Switching Sides 4/5

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Chapter 4
On The Team

I was up early, I wanted to make sure that my disguise was flawless. If this was going to work, I not only had to make myself look convincing as a woman, but had to adjust my mindset so that I believed myself to be a woman in order to fit in with the others. I took extra care with my hair and makeup, because Megan had advised me not to look like I had just stepped out of a beauty parlour. She had told me that most of the woman at work had busy lives juggling their job with their personal lives and just did the bare minimum to make themselves presentable. As Megan had suggested, rather than wearing slacks like most of the working women, I put on a plain navy skirt and white cotton top, I wanted to leave no doubt that I was a woman to cover over any slight mistakes I might make in my actions or mannerisms.

Going into the police headquarters I was particularly wary and nervous, as I was starting a new job and living a new lifestyle. It didn’t help that on previous occasions when I had been there I was usually in custody for questioning about one crime or another. As we passed through the main entrance door past the security desk I had shivers down my spine, but took a deep breath straightened up and confidently followed Megan into her office. After a few minutes where it looked like she was giving me a quick induction lecture, which I had already received back at the house, we went out to face the team.

“Good morning folks let’s get you all briefed and up to date. I know that this is a new squad but most of you already know each other and have worked together in the past. Alongside me is Rhiannon Davies, who happens to be my cousin, but that is irrelevant. She is here as she is the initial contact with Andrew Carmichael, the informant who has provided all the information in the briefing notes which she has prepared for you and will update as more details become available. She is the only one Carmichael will talk to or meet, he does not feel that he can trust us to protect his whereabouts or identity. She had no previous contact with or knowledge of Carmichael, but by chance came across him one night when he was drunk and he poured out all his troubles to her about how he was looking for a way out without getting executed by his former gang. I stress that because of the sensitive nature of this investigation and potential danger to the informant that Rhiannon is the only contact with him. If your investigations raise questions for him, pass them to her to get responses.

As Megan had warned me, there were a few half-hearted attempts by the men in the squad to chat me up, get me to make tea or go and get sandwiches. I dealt with that by just looking at them, raising an eyebrow, and sweetly replying, “Really, that’s not what I’m here for, I’ve got work to get on with, but if you are going to get something for yourself can you get me something as well?”

At the end of the day I was glad to get home, kick off my heels and change into leggings and a sloppy jumper. The days before I started work I had prepared lots of soup, stews, bolognese sauce, lasagne, and chilli con carne in single-portion trays to save having to cook after a tiring day at the station, so we were able to get in and relax without the bother of having to make something.

“How are you getting on with the lads in the office Rhiannon? Are they as bad as the picture I painted for you?”

“I’m ashamed to say that they are, possibly even worse, it’s a bit of a boys’ club with all the banter and stupid childish nicknames. Some of the guys are OK, but a few are patronising sexist pigs: there was a lot of staring at me, eyeing me up and a couple of inappropriate and unnecessary touching of my arm or a hand across my shoulder. I know that I haven’t lived a blameless life, but I hope that I was never as bad as that. Today has really opened my eyes to the subtle patronising put-downs that women have to put up with, in the office I’ll stick with you and Amanda.” referring to one of the junior detectives recently drafted in from uniform.

The first few days there was not a lot of progress, I expanded the briefing notes with more details ‘provided by Andrew’ and settled into working with the team. Other than Megan, Amanda, and me it was very much a boys’ club, with laddish jokes and going down to the pub at the end of the shift, but the three of us girls tended to stick together, soon being referred to as ‘The Coven.’ Amanda was very much guarded when talking with Megan, in respect of her rank, but was much more open and friendly with me and we backed each other up when the guys’ behaviour got a bit over the top.

After a week while we were still trying to collect evidence, to back up ‘Andrew’s’ statement, Chief Superintendent Harrison, Megan’s immediate boss, who had been the one to approve this investigation, came to see her.

“DCI Jones, you came to me with a big story about how you were going to smash a drug cartel, from what I see there has been little progress, Can we trust your informant and believe that he is not playing games with us?”

“I have no qualms on that score Sir, we know a lot of the events that we have been told about actually occurred and the informant has given us names of the people involved. We are trying to collect evidence, and are awaiting DNA results on some of the incidents.”

“Well I am worried that we are not making progress, can we get Carmichael to come in for a formal interview and put a bit more pressure on him?”

