salon while Glenda searches for our man at the MOT office, Ruffe you get all your camera and surveillance gear and meet Glenda and I here. Once we know who owns the Bentley and where they live we'll finalise our plans. Agreed?" Robin said.

They all nodded.

Charlie fell into Robin's arms as soon as they were inside his flat. She kissed him and clung to him.

"I was so scared Robin. I thought I was brave but I was terrified," Charlie sobbed into his neck.

Robin held her close and comforted her.

"You're braver than anyone I've ever met Charlie Ringwald and I love you," Robin nuzzled Charlie's neck.

"Make love to me Robin. Make me feel safe," Charlie whispered.

Robin put an arm under Charlie's legs and carried her to the bed. He gazed at her lying there in the red satin gown, the side split was open showing off her long legs clad in gossamer hose. He stripped naked as he watched her, his erection proudly poking out in front like the prow of a ship.

"Do you want to take off that dress; it's expensive?" Robin smiled down at her.

"Do you want me to take off the dress? You paid for it," Charlie smiled up at him cheekily.

"I want to fuck you in that red satin dress. I've wanted to fuck you all night," Robin said throatily.

"Then do it," Charlie got up on her hands and knees and offered Robin her behind.

Robin took the K-Y out of the dresser drawer and opened the slit in Charlie's skirt exposing her luscious panty-clad buttocks.

"Do it! Do it hard!" Charlie groaned.

Robin ripped off Charlie's knickers and then tore out the crotch of her sheer tights. Her sphincter was a crinkled freckle and he daubed it with the lubricant and the put some on his cock. Charlie was hard already and he reached under her and stroked her cock.

"Fuck me darling. Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" Charlie wriggled her buttocks invitingly.

Robin climbed on the bed and pulled Charlie's ankles apart and got in position behind her. He pressed his cock against her sphincter and pushed his cock all the way inside her. Her tight anus was like a silken sheath gripping his phallus.

"Oh god yes! Fuck me!" Charlie writhed; impaled on Robin's huge cock.

Robin gripped Charlie's hips and began to vigorously fuck Charlie, making her squeal and moan as he thrust his magnificent manhood in and out of her tight anus, pressing his glans on her prostrate and slipping a hand under her so he could stroke her cock.

"Oh yesss!" Charlie screamed and ejaculated, her semen spattering on the duvet.

"Oh Charlie I love you!" Robin pulled Charlie's buttocks into his groin and drove his cock all the way inside her and spent his load.

They both writhed and moaned as they simultaneously orgasmed.

Later, under the covers, Robin naked and Charlie wearing only her torn pantyhose, they cuddled. They had made love again not long after Charlie had bent over for Robin, but this time it had been tender and loving and now they lay spooning, Charlie's derrière pressed into Robin's groin.

"I don't know why I feel so scared and so insecure. You'll never leave me will you Robin?" Charlie whispered.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm like a stone in your shoe; easily cast aside and forgotten about," Charlie began to sob quietly.

Robin rolled her over to face him.

"I will never leave you Charlie Ringwald. I love and I will always love you. I'd do anything for you, anything to be with you whatever the consequences. My life's work is to make you happy," Robin pulled her close and kissed her.

"I love you too Robin," Charlie whispered.

*****

Glenda had a friend who worked at the MOT and she cashed in a few favours and got the girl to open the office on Saturday morning and let Glenda search the records.

Glenda was shocked when she found out the Bentley was registered to Walter Middleton, Manager of the Chelmsford branch of Barclays Bank. What was even more incredulous was that she knew that Edward Bard played golf with Walter Middleton almost every Sunday because afterwards Edward would meet with Glenda at a motel near the golf course, telling Alice that he would be home late because he was at the 'nineteenth hole' while he was actually filling Glenda's hole.

Glenda went back to her apartment to find Robin and Ruffe waiting anxiously.

When Glenda told her what she knew they were both as flabbergasted as she was. Ruffe went off to scour the newspapers to find a decent picture of Walter Middleton that they could show to Charlie whilst Robin and Glenda pulled out a road map.

