Chapter Eight

‘I’m sorry, Jackie, but this operation’s going to soar through the roof as far as our budget’s concerned. We’ll have to curtail the surveillance. DS Wills and DC Harris are both trained in electronics. They’re perfectly capable of running the monitoring equipment in the van. And that’s costly enough as it is.’

‘Willie Wills and Chopper Harris?’ Jackie’s disbelieving tone was eloquent in its scorn. ‘Can you imagine what they’ll make of it? They’ll be setting up their own porn site! At the least they’ll have unedited highlights going out to every cop shop in the county, if not the country!’

‘I’m glad to see how much confidence you have in your own team,’ DCS Sharp said cuttingly.

Jackie had risen from her chair and was leaning forward, her knuckles resting on her superior’s impressive desk. ‘Listen, Boss,’ she substituted the informal acknowledgement of rank in place of the first name, and made a great effort to damp down her seething anger, ‘at last we’ve got the chance to nail Jack Palmer, maybe once and for all. This could be big for all of us, but especially for you.’ She saw the sudden look Moira Sharp flashed at her, as though she had been caught on the raw, and warning bells rang in her brain again. She drew a deep, restraining breath, and carefully sat down again.

Moira sensed her drawing back and pressed her advantage. Her voice, too, was more controlled, less fraught with tension. ‘You know, you’re making this Palmer business something of a crusade. We don’t want any personal vendettas being played out here.’

‘It’s not that, Boss, honestly. He’s been getting away with things recently, getting far too cocky. There’s nothing personal in it, I can assure you.’ She hesitated, deciding she had to acknowledge defeat over the matter of Harris and Wills, and in fact her mouth almost twitched in a wry smile as she thought of how horrified Jill would be at the idea of Willie Wills and Chopper parked in the anonymous white van watching every blow and suck, lick and promise, on the great white bed at 41 Gresham Street. On more than one occasion she had already had to reassure Jill about the presence of the surveillance van, portraying confidence and concern. ‘No, love, of course not,’ she’d cooed. ‘It’ll be the Regional Crime boys doing the monitoring; nothing to do with our nick. And only if we think it’s necessary. It’s just a back-up, a safety net, that’s the idea, to have someone on hand if things start to go at all pear-shaped. I’ve got to look after you. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you now, could I?’ And she reached for Jill, holding her close, eventually succeeding in allaying her fears.

Jackie tried even harder to keep her tone impersonal and emotionless. ‘Well, what about someone under cover with her? Someone else on the inside. She’s been with this Liz tart a week now, and we know that somebody’s already been checking on her. I guess she’s been brought to Palmer’s attention. It’s time Jill was producing some evidence of her own, so she needs a client or two. She’s fed the Grant tart the story about Martin Grimmond, the sugar daddy who’s her best customer, so we’ve got to produce him in the flesh now. And I hope you’re not suggesting we use someone from our nick for the role. It’ll be bad enough having Harris and Wills sat out in the van. Pound to a penny one of the useless pricks will pop out for a burger or a piss and somebody will recognise them straight away.’

Moira grunted and shook her head. She even managed a smile. She was feeling quite pleased about having won the point about the surveillance team. ‘No, nobody from our neck of the woods,’ she confirmed. ‘We’re getting a chap from Hawesgrove. He’s been working on fraud. A DS Pope; should be made up to Inspector soon. He’s been around a bit. Like us, eh? He’s in his late thirties. I’ll get him over whenever you think your girl’s ready to pull her first trick.’ She grinned. ‘It seems like quite a cosy little love nest they’ve got going, her and the ginger tom. You must have your hands full, Jackie.’

‘And a very pleasant handful she is, too,’ Jackie added, relaxing a little as the tension seemed to ease between her and her boss. ‘Besides, I know how to keep her in line if she gets a bit flighty.’

‘Let’s hope so, eh? You’re not worried she might be getting a bit carried away with all this cloak and dagger stuff? Maybe get a taste for something a bit more exotic, perhaps? Yon brazen redhead certainly seems to be lighting her fire for her at the moment. And how’s she going to play it with this Mr Grimmond fellow, the randy sugar daddy? What if the old camera’s set up to catch them at it? Have you thought of that? Would she be prepared to swing a bit and swallow the salami? All in the line of duty, of course.’

Jackie felt her irritation surfacing once more. She knew Moira was intentionally riling her for some reason. Probably just to reinforce the idea of her being the boss, a bit of a tug on the chain, just to let her know who’s in charge. Jackie had rather taken on this case as if it belonged to her, had perhaps been a little too offhand about acknowledging Moira’s titular position as captain of the ship, and this was her way of bringing Jackie into line.