“With respect Sir, he is fearful for his life and if we try to bring him in, he will do a runner and we will lose whatever chance we have of a successful outcome. He is seriously worried that there are people in the station, hopefully not including any of my team, who are on the payroll of the drugs gang, or somehow under their influence, and his safety would be greatly at risk.”

“Ok, but on your head be it, however if there is no progress soon and this turns into a disaster you can kiss goodbye to any chance of promotion for a long time.”

Later that day all of a sudden we had a lucky break. Harry, one of the gang’s enforcer thugs who I knew quite well, was pulled in for beating someone up in a drunken street fight including attacking the police officer who went to arrest him and was required to give a DNA sample. It turned out to be a match for some found on Spider Abbott, a street dealer that they had beaten to death some years before which I had witnessed. Whilst I had named him in my briefing notes, at last we had some evidence to link him to the murder.

I wasn’t allowed in for the interview conducted by Megan and one of the team sergeants, but I watched the CCTV feed in the adjacent monitoring room, remembering the many times I had been sitting whereTate now was, accompanied by a solicitor who I knew carried out a lot of work for Joe Chapman to ensure that he appeared to keep just the right side of the law.

“Harry Tate, we have a witness who is prepared to testify that you beat to death James Abbott, known to you as Spider, and we now also have DNA evidence matching you to skin found under the fingernails of Mr Abbott at the time of his murder. Would you like to tell us more?”

He looked at his lawyer who shook his head. Harry then just sat there mostly in silence, refusing to answer questions, merely responding ‘no comment’ with a smug smirk on his face. Looking at things from the police side of the table, I could understand why, in the old days before CCTV and recorded interviews, the police became frustrated and many suspects in for questioning later appeared to have fallen down the stairs or had bumped into doors. Unfortunately such actions were no longer allowed and any confessions under duress or as a result of violence were no longer admissible as evidence.

“You need to know that we are interviewing your associate Fred Lyle, and he is singing like a canary.” Megan lied to see what reaction it would get. “He is swearing that although he was present at the scene, his involvement was merely to be there as a backup to you and you carried out the beatings. This has been confirmed in a statement from our witness, so it looks like almost all the blame is going to be on you, you will be sent down for a long time, and then we will see how you get on with the other thugs in the prison.”

“Who’s your bloody witness, that Carmichael kid? He was the only other one around at the time. When he is found he’s dead meat, it looks like he never learned his lesson when Fred and me torched his family home.” He was losing control and raging, with the solicitor unable to keep control of what he was saying.

“Now you mention it, we also found some DNA from you and Lyle on the bottle you dropped on the ground after you poured the petrol though the Carmichaels’ letterbox. You will be lucky if you see the outside of a prison ever again. Harry Tate, you are charged with five counts of murder, Spider Abbott, and the Carmichael family, we remind you that anything you say will be recorded and may be used in evidence against you, you had the formal caution prior to the start of the interview. You will be held in a police cell until you appear before a magistrate in the morning, and will be remanded to prison until your trial, which will be some months away as this is part of a larger investigation which will all probably be tried in court together.”

When his associate Fred Lyle was informed that Tate had admitted killing the Carmichael family while he was there as backup, he totally broke down, he was always going to be the weaker link of the two. Lots of names, dates, details of deliveries and payments were soon on the desks of the investigating team who were trawling through CCTV images and phone records to try to confirm what they had been told. All of it backed up my evidence in the briefing notes but the case was now much stronger.

With us all now feeling a lot more positive the team went for a drink after work, and for the first time the girls and I were invited too. Although the lads were a bit raucous they were happy to include us, I had provided the initial information, Megan had broken Harry Tate and Fred Lyle, Amanda had come up trumps with some of the phone call and text records linking Joe Chapman to his two thugs.

After a few drinks some of the lads were getting a bit touchy-feely, nothing too intimate, just putting their arms around our shoulders and being a bit over-friendly. Not wanting to sour the mood of the of the celebrations by the lads on the team, the three of us made a diplomatic exit, the last thing any of us wanted was for it to go too far, leading to allegations of harassment.

“Are you off then girls, going home for your beauty sleep, not that any of you need it.” was one of the friendlier comments shouted at us as we left.”

As we had all been drinking we called a cab, dropped Amanda off at her home, saw her safely inside, and arrived back at Megan’s.

I was happy to get in, and kick off my shoes, glad that Megan had told me to wear a comfortable low-heeled pair, then quickly changed out of my office clothes into a comforting loungewear set and sat down with Megan to unwind after a challenging but successful day.