Walter Middleton's address was a small estate near Fryerning, eight miles southwest of Chelmsford which fit the profile of the person they looking for: middleclass, owns a car, lives and works in or near Chelmsford. It would also explain why the Slasher was so good at what he did. Someone with the meticulous brain of a bank manager would be the perfect type of person to plan and execute the crimes without leaving any clues to his identity.

Ruffe returned with a good quality recent picture of Walter Middleton taken at a charity event and he and Glenda drove to London to show it to Charlie who nearly collapsed when they showed it to her at the salon. Swearing her to secrecy they drove back to Chelmsford with Charlie and made their plans.

Sunday morning with Charlie safe and sound at Samantha's flat Robin, Glenda and Ruffe set off for Fryerning with all of the requisites they needed to conduct surveillance and conduct a burglary. They had also purloined three of the latest handheld radios, which although limited in range, would be perfect for their task. They tuned the radios to a discrete channel so as not to be intercepted.

Robin took up position in a hedgerow near the Middleton estate where he had a good view of the house. He hid the bag containing his burglary tools under some shrubs and used his binoculars to watch the house. He was wearing clothing typical of the type worn by bird watchers and even had a copy of British Birds in his coat pocket in case he was seen or questioned. This ruse also explained the binoculars around his neck.

After dropping Robin off, Glenda and Ruffe parked in a layby near the driveway entrance where they could see the house and the attached garage. Glenda knew that Edward teed off around seven in the morning to beat the rush at the golf course and also so he could finish the round with enough time to spend most of the afternoon and early evening with her at the motel.

Ruffe's research revealed that Alice Middleton was a socialite and usually attended some social event or another on Sundays so they crossed their fingers and waited.

Walter left first at six thirty, his Bentley passed Glenda's car and she and Ruffe were in a lusty embrace as he drove past so that he couldn't see their faces. They hoped correctly that Walter would take no notice as the laybys in the area were often used for lover's trysts.

They had a long cold wait until Alice's Cortina finally emerged from the garage around ten in the morning. Robin watched her through the glasses and it looked like she was dressed to the nines for some social soiree. He just hoped it would take up most of the day.

After Alice drove past them, Glenda radioed Robin to let him know. Then she dropped Ruffe up the road about a mile; which was about all the range that the radios had. He too was dressed for bird watching but his job was to lookout for either Walter or Alice's car returning from the city end of the road whilst Glenda drove a mile the other way and kept lookout there. When they were both in position, Glenda radioed Robin the all clear and he strode purposely towards the country house like he had every right to be there, determinedly pulling on his latex gloves.

His years on the job had made him very familiar with burglary tools and he was inside the house in a trice.

Robin lowered his tool bag to floor gently and called out.

"Hello? Hello Mister Middleton? Hello Mrs Middleton? Anybody home?"

Robin was sure that neither Walter nor Alice had returned and he hadn't seen anyone else in the house while he watched from the hedgerow but who was to say there wasn't a relative or friend staying over or even worse a large pet dog. They really hadn't had time to plan this perfectly. Robin's piss poor excuse for being in the house if there was someone there was that he was here to change the locks due to recent break-ins in the area.

The house remained eerily silent and Robin wasted no time. He proceeded upstairs and located the access panel to the attic and the rod used to push the panel aside and snag the catch of the pull-down ladder. He gingerly climbed the ladder and using his torch he found a switch which turned on a bare bulb which dimly lit the attic, exposing old furniture, some rusting shelving on which were stored mouldy cardboard boxes, and two large trunks in the corner. The place was dusty and full of cobwebs; if the Slasher was hiding his prizes up here he was doing a great job.

A half hours' worth of dirty work produced nothing. Robin was a little disappointed, crooks often kept booty and contraband in the attic but not the Slasher.

Robin worked his way methodically though the second floor rooms, checking for hiding places, false bottoms, false walls, loose skirting, anything that would indicate a hiding place but found nothing. Alice Middleton did have an extensive and exotic collection of sexy lingerie, underwear and hosiery which he found surprising and a little arousing he had to say. There was something intimate about clamouring through a married woman's unmentionables. But there was no time to waste.

Robin checked in on the radio; nothing to report from either Glenda or Ruffe.

