Watching the Detectives

I sat down and began to curse, long and loudly, using every swear word I knew and a few I made up as well. When I had finished, I called the local police station to report the break in. I didn't expect them to do anything, but I needed a crime number from them for the insurance claim I would be making. I could get by with my iPad for a while but the camera was a tool I couldn't do without.

It was while I was on the phone to the police that I noticed something about the door that I should have seen straightaway. Ringing off, I walked across to the door, knelt down and had a good look at the lock. It was a solid, heavy, serious lock, but there was no sign of damage, instead, there were a number of small scratches around the keyhole. I had assumed this was druggies or kids looking for something to fence quickly. However, I didn't think many druggies would be able to pick a lock of this quality.

I spent the afternoon waiting for a Scenes of crime officer to turn up to look for fingerprints, making her coffees only to hear her say, 'You'll never get that stuff back, fenced and sold on by now.' I knew that was probably the case but it didn't improve my already foul mood.

I sent a text to Emily.

'Em. got a problem need 2 talk'

'Wot r u pregnant?'

'No u fool. Need 2 talk tonite'

'OK Rutland at 7'

The Rutland is a beautiful riverside pub just by Hammersmith Bridge. I sat outside in the warmth of the evening and watched the action on the river, idly wondering about how much history had passed by on the river right in front of me. Henry VIII may have been rowed up river past this spot on his way to see his newly acquired palace at Hampton Court, and his daughter Elizabeth must surely have traveled the other way down to the Palace of Westminster. I spotted Emily as she walked across from the bridge and watched as the crowds parted almost by instinct to let her walk through. Men and women turned to watch her walk by. In another life I swear she would have been a Celtic warrior queen leading her people into battle.

'Get me a margarita will you, Phil. I'm gagging for a drink.' she said as she sat down next to me. So much for the warrior queen.

If you ever ask for a margarita in a London pub be prepared for eye rolling, shoulder heaving and passive aggression from the bar staff. The girl behind the bar was about to say no, just because she couldn't be bothered, but her colleague, a tasty looking young guy, stepped in and said, 'No problem Miss, let me get them for you. It'll be a readymade margarita mix but our Tequila is pretty good. I think we've even got a proper glass somewhere. You sit down and I'll bring them across to you.'

I stared at him in astonishment; he had to be new. I paid and went back to Emily, who was closely watching a gaggle of girl rowers, all in lycra shorts, tight tops, pony tails, and giggles stream past. I sat as Emily nodded her head at something behind me and said, 'The brunette at the back.'

'What?' I said and turned to look. She was just like the others; tall, long legs, lithe and athletic and with the soft bloom of youth.

'Baby dyke,' said Emily, 'watch and learn.'

The brunette turned round and looked at Emily who casually took off her sunglasses and looked straight back. The girl turned away and Emily started counting softly, 'one, two, three'...on the count of five, the girl turned back again to look. Emily opened her legs a fraction and the girl went pink and her head snapped round. A few minutes later the crew walked back past our table and the girl hung back a little, casually dropping a piece of paper on the table in front of Emily who winked at her as she hurried off to rejoin her crew.

I grabbed the paper before Emily could and unfolded it. Scrawled on it was 'Cindy, call me' with her telephone number. It's happened before. On the rare occasions we are together in a lesbian club or bar, it's like bees round honey. They are rare occasions as I don't like going to them because right on lesbians don't always want to play nice with us T-Girls. As if we don't get enough hassle from straight society we also get it from some who should know better. Anyway, don't get me started on sexual politics because I will bore the pants off you. I sometimes wondered if lesbians were attracted to each other through some yet to be discovered force akin to magnetism.

My new BFF from the bar brought across the margaritas and smiled broadly at me. 'Enjoy your drinks, girls, let me know if you want anything else.' He gave me another big smile and left, collecting some empty glasses as he went.

'I think you've pulled there babe.' Emily said loudly enough that he must have heard.

'What? You're mad, he's a child.'

'Yea, but you would, wouldn't you?' In a heartbeat I thought to myself.

'So, what's this problem?' Emily said, pulling her hair back and securing it with a scrunchie.

'The office was broken into today. My camera and laptop were stolen.'