“That was a good result, the lads are a lot more confident now in the information you are feeding through, and have accepted you as a useful member of the team. They tolerate me as the senior officer, overcoming their laddish distrust and lack of respect for women, but you and Amanda have earned their respect on your own merits for the contribution you have made to the case.

It is always easier to get to grips with and break the lower levels in gangs, like Harry and Fred, most of them are not the brightest examples of humanity and think with their fists not their head. The harder job is still ahead of us. Although we have lots of information on Joe Chapman from you and from his thugs, there is still no hard evidence directly linking him to any crimes, he is too smart and never gets his hands dirty himself. If we can somehow get him, it will be a lot easier to uncover those further up the tree.”

“I grew up around Joe, I know him really well, where he goes and what interests him, use me as bait, I can get inside his circle of acquaintances and maybe find out more.”

“I can’t let you do that Rhiannon, I can’t put one of my officers, particularly a female officer, in danger.”

“I’m not one of your officers, nor am I female don’t forget. I am just an ordinary member of the public helping with your inquiries and I am not subject to all your health and safety restrictions or rules of engagement. I have a lot of making up to do to the local community for my actions over the years, and if I have to take a few risks to take down that piece of scum for what he did to my family, that is my decision.”

Megan tried to talk me out of it, but I was determined to go ahead, wheedle my way into his company and get him to talk. Finally we agreed a plan for me to try to get close to him and get information from him.

A few days later, after she considered the options, I was back at the cosmetic surgery clinic. Megan was determined that if I was to go-ahead I needed to be as convincing as possible, leaving no room for any chance of discovery. When I woke up a couple of hours later, I felt a bit of discomfort in my groin, which was not surprising as the doctors had totally rearranged the area, and has fixed me up so that without too much of an investigation I appeared female between my legs, everything had been pushed away inside me and stitched together to form a normal looking vulva, leaving only an opening for me to wee. Without major surgery, along with the all-but-real breasts I already had, I was as near to being a woman as physically possible. They added some little extras too, inserting a small tracking device under the skin of my armpit so that Megan always knew where I was, and a long-life microphone so she could listen in. I was also given a new set of id documents in the name of Charlotte Rees, driving licence, credit and bank cards and even a pack of prescription birth control pills with my new name on.

Joe Chapman was a gambler and often frequented The Dolce Vita, an illegal and discreet casino and cabaret club in town. A watch was kept on the club to confirm when Joe had arrived and I took a deep breath preparing myself to try to get him into a honey-trap. Dressed in a short revealing cocktail dress, sitting just above the knee but with slits up the sides of my thighs, my breasts trying to escape from the revealing neckline assisted by a push-up bra, I opened my coat so that it was obvious how I was dressed and went through the door into the club,

“Excuse me Miss, this is a private club, are you a member,?” asked the bouncer, barring my way, eyeing me up and down.

“That’s a shame,” I purred, “My friend Annabel has told me so much about the club and that I would be more than welcome. You must be Dave, she told me that you are usually quite willing to bend the rules for a pretty girl.”

He smiled at me, standing aside “You go on in Miss, treat this as a trial visit, but if you want to come again you will have to become a member or accompany a member.”

I had expected the club to be a bit seedy, but it was far from it, it was well decorated, with fancy lighting and subdued background music, the men were all in business suits and the women dressed to the nines. The main area was a large open space with a roulette table, craps table and several stands for poker players, a well stocked bar along the wall by the entrance, and a stage and dance floor at the far end.

Joe Chapman was at one of the poker tables, but after getting a Mojito from the bar I went over to the craps table instead, sitting where I could keep an eye on him and what’s more, where he couldn’t fail to notice me. It looked like beginners luck when I made quite a profit with the dice before moving over to the roulette wheel. In my youth I had been invited along to poker games at the club with Joe and some of his acquaintances getting quite adept at determining the odds and covering my bets for all of the gaming tables.

Leaning over the roulette table to place my bets, I made sure that Joe had a good view of my breasts, almost falling out of my dress, knowing his taste for flighty big-breasted women it would only be a matter of time before I caught his attention and interest.

Eventually I moved again to stand next to the dealer at the poker table, apparently watching the way the cards were running before deciding to join the game. It wasn’t long before Joe had a word with the person next to him, who I vaguely recognised as one of his suppliers that I had made a delivery to a few times whose name I couldn’t remember, who immediately left his seat.

“Do you want to play darling,” Joe called over at me, “or are you just here to watch?”

