Watching the Detectives

'If I didn't,' I said, 'I would be out of business very quickly indeed.' She nodded and we set about the details about her husband. She talked me through his habits, his work and who his friends were. I asked if she knew his email password, she did and told me, but it's so easy to get alternate accounts these days, it might not help. She also gave me his phone number and I asked if he had a second phone, but she didn't know. She also provided his car registration number. I told her to create a new email address which we could use confidentially. A new phone would be useful as well and imperative that her husband not know about them. She said she would arrange it and let me know the details.

'How quickly could you get started, Miss Taplow?'

'Well, if you can let me know where he will be this evening I can get started straightaway. That is, if you can pay something upfront as an indicator of good faith?'

'Of course, will £2,000, be adequate?.' Wow, this was too easy, I thought. I nodded and she wrote out a cheque and handed it across. Glancing at the cheque I could see it was written from an account with an exclusive City bank.

'I am away from home on business a lot and I'm on a trip for the next few days. This is our townhouse address and I believe my husband will be staying there while I'm away.'

Mmm, I thought, townhouse? Implies there's a country house as well.

'OK, Mrs Northcliffe, just some paperwork to be done and we're good. I will send you an update every day to the email address when you let me know what it is. It will be encrypted and I will send you details separately about how to decrypt it. Is that OK?'

'Perfectly, thank you, now if there's nothing else, I need to be going.'

'No, it's all fine. I will be in touch, when you send me details of the email address.'

With that she stood and with the look of somebody reminding themselves to send their clothes to the cleaners immediately, she walked out of the door. I sat still for a few moments, still trying to work my way through what had happened. I shrugged, sent a text message setting up a meeting later this evening, turned on my computer and opened up Google.

2 Emily

In my local pub there's always a guy, probably the same guy, playing the slot machine with the concentration I imagine he would use on the control panel of a nuclear submarine. He never seems to win. Mug's game I think.

I was sitting with an end of day gin and tonic, thinking about Mrs Blah Blah, when someone nibbled my ear from behind.

'Emily. Please don't do that.' I said.

'How did you know it was me?'

'Emily, think about it, who else but you would do that to me in a straight pub?'

She came round and plonked herself down on the chair opposite me. Emily is my best friend; occasional lover and sometime assistant. She is also a beautiful woman who happens to be lesbian. Actually, her sexuality is a little more complicated than that. Em and I got together for the first time at a party when we both got blind drunk and ended up in bed. We sucked and fucked each other's brains out that first night and then found out we actually liked each other afterwards. It doesn't always happen that way. Emily doesn't go anywhere near men but I guess I don't count. She thinks of me as girl with a strapon attached, without any of the male bullshit which normally comes attached to a penis. She calls me her Private Dick, which she thinks is hilarious and I think is a joke well past its sell by date. These days if either of us gets an itch that someone of the other - nominal in my case - sex can scratch, then we get together.

Em is a couple of inches shy of 6ft tall, curvaceous, with natural red hair tumbling down unkempt over her shoulders and with the face of a Renaissance Angel. Her looks belie her strength and she is a 3rd Dan black belt in Karate; she could convince you the Amazons were not a myth.

'Yuk, straight pubs, what a waste of flesh.' She looked around, saw a woman sitting by herself in the corner, smiled at her and said, 'But sometimes there are opportunities.'

I said, 'It's the landlord's wife.'

She looked puzzled and said, 'So what?'

I shrugged, 'I don't want to get banned from another pub.'

'Last time wasn't all my fault, that girl definitely fancied me.'

'Yes,' I said, 'Until her boyfriend came back from the toilet and started to push you around.'

'I only hit him once,' Emily said, 'and I pulled the punch.'

The guy had ended up sprawled across a table holding his bloody nose and screaming. Even then Emily got the girl's phone number before we were thrown out and banned.

I sent Em off to get us some drinks and I saw her say something to the woman in the corner, who smiled back at her. She eventually returned with two pints and sat down so she could still eyeball the woman, 'So, what's the problem with Miss Snooty, then?'