The next obvious place was the garage and Robin soon located the door to the workshop and he picked the lock. It was not unusual for a man to lock his workshop to keep out the kids or even the wife but the Middleton's had no kids and the lock was expensive and heavy duty. Suspicious perhaps?

"Oh fuck yeah!" Robin exclaimed as soon as entered the workshop.

It screamed subterfuge and secrecy. He doubted that a single tool had ever been lifted in the pristine, meticulously-swept concrete floored room.

Robin opened a large metal locker in the corner and found a collection of coveralls and boots, brand new still in their wrappers and boxes and also six duffle coats hanging from hangers. From his tool bag Robin took the Polaroid Land Camera that Ruffe had given him and took a series of photographs. He carefully closed and locked the locker. The big red toolbox on the bench beckoned and Robin went to it and picked the lock.

He opened the first drawer of the toolbox and stared at it; mesmerised.

He gazed at the eight resealable plastic bags, each of which contained a pair of panties and a single piece of jewellery. He could hardly believe it. He took another series of photos and then it dawned on him. Eight bags of underwear... eight! There were only seven known Slasher victims. There had been another!

When he opened the drawer below it he was astounded. The bundles of cash all of various denominations were almost hypnotising. He guessed that Walter being a Bank Manager had arranged the bundles in equal denomination and counting the first bundle he estimated there was around fifty thousand pounds, give or take a thousand.

He lifted the camera to his eye and was about to take the picture and then hesitated. There were more important things to do and time was running out.

Robin closed and locked the toolbox and took a screwdriver from his tool bag and began to tap on the skirting board. He soon found the hidey hole and the knife. He gingerly removed it photographed it and put it back. He took a series of interior shots and checked that everything was as he found it. He left the workshop and replaced the lock.

He checked in again with Ruffe and Glenda who had nothing to report. He'd been in the house for nearly two hours and was anxious to leave.

Robin walked over to the fence and climbed back into the hedgerow and ran across the field to the road, talking on the radio as he ran. Glenda picked him up and then they drove off to pick up Ruffe.

"Well don't be a cunt; tell us what you found," Ruffe said anxiously.

Robin said nothing but took the stack of Polaroid pictures from inside his coat pocket and passed them to Ruffe who worked his way through them taking his time to examine each one.

"Now you're both being cunts! Tell me what you found!" Glenda slapped the steering wheel.

*****

They went back to Glenda's flat after picking up Charlie from Samantha's flat and worked on a strategy. As damning as the photographs were they were virtually useless as evidence. They had been obtained illegally. They needed a legitimate reason for CID to request and to a search warrant and they needed to find someone in CID willing to do so.

It was decided that Ruffe would hit the microfiche at The Daily Sun to see what else he could find out about Walter Middleton, Robin would take the photograph they had of Walter to the Trunk and Brick pub to see if any of the customers recognised him and Glenda would start returning the files they had borrowed so it looked like they were wrapping up the SCI as they had been ordered to do.

They needed time and they prayed that Walter didn't panic and make a run for it. He had the nous and the resources to go into hiding, possibly overseas, if he suspected the police were onto him.

Walter on the other hand had played golf with Edward Bard who told him, in confidence of course, that the transvestite prostitute who was making a splash in the print media claimed to have seen the Slasher at the Police Ball but that no one believed her and that it was just another ploy by her to get more attention. He was disbanding the Special Crime Investigation team and likely sacking the two officers involved.

Walter was quietly confident and decided he had made the right decision to keep calm and carry on.

Ruffe spent the day analysing microfiche at the Sun, fending off demands from his editor to post another story and assuring the editor that if he was patient Ruffe would deliver him the greatest scoop The Daily Sun had ever printed.

Robin waited patiently at the Trunk and Brick and when the lunchtime crowd came in he showed the picture of Walter Middleton around but no one recognised him. The evening crowd arrived and he showed the picture to the bar staff and the customers but once again drew a blank. He was about to leave when he was approached by a middle-aged man wearing a duster and flatcap.

"I hear you're showing pictures around looking for someone who might have something to do with Sadie's murder?" he asked.