‘It’ll be her first time if she does,’ she said.

Moira gaped in astonishment, and then gave vent to her disbelief in a pungent expletive.

‘Straight up,’ Jackie insisted. ‘She’s as pure as the driven snow as far as cock’s concerned.’

‘How old is she? Twenty-two, twenty-three? Still a cock virgin at that age? I definitely do not believe it. She’s having you on, Jackie, my girl.’

‘I swear she’s telling the truth, Moira, honest to God.’ She knew it was safe once more to return to a first name basis. ‘It was one of those après screw confessions. You know, when you’re lying there all sticky and sweaty and worn out, and you’ll confess to anything. She wasn’t proud about it. She was squirming about with shame at admitting it, poor little mare.’

Moira clicked her tongue in her teeth as though still in denial. ‘Jesus, if that’s true what the hell is she doing mixed up in this present caper? That redheaded dike could have her shafting five clients a night in a day or two, and twice on Sundays! She’ll blow her cover to hell the first rampant dick she sees!’

‘She’ll do exactly what I tell her,’ Jackie asserted, with a force and confidence she was actually far from feeling. ‘I’ve got her well trained. She’ll do it for me, if she has to.’

‘Come off it,’ Moira countered. ‘You’ve hardly known her for five minutes. I know you have her eating out of your hand, but even you can’t believe she’ll - ’

‘Moira, she’ll do it for me,’ Jackie cut her off, politely but firmly. ‘It’s a match made in heaven. We’re like that.’ She held up two fingers, the second crossed over the first. ‘They love a firm hand. You ought to try it with little Blondie out there. Crack the whip a little bit; she’ll love it.’

The colour heightened in Moira’s cheeks and she drew herself up, her spine stiffened. ‘We’re fine, thank you very much,’ she said indignantly. ‘I know what makes Sandra tick. Anyway, I hope your confidence is justified. There are a few people a bit uneasy about tossing your little rookie in at the deep end like this. There’s lots of sharks swimming about, and I’m even more concerned for her welfare now. We’ll have to keep a very careful eye out for her. I’ll brief Wills and Harris right away and get DS Pope over today. No, it’s OK, I’ll do it myself,’ she said, as Jackie opened her mouth to protest. ‘As you rightly pointed out, Jackie, I’m the one who’s in charge here. I’ll carry the can if it comes unstuck.’ She sat back in dismissal, and smiled brightly to disguise that edge of annoyance. ‘Right, please send Sandra in on your way out.’

Jackie’s smile was just as bright, and beneath it she was equally niggled. In a mood of devilry she leaned over the seated figure in the outer office and let her fingers very casually brush through Sandra’s soft blonde curls at her brow. ‘You look absolutely gorgeous today, Sandra, honey. But then, you always do. You’ve no idea how creamy you make an old dike like me, have you?’

The shiny red lips parted in genuine shock and the sparkling blue eyes opened wider, the cheeks highlighted with two blushes of red. Apart from a few deep looks and smiles, DI Barlow had never openly referred to the clandestine relationships decently hidden away from the office and its wanton gossip. Jackie winked and chucked her playfully under her chin. ‘Your mistress calls. Off you go. Lucky old Super. If you were my beauty I’d definitely be your beast...’

‘I’d like a word with you, WPC Wise. A word to the Wise, eh?’ Jackie smiled thinly, but it did nothing to ease the flutters of alarm raised in Andrea’s pert breast. ‘In my office, now.’

With her door safely closed Jackie moved round to sit behind her desk. She did not invite the uniformed figure to sit in the chair opposite, and Andy Wise remained standing stiffly in a military pose, feet six inches apart and sweaty hands clasped behind her back, just above the jut of her clenched buttocks. Because it was still a warm August day she was not wearing her jacket, and her bosom, well cradled in a sensibly substantial bra, strained temptingly against the pristine tautness of her white, short-sleeved shirt.

‘You keeping yourself fit these days, Wise?’ Jackie let her eyes wander slowly over the full figure with lingering enjoyment, mainly from the discomfort she could read in the girl’s stance and the expression on her pretty face. ‘You look as though you could do with losing a few pounds here and there.’

Andy felt the warm red tide sweeping up from her collar. ‘I play tennis, and swim when I can. I play hockey for Benbrough Ladies in the season. We’ll be starting training soon.’ Jackie waited, eyebrows eloquently lifted, and Andy realised what the pause was for. ‘Ma’am!’ she appended hastily, and felt her blushes increasing.