I had called Em and given her the outline of what had happened this morning.

'There's just something off about it. She's loaded, that's clear, so what's she doing down in Tooting talking to me rather than one of the big boys up west? The name she gave me, I checked. She comes from a wealthy family, made their money in property deals. The word seems to be that she had a drug problem, met a bad boy and eloped, nearly got cut off from the family money but managed to repair things. At least the cheque was genuine, the bank confirmed that.'

'Anything on the cheating husband?'

'We don't know he's cheating yet.'

'He is,' said Em, looking across at the woman, 'all men cheat, they're hardwired to. The little shits can't help it, it's just a case of when they get found out.'

'Yeah, he checks out, seems to be a bit of a chancer. No criminal record but sounds a bit dodgy. Describes himself as an entrepreneur.'

Em grunted and raised her glass to the woman in the corner, 'Maybe she likes getting down and dirty in Tooting. Phil, It's just a surveillance job, right?'

I nodded. Emily was one of only two people in the world I would allow to call me Phil.

'And no special requests, no beating anyone up or planting evidence?'

'Emily, you know I don't do anything like that,' I tried to look offended.

'More's the pity, you would earn a lot more money that way. So, what's your problem, Phil? Do the job, get paid and everyone's happy.'

'Yes, I guess you're right.'

'Damn right, sister.'

I nodded and said I had to go, see if I could track down this husband where Miss Snooty had told me he would be tonight. I asked if she could help out on this job with some surveillance. She agreed and I said I would sort out a schedule by the morning.

'Good luck,' Em said, 'and be careful.'

'Good luck to you too,' I said as Em got up looking towards the woman in the corner.

'Oh, I don't need luck.'

She didn't either, because the woman gave her a broad smile as Emily sat down next her.

Mrs Snooty's 'town' address was on a road just at the wealthier end of the King's Road in Chelsea. I managed to sneak into a spot with my car so I could keep an eye on both the house and the black Jaguar with the number plate Eleanor Northcliffe had given me.

I knew this could be a long, possibly fruitless wait. Three hours after I started watching, the front door opened and the husband emerged. I snapped a few shots, more than anything to prove I had been there. I guessed he wasn't going to go far tonight because he was dragging a big black labrador dog on a lead. I slipped out of the car and followed him and the dog as they took a slow walk down the King's Road to Sloane Square and back. It's always difficult following someone walking slowly, It's best to do it from the other side of the street so you aren't so noticeable.

He made it back to the house in about half an hour and I was pretty sure he hadn't met anyone or even used his phone while he was outside. I was grateful for the walk though and then settled down again to watch. At about 11 o'clock, the lights all went out and I gave it ten minutes before deciding to call it a night. Emily and I split the day shift between us, but I would take the evening shift as that's when I thought anything would probably happen. Luckily, there was a coffee shop on the corner of the road where we could sit with a good view of the house during the day. Over the next three days Gareth Evans only emerged from the house twice a day to walk the dog, with delivery drivers and the postman the only callers to the house. I ached for something to happen.

I reported this daily to Eleanor, complete with pictures, just to prove we were actually there. On the fourth evening he took the dog out for it's evening walk at about 7.30, a little earlier than his usual routine. I perked up, changes in routine normally meant something was going to happen. About an hour later, at 9 o'clock, he emerged and headed for his car. I sat up and as he pulled out into the traffic I followed behind in my little VW. It's great for this work because nobody notices such an anonymous car. I followed him down the King's Road, then out of Chelsea, over the river at Putney and along the river towards Barnes. I nearly missed him as he made a sharp left turn into a road of Edwardian villas.

Stopping about halfway down the road, he parked, left the car to walk up to one of the villas and rang the doorbell. I managed to park and double back to check the address and by the time I got there he was inside. Opposite the villa was a house in the process of renovation completely surrounded with scaffolding and plastic sheeting. I managed to squeeze through a gap in the fence and clambered up a ladder attached to the scaffolding onto the first floor level. I found a spot where I could see the house opposite and where I would also be concealed by the plastic sheeting. Thanking my stars for putting on jeans, boots and my warm coat, I settled down to watch. A light flicked on in a ground floor room opposite and a woman came to the window, looked out and pulled the curtains. It was too quick for me to get a shot, but I clearly saw Gareth Evans behind her in the room.

