May 1986

Sandra dropped Archie off outside his townhouse. They both watched the curtain twitch as the car pulled up.

"Do you think she knows about us?" Sandra asked, biting a fingernail.

"I doubt it. She thinks I'm a womaniser but wouldn't waste my time on my partner, too many loose lips etcetera. Thinks I play around on her as means of getting my own back," Archie stuffed the case files in his briefcase.

"But you are a womaniser Archie, everybody knows it," Sandra replied.

"You're not very observant for a copper are you Sandra?" Archie sighed.

"What?" Sandra was perplexed.

"I haven't been with another woman since we started up. I flirt and I brag but I have only been with you my sweet," Archie leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Stop it Archie!" Sandra brushed him away.

"You won't let me say it Sandra but you know how I feel," Archie lugged his briefcase and then took his suitcase out of the boot.

It turned out that Archie's wife Pauline was working overtime; the extra money earning time and a half on Saturday would come in handy. The teenage girl from next door was babysitting their eight year old son. Archie paid her for the full day and took little Archie down the park to kick a football, then for fish and chips for lunch and after that they saw a movie.

He bought home a curry and set the table for dinner just as Pauline arrived home from work. It looked like she had been drinking already and the first thing she did was reach for a bottle and glass. They ate in silence.

"Off you go little Archie, kiss me and your dad goodnight and he'll be up to read you a story in a bit," Pauline said to their son who did as he was he was told and climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

Archie started to clear the table while Pauline leaned against the kitchen counter smoking a cigarette, sipping her fourth glass of wine for the evening.

"You'll never guess what happened to me today Archie?" Pauline began.

Archie hated her when she was like this. He knew she was going to tell him some sordid tale or belittle him in some way; it was his wife's favourite pastime.

"You know Eddie Bard?" she drained her drink and began to open another bottle of wine.

Everyone at Scotland Yard knew Inspector Edward Bard. As the Chief Constable of the City of Chelmsford he had famously or infamously let the serial rapist-killer known as the Essex Slasher escape justice. The bungled investigation had been exposed by Ruffe Ingersoll, an investigative journalist working for The Daily Sun newspaper.

After the Chelmsford balls-up Walter Middleton, the Essex Slasher, had moved with his wife to Scotland and before long he taken up where he had left off but was caught red handed by the Edinburgh police raping a red-haired, blue eyed woman, the modus operando of the Essex Slasher and was subsequently linked to the crimes in Chelmsford.

Ruffe published his exposé describing how a Special Investigation Team in Chelmsford had identified Walter Middleton as the Slasher but when CID raided Walter's house they found nothing. Ruffe revealed that Edward Bard was Walter Middleton's golfing partner and although he couldn't prove collusion he had inferred it. The mishandling of the case however led to Edward Bard being bought before a police tribunal where he was reverted to the rank of Inspector, his file was marked 'Never To Be Promoted'.

Edward was now desk-bound pushing paper, waiting for retirement and he spent most of his time chasing skirt. He was still a handsome man at the age of fifty four.

The irony was that one of the Special Investigation Team, WPC Glenda Savage, was now Chief Superintendent Glenda Savage and in charge of the Special Crimes Division in which Archie served.

"What about Eddie Bard?" Archie asked, regretting it immediately.

"He fucked me up the wrong 'un this afternoon. Locked the door, pulled down my slacks and knickers, bent me over the desk and shoved that big black cock of his right up my arse," Pauline looked at him smarmily as she poured another glass of wine.

"It hurt like a bastard Archie but it felt good too. I think I came three times while he was buggering me. I can still feel his jizz inside me and me knickers are stained with blood and shit, I'm sure of it," she smiled evilly at Archie as she saw the anger spread across his face.

"Don't get angry Archie. You're just a cuckold who can't satisfy his wife; come to think of it I'm not even sure if little Archie is yours," she sipped her wine dismissively.

Archie hated rising to the bait. He knew it gave her some sort of sick pleasure to belittle and tease him. Little Archie was the spitting image of him and Archie had no doubt that he was Archie's father but Pauline's constant mockery and taunting incensed him.

Archie flew across the kitchen and knocked the wine out of Pauline's hand and he grabbed her by the lapels of her jacket.

"What are you going to do Archie? Fuck me up the arse with that little todger of yours? I wouldn't feel it if you did," she smirked directly into his face.

Archie spun his wife around and bent her over the counter. He tugged at her slacks until he had them around her knees and then pulled down her tights and knickers. Her knickers were indeed spotted with blood and sticky with semen.

"Go on then Archie; have a go. Your little prick won't even make me jump when you put it in. Edward's was so long and thick I thought it was going to come out of my belly," Pauline laughed drunkenly.

But when Archie freed his erection and pushed it into his wife's anus she did jump. Then she pushed back against him and moaned like a slattern.

"Come on Archie, have a go. I can't feel anything, put some effort in you pathetic tosser," Pauline taunted him but she had her fingers between her legs and was rubbing her clitoris frantically.