‘Maybe it’s your lack of height that makes you look a little dumpy. The uniform does nothing for a figure like yours.’

Andy said nothing. She seethed, but her ire was tempered by her nervousness. She knew that the old butch was after her for something, and it must be bad otherwise she would never have called her up directly. The rocket would have come through her own superiors across the corridor in uniform branch.

‘I’ve heard you’ve been shooting your mouth off about our covert op in Gresham Street. Been chatting up your pals Harris and Mills over here. You’re very pally with my lads, aren’t you? You’re always over here, given half a chance.’ She let the distraught girl begin a stammering excuse, then held up her hand and cut her off in mid-stream. ‘I’m not bothered about you having hot pants for CID, but I won’t have you jeopardising a sensitive operation like this one. You know we’ve got the new kid, DC Christie, in under cover. It could be very dangerous, and I’m not bullshitting, if word gets out to the wrong people. And the folk we have in line have very big ears, and fingers in all sorts of pies. I won’t have some loose-knickered little tart fucking it all up, to say nothing of dropping one of my team in some very nasty clag. Got it?’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Andy’s heart was racing now and her eyes were wide with dismay. ‘I wouldn’t... I haven’t talked out of turn, not outside the station, Ma’am, I swear it.’

Jackie shook her head. Her mouth was pursed severely. She was enjoying herself. She derived a keen sense of pleasure from the obvious distress this supposedly tough little cookie was displaying. She was feeling a whole heap better already, recovering rapidly from the black mood Moira had aroused by her coming the old high horse and pulling rank on her like that. Two could play at that game, she decided, studying the scarlet young features before her. Tears were not far away, she sensed. She eased back a little, let her demeanour relax a trifle, to one of almost maternal regret.

‘It’s a shame, Wise,’ she went on. ‘There’s a few people have had an eye on you - a very favourable eye, I might add. We were expecting big things of you. I heard you were even interested in coming across to us. Plain clothes job.’ She shook her head again, in regret rather than anger this time, and almost heard the little mew of pleading as the girl gazed at her. The dark eyes sparkled with the tears they held.

‘Oh please, Ma’am! I’m sorry; I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. I was just so keen - I mean, I am! Interested... I’d love to transfer to CID... when I’m ready, I mean. When you think...’

Her voice died away, she gazed mutely at Jackie like an errant child, and Jackie felt that dark, flowering pulse of excitement deep inside. Got you! She shook her head for a third time, more slowly this time, as one who had come to a reluctant decision. ‘No, I’m afraid I’ve got no alternative. It wouldn’t be fair on DC Christie or any of the rest of the team. I’ll be putting in a disciplinary report to CI Lomas. I just thought I ought to let you know personally, in advance. Because I’ve always thought you showed a lot of promise. I must say it makes me feel bloody disappointed, Wise, but there we are.’

Andy’s head was swimming. She still couldn’t understand it. Who the hell had dropped her in it? OK, so she’d talked about it, but it was common knowledge anyway, the Gresham Street business. And she’d only chatted with Chopper and Willie, really... and her boyfriend, Bob Tidy. She’d mentioned it to him, but only in passing. Anyway, he was one of them too, on the cars in Benbrough’s motorised section. But an official report to her superiors! It would be on her file, it would be a damn big blot; it could spoil her chances of getting promotion, of getting into CID, maybe for good!

She stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her as though in prayer. ‘Please, Ma’am, give me a chance - another chance. I swear, I’ll do anything! I’ll never breathe a word to anyone, ever again, I promise, Ma’am.’ The breasts rose and quivered deliciously as a small, stifled sob escaped. ‘Oh, Ma’am, please.’

Jackie got up, deliberately, came around the desk, and put a hand firmly on Andy’s shoulder. She felt the narrow bra strap through the material of the shirt. She thrilled to the excitement of the chase, and the heady scent of conquest. She let her fingers dig in with just an extra degree of firmness. ‘Come on, now. Don’t get yourself all upset. It’s no more than a ticking off. You can pull your socks up. Make sure you do better in future.’ She let the hand fall away, but stayed close to the distressed girl. She saw the tears fall, tremble on those dark, curly lashes.

‘But it’ll be on my record, Ma’am. Official, like. It’ll stay there. I’m begging you, Ma’am. I mean it. I’d do anything if you’ll just give me this one chance to... to redeem myself.’ Even as the words poured from her tiny alarm bells began to sound in Andy’s swirling brain, and were confirmed only seconds later as that firm hand came up again and cradled her neck, where it showed above the open collar of the shirt. It felt warm and dry, and dangerously intimate. The pad of the thumb moved up on Andy’s cheek and smudged away the tear which lay there.