'Bloody kids,' she said, 'just wanted them for drug money I guess. It's all insured though, isn't it?'

'Yes, that's not a problem, Everything was backed up as well, so I won't lose anything. The strange thing is it happened when I popped out for an hour at lunchtime. Hell of a coincidence don't you think? Just at the time I was out they choose to break in.'

She squinted at me, 'Well, they would choose a time when you're not there, after all. Or are you saying you think you were targeted?'

I paused as I took a sip of the margarita.

'The locks were picked, not smashed. Still think it was kids?'

Emily was silent for a few seconds, 'No, that doesn't sound like kids, not unless they're teaching Breaking and Entering at GCSE these days. Do you think it's anything to with the Evans case?'

'I had thought of it, for sure, but how could it be? The only person who knows I'm handling it is Eleanor Northcliffe, and she's out of the country.'

Emily frowned, 'Yeah, you're right, that's just too much of a stretch. Just be careful, will you, please.'

'Don't worry, I'll be OK, I have my trusty pepper spray, remember, By the way, how did it go with the woman in the pub? Can I go back there?'

Emily grinned broadly, 'I'm seeing her tonight. Her name's Sophie. In fact, I have to go right now, I'm taking her to her first lesbian bar.' With that, she drained the rest of her drink and with a wave, disappeared into the crowd.

I stayed for a while, luxuriating in the evening sunshine. The barman brought me over another margarita and I said, 'I didn't ask for another one.'

'This one's on me,' he said with a smile, 'It will only cost you your phone number.'

I laughed and thought why not? I scribbled my number on a bar mat and he slipped it into his jeans pocket.

'Thanks babe, catch you sometime.'

I left soon after and realised that my drive home would take me right past the road in Barnes where I had been last night. As I passed the end of the road I shivered, remembering what had I had seen and done the previous night. It was dark when I arrived home and I only had to spend five minutes trying to find a parking space for the car but it left me a few hundred yards walk away from my front door, and as I paused to find my keys in my bag a voice behind me called out, 'Fucking bitch.'

I turned to face the voice, my hand reaching for the spray in my bag. The next thing I remember was trying to force my eyes open. I tried to sit up but my head hurt too much and I could hear someone talking but they seemed to be a long way away and I couldn't hear what they saying. I knew I had to open my eyes but I couldn't get them to obey my brain. The voice got closer and clearer and a man was speaking, 'Don't try to get up Miss, the ambulance is on it's way.'

Ambulance? What for? Is somebody hurt? It was then that I realised I was the one who was hurting. My head ached and my ribs did too. I finally forced one eye open and looked up into the worried eyes of a young guy who was kneeling beside me. I was sprawled on the pavement outside my house and felt around for my bag.

'If it's your bag you're looking for, Sally over there has got it safe. She's called the ambulance and they're on their way.' I looked around and there was an equally worried looking girl holding my bag. She tried to smile and said, 'We were round the corner and heard you scream, so we legged it round here and found you laying on the pavement. We heard some footsteps running away and guessed you had been attacked.'

'Thanks, but I'm sure I will be alright, if you could just help me up, I can get inside. It's my house just here.'

The girl spoke again, 'Jack's a first aider, he says you might have concussion and that's why we called the ambulance.'

At that moment I heard the ambulance siren as it came round the corner and Sally jumped into the road to stop them.

i tried to say that I was OK but my head felt heavy and my vision blurred and I must have passed out again. I can't remember much of the next few hours, although bits and pieces of it came back now and then. It's a mashup of sounds and voices and half remembered faces peering down at me with lights being flashed in my eyes and people asking me my name.

The doctor who came to see me when I finally woke up tried to fill me in on what had happened. I had been attacked outside my house, taken a big thump to the back of the head which had knocked me down and had then been kicked a few time as I lay on the pavement. Jack and Sally had rushed round the corner when they heard me scream and Jack had put me into the recovery position as Sally called the ambulance.

There didn't appear to be any serious damage but he wanted to run a few tests as I had been hit hard on the back of my head and he was worried about concussion. If all went well, he expected me to be discharged the following morning. He had given me something for the pain and told me to get some rest. He also told me that I had been lucky, because if I hadn't screamed and Jack and Sally hadn't been there so quickly, if might have been much worse.