Archie grabbed Pauline by the hair and pulled back on it like a mane as he slammed his cock in and out of her tight anus. He'd never taken her this way before, even though she'd offered. Her back passage was tight but the remains of Edward's spend and the sloppy secretions dribbling from her vagina lubricated his shaft.

"That's the boy Archie, you're not as big as Eddie but at least I can feel it. Come on Archie fuck my arse like a good boy!" she hissed as her orgasm approached.

Pauline began a high pitched whine which Archie knew signalled her climax and he grabbed her hips and drove his cock all the way inside her and ejaculated. Pauline writhed and wriggled, pushing back into him, grinding her buttocks into his groin as she came. The stench of her quim juices filled the kitchen.

Archie collapsed over her body, his cock still buried in her anus; his spend dribbling onto the kitchen linoleum.

Pauline pushed her husband off her and tugged at her underwear and pulled up her slacks while Archie put himself away.

"You're pathetic Archie. The only way I can get a good shagging out of you is to provoke you," she wheezed as she buttoned the top of her slacks.

"That's it Pauline. I can't go on like this. I'm moving out," Archie said with finality.

He always felt remorseful after they'd had sex like this but this time he felt disgusted and ashamed of himself.

"I mean it Pauline. I'll explain it as best I can to little Archie but I'm moving out this weekend," Archie said.

"Well fuck off then. Good riddance to bad rubbish I say," Pauline took another wine glass down from the cupboard to replace the one Archie had broken.

When she reached up Archie could see a small wet stain flowering in the crotch of her slacks; it was pink, a mixture of blood, semen and her own secretions.

*****

Sandra felt guilty when Malcom started doting and spoiling her as soon she got home. She changed into a house dress and helped him in the garden and they had a quiet dinner. She told him as much as she could about the case because Malcom was genuinely interested in her work.

His work as a schoolteacher was dull and boring and he enjoyed hearing about her escapades solving crimes with Archie. He didn't have a jealous bone in his body and if he suspected that she and Archie were having an affair he had never said anything. All that did was to make her feel guiltier.

She was unsure how he would be when they went to bed that evening after missing out on his weekly sex session the previous night. She wore a negligée and full-cut satin knickers, if he wanted to make love he could get to her body easily and if he didn't all the better and she could sleep comfortably.

They lay side by side in the dark neither of them saying anything. Malcom's hand drifted across her body and rested in her crotch. Malcom's idea of foreplay was to stroke her through panties until she was wet and then mount her and try to get inside before he ejaculated. Premature ejaculation had plagued their sex life and their marriage. Malcom refused to talk about it and because he was so inexperienced and embarrassed about his condition he also refused to try any form of experimentation or variety in their lovemaking.

Malcom rubbed her sex and eventually his fingers opened the folds of her labia and found her clitoris. It was more by good luck than good management, he had no idea how her vagina functioned and was unwilling to learn. Sandra murmured a little and opened her legs for him, signalling that she was ready.

Malcom climbed between her legs and prodded at her sex while she held the gusset of her knickers aside for him. He jabbed at her, his cock rubbing on her satin panties unable to find her sex.

"Oh no!" he moaned his disappointment as he climaxed without even getting inside his wife.

Sandra felt his hot seed splash on her vulva and soak into her knickers. She wrapped her arms around her husband to comfort him.

"It's ok darling; its ok," she whispered.

Malcom climbed off his wife and lay on his back and pulled up his underpants.

"I want a divorce," Malcom said into the dark.

Sandra rolled over and switched on the bedlamp.

"What was that honey?" she didn't believe her ears.

"I want a divorce. It's not you it's me. I can't satisfy my wife, I can't satisfy myself; there's no point going on," he said.

Malcom stared up at the ceiling, unable to look at Sandra.

"I told you Malcom; it's ok. There's other ways we can satisfy each other, we can try a different counselor or see a sex surrogate," Sandra cuddled up to her husband but he pushed her away.

"I've been seeing someone Sandra. You work all the time and you're never here. Mrs Bellamy invited me in for coffee one day and we got talking," Malcom still stared at the ceiling.

"You've been seeing the cat woman? Mrs Bellamy?" Sandra was incredulous and bemused; she tried not to laugh.

Everyone referred to Alice Bellamy as the cat woman because she kept four cats, and although she used the title Mrs, she was in fact a spinster. She lived across the road and spent her time gardening, gossiping and watching daytime soaps.

"We became friends, close friends and eventually I trusted her enough to tell her about my problems and she offered to help me," Malcom murmured.

"The cat woman helped you with your premature ejaculation problem?" Sandra was sceptical.

"She told me that I should be honest with you and I am so let me finish. Alice took me downstairs to her basement and left me alone while she went away. She told me strip naked and I did. She returned wearing a leather catsuit which is funny right? Don't answer that it's rhetorical."

"She touched me down there and I came as soon as she did. She told me it was ok but that I needed to be punished. She put me over her knees and spanked me, then she touched me down there again when I was ready but I came again and she spanked me again. This went on for a while until I didn't come when she touched me."