I walked around the table and slid onto the seat next to him, putting my chips and my clutch onto the table in front of me.

After a few games, I was doing quite well, my winnings so far would pay for all my expenses in getting ready for tonight, but that was not my main aim, I was using the time to get more friendly with Joe.

“I know this is a corny line, but I’ve not seen you here before, although you obviously know your way around the gaming tables. I’m Joe, Joe Chapman.”

“Nice to meet you Joe, Charlotte Rees, and it’s not such a corny line, this is my first visit here.” I replied with a sweet smile. We played a few more hands at the poker table before Joe suggested we call it a day and retire to the lounge area for a drink.

Despite his reputation as a hard man, and what I knew was capable of to both men and women that crossed him, he was charming pleasant company and we got on well together. It was soon time for me to leave before he got the idea that I wanted to spend the night with him, and with a light cheek kiss he saw me to the door to collect my coat.

“Dave, get a taxi for the lady and anytime she wants to come back let her in as my guest?”

“Ok, Mr Chapman, my pleasure.”

“Well goodnight Charlotte, I’ve enjoyed the evening and hope to see you again, I’m usually here on Wednesdays.”

Before heading home, I made a detour to a room booked for me in a big hotel where Megan was waiting for me in case Joe had put a tail on me. I was glad to get in, kick of my shoes which were straining my calves, as I wasn’t used to such high heels, and slip out of the tight revealing dress into something more comfortable, before heading back to the house to sit down and review the evening with Megan.

“The microphone worked perfectly, we could hear every word you said, although there was nothing incriminating. My god, you are just an instinctive flirt, the men around here would not be safe if you were a natural woman, you had him eating out of your hand.” giggled Megan. “I couldn’t believe how well you played him.”

“Don’t forget I’ve known him for years, I know how he likes his women to behave, which is why I left so early, I didn’t want get into the situation of being invited back to his place.”

“Leave him a while so you don’t seem too pushy, but go along again next week, he might be a little less guarded now he knows you.”

“Just make sure that you are listening in, recording him, and tracking exactly where I am Megan, I will try to get him to open up a bit more. He might come across as a smooth charmer, but I know what Joe Chapman is capable of.”

To be continued.

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Comments

Playing With Fire

BarbieLee's picture

If he's not a murderer himself he has no resistance to calling in his enforcers to do the dirty deed. Charlotte is threading a very very small needle hoping to make restitution for what she's done in her life and for the murder of her family. A bullet or knife isn't going to pause and wait for the calvary to arrive for the rescue when things go belly up. Does everyone realize the closer Joe is to spilling secrets the closer Charlotte is to losing her life over one simple itty bitty misspoken word.
Hugs Ms. Chambers, beautiful thriller if one likes such.
Barb
When we finally figure out life, it's time to turn it in and began again. Stepping into the lion's den isn't my idea of a great exit plan.

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

A smooth charmer?

gillian1968's picture

I have a feeling things are about to get not so smooth.

Gillian Cairns

Ooer

Robertlouis's picture

You’re saving up a lot of action and excitement, not to say a few pitfalls for Andrea/Charlotte in your final episode. Let’s hope that her determination and new found confidence aren’t misplaced. Brave lass!

Great story, Gill. Can’t wait for the denouement. xx

☠️

It's all building up to a crescendo.

It's all buiding up to a crescendo in the final chapter as Rhiannon gets into trouble. Keep biting the nails for her.

Thank you all Barbie, Gillian, and Rob ,for your interest and comments, they are much appreciated.

Many thanks to Holly for her editing.

photo-1592621385612-4d7129426394_1710612803242_0.jpg

Gill xx

Crescendo? Oh dear!

Lucy Perkins's picture

This is a great story Gill, and I'm very very grateful that you didn't leave us with the proverbial cliffhanger, just the threat of what's to come. As I am off for a fortnight in Bonnie Scotland on Friday, I don't think that I would have lasted a three weeks hanging on the cliff edge.
I absolutely loved your understatement of the year such actions were no longer allowed and any confessions as a result of violence were no longer admissible as evidence.!!
Fantastic story, Gill.
Lucy xx

"Lately it occurs to me..
what a long strange trip its been."

The key word

Emma Anne Tate's picture

Rhiannon prefaced that sentence with “unfortunately.” It isn’t. We don’t disallow evidence from torture because we’re too civilized (would that we were!); we do it because the information you get out of a torture session is generally rubbish. Of course, Rhiannon’s views on the matter were formed on the street . . . .

Emma