Trodds Lane

by Nick Roteman

Wayne stood in front of Orla and put on his best smile.

  “Hi ladies, would you fancy joining three lonely guys. We’ve got a nicer table, and the drinks are free?”

  They did.

  “So I’m Wayne, this is Jerry, and that handsome man is Danny.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Orla replied keeping her eyes focused on Wayne.

  “My friend Lizzie and I’m Orla.”

  “What brings you here to our pub?” Jerry asked eying up Orla.

  “Yeah we’ve definitely not seen you two before!” Danny agreed.

  “We’ve both just moved into the area, and we’re looking for a good pub to call our local.” Lizzie answered, keeping to their agreed script.

  Danny smiled at Lizzie. “You’ve just found it, I hope.”

  Lizzie returned his smile.

  It was Orla’s turn to flirt with Wayne. “What sort of work do you do, you look very fit and muscular, is that to do with your job?”

  Wayne nodded. “Yeah I do club security, among other things. How about you, you look like a model?”

  She laughed back. “Oh what a corny line, honestly!”

  “No it’s true you’re gorgeous, so what is it?”

  “Yes, come on what do you do?” Danny joining in added, while Jerry sat back he already knew he had no chance against Wayne and Danny.

  Orla leant forward and rested her elbows on the table. “We’re police women!” she coolly said.

  There was a stunned silence before Orla rocked back in her chair and let out a short laugh, followed by Lizzie.

  “That got you guys, didn’t it!” Lizzie giggled.

  “No seriously,” Orla butted in. “We’re both in advertising, work on the production side.”

  Wayne’s face softened as he relaxed and Jerry also smiling again clapped him on his broad shoulders.

  “What would you both like to drink?” Danny asked getting up.

  “Pint of real ale, your choice!”

  “Yup me too,” Lizzie chimed in.

  “Phew!” whistled Wayne. “Blimey, not only gorgeous but beer drinkers too, Jesus I’m in love!”

  Orla looked straight at him, their eyes met. “With which one of us?” she teased.

  The laughter and drinks flowed, and true to Wayne’s word, the girl’s drank for free.

  By 11pm it was obvious that Wayne wanted to break up the party and leave with Orla, Thinking fast Lizzie persuaded the other two to stay and have one more drink with her.

  Once outside Wayne couldn’t wait to put his arm around her.

  “Do you fancy a nightcap at my place, nice and peaceful, some good sounds?” He suggested hopefully.

  It seemed his luck was in. “Yes it’s far too early to go home, and I don’t feel like clubbing tonight. Yeah why not, thanks.” She answered smiling sweetly up at him.

  They touched lips briefly and arm in arm he led the way to his house, a ten minute walk away.

  She was pleasantly surprised as she stepped inside Wayne’s house. She had been expecting a typically sparse man house, with the living room dominated by an oversized Plasma TV facing a worn sofa, and the carpeted floor covered in old newspapers, take away boxes, and beer cans. Instead the Edwardian semi had been tastefully restored and was clean and inviting.

  They cuddled up on the rich leather sofa and drank a fine burgundy together.

  Wayne deciding the moment was right leant across and went to kiss her. She instantly responded to his warm lips and probing tongue and they embraced with a growing urgency.

  She pushed him gently away from her. He looked at her a slight frown growing on his rugged face.

  “I need to pee.” She whispered the hint of a modest grin playing on her face.

  “Oh, oh yeah, second on the right.”

  There was a mischievous twinkle in her big brown eyes as she uncurled her long body and stood up in front of him. “Pour us another drink, I’ll be right back, don’t forget where we were!”

  He stretched and sank back into the luxurious sofa and relaxed. He just could not believe his luck, he had always dreamed of finding a classy woman knowing there was little chance, and here he was with one, and in his house, it was too much.

  She returned a few minutes later and as she approached him she whispered, “Have you refilled our glasses, I’m really thirsty?”

  As he leant forward to reach the bottle, she walked behind the sofa. Unseen to him she carried a short length of wire fixed between two small wooden handles. With one deft movement, it was around his neck in an attempt to garrotte him.

  He kicked and thrashed frantically clawing at his neck, as she fiercely held on. The air in his lungs was all but exhausted, he was passing out, when the living room door opened and Jerry poked his head around it.

  “Hey what you still doing...” He stopped in midsentence stunned at what he saw. With lightening reflexes, he went for Orla, but she was ahead of him and hit him hard in the stomach. His body arched from the powerful punch forcing his head to drop and with a swift karate chopped to the back of his neck she finished him off. He fell forwards and she was over him and out the front door.

  Wayne lay there on the sofa coughing and spluttering, while Jerry lay prone on his highly polished wooden floor.

  Out in the street she ran blindly down it, around the corner and on, until finally out of breath she was forced to stop. It had never gone wrong before, what was she going to do now? Having got her second wind she managed to run home unseen and slamming the front door behind her went straight into the kitchen. Over a strong mug of tea she carefully thought through her options. There weren’t many to be honest, the safest she reckoned was to tough it out. Go to work tomorrow as usual and hope for the best, neither of them knew where she lived, and if they tried to threaten her in the street, she had a whole force behind her.

  She hated men, especially those who thought because they were men they had a god given right to take whatever they wanted. Her hatred stemmed from her childhood. At the tender age of fourteen she had been raped by a family friend. She had kept it bottled up inside and never told a soul until two years later when she had bumped into that man again, and this time she had played him before mercilessly murdering him. That feeling of empowerment had stayed with her and from that date onwards, she punished anyone whom she felt deserved it, revelling in that feeling of being judge and jury. Justice not the law must be seen to be done.

  She marvelled at Auburn and how she battled constantly with the police, in an effort to have Tomas Phipps arrested as the killer or instigator of so many recent deaths. She was in love with her, even though she would never admit it, nevertheless she would be there in the background to protect her.

  Suddenly the tiredness hit her, and exhausted with all her adrenalin spent, she fell into her bedroom. With pleasant thoughts of Auburn filling her mind, she fell asleep.

  Simpson popped his head into the mortuary and asked the attendant if he had seen Dr Bell, he nodded and said he was outside the back door having a smoke.

  “Hello Peter, room for another!” Simpson joked, as he joined his friend.

  Peter smiled at him and offered him a cigarette.

  “So what brings you down to my little place Paul?”

  “Just wondered if you had anything yet to link that Phipps bastard to Rachel Miller or Natalie whatshername? Don’t half need an arrest, the Gov is on my back to wrap this all up!”

  “Ahh!” Bell exclaimed taking a last drag of his cigarette and throwing the butt on the ground. “You haven’t been talking to your delicious Sergeant, have you?”

  “About what Peter?”

  “Well the bad news is we haven’t been able to link Tomas Phipps to Rachel or Natalie...”

  “Tell me something I don’t know thanks!” he warned.


  “Allow me to tell you Paul, that Darren Painter is another story old bean.”

  “Alright you have me salivating! Simpson exclaimed.

  “Can another cigarette tempt you, you old bugger?”

  Dr Peter Bell took an inordinate time to take another cigarette off Simpson, light it, and take two puffs before continuing with his news.

  “Right Paul, you’ll have to look in the file for the exact details, but they have linked Darren Painter to Natalie Lamont, seems he was in her house the night she died!” he grinned at Simpson. “Well where’s the applause, the pat on my back for my staff’s great work?”

  “Kick up the bloody jacksie more likely. Darren’ s dead, how can that help me get Tomas Phipps?” Simpson growled back.

  “I’m not a detective old bean!”

  Simpson retreated to his small office he shared with his Sergeant; she was at her desk working on her computer.

  “I gather you’ve got something to tell me?” He said even before he had fully entered the room.

  Ash glanced up. “Yes I have!”

  “So why didn’t you come find me Sergeant?”

  “Honest answer, I didn’t know what pub you were in, perhaps if you kept your phone on Gov.”

  Simpson took off his jacket and threw it onto his desk.

  “Yeah ok you win, so I gather the late Darren likes his fires. What use is that to us, it doesn’t tie Tomas in with the murder.” He warned her as he plopped down onto his chair.

  “Yes Gov but it shows a connection, this Tomas Phipps is involved with all the unexplained deaths we’ve recently had, I know it.”

  “You know it, I know it Ash, what next because I’ve bloody had it!”

  “Well I would like to go see Tomas Phipps again. According to the tax office he has no visible means of support; he has got to be living off Mrs Chandler.”

  “Sadly that’s not a crime.” Simpson commented.

  “No Gov but if we were to shake up the rest of his mates I’m sure something might fall out, if you get my meaning?”

  Simpson grinned and nodded back. “Yes I bloody do. Come on let’s see if we can find Mr Phipps and wind him up a bit, then we’ll tackle the others!” He added suddenly galvanised and grabbing for his jacket.

  They eventually caught up with Tom back at his flat, but after a wasteful hour with him gave up and left.

  On the way to interview Wayne Dicks next, Simpson who had been exceptionally quiet suddenly spoke up. “I want a search warrant for Tomas Phipps’ flat, he’s just too bloody cocky. We need to find out what he does for a living I’m sure it will make interesting reading.”

  “Yes but on what grounds Gov?”

  “Don’t care, you’ll think of something, try Judge de Malberg first, he’s one of the good guys, done him a few favours he owes me one.”

  “If you say so.” She replied less enthusiastically.

  “I do, in fact you just drive, I’ll do the ringing.”

  Simpson called de Malberg and as luck would have it he was in his chambers.

  After ten minutes banter, Simpson obtained his search warrant, and pleased as punch, ordered a change of direction back to the station instead of to Wayne Dicks’.

  “Pick up the warrant first thing tomorrow and we’ll go straight onto Phipps’.

  I want at least four men with us, we’re going to turn his place over, and I want him to know we are! I’ll show him who’s boss.”

  “What about Wayne Dicks Gov?”

  “He’ll wait, Tomas Phipps first.”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Tomorrow was Auburn’s special evening, when she finally got her date with Oli Gregson. He had deliberately chosen a Friday so as not to have to rush home early. Auburn on the other hand had wanted it to be the evening of the day he had first mentioned dinner, not Friday, but after some pouting followed by an awkward silence she had agreed to the day.

  Today she needed a new dress, and suddenly realised how much she missed Rachel. The only person she could ask to come shopping with her was Moira, and being the sweetie she was readily agreed.

  Auburn tried on outfit upon outfit at several of the town’s fashionable stores, but nothing was just right and many salespeople were left exhausted and without a sale that day.

  “One last shop!” Auburn promised as she dragged Moira inside.

  And it was the last shop for them, for there on a dummy was the dress she was searching for. It was a soft woollen dress finishing just above the knee, with a ribbed scoop neck in a deep red colour.

  They had her size and Moira helped her to put it on. It fitted like a glove, accentuating her fine body.

  “Well, will it do the trick Moira, will he like it?” She eagerly asked her, willing her to agree.

  “Oh yes my dear he certainly will, you look absolutely scrumptious; and what will you wear with it?”

  “My best white cotton knickers I think.” She answered proudly.

  Moira couldn’t help sniggering. “No my dear I meant on your feet, but I am pleased you will be wearing your best knickers; you never know!” she added allowing herself a sly little grin.

  “I have a fab pair of long black buckle boots. They look great on me you know!”

  Suddenly Moira frowned and whispered to Auburn. “Will you be able to put the dress and boots on yourself?”

  “Oh yes not too complicated, and no damned buttons, but I will make sure Freddy is on hand just in case!”

  Auburn longed for the day when she could drive on her own, but her test date was still two months away, so Oli had first to take a taxi to her house.

  “I’m driving us, and I have booked the restaurant.” She announced almost the moment he stepped inside the door. He had wanted to book a restaurant of his choice, but wisely gave way to her when they had first discussed the options.

  They set off in the general direction of Poole to the west of the town but after climbing West Cliff, she turned the car into the entrance of the Marriott Hotel and parked.

  Taking his hand she led him to the Highcliff Grill. The restaurant had a wonderful panoramic view of the sea, and she had booked a table right by the windows so they could look out. The speciality of the Grill was its seafood and they dined on a wonderful meal, and shared a bottle of fine Australian white.

  The mood was magical, and Oli was bowled over by her wonderful sense of fun. He already knew how intelligent she was, but never realised how funny she could also be, especially in taking the micky out of herself. She wasn’t really being deliberately funny when speaking about herself, but had long since realised that just telling stories had other people laughing, so she continued.

  He also tried to praise her computer skills, and how she had saved the library so much time, but she only replied. “You do what you are!”

  On the drive back he suggested they stop near the pier and take a late stroll. Auburn readily agreed to a walk, but only if they avoided going on the pier.

  Moreover, as they walked hand in hand along the sandy beach away from the pier, he reflected on her simple but succinct reply of earlier. She was a mass of contradictions yet possessed such a childlike innocence that it was impossible not to fall for her. He suddenly realised what he had just thought, he was indeed falling for her.

  They arrived back at the car and stood awkwardly by it.

  He took a deep breath feeling like a teenager again. “Why don’t you come back to my place, we can have coffee and relax there?” He suggested.

  Auburn looked puzzled. “But if I drop you home, I can’t drive home...”

  “Exactly,” he whispered back, opening the passenger door and climbing in.

  She got in and turned her head to look at him, but quickly averted her gaze to study the centre console instead.

  “Do y
ou want me to stay over, is that what you are saying Oli?”

  She could barely hear the simple one word reply, “Yes.”

  The question tumbled out before she could stop herself. “Do you want to have sex with me, is that it?” she asked as plainly as possible.

  It was his turn to stare ahead out through the windscreen. “Probably,” he mumbled. “Could we go now, please?”

  “Oh I think so!” she giggled, starting the engine and throwing it into gear with a loud crunching sound.

  Oli had intended to have a leisurely coffee with perhaps a brandy to set the scene and see how the night then progressed. Auburn had other ideas, and no sooner were they inside his house when she grabbed his hand and all but dragged him upstairs and into his bedroom.

  She stood there in front of him. “Undress me Oliver Gregson!” she demanded.

  He hesitated but encouraged by her, he nervously helped her off with her dress. She faced him in her sexiest of underwear, and still wearing her boots.

  “Boots I think first,” she said.

  “Leave your boots on.” He whispered back.

  When she was completely unclothed save for her long boots, she undressed him. Stark-naked they stared at one another, the excitement clearly rising in both. Suddenly unable to control himself any longer, he grabbed her body and pushed her onto the bed, before falling on top of her.

  She was desperate, her sexual desire being unfulfilled for such a long time, she dispensed with all inhibitions within her in her drive to orgasm and beyond.

  Lust overtook him and mild mannered Oliver Gregson became The Stud.

  Their intense lovemaking lasted a full hour, by which time his ardour had wilted, and she was tender. He rolled onto his right side next to her, dripping with sweat but with a big grin filling his face. She too was hot her face glowing.

  He glanced across at her. “How was that?” he whispered. “I’m spent, good night darling Auburn.”

  “Thank you, finally I’m fully satisfied,” she calmly replied turning onto her left side facing him. With a sudden effort on her part and a couple of strong kicks, she had pushed him off the bed onto the floor. Caught off guard he lay there legs akimbo, his face turned from ecstasy to a look of pure shock.