Molly's Boudoir: the 4th Jasmine Frame novel (Jasmine Frame Detective)

by P R Ellis

  ‘My car?’

  ‘Yes. You can’t go on with that old Fiesta. It’s unreliable and probably unsafe. You need a newer car.’

  ‘But I can’t afford a Mini, even a second-hand one. That one’s only three years old.’

  ‘You don’t have to afford it. I’ll pay for it.’

  Jasmine sighed, ‘Oh, Viv. You don’t have to buy me a new car. Even if my old one has given up, I can buy another.’

  ‘What? Another clapped out wreck. I know what your finances are like, Jas. But look, we’re a team now. What’s mine’s yours. You contribute what you can and I make up the rest. If you insist on going back to your detecting business I want you to have a decent car for your job. I’ll put up the cost. You can call it a loan if you like and claim back the tax on it as an essential expense or whatever, I don’t mind.’

  ‘Well…’ Jasmine was uncertain. She didn’t want to be dependent on Viv’s generosity, but she did enjoy being with him and she did need a reliable car. ‘OK, a loan then.’

  ‘Come and have a look at it. See whether you like it.’ He took Jasmine’s hand and lead her out of the house. The light was beginning to fade but they walked around the car. Jasmine admired the look of it but some doubts niggled.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit flash?’

  ‘What do you mean, Jas?’

  ‘If I’m on surveillance won’t people notice a two-tone Mini parked nearby or following them? Perhaps a car that stands out less would be better.’

  ‘Such as?’ Viv was still grinning.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she didn’t have much interest in cars, ‘another Fiesta, a more recent one, or that Nissan I had today.’

  Viv shook his head, ‘I wouldn’t worry if I was you. There are plenty of these new Minis around now, they’re as much part of the scenery as Fiestas or Micras. Give it a go.’

  Viv opened the driver’s door and beckoned for her to get in.

  She made herself comfortable in the driving seat and surveyed the controls. She liked it.

  ‘Have you paid for it? What about my old car?’

  ‘I know the dealer. He let me borrow it to show you. Your old banger is still in the garage. They’ll take it in part exchange.’

  ‘Not much I bet.’

  ‘No, but they’ll tow it away. Look, let’s get the hire car back, I’ll follow you in this and then you can take it for a test drive. How does that sound?’

  Jasmine was sitting in the old red Fiesta in the garage while Viv was cooking dinner. The deal was done and her old car would be collected on Monday morning. The smart, newish Mini, was on the drive registered in her name, but she wanted a few minutes with her old friend. It held lots of memories of the eight or more years that she had been the owner. It had been Angela’s car at first. To be perfectly honest, it was pretty old even then. It was their transport in their first years of married life and then became her own car when they separated, and she transitioned. It had accompanied her on all her cases as a private investigator until now. It was part of her life as a woman.

  ‘Hey, Jas. Come in.’ Viv called out from the door between the garage and the house.

  Jasmine pushed the door of the Fiesta open with a creak. ‘Is dinner ready?’

  ‘No. Tom Shepherd’s here.’

  Oh, god, she hadn’t reported in, and there was so much to tell him. She got out and pushed on the car door. It closed but the lock didn’t catch. She left it and hurried into the kitchen. Tom was leaning against a kitchen unit while Viv poured boiling water into a coffee mug.

  ‘I’m sorry Tom. I should have got in touch. We’ve been sorting out my car since I got back.’

  ‘So Viv said. What’s this about Tyler? What have you been doing? Hamid said something about Oxford and Cheltenham.’

  ‘That’s where I’ve been. Come and have a sit down and I’ll explain. You’ll love it.’

  Viv handed the mug to Tom and returned to his food preparation. Tom followed Jasmine into the lounge and settled his lanky frame into the sofa. Jasmine sat by his side.

  ‘Go on then Jas. Tell me what you’ve got.’

  ‘You know that Hamid and I found that there were two other people with Harriet and Tyler on Tuesday evening in Faringdon and they, the guests, that is, paid for dinner and the room Harriet stayed in.’

  ‘Yeah, that sounded a bit odd.’

  ‘The explanation is odder. Hamid got the names and addresses of the two guests – Montgomery Russell in Oxford and Edward Wilson in Cheltenham.’

  ‘So you paid a visit to them.’

  ‘That’s right. Russell first. He was an affable middle-aged university type, a bit shocked at first when I showed up but gradually loosened up and told me all about it.’

  ‘It?’

  ‘Yes. Get this. He and Wilson, and some other blokes, are Harriet Bunting’s slaves. Each of them wears a chastity cage like Evelyn, and she, Madame de la Clef, holds the keys.’

  Tom’s eyes had widened. ‘Madame de la Clef? What does she get out of it? Some feeling of power?’

  Jasmine chuckled, ‘Probably, but that’s not all. She charges for the service, about two thousand pounds a year in Russell’s case.’

  ‘What! Is he mad?’

  ‘No, besotted with her perhaps, but quite sane in other respects.’

  ‘He’s in love with Harriet Bunting?’

  ‘I don’t think I’d call it love. She certainly has a hold on both of them and presumably the others.’

  ‘Good god. What was this meeting on Tuesday for?’

  ‘Well, from time to time, Harriet lets them out of their cages, but they have to perform forfeits before she will do so.’

  ‘Forfeits? Like what?’

  ‘On Tuesday, Wilson had to turn up at the hotel in drag, though he’s not a transvestite. Or he wasn’t before. Then he and Russell had to perform gay sex in front of Harriet.’

  ‘Gay sex?’

  ‘They fellated each other.’

  ‘So they’re gay?’

  ‘No, they’re not. They are both straight, at least they thought they were. This act was meant to be humiliating for them.’

  ‘And was it?’

  ‘Well, they both did it, so they must have been aroused.’

  Tom frowned, ‘And Harriet Bunting watched them.’

  ‘And took photos and videos of them at it,’ Jasmine added.

  ‘For blackmail purposes?’

  ‘That’s what I thought of. It hadn’t occurred to Russell that that might be a possibility. He was just glad to have pleased Madame and had his release from the cage, for a while.’

  ‘They’re locked in again now are they?’

  ‘Oh, yes, until the next time.’

  He shook his head, ‘Well I don’t get it, but I don’t suppose there is anything illegal about it unless we can get Harriet Bunting for living off immoral earnings or for tax evasion if she doesn’t declare her earnings.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ Jasmine said.

  ‘Okay, Jas. That’s all very sordid and interesting but what has it got to do with the case?’

  Jasmine grinned, ‘Tyler Smith wasn’t there.’

  Tom frowned, ‘What do you mean?’

  Jasmine explained. ‘Tyler Smith and Harriet Bunting both said they spent the night together at the Royal Hotel, but while Harriet was in the room with her two slaves, Tyler wasn’t with them. Neither Russell nor Wilson saw him after they left the dining room soon after seven-thirty.’

  Tom shrugged. ‘Perhaps he stayed in the bar, or the residents’ lounge if the hotel has one.’

  ‘Of course,’ Jasmine felt a little frustrated, ‘we have to check that out, but the point is his alibi doesn’t stack up and he had time to get to Thirsbury and back and be with Harriet soon after her two guys left. It’s only three-quarters-of-an-hour each way.’

  ‘You’re right Jas, we have to check him out. I’ll get Hamid on it tomorrow.’

  ‘Tyler Smith could be Evelyn’s killer or the one
who torched the place,’ Jasmine insisted. She felt that Tom was resisting her hunch.

  ‘Perhaps, but I’m sure Neville Griffiths and his boys are involved.’

  ‘Have you found anything yet? I thought there wasn’t any evidence among Evelyn’s phone or email records?’

  Tom agreed, ‘Yes, but we got permission to go into Griffiths’ and Elvis Preston’s records.’

  ‘Elvis who?

  ‘He’s Griffiths’ fixer. If he’s not by his side fielding visitors he’s out pursuing debtors.’

  ‘Any luck?’

  ‘Yes, we think we have a record of a couple of phone conversations he had with Bunting.’

  ‘That could have been about paying the loan back,’ Jasmine said.

  ‘Yes, but Evelyn only paid the first instalment and missed at least two months payments. Preston would not have let that pass unless they had other plans; and Bunting did renew, and increase, his fire insurance in late September.’

  ‘It’s circumstantial, Tom.’

  ‘I know but I’m sure Griffiths and Bunting were putting a plan together.’

  ‘You need more evidence than you’ve got to make an arrest.’

  ‘I know, that’s the frustrating bit. I’m sure we’re close to discovering something.’

  ‘Well, I want to speak to Harriet and Tyler again, especially as I now know where Harriet is getting her money from and that she has a team of avid worshippers who will do anything, perhaps literally, to please her.’

  ‘You go on with that line of enquiry, Jas.’

  ‘It still leaves one person.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Gary Nicholls. We know he was a partner in the business and Harriet’s lover. That seems to have ended in the last six months. He’s the reason why Evelyn was in debt. We haven’t spoken to him yet, have we?’

  ‘No, we haven’t been able to track him down. We’ve got his address near Kintbridge, but he hasn’t been seen there for a couple of weeks. Neighbours don’t know where he’s gone. He has investments in a number of small businesses but none of them seem to have much contact with him. I can’t see why he’d kill Bunting or be involved in the insurance scam.’

  ‘I’ll try his address again in the next few days.’

  ‘Thanks, Jas, I haven’t got the staff to keep an eye out for him.’ Tom looked at his watch. ‘I’d better be going. I don’t want to miss Abi’s bedtime again.’

  ‘How’s she doing, Tom?’ Jasmine said wondering what it was like to live with a small child.

  Tom looked dreamy. ‘Gorgeous, except that I hardly get to see her. Soph says she’ll never recognise me as her Dad if I can’t be around when she’s awake.’

  ‘Well, you’d better get home. It’s Saturday evening. Let the junior staff do the work.’

  Tom laughed. ‘Junior staff. Do you know, Terry Hopkins has taken to calling me “Boss”? I think he means it ironically.’

  ‘Terry would never want to do your job. He likes being told what to do and grumbling about it.’

  Tom hauled himself to his feet. ‘I know you didn’t get on, especially when you began, you know what, but he’s a good copper.’

  ‘Sort of,’ Jasmine grudgingly agreed. She escorted Tom to the door and waved as he got into his car.

  Viv shouted from the kitchen ‘Dinner is served!’

  17

  SUNDAY 20th OCTOBER

  MORNING

  Warily, Jasmine drove the Mini along the country road. One touch of the accelerator seemed to make it leap forward, something she wasn’t used to with the old red Fiesta. She had an address and a vague idea how to reach it but thinking about driving the new car was competing with looking out for landmarks.

  She came to a small village, not much more than a hamlet except there had been some recent house-building. Quite expensive housing, she noted. She slowed at a crossroads and turned left. This was the road. She pulled up at a large newly-built, arts and crafts style, house. There was a car in the driveway, a Volvo estate. It looked as though someone was home. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Just after eleven. A reasonable time on a Sunday morning to pay a visit.

  Jasmine got out of the car and pressed the button on the key fob. Remote locking was a luxury she had not enjoyed on the old Ford, nevertheless she checked that the doors were locked. She walked up to the porch and pressed the doorbell.

  A few moments passed before the door was opened. Jasmine observed the man. He was dressed in chinos and t-shirt, almost summer attire rather than late October even though the sun was shining. He was tall, over six foot, and there did not seem to be any spare flesh on him, but his pepper and salt hair betrayed his age – mid-fifties.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said in a somewhat surprised tone. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Gary Nicholls?’ Jasmine asked.

  He frowned. ‘Yes. Who wants to know?’

  Jasmine performed the familiar motion of pulling her id out of her pocket. ‘I’m Jasmine Frame. I’m carrying out investigations on behalf of the Kintbridge Police.’

  ‘Police?’

  ‘We’ve been trying to contact you. You haven’t been at home.’

  ‘No. We just got back. Holidays.’

  ‘You said “we”?’

  ‘Me and Tracy, my, er, girlfriend. What’s this all about? Why do the police want to contact me?’

  ‘I can explain, Mr Nicholls, but can I come in and speak to your girlfriend too?’

  ‘Uh, yeah. Come in. Trace is upstairs.’ He stepped back from the door and called the name. A young woman in shorts and a sleeveless top, with sun-bleached hair and long sun-tanned legs appeared at the top of the stairs.

  ‘What is it, Gary?’

  ‘Come down. It’s the police. Been trying to contact us, well me, I suppose.’

  The girl, who appeared to be thirty years younger than Nicholls, skipped down the stairs and followed them into a spacious lounge with a picture window looking over the rear garden.

  Nicholls beckoned Jasmine to sit on a large leather sofa. ‘Now, what’s this all about?’

  ‘I believe you know Harriet and Evelyn Bunting,’ Jasmine began.

  ‘Yes.’ The reply was guarded, not a simple affirmative.

  ‘When was the last time you saw either of them?’

  Nicholls laughed, ‘Not for months. Why?’

  Jasmine ignored the query. ‘You said you’ve been on holiday. Can you tell me where?’

  ‘Okay. The Maldives. We wanted some sunshine.’

  ‘And when did you go there?’

  ‘Two weeks ago. We had a fortnight. Well almost, the travelling, you know.’

  ‘So you were out of the country all this past week?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I said.’ Nicholls looked annoyed and the girl standing by his side had a confused expression. ‘Look, do you mind telling me what this is about?’

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ Jasmine said sweetly, ‘On Tuesday evening, Evelyn Bunting was killed and there was a fire at Molly’s.’

  Tracy clapped a hand over her mouth and let out a little gasp. Nicholls frowned. ‘Evelyn was killed in a fire at their place?’

  Jasmine sucked her cheek. ‘Not quite. I said, Evelyn was killed and there was a fire. They are not necessarily connected.’

  Nicholls frowned. ‘I don’t get it. Do you mean Evelyn wasn’t killed by the fire?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘How did she die then?’

  ‘I can’t say at the moment Mr Nicholls, but we are investigating the cause of death and how the fire started.’

  ‘They weren’t accidents then?’

  ‘No.’ Before he could ask another question Jasmine pressed on. ‘We understand that you used to be a partner in the business.’

  ‘Used to be. Not anymore.’

  ‘You have no interest in the business undertaken at Molly’s?’

  Nicholls shook his head. ‘None at all.’

  ‘We understand that Mr Bunting paid you a sum to buy out your share i
n the business.’

  Nicholls shrugged, ‘Yes, that’s business.’

  ‘Do you mind telling me how much he paid you?’

  ‘Well, it was between us, but I suppose it’s general knowledge now if you’ve looked into Evelyn’s affairs. It was one hundred thousand pounds.’

  ‘That’s quite a large sum.’

  ‘It was less than it should have been given my level of investment over the years.’

  ‘Oh, so your involvement in Molly’s was purely financial, was it?’

  ‘Er…’ Nicholls paused and turned to his girlfriend. ‘Hey, Trace, why don’t you go and make some coffee. I could do with a cup after the journey. You too I expect, and you, Miss Frame?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Jasmine replied. The girl stood and trotted out of the room.

  ‘Does Tracey know about you and Mrs Bunting.’

  Nicholls bit his lip. ‘I was waiting for you to bring that up. My interest in the business was not purely financial as you put it, because I was in a relationship with Harriet.’

  ‘Tracy doesn’t know?’

  ‘She knows I was previously in a relationship with an older woman, Harriet Bunting, but she doesn’t know the, um, details.’

  ‘Which are what exactly, Mr Nicholls.’

  Gary Nicholls flushed. ‘It was complicated. I met Harriet years ago and we started an affair. I knew she was married but I didn’t understand at the time the er, nature of that marriage. Harriet got me to invest in the business and I got a bit hooked in.’

  ‘You didn’t approve of the business Evelyn was in?’

  Nicholls shook his head. ‘No, that was fine. Evelyn ran it well, knew his clientele, and his suppliers. It made money. At first anyway, until the internet turned things on their head.’

  ‘So, what were your reservations?’

  ‘They weren’t reservations. It’s just, um, a bit complicated to explain Harriet and me and Evelyn.’

  ‘You mean Tracy may not understand Harriet’s dominance of Evelyn and your role?’

  Nicholl’s glanced to the door then back at Jasmine. ‘That’s about it.’

  ‘Well, can you explain it to me. You see I know Evelyn was trans. A sissy is the more descriptive term. Harriet kept him in female clothes and, I think the phrase is “in chastity”.’