Nothing happened for the next hour and I began to curse Alan and then my father for getting me into this game. A light flicked on in the room next to the one with the closed curtains and this time I was more prepared, put the telephoto lens up to maximum magnification and steadied it against the scaffold pole. The telephoto lens would make the pictures grainy but would add to their realism when I had to show them.

The room was clearly a bedroom and It wasn't long before two women came into view. Please don't close the curtains, I pleaded to myself, please don't close them. One of the women went to pull them closed but as she did so, the other woman put her arms around her from behind and she turned round to kiss her. Shit, I thought, this isn't what I came to see. I ran off some shots, thinking Em would laugh at this. It was when the second woman turned her head towards me, it clicked that she seemed familiar.

Fuck, I thought, that's Gareth Evans.

I rammed the camera back to my eye and flicked it to rapid. I was now sure the second woman was Gareth Evans in drag and a wig. He looked pretty good I thought and that's from an expert at dressing up in women's clothes. I whistled to myself, so that's the way he rolls. They were both kissing passionately now, their arms wrapped around each other. There was enough of a gap left in the curtains for me to still get a good view of the room and I kept the camera going on rapid.

Thankfully, I had loaded a fresh memory card this morning. I stopped to check the camera was working, and when I looked back into the room through the camera, Evans was on his knees in front of the other woman and pushing his hands up her legs and underneath her skirt. The woman put her hands behind her and unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it.

Evans moved his hands up to her hips and I saw her look down and nod to him. He was smiling as he hooked his thumbs into her knickers and drew them slowly over her hips and down her legs and I nearly dropped the camera when I saw an erect cock jutting from her groin. Shit, I didn't see that coming. This could get very interesting. My first idiotic thought was that it was a strapon, but it was clear from the way it moved it was real and large. Evans looked up at her as he slid his tongue over the tip and then his lips parted to take the head into his mouth.

Bingo, that's the money shot.

She put her hands around the back of his head this time and pulled Evans deeper onto her cock. He took it into his mouth and started to lick up and down the shaft. I thought, this guy's no novice, he's done this before. He had both hands around the cock now and took the tip of it into his mouth, licking and sucking hard. She began to move her hips back and forth, forcing Evans to take more of it into his mouth and I could see he was gagging and finding it difficult to keep it in. He pulled back in order to draw breath and then, wisely I thought, concentrated on the head, using his tongue without trying to take it all into his mouth. His hands were wrapped around the shaft stroking it up and down whilst he sucked and licked the cock head in and out of his mouth. She threw her head back and I thought she was close to cumming. I have seen and photographed some extremely odd things in my job, but this was without doubt the most erotic scene I had ever photographed. Even watching through the camera lens this was making me hard and I let out a little moan as he deep throated her. I had to adjust myself at this point as my cock was painfully restrained. I switched to movie mode; I had to have this on film.

The woman looked down at him and said something which made him stop and smile. She pulled Evans to his feet and pushed him across the room towards the bed where he fell onto his back. I couldn't see everything from this angle but moving to the right a little I could focus right onto the bed.

Evans climbed onto the bed and got onto his hands and knees in front of her as she edged up behind him. She lifted the skirt he was wearing and pulled down his knickers so his backside was now naked in front of her. She bent forward and she tongued his hole and he arched his back as he felt her tongue enter him. Somehow, I thought of Evans as him and the mystery T-Girl as she. She did this for a few minutes and then she reached over to pick up what looked like a bottle of lube. He looked back over his shoulder and watched as she lubed herself and smeared some onto his hole. He shivered as he felt it and then she slipped a finger inside him and he squirmed a little before pushing backwards onto her finger. She started to move her hand around and I could see he was begging her for more. She teased him a little more, withdrawing her finger and then pushing back in with two. He bucked as she drove her fingers deep inside him.

I was getting so turned on by this I steadied the camera against the scaffolding and reached down to rub my now aching cock. She slapped him on the buttock and he reared as he felt the sting of her hand. I had managed somehow to unzip my jeans and eased my hand inside to rub my cock. I watched as she withdrew her fingers and moved herself up close behind him and take her cock and slap it against his hole. He looked over his shoulder to face her and I had a shot of him smiling as he anticipated what was about to happen. She pushed the tip of her cock just inside him and he wiggled his bum as if desperate to have it inside him. She pushed in a bit further and withdrew a couple of times before plunging her cock right inside him. I saw him shudder as he took the whole length inside and I swear I could hear him grunting as she began to move in and out, slowly at first and then faster and faster.

My hand was now rubbing my cock through my knickers and I pushed them down to get a better. I imagined I was the one in the room across the road fucking Evans and I felt my own climax building as I stroked myself to an orgasm. I put the camera down and leant back against the scaffolding and brought myself off until I came into my hand. Oh my God, this wasn't meant to happen, but what I had watched was so hot I just couldn't stop myself. I cleaned myself up with a tissue and then picked up the camera again. The two of them were now sprawled across the bed and It looked as if she had pulled out before coming as there was cum all over his back. I ran off a few more shots for good measure and then decided I had more than enough evidence and just wanted to get home.

I scrambled down the scaffolding, slipped back out through the fence and was back into my car in a few minutes. I was so anxious to get home and more than a little ashamed at what I had done, that I didn't notice a small red glow as someone took a drag on a cigarette in the darkness across the road.

I drove home to Tooting in a daze. To say I had not been expecting what happened was the understatement of the century. What I had thought was a simple cheating husband case had taken on a completely different complexion. As a T-Girl myself, I was now faced with outing another, in the most horrible manner. Should I let that affect me? Did it make any difference that Gareth Evans was cheating with another T-Girl rather than a woman, or another man for that matter? I was tired and drained and these thoughts were rolling around in my head until I got home. I would have to come to terms with that dilemma, even whether it was one, in the morning.

I woke late the next day and, after a hasty breakfast, called Emily to fill her in on what had happened the previous night. She let out a 'sheeeet' when I told her about Evans' trans performance and she gleefully reminded me that she had told me he would be cheating, but would never have guessed that it would be in such a spectacular way. When I mentioned my reservations about 'outing' Evans, Emily was very clear and direct.

'It's none of your fucking business. The wife is your n client, not Gareth Evans. You like horses right? Well if he was doing it with a horse, would that make any difference?'

The analogy was wonky, as I like horses, but I am not one myself. But I knew she was right and it helped clear my mind for the report I needed to write that morning. I knew Eleanor Northcliffe was still away, so I couldn't deliver the report personally until she returned, six days away, on the following Monday. I needed to write the report this morning when everything was fresh in my mind, so I headed off to the office with my camera and laptop, kick-starting the day with a couple of double espressos.

I started by uploading all the photographs and video to my confidential cloud account as well as backing them to a local hard drive. I couldn't afford to lose this stuff so double bagging the backup was absolutely essential. I worked quickly, using my report template and it only took me a couple of hours to complete and polish the report. It was now lunchtime and I yawned and stretched, immediately feeling a knot in my back from the exertions of last night . I decided to treat myself to a massage at the spa a couple of streets away, followed by a quick pub lunch. I backed up the report to the cloud, grabbed my bag, locked the office and headed out into what had become a beautiful summer's day.

Feeling much better after the massage I arrived back at the office about an hour later and immediately realised something was wrong. The door to my office was open and I knew I had locked it when I left. I stopped at the door and listened but could hear nothing from inside. Grabbing the pepper spray from my bag, I slowly pushed open the door and held the spray out in front of me as I slowly walked into the office. It was obvious it had been ransacked as papers and all the detritus of an office was flung all over the room. With a sinking heart I quickly checked and both the Nikon and my beloved MacBook Air had disappeared. I couldn't tell for sure but it looked as if they were the only two things missing.