‘You’ll get me shot, you will.’ Jackie’s words came out as a low rumble. Andy felt them almost like a physical sensation, passing up into the pit of her stomach. The hand at her neck was burning hot now. ‘We could keep this entirely private, Andy. Just between us girls. I’d be sticking my neck out.’

There was a longer pause and Andy felt her whole frame shaking. She was sure her agitation would be transmitted to the hand that was still clasped at her neck, and which felt like some kind of retraining collar holding her prisoner.

The car pulled up outside Jackie’s flat and PC Wise stared up at the respectable façades of the tall Victorian houses. She felt sick and hollow inside, her limbs so unsteady that she wondered if they would support her when she got out of the car. ‘I’m not gay, Ma’am.’ Andy whispered the words again, dully, and winced at the dismissive laugh which greeted them.

The sunlit living room looked so cosily prosaic it served only to add to the unreal feeling which had gripped Andy ever since she’d first agreed to be part of this mad adventure. All at once she found herself deeply regretting the choice she had made, to place herself so entirely in Barlow’s hands. She tried once more, trying not to let her voice break down completely. ‘I told you, Ma’am. I’m straight, right? I’ve never... I couldn’t be any other way. Not ever.’

‘Have you ever tried?’

The black hair shook in violent negation. ‘I just... couldn’t. I’m sorry, Ma’am, if you thought otherwise. You couldn’t be more wrong.’

‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much! Shakespeare, Wise. Know what it means?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘It means you’re making far too much of a song and dance about it, sweety. You’re here to be punished, not to be given the thrill of your little lifetime. See that chair? Bend over it and show me that fat arse of yours. Pronto!’

Andy’s mouth fell open, her brown eyes popped.

‘Don’t stand there gaping, sugar. Bend over and bare your backside. Right now!’

The last words were roared like a sergeant major on a parade ground and Andy flinched visibly. Whimpering softly she moved slowly towards the high back of the armchair, and still with an almost somnambulant motion, she bent forward until she could feel the back resting in her midriff, and her raised rump straining tightly against the restriction of the dark skirt.

‘You won’t feel a thing through that bloody skirt. Hitch it up, girl. Hurry up.’

Andy felt even more dreamlike as she reached back and, with some difficulty, struggled to drag the thick material up off her bottom. With a growl of impatience Jackie seized the back of the hem. With a wrench that threatened disaster to the side fastening, she hauled up the garment at the back to expose a fetching pair of legs, clad in black nylons up to mid-thigh, where the pale flesh emerged, before the taut confines of a pair of high-waist black cotton briefs appeared stretched over the full cheeks of the buttocks.

Jackie stared with deep pleasure and gave a throaty chuckle. ‘Hold-ups, eh? Much better than tights in this warm weather. Saves a lot of bother, I expect, especially when you’re dropping ‘em for Chopper Harris and the rest of the lads.’

The voice which answered was muffled as it came from the depths of the cushions, and was further distorted by the sobs which caught in Andy’s throat. ‘I duh - don’t, Ma’am.’

‘Huh? You’ve got some taste then. But I want bare cheeks, my lovely. I want you to feel this reprimand and remember it every time you sit down, at least for a few days.’ As she spoke she very lightly plucked at the elastic of the briefs as it stretched across the bare lower back, and flipped it down until the pale cheeks showed fully in all their splendour. They quivered, then dimpled as Andy clenched in involuntary anticipation of the ordeal to follow. ‘Keep still.’

Andy heard her leave the room, and hung there, sniffling, trying to muffle her weeping and acutely aware of the cool of the air on her bare bottom, and the elastic of her knickers stretched humiliatingly across the lower fold of her cheeks. But she had little time to dwell on the indignity of her situation, for Jackie was back within seconds.

It wasn’t until later that Andy discovered what the instrument of chastisement was, when she saw the long-handled hairbrush the aggressor had wielded. The first she knew was a startlingly loud crack and a fierce leap of flame across the resilient flesh, and her head jerked up as she let out a startled, agonised yelp. The dark, tousled head was thrust forcibly down again by Jackie’s hand fastened firmly round the back of the neck. ‘Keep the noise down, sunshine, or we’ll have the neighbours coming round to complain, and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?’ She thrust what later proved to be a tea towel at the prostrate figure. ‘Bite on that if you can’t keep quiet. Anyone would think you’d never had your arse tanned before!’

And she certainly hadn’t - not like this! The blows came fast and with unfailing vigour, until the sobbing girl was sure her behind must be ablaze. She howled and blubbered blindly into the wet towel, and twisted violently to escape the fiery torment. She was strongly assisted in keeping to her subservient posture by the grip of Jackie’s left hand at the base of her neck, holding her down so hard that the edge of the chair prodded painfully into her stomach. She tried to plead for the punishment to cease, to beg for mercy, but her words dissolved into a formless cry, her blind face soaked with her tears and saliva, her world a red fog of scorching agony.

Slowly she became aware that the pain was a steady burn, that the terrible splats and cracks of the devastating blows had ceased, and her shoulders heaved with the torrent of her desolate sobs. She hung there for long seconds while Jackie stood, recovering her breath and deeply aware of the wet patch pressed against her crotch, and the still powerful beat of her desire. She stared with both satisfaction and further longing at the vivid red imprints, already swelling at their edges on the pale rounds.

Andy groaned and hissed with renewed pain when Jackie finally hauled her upright. Her bottom was afire, and she stood shivering, her knickers falling about her knees as she stood there, the narrow band of the skirt still bunched about her hips at the front and in the small of her back at the rear. Subconsciously she held the skirt up, adding to the degradation of her stance, in order to prevent the thick material making contact with her throbbing behind. She moved stiffly, like an old arthritic woman, bent forward from the hips as Jackie led her to the bathroom, and the knickers descended further, fell about her ankles and threatened even her limited motion until Jackie stooped and, at her command, Andy lifted her feet while Jackie slipped the knickers free.

The blisters were coming up in hard ridges and Andy gasped, holding her skirt bunched about her waist, oblivious to the exposure she was making of her lower portions, even the darkly fleeced pubic mound, while Jackie applied a blessedly cold wet flannel to the abused flesh, and then finally soothed the whole area with cold cream. Jackie was kneeling in front of Andy, breathing in the entrancing scent of her muskiness. ‘Now then,’ she crooned, gazing up at the pain-ravaged features. ‘Remember what we said about trying before knocking?’

Her fingers were still greasy with the cream as they slid up over a pale, trembling thigh, above the black stocking, and moved in on the narrow fold of the sex lips under the luxuriant black curls. Insidiously, teasingly, the fingers eased their way in through the tightness of the fissure, felt the already lubricated inner surfaces of the labia, and Andy’s dark head hung forlornly, she whimpered at the pain when her buttocks automatically clenched once more, but this time in response to an entirely novel and very different sensation.

Two of the fingers fanned out, to open and expose the uppermost area of the vulva, the tiny hidden bud of the clitoris in its gleaming refuge, rubbed and caressed until the belly and hips thrust forward and Andy let out a cry at the new fires that were being stoked. The fingers moved again, and slid easily into the narrow entrance of the vagina, thrust into the sheath, whose spasming walls seemed to embrace them in welcome.

Jackie moved her warm face closer until she could feel the smooth inner thigh rest against her cheek, and the pubic curls tickled her nose and her lips as she bestowed a kiss on the cushioning flesh beneath them. Rapturously she inhaled the deep, musky scent of her victim’s arousal. She let her face press closer, until it pushed against the mound and the swell of the belly. ‘I love a nice curvy tummy,’ she whispered, her breath spreading its warmth, and Andy shuddered. Jackie was nibbling and lapping now, at the sex mound and at the sturdy thighs and the crease of belly, and Andy continued to shiver, her hips grinding against the busy face in instinctive reaction to the kisses.

Jackie came upright while keeping her fingers hooked in Andy’s vagina, until the helpless girl was leaning heavily against her as though she could not stand unaided. ‘Here, have a taste of yourself,’ she urged, slowly kissing Andy and rejoicing at the thrill of those soft lips which pressed ripely against hers, parted, yielding and accepting the penetration of the tongue, until both slithering organs writhed and twisted over one another in a ferocity of passion. When Jackie finally ended the kiss Andy clung, sagging in her grip. Jackie’s left hand was holding her by the back of her glossy black hair, pinning that helpless face against her own. ‘I think we’d better get you out of this gear, don’t you? You said you wanted to get out of uniform, didn’t you? Well, guess what? You’re gonna make it, baby, sooner than you thought.’ She gave a lecherous laugh, which seemed to pass through her entire frame, then with a grunt of effort scooped up the dishevelled, semi-naked figure in her arms. ‘So you’re not gay, eh?’ she mocked. ‘You could have fooled me!’