He smiled and said that when I was admitted there was a bit of confusion about whether I should be in a male or female ward, but they had solved it by putting me into one of the private rooms. I managed a painful grin and told him it was the first time being TG had been a benefit. He laughed and said he would be back later to check on me.

3 Tim

I had drifted back to sleep again when I sensed somebody standing by the bed. I cracked open an eyelid to see the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes looking down at me.

'Hello, Miss Taplow, I'm Detective Constable Tim Kent, is it OK to have a word?'

I knew the police would turn up sometime as the hospital would have reported the incident as a matter of routine. Tim Kent looked young and very cute. Policemen had obviously changed a lot since my dad's day. I opened both eyes and said, 'Sure, why not.'

He sat down on the visitors chair and took out his notebook. 'You're Philippa Taplow, is that right?'

I nodded and he went on, 'and you gave Charles Taplow as you next of kin?'

Another nod.

'Would that be ex Chief Superintendent Taplow, by any chance?'

'Yes, he's my father.'

Constable Kent looked up from his notebook and said, 'I understood the ex Chief Super had one child,' he looked down at his notebook and then up at me, 'called Philip.'

I rolled my eyes and said, 'What's this got to do with what happened to me?'

He levelled those gorgeous eyes at me and said, 'Just checking who you are, er, Miss.'

'Look if it's any of your business, I was Philip, I'm now Philippa, can we get on with what happened to me?'

'Well, you see, Miss Taplow, it may well be all about what happened to you last night.'

'God, you think this happened because I'm TG, don't you?'

'Don't you?' he replied. He also had the most beautiful eyelashes I have seen on a man to go with those hazel eyes.

'Oh,' I dragged myself back to his question, 'actually, no, I think it's more likely to be because...' I just stopped myself from blabbing about what I had been doing the past few days.

'Because of what. Miss?'

'For God's sake, please stop calling me Miss. It sounds like I'm a primary school teacher. Call me Philippa, everybody else does.'

He smiled and said, 'OK, Mi...Philippa. Why do you think you were attacked?'

'No, no, you're probably right, some people out there don't like girls like us.'

He paused and hoped I would say more, but I know when to shut up and let the silence just hang there. He looked back down at his notebook, 'Did you know there were over 100 reported attacks on TG people last year in London alone?'

I shook my head, 'You're wrong, It's a lot more than that,' I said, 'most of them don't get reported.'

He nodded, 'Yes, I know and it's the reason why we set up the Hate Crimes Unit. I joined the unit a few weeks ago and when the hospital reported your attack last night, I was called.'

'Great, too late for me though.'

'Yes, I'm sorry, but if we catch these people then maybe we can stop it happening again.'

'I'm sorry, but it will take much, much more than arresting a few neanderthal knuckle draggers to stop it happening. Until society understands being different is not evil or perverted and accepts people for who they are, it won't stop.'

He looked calmly back at me, 'Yes, I think you're right, but I can only try to catch them and lock them up.'

I fell back on the pillows, 'OK, how can I help you?'

'Did you get a look at whoever attacked you?'

'No, he came at me from behind as I was trying to unlock my door and hit me as I turned round. I didn't get a look at him at all'

'Did he say anything?'

'He called me a fucking bitch and that's why I turned round. And no, I didn't recognise the voice.'

'Nothing else, you can think of? Anybody who you think would want to do you harm?'

'I'm a private detective, I've upset a lot of people in my line of work, but I don't think there's anyone who stands out. I've not had any threats and I'm not aware of anyone following me.'

'Nothing else, then?'

'No, not really. Can I get some sleep now? My head is killing me.'

'OK, Philippa, can I get back to you if I have any further questions?' 'Sure, sure. Anytime, detective.'

He paused on his way out and turned to say, 'By the way, Philippa, I was after your dad's time, but I heard he was a good copper.'

That was nice of him to say, and it made me feel very proud of Dad.

As I drifted off, all I could think of was how jealous I was of those eyelashes. Sometime later I was dozing when Emily's face appeared around the door and she crept into the room.

'God, you look terrible,' she said.

'No shit, Sherlock. I feel fabulous.'

'I hate hospitals,' she said as she put a bag of grapes and a bottle of Lucozade on the bedside table.

'Well it's a good thing then it's me in here and not you,' I said, trying to sit up and wincing as my bruises decided join in the fun.

'And I hate Lucozade,' I grumbled. Emily ignored me and began eating the grapes.

'Some very hot nurses here, you know,' she now had a mouth full of grapes.

'I had noticed, Em. It's a hospital, that's where they have nurses.'

Sarcasm was wasted on Emily who had by now munched her way through half the grapes.

'I get so turned on by those uniforms,' this was a side of Emily I had never appreciated before.

'How was policeman plod?' Emily asked. The grapes were nearly all gone now, a few small thin ones still remained on the otherwise bare stalk.

'He was actually cute, has lovely eyelashes. He had heard of my dad who he reckons had been a good copper.'

'So is cute policeman plod any closer to catching who attacked you?'

'I don't think so, he thinks it's a hate crime.'

Emily looked sideways at me, 'And you don't believe a word, right?'

'Don't know Em, God knows there are enough attacks on us. It might be, but I have my doubts after the break in. Maybe I'm just getting paranoid.'

Emily sat on the edge of the bed and then she pulled down the bed cover and slid in beside me.

'Em, you can't do that in here, get out.' I hissed at her.

'Who says? You've got a private room here. I bet you could do with some stress release.' With that she disappeared under the covers and I felt her fingers and then her mouth around my cock.

'Oh my God, Em, you can't do this in hospital.'

I could feel her tongue wrapping itself around my cock and I could feel myself getting harder as she used her hands and mouth to bring me to the edge. I closed my eyes as she started to pump her head up and down on my cock and her tongue was driving me wild.

'Oh my God, Em, you have to stop, I'm going to cum if you don't.' She mumbled something which I couldn't hear with her head under the cover. I opened my eyes and saw a face peering into the room through a chink in the curtains.

'For fuck's sake Em, there's someone watching! Stop it!'

Emily, of course, did no such thing and just kept sucking. I could feel my climax building and and I leant my head back and groaned as I came into her mouth. Emily finally emerged with a big smile on her face just as the nurse who had been watching came into the room.

Emily leant over me and gave me a kiss goodbye and I could taste myself on her lips. As Emily left the room she glanced at the nurse who was staring at her with wide open eyes and gave her a wink. The nurse blushed and hurried across to my bed and began plumping up my pillows and straightening the sheets.

'Your friend, you know, are you together?' she said in a low voice.

I leant towards her and said, 'God, no, we're just good friends. Why?'

'Well, is she with anyone at the moment?'

'No, not right now.'

I knew what was coming.

'You don't have a number for her, do you...'

Here it goes again I thought.

The doctor appeared again and told me that the test results were all in and revealed no more damage than the bruises and cuts I had received during the attack. He said I could go home but to rest for a day or two, to let the bruises heal and take painkillers if I needed to. It was with immense relief I walked out of the hospital and took a taxi home. For once in my life, I did as I had been told and just took it easy.

Em came round and we shared takeaways and too much wine, but I began to feel better and the bruises had started to change colour as they healed. Em slept over the first night back and she held me tight and we kissed and cuddled until I fell asleep. It felt good to have someone sharing the bed. We also shared a shower together and it was bliss to have her gently wash and soap my bruised body. Thankfully, I couldn't remember the kicking I had received but it was my ribs that had suffered most. They had turned various shades of black, red, blue and green. I probably looked like fruit a week past it's best by date.

It was two days later on the Thursday morning when I went back to the office and I spent the morning clearing up and cleaning the mess the Scenes of crime officer had made trying to lift fingerprints. It was a relief, therefore, to be interrupted by the phone. It was DC Kent asking how I was and if I would be willing to answer a few more questions.

Grateful for the respite I agreed and he said he could be over in half an hour. He turned up a few minutes early and after accepting a cup of coffee we sat down.

'Thanks for seeing me again, Miss Taplow, I mean Philippa. I'm sorry I don't have any definite news about who attacked you, but I wanted you to see something.'

He placed his iPad on the table and a grainy video started to play. It had been taken at night and showed two men, one larger than the other, running down a street before disappearing from view.

Tim said, 'That was from three weeks ago following an attack on a transgender woman in Streatham. She ended up in hospital too.'