"This took place over a few weeks and then she got me to, to you know, to put it inside her; to fuck her in the vulgar vernacular. Needless to say I ejaculated as soon as I entered her and then she put me over her knees and spanked me again. We experimented and after a while the spanking helped. If she spanked me before we fucked I could go for a while. Then I could go for a while and then go again."

"I'm not stupid Sandra; I know you're having an affair and I don't blame you. I guess it's with Archie but I really don't care. So Alice Bellamy and I have been having an affair for nearly a year now and I like what I have with her. We have no children; we can sell the house and split the profits. You can move on and so can I," Malcom finally turned to face her.

Sandra was astounded but she had to admit she was relieved.

"I do love you Sandra but what we have isn't working. We live totally different lives and I can't satisfy you. I've just proved that again. We would be happier apart," Malcom said what Sandra had been thinking for some time.

"But if you can perform with Alice Bellamy you can perform with me," Sandra leaned on one elbow.

"What are you going to do; buy a catsuit and a paddle? It won't work Sandra; you're not Alice. Can you turn out the light please, we can sleep and we'll talk about it tomorrow," Malcom turned away from her and was snoring within minutes.

Sandra lay in the dark unable to sleep. She hated herself for feeling relieved that it was finally over.

Archie and Sandra met in Chief Superintendent Glenda Savage's office on Monday morning and updated their boss on the case.

Glenda had always fought with her weight and way back when she was a WPC she had accepted that she was never going to have the figure of a model so she made the best of what she had. She was somewhere in her forties, but like a lot of big women her face looked younger. She had perfect skin, blue eyes and cupid bow lips, her face framed by a halo of black curls and she was pretty, almost 'little-girl pretty' but anyone who took her for a little girl was in for a big surprise; she could be ruthless when necessary.

Today she had a budget meeting with the Deputy Chief Constable so she was wearing uniform: black skirt, white shirt, black and white checked cravat, black tunic with her rank badges on the epaulettes, black stockings and shoes. Glenda made a point of wearing fully-fashioned stockings and her skirts had always been shorter than was regulation and her heels higher. Rather than feeling sexualised like so many women employed in a job dominated by males, she used her overt sexuality to disarm her male counterparts and catch them out unaware.

Glenda was in a rush and sat on the corner of her desk flicking through the case summary while Archie and Sandra sat waiting. Her skirt had ridden up and Archie could just see a hint of stocking-top as she lazily swung one shapely leg back and forth which mesmerised him.

"Good work you two; I take it you fancy this Robert Fellows as the culprit?" she looked up from the file.

"He's our best suspect yes. We've some more interviews to conduct, fingerprints to match and we're waiting on some forensics but I intend to conduct a formal interview under caution with Mister Fellows very soon," Archie replied.

"Keep me informed please, especially when you're dealing with the toffs. They think that because their fathers have money and know people in the right places they deserve special treatment," Glenda put down the file and brushed a piece of lint off her skirt.

"We've encountered that already," Sandra piped in.

"Well fuck 'em; don't give them any. A word please Archie?" Glenda dismissed Sandra.

When Sandra closed the door Glenda got off the desk and handed Archie back his file.

"Ruffe's onto the case. He knows something's up and he'll be like a dog with a bone," she busied herself sorting papers on her desk.

"What does he know ma'am?" Archie asked.

"He knows fuck all but he knows there is more to the case than just a suspicious death. For a start he knows my Special Crimes Division has been called in and he knows that an exclusive male-only university has effectively gone into lockdown," Glenda turned to face him.

"You know Ruffe and I are in a relationship?" Glenda looked down at her shoes.

"You make no secret of it ma'am. No conflict of interest as far I can see," Archie didn't know if that was the response she was looking for.

"What do I tell him?" Archie continued when Glenda remained silent.

"That's easy Archie... you tell him fuck all."

"How are things with Pauline?" Glenda turned her back on him and began to pack her bag ready for her meeting.

"Shit. I moved out yesterday," Archie said coolly.

"Well that makes it easier for me to say what I have to say I suppose. Pauline has garnered a reputation for herself around the Yard and it's rumoured that she's sniffing around Edward Bard," Glenda turned to face Archie.

"If I can be blunt ma'am he's giving it to her whenever he feels like it. He's welcome to her; I'm done with her," Archie sighed.

"You have a boy don't you... little Archie?" Glenda smiled as she recalled seeing Archie's son running around the Division office one day when Archie had bought him to work.

"Well don't let your work get in the way of bringing him up Archie. I never had kids but I know these years are precious. Edward Bard is a prat who is about to fall on his arse; he'll be lucky to escape with his pension intact if that's any consolation. You never heard that from me and keep it schtum."

Archie stood up ready to leave. Glenda put on her regulation bowler hat and reached out a hand to stroke his cheek.

"You'll be ok Archie, you deserve better. Find someone nice who deserves you; if I was twenty years younger I'd be tempted myself," she dropped her hand and was all business.

She strode to the door leaving a trail of perfume and Archie followed in her wake.

Sandra was fