by P R Ellis
‘We are police,’ Tom said, showing his warrant card, ‘I’d like the spare key for the room please, just in case Mrs Bunting does not want to let us in.’
‘Oh, yes, I see,’ the young man muttered. He felt around in his desk drawer then reached out with a card in his hand. ‘This is the master keycard.’
‘Good. You can accompany us,’ Tom said. He gave Cherry a gentle shove. ‘Lead on Mr Cherry. Show us to the room.’
The party followed Cherry up the stairs and along a corridor. They stopped outside a bedroom. Tom rapped on the door. There was a faint reply of ‘Who is it?’
Tom nudged, Cherry.
The man looked from Tom to Jasmine and took a breath. ‘It’s Todger, Madame.’
The reply was louder. ‘What are you doing back? I told you to go home.’
‘Um. I have some people with me, Madame. Police.’
There was a cry from inside the room.
‘Open the door please Mrs. Bunting,’ Tom called. There was no reply. Tom turned to the receptionist and nodded. The man stepped forward and slipped the keycard in the slot. When the door beeped he pressed down on the handle. The door swung open. Tom and Jasmine stepped forward into a large bedroom.
Jasmine saw Harriet Bunting standing by the bed facing them. She was in an ankle-length white satin nightdress with her hair in curlers. She faced them.
‘You!’ she screamed and ran at Jasmine, her fists raised. Jasmine stepped back lifted her hands to defend herself, but Tom grabbed Mrs Bunting as she passed. He gripped her shoulders. She struggled for a moment and then subsided, hanging over Tom’s arms.
‘I’m arresting you for the abduction and false imprisonment of Jasmine Frame,’ Tom said, then turned his head to the leading police officer who was behind him. ‘We’re in your jurisdiction. You can say the rest of it.’
The PC came forward reaching to his belt for his handcuffs. He clipped her wrists behind her back as he went through the statement of rights.
‘Take her back to your station,’ Tom said, ‘We’ll follow and sort out the transfer to Kintbridge.’
The PCs led their prisoner out, followed by Tom, Cherry and Jasmine.
26
MONDAY 21st OCTOBER
EARLY MORNING
Jasmine glanced at her watch as Tom brought the Mondeo to a halt outside her home. It was gone three a.m. and she felt drained. It seemed like an age since she had left the house yesterday morning and she felt she could hardly summon the energy to get out of the car.
‘I’ll let you know when we’re interrogating Harriet Bunting,’ Tom said. ‘I’d like you there.’
‘You can’t let me interview her.’
‘No, of course not. It has to be an officer. But I’d like you to listen to her responses and give me guidance.’
‘I’ll be delighted.’
‘But go and get a good night’s sleep. I’d like to get at her as soon as we can, but it will be a while before we get her back from Bristol.’
It had taken a couple of hours booking Harriet Bunting into custody at the Bristol police station. Then there had been the paperwork to transfer her to Kintbridge and arrange the transport. Her belongings, left in the hotel room, had been bagged up as evidence and were sitting in the boot of Tom’s car. Harriet herself was allowed some rest in a cell before her journey home to face interrogation.
‘We can charge her and Smith for what they did to you, Jas, but it’s the murder and arson I’d like to get one or both of them for.’
Jasmine paused with her hand on the door lever. ‘We still don’t have much evidence, do we?’
‘No. Nothing concrete.’
‘So, it’s your interrogation that’s going to have to persuade one of them to tell the true story.’
‘That’s why I need you, Jas. Sleep on it.’
Jasmine stepped out of the car and watched as Tom drove off. She hauled herself up the driveway. It was only when she reached the front door that she remembered that her key along with the other contents of her bag was lost. She would have to ring the doorbell. Was Viv in bed asleep, she wondered.
The door opened. Viv, in a dressing gown, frowned at her.
‘Good god, Jas. Where have you been?’
‘Bristol,’ she said attempting a smile.
‘What on earth for?’
‘To make an arrest.’
‘That’s a police officer’s job. Not yours.’
‘Tom needed me.’
‘Doesn’t Detective Inspector Thomas Shepherd realise that you’re still weak and need to convalesce?’ There was a tone to Viv’s words that Jasmine was not familiar with. Could he actually be jealous?
‘Yes, he does, but I wanted to do my job.’
‘Oh, what job is that?’
‘You know what I do, Viv. I’m a detective.’
‘You were a detective. Now you are a woman who needs to look after herself.’
Jasmine was incredulous. Was this the Viv who looked after her, who provided her with a smart home, who bought her a fancy car? The Viv who had said he loved her? She shivered. It wasn’t just from standing on a doorstep on a cold October night.
‘Can I come in please, Viv? I’m freezing.’
‘Oh, you want to be at home now do you. You’ve finished detecting for tonight?’ He stepped back from the door and she slipped inside.
‘What’s up, Viv?’ she said, closing the door. ‘Why are you being like this?’
‘I’m surprised at you, Jas. I thought that all you wanted was to be a woman.’
She looked at him feeling confused. ‘I did. I do. I am.’
‘Well, why aren’t you looking after yourself instead of taking the risk of undoing the surgeon’s work.’
‘Yes, I know I missed some of my dilations today. But one day won’t matter. I’ll do it now before I settle down.’
‘It’s not just that Jas. You could get injured running around after murderers. Heck, you got knocked around enough today. Doesn’t that make you think again?’
Perhaps it was just concern for her that was making Viv act weirdly.
‘Look, Viv. I appreciate you looking after me, and today has been a bit extraordinary, but doing my job is part of me. It’s part of me as a woman. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life ducking out of investigations because I’ve now got a cunt instead of a dick.’
He looked away from her. ‘There’s no need to be crude, Jas. Look, go to bed. You’re tired. We’ll talk about this later.’
‘Talk about what?’
‘Your job, as you call it.’ He climbed the stairs leaving her speechless and shaking with fury.
She went to the kitchen, drank a glass of water, then went to her bedroom, the bedroom they had shared for the last few nights. Viv wasn’t there. She undressed, showered, slipped on a nightie and went to lie on the bed, alone for the first time in days. She performed her exercises, delighted and relieved that inserting the dilators was no more painful or difficult than previously although she ached all over from the day’s pressures. At last she slipped under the duvet and settled down. She expected to drop off to sleep immediately but she didn’t. Thoughts kept circulating around her mind, not about the case, but about Viv. She had thought they were a couple and that they were setting up a home and a life together. A life where they both had careers and interests as well as love for each other. Had she misinterpreted Viv’s intentions? Was it that he really wanted a stay-at-home wife, one who he could now have normal intercourse with? A wife who would do as he instructed?
Jasmine stirred. A noise had woken her. There it was again. A knocking and a bell ringing. She sat up in the bed. Someone was at the front door. Why hadn’t Viv answered it? Her eye caught her watch on the bedside table. 10:15. She had been asleep after all. Viv must have gone to work without waking her.
The ringing came again. She swung out of bed, grabbed her robe from behind the door and hurried downstairs while flinging it over her shoulders. She reached the door as she wrapped the dressing gown a
round herself.
She pulled the door open. DC Sassani was standing there.
‘Ah, you are in. The DI said you would be.’
‘Hi, Hamid. What are you doing here?’
‘DI Shepherd sent me to fetch you. He realised you didn’t have a car or your mobile and we don’t know the number of your new house phone.’
‘Oh yes, I forgot. He did say he’d let me know when he wanted me. You’d better come in while I get dressed.’ She opened the door wide and lead the young DC into the lounge. ‘Would you like some coffee?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘So would I. Do you mind making it? You’ll find everything in there.’ She pointed into the kitchen.
‘OK. Black, no sugar. I think that is how you like it?’ Hamid said as he moved into the kitchen.
‘That’s it. I won’t be long.’ Jasmine hurried back upstairs. Actually, “not long” was a pretty imprecise period of time. She didn’t need a shower so her trip to the bathroom was relatively short but, not knowing how long she would be at the police station, she decided she couldn’t afford to forego her morning exercises. Then she had to dress and, finally, do her make up.
She returned to the lounge to find Hamid sitting on the sofa with an empty mug. Hers waited on the coffee table with no hint of steam rising from it. She picked it up.
‘I think it’s probably cold,’ Hamid said.
Jasmine gulped down half the mug. ‘Warm,’ she said, telling the truth in that warm filled a large range between cold and hot. She took another mouthful and put the mug down. ‘Right, let’s go.’ She collected a coat from the hallway and stood by the front door.
She let Hamid out and followed him. As she pulled the door closed she remembered she had no key, no bag, no possessions. She hoped Viv would be in, and in a better mood, when she returned. She pulled the door closed.
As they drove off in Hamid’s Ford Focus she faced him.
‘Is Harriet back yet?’
‘On her way,’ Hamid said, ‘DI Shepherd says he will interview her as soon as she arrives but wants to speak to you first.’
The sense of being wanted made Jasmine happy. ‘And Tyler Smith?’
‘Still in custody. The DI says he wants them both in interview rooms at the same time.’
‘Good. We need to get their stories disagreeing.’
‘He’s let Elvis Preston go though,’
Jasmine frowned. ‘Oh, why?’
‘Seems he was seen in a Thirsbury pub on the night of the incident.’
‘Doesn’t mean that he didn’t have time to start the fire, or beat Evelyn Bunting to death for that matter.’
‘No, but DI Shepherd says we should concentrate on Bunting and Smith. We can speak to Preston again later if necessary.’
‘Any reason why Tom’s less interested in Preston and his boss?’
‘I don’t know the details, but I think Harriet Bunting’s phone and other stuff in her handbag are proving to be interesting. Forensics have managed to get more out of Evelyn Bunting’s laptop as well.’
Jasmine was excited. Perhaps there was more evidence after all. They just had to trap Tyler Smith or Harriet Bunting, or both of them, into an admission of guilt for Evelyn’s murder and the fire at Molly’s. But what were the motives?
They were soon at Kintbridge Police Station and climbing the stairs to the V&SCU office. Hamid held the door open for her and she looked in to see Sasha Patel’s and Terry Hopkins’ heads down over their computers. Tom came out of what had been DCI Sloane’s office as they entered.
‘Hi, Jas,’ he greeted her, ‘How are you this morning?’
‘Fine. Better than you by the look of it.’ She noted the DI’s pale complexion and dark eyes.
‘I did manage a couple of hours last night, but we’ve got work to do.’
‘Anything I can do to help?’
‘I hope so. Come and sit down.’ Tom pulled out a couple of chairs by the whiteboard. They sat down, close to where DCs Patel and Hopkins were working. Hamid pulled up his own chair.
Tom said, ‘Tell us what we’ve got from Harriet’s bag, Sasha?’
The young woman lifted a clear evidence bag. ‘There’s a zip-up bag that contains twelve key rings, each with one or two small keys. They are labelled with a number.’
‘I can guess what they are,’ Jasmine said.
Sasha grinned. ‘Yes, we can. The numbers would seem to match the pages in this book.’ She held up another bag. It contained a slim book resembling a diary with hard covers.
‘Her little black book?’ Jasmine said.
‘Well, its dark red actually,’ Sasha said, ‘but it contains details of twelve people, all men. It gives their names and, er, nicknames, their addresses and contact details, and some information about each of them.’
‘Information?’ Jasmine asked.
Sasha’s face seemed to have turned pale pink. ‘Hmm, they seem to be descriptions of the men’s likes and dislikes and the, er, tasks she has set them.’
‘I think I get it,’ Jasmine grinned, ‘It’s her record of her slaves’ performances and what she has planned for them.’
Tom intervened. ‘I don’t think there is anything illegal in any of that, unless we can get her for failing to declare an income. She’s not procuring prostitutes, of either sex, or living off immoral earnings – well not technically. It’s the diary and phone records which are more useful to us, aren’t they, Sasha.’
DC Patel nodded. ‘Her diary has a note of all her appointments with her, um, men, and with Tyler Smith. She also had a couple of meetings with Neville Griffiths.’
‘Did she?’ Jasmine expressed surprise, ‘I thought it was Evelyn that handled all the business dealings.’
‘So did we,’ Tom said, ‘But it’s the phones that are most interesting. Come on Sasha. You’re stringing out the story.’
Sasha Patel smiled. ‘Well I haven’t been through them all yet but Harriet has kept all her text and voice messages from Tyler Smith.’
‘That’s useful,’ Jasmine said thinking that this really could be a breakthrough.
‘It is,’ Sasha said, ‘There’s lot of mundane and, er, intimate stuff, but there are also instructions to do this or that. She received a short message from Tyler last Tuesday evening at nine-ten. It’s just one word, “Done”.’
‘Duh, I wonder what that means,’ Tom said.
‘There’s one thing it could mean,’ Jasmine said, ‘He’s murdered Evelyn.’
‘And started the fire?’ Terry added.
‘Could be,’ Tom agreed in his normal voice.
‘He sent it just before heading back to Faringdon,’ Jasmine said, ‘You said he got back at around ten.’
Tom nodded. ‘Right, well we’ve got that to present to Smith and Bunting and see how they explain it.’
‘Is there anything else?’ Jasmine asked.
‘Yeah,’ Terry Hopkins said, ‘We’ve got some more of Evelyn Bunting’s emails out of his crocked laptop.’
Jasmine’s raised her eyebrows. ‘And they’re interesting?’
‘Sort of,’ Terry replied, ‘He sent a blackmail threat to Nicholls.’
Now Jasmine really was interested.’ ‘Blackmail?’
‘Yeah. Bunting threatened to tell Nicholls’ new girl friend about his dealings with Harriet Bunting’s gang of slaves.’
‘But Nicholls didn’t deal with the slaves. He just chauffeured Harriet to her meetings with them, like Tyler Smith did,’ Jasmine said.
Terry shrugged.
‘He must have been getting desperate,’ Jasmine mused, ‘Realising that paying Gary Nicholls off had ruined the business finances. Perhaps he was hoping he could get some of it back. We know that Tracy is a bit scratchy about Nicholl’s relationship with Harriet and he didn’t want her to know about Harriet’s side line. How did Nicholls’ respond?’
‘He didn’t,’ Terry said, ‘He ignored it. Treated it with the contempt it deserved I suppose.’
‘So, Eve
lyn had to look for other ways of getting some cash,’ Jasmine said, ‘Like fire insurance money?’
‘We’re wondering about that,’ Tom said. ‘The insurance cover was increased a short while ago, but in none of his communications with Griffiths or Preston is fire mentioned.’
‘Well, he wouldn’t want to leave a trail would he,’ Jasmine said.
‘No,’ Tom continued, ‘but his last messages to Griffiths were urging him to buy him out of the business.’
‘Buy him out?’ Jasmine was surprised. ‘He was prepared to hand over Molly’s to Neville Griffiths?’
Tom nodded. ‘Including the building. That was his offer.’
‘What was Griffiths’ reply?’
‘No deal,’ Terry answered, ‘Doesn’t look as though he wanted to get involved with weirdoes buying artificial female body parts.’
Jasmine scowled at Terry. ‘Evelyn was providing a service to a particular group of transgender people.’
‘Not a very lucrative one though,’ Terry glared back at Jasmine, ‘Not now the business has gone online. Shops like Molly’s have had it.’
Jasmine took her eyes off Terry. Her thoughts on Evelyn Bunting were changing. ‘So you think perhaps we were wrong and it wasn’t Evelyn that planned the arson. She was thinking of retiring.’
Tom nodded. ‘That’s the way our thoughts are going.’
The phone on the desk rang. Tom answered it, listened for a moment and put it down.
‘Harriet Bunting has arrived. She’s in interview room one and Tyler Smith is being put in the other. They’ve both got lawyers with them so we’re ready to go. Sasha with me. Jasmine you come and watch. Terry and Hamid. You carry on digging through Tyler and Harriet’s communications.’
Tom headed for the door with Sasha and Jasmine behind. As they went down the stairs, Tom called over his shoulder.
‘Oh, some news for you, Jas.’
‘What’s that?’
‘We found your handbag in Tyler Smith’s car. We’ll let you have it back once it’s been dusted for fingerprints.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ Jasmine was delighted to know that she would get some of her possessions back.
‘And the remains of your phone were found at the Basingstoke hotel. No use to you though. Even the SIM was busted.’