Cade quickly became known for his ability to cultivate informants, to gather information and turn it into intelligence, above all he knew how to get results. He almost single-handedly ran the unit when Derek Kay did eventually leave the force. Cade knew he had large boots to fill but proposed and delivered new systems, created new methods of gathering data and soon became the go-to person in the station and later on the subject matter expert on the Division.
He forced the organisation into the 21st century, kicking and screaming at first but they rapidly gained a reputation as one of the front runners in intelligence led policing. Whilst the senior staff took the credit everyone knew who was responsible for creating the foundations and building a capable and effective team.
If you wanted to know the answer about something, somewhere or someone, you paid a visit to Jack Cade.
Cade’s professional life meant that he could study for his sergeant’s exams and in less than six months he was not only ready to take them he passed with a higher-than-average mark, all of which attracted attention from his old Shift Inspector Tom Jackson.
Jackson was an ex-military man and had an eye for skill and raw talent and despite knowing that he would be losing one of his best men he recommended Cade for promotion in 2001.
A role as a frontline response sergeant followed which Cade both enjoyed and excelled at. He was fully fit and raring to go. He hated his wife more than ever, but somehow they managed to live a life of complete separation, the twain never meeting.
Despite enjoying the role Cade often found himself harking back to the world of intelligence. He’d set a few benchmarks at district level but knew he could go no further, unless he moved or left the organisation. What he needed was a parallel shift and it would arise at the most unexpected time and location.
Chapter Fifteen
Cade was at a rare social event, made even rarer by the fact that he was with his wife.
It was the late spring of 2002, he’d had his stripes for a while, had a great section and a reasonably supportive boss. Professionally life was ‘OK’.
It was his shift inspector, Grant Cooke, who had invited him and Penny to an early season barbecue. Cooke was a good-looking man, in his mid-forties and fitter than most men half his age. He had black, shiny hair that appeared almost entirely natural. He also had a reputation as a hard bastard; worked hard and played harder. But above all he had a roving eye which normally settled upon the fairer sex and rather fortuitously he had a flexible and adventurous wife.
“Bring some beer and wine and make sure you bring that gorgeous wife too! You are welcome to stay the night,” his boss had announced as the two men had gone their separate ways after finishing a set of nights.
“Will do boss, see you Saturday.”
In truth he really couldn’t be bothered. It was a work event and as such the topic would all be about work. As it happened, he couldn’t have been further from the truth.
The weather was simply beautiful as Jack and Penny arrived. He parked his blue Ford Focus ST outside the imposing, modern but almost anonymous four-bedroomed home.
He suggested Penny should go ahead as he collected a few bags from the boot. By the time he had slammed the tailgate Penny Cade was being greeted enthusiastically at the front door.
She had never changed; the life and soul of any party and effortlessly attractive to the eye. She always made the most of her more than ample figure and today was no different. A simple summer dress, white with red Hibiscus flowers splattered over it, it was slashed up the leg and plunged, just enough to reveal her good-enough-to-dive-into cleavage.
Above all, she knew how to work a crowd, and if that crowd was predominantly male so much the better.
As Cade walked towards the house a former colleague arrived and eagerly wanted to show off his new acquisition, a bright red Subaru Impreza. Cade, a keen driver was soon sat in the driver’s seat and probing the switchgear and trying out the gearbox.
“What do you think Jack?”
“Nice Phil, we should have a race sometime!”
“Indeed mate, but perhaps another time, that car is like a wife to me, talking of which, you brought your missus tonight?”
“Yes, she’s gone inside, to be honest she doesn’t need me around, she’s at her best with a crowd.”
His colleague popped the bonnet on the WRX and showed off the engine. As Cade looked at the impressive layout, his workmate looked longingly at the house and involuntarily licked his lips. It was clear that Phil Clarke’s mind was on other things.
In an apparent change of heart, he threw the keys at Cade.
“Take her for a spin, try her out, it’s good to compare wives!”
Cade laughed and agreed.
“I’ll be ten minutes, keep an eye on Penny for me, make sure she moderates her alcohol, she tends to get a little bloody wild if not.”
Fifteen minutes later Cade returned to 26 Beech Avenue or as the sign on the driveway said, Sycamore Lodge. He parked the Subaru and locked it. He was impressed, she handled very well indeed.
He knocked on the door but getting no answer walked into the hallway without being greeted, he could see that Penny was already holding court. He knew she hadn’t missed him at all.
He also knew how she liked to flirt and with five men around her in such a short time it neither surprised nor shocked Cade to see her clearly holding court and very much on form.
He took a moment to study her for she was oblivious to him even being there, enjoying the undivided attention from Section Two, the off duty Armed Response Group.
He knew why he had fallen for her a few years before. It was for the same reason that every man in that immaculate but stereotypical home, complete with its bespoke Canadian Maple kitchen now couldn’t take their eyes off her.
She was playful, quick-witted, flirtatious and bold. She had an amazing head of bright, blazing red hair too and Cade, well he was an easy target for a redhead.
She was trim, in all the right places, looked after herself and was the archetypal suburban bored housewife. When she and Cade first met, she had come out of a tempestuous relationship but one which she endured purely for the physicality of its sex life. Her ex-partner would beat her during lovemaking and she loved it, got a kick out of it and made endless excuses for the bruises and the barely visible flinches each time she put pressure on her battered body.
One day it became all too much, he overstepped the agreed limits, and she called the police.
Cade was the first officer on the scene, offered her advice and a comforting arm. The rest as they say is history.
They fell deeply in love; the sex was quite incredible, more than he could have ever had hoped for. She was voracious, daring and almost reckless. But no matter what he offered, attempted or tried it was never enough. He pushed the boundaries, further and further until he was finally able to satisfy her.
Weeks became months and without warning he asked her to marry him and much to his surprise she agreed.
Penelope Roberta Stephens became Penny Roberta Cade.
It was a friend of the Groom who announced on that all-too-forgettable Saturday and for all to hear that she’d become Penny R. Cade and it was clear from her ferocious glare that she despised the friend and somehow her new husband too for not defending her honour, but more so she was furious about the cheap link to a seaside amusement hall.
She didn’t speak to him until the next morning, having successfully evaded his every wedding night advance.
The next day they flew to Tenerife on honeymoon and made love each day, and every night, leaving little time for sightseeing. It was on Day Nine that she suggested that they invite the young American couple from the adjoining apartment to join them and from that moment Cade knew his marriage was doomed.
Life continued ‘normally’ when they returned, but she never allowed him to forget how much she wanted to experience two men at once. It came up in almost every conversation in the bedroom, skilfully, brutally she steered Cade
down the same path again and again until one day he relented.
It was an unmitigated disaster and for Cade being a serving police officer not without risk. But it was that very risk that excited Penelope Cade.
The very next evening she convinced her husband to break into the newly completed show home that had been built at the end of their road. She announced her desire to have sex with him in the unfinished bathroom – she said she wanted it in the bath; dusty, dirty and completely, unashamedly naked.
“But what if we get caught?” Cade asked, almost pleadingly.
“Then they’ll have to join us darling,” she replied with a teasing wink.
Going against his better judgement he agreed. They found an open door and made their way upstairs under the guidance of Cade’s cell phone; it throwing out just enough light to navigate by. In minutes, she was ready and as usual took the lead.
Whilst he tried to maintain a level of covertness, she screamed her lungs out in ecstasy, awaking the neighbours who alerted the local police.
He knew he had to put an end to this – but at that moment the key was to escape and leave behind no evidence. They hid in the garden until the coast was clear. He prayed that the attending staff would be inept and not find them. His wishes were granted. Meanwhile, she adored the whole experience and confessed later that she wanted to be found.
He had started to hate her, albeit the sex was indeed almost absurd, he found that her constant demands were, despite what most men thought, beyond control. It was no longer fun.
From that day they made a pact, without a word being uttered, to travel along different paths. Penny continued to manage what she saw as a boring job in a mundane role within a tedious Building Society, hunting for new conquests whenever the chance arose, whilst Cade busied himself with work and more work, volunteering for any overtime that was going.
He knew he would miss her ‘her’ but not ‘them’ and despite desperate attempts to avoid the inevitable he knew she would soon leave him, or kill him in the process.
In the hallway of Sycamore Lodge, he stood alone, watching her select her prey, dancing and weaving like a Siren, luring her next conquest onto the rocks. She threw her head back in laughter revealing straight, ermine-white teeth, a sleek neck and a glimpse of what lay beyond that enthralling cleavage.
She was tactile, stroking one or two of the men with her long, manipulative fingers before sipping elegantly from a glass of champagne, her tongue darting onto the strawberry that clung to the side of the glass.
“Jack, welcome, what took you so long? Penny has been entertaining the troops, come on in and meet the gang,” announced Cooke as he walked from the kitchen to the hallway.
“Come join us in the kitchen, I’ve got food to cook so grab yourself a drink. All the neighbours are here so don’t worry about the noise. I hope you both brought your swimming gear?”
Penny turned and feigned surprise when she saw her husband stood next to her.
“You didn’t tell me Grant and Julie had a pool darling, I haven’t brought a swimsuit – oh my God, that means I’ll have to go in naked!”
She held her fingers up to her lips in a faux display of shock. It worked for everyone except her husband.
He knew she was already well on the way to being intoxicated and for Penelope Cade drunk meant an impending display of wildness and complete lack of self-control.
Cooke’s wife, an artist of growing repute had skilfully sensed an air of unease and had asked Cade to join her in the lounge, stating convincingly that she had been working on something that might interest him.
As she entered the room, she asked for his opinion on a new watercolour that she had embarked upon. She seemed the most sober of the group and therefore, perhaps unwisely, he trusted her.
They spoke for half an hour about her work and his and how her husband valued him. She laboured on the point that he wanted to help him progress through the ranks. Cade was sold and listened intently. He either deliberately or naively missed the encouraging and mounting sexual signals on display in the room.
Out in the garden the party became louder, as more and more alcohol was consumed, the men became more adventurous, the women more outrageous, pushing their own and each other’s boundaries, playing drinking games and slowly becoming less bashful. Two of the female neighbours were now in the pool and kissing one another openly.
It was now obvious that as parties went, this was far from conventional. Blue diamond-shaped pills were being handed out, an apparently welcome change from vol-au-vents and run-of-the-mill finger food.
Cade was deliberately sober and was evidently alone in this experience. People that he counted as colleagues were now starting to overstep the boundaries that both life and career had imposed, choosing different partners and gradually engaging in more and more shameful behaviour.
The combination of alcohol, tadalafil and bravado had reached a tipping point. Another ten minutes and it would be too late. He was far from a prude, but this, was just something else.
Julie Cooke thanked Cade for his advice and stood to leave but then turned and slipped her dress straps deftly from her shoulders. It slid effortlessly to the ground revealing nothing but a pair of high heeled black shoes and a provocative smile.
“Do you like what you see Jack? It’s all yours. Penny’s fine with it.”
Cade had seen enough. For him, it was career suicide and besides she wasn’t a natural blonde.
He pushed his way past her and through the house, beyond the various groups and found his wife. Her dress was hanging over the pool fence, her shoes thrown across the garden, her nude and very wet body now surrounded by three men, including his boss, all of whom were getting to know Penelope Cade rather too intimately.
He squatted down at the side of the pool and called her towards him.
She turned around, looked at her husband and laughed.
“Come on in babe, the water’s lovely.”
“Penny, get out. Now! I won’t ask again.” Cade stood up, endeavouring to add some control to the situation.
“No, Jack I want this. Come on, admit it you do too. Go and choose someone, I’m having too much fun. You can fuck me later, but not until these gorgeous men have had a turn. You can be last and by then I’ll be more than ready for you.”
She was drunk, but very capable.
Cade was incredulous, he stared at Inspector Grant Cooke, his luxuriant black mane now swept back over his head, the substantial gold chain around his neck fought for attention with his heavily matted chest hair but it was his hands that were the busiest of all, just below the waterline playing with his wife’s incredibly buoyant breasts.
“Go home Sergeant Cade, she’ll be fine, we’ll all look after her. She’s in good hands. We’ll make sure she gets home in the morning. But for now we have some games to play.”
Cade could feel adrenaline coursing through his veins, anger manifested itself as bile, boiling up into in his throat and scorching his skin and yet despite all of this he also sensed a battle lost. He was outnumbered, outgunned and alone with a group of people that were supposed to set the rules.
He knew he had to at least try, or be seen to stand his ground. If he simply walked away this pack of cackling hyenas would ensure he was cruelly swept away, brushed under the carpet and forgotten.
He felt betrayed by everyone there.
“Cooke let my wife get out now. I want to take her home before it’s too late.”
“Too late?” asked Cooke, almost mocking Cade, “The night is still young my friend, still very young and besides, it’s Sir. Don’t you ever forget that?” He looked at his staff member through pitiless conker-coloured eyes and then returned to examining his wife in great detail, taking turns with the other officers who were by now more than acquainted with her.
Penny Cade shouted to her husband to change his mind – gave him one last chance, but it was far too late; as far as he was concerned their marriage had ended there, and then.
And as far as Cade knew his career had ended that evening too.
He left Sycamore Lodge with its annoying kitchen and inferior watercolours, exited the front door, leaving it wide open behind him, hoping in vain that someone would wonder in and steal the incongruous slut’s jewellery.
He walked across the immaculate front lawn and lashed out with his right foot, expertly knocking the head off an annoying and welcoming gnome before finally arriving alongside Phil Clarke’s pride and joy.
The Ford key in his hand wasn’t like a normal ignition key in that the end of the shaft was rounded, but as it dragged along the bright red metalwork of the front wing, driver’s door and rear quarter it made an intensely satisfying sound. Small pieces of the paintwork fluttered to the road surface and blew away in the evening breeze.
Cade plipped the lock on the Focus and got in. He was about to put his seatbelt on but decided against it, instead he left the car, walked up to the Impreza, had a cursory scan up and down the street and realising that the immediate neighbourhood was probably preoccupied with his wife spun around driving his right foot into the passenger door.
The noise as it caved in was a dull thud but the damage was significant.
Cade felt better, it was an analogy, albeit a strange one, but he felt that he had kicked his marriage into touch too.
He got into the ST, turned the ignition key and drove off.
He drove unnecessarily for twenty miles at speeds well in excess of the local limit. At least the car was reliable.
His mind was whirring with minute detail of what his wife was doing with men who he trusted and respected. Eventually he pulled over into a layby, powered down the window and breathed in the cool countryside air. Try as he might he couldn’t rid his mind of the graphic imagery that haunted him.
It would be a long time before he could trust another woman, let alone a nymphomaniac redhead, and he knew he could never trust his boss again. He had to move on, both personally and professionally. That bastard would pay, somehow.
The following morning, he would be sat in front of his Divisional Commander, a man who he genuinely respected and admired and who had previously provided him with some robust career and personal advice.
Seventh (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 1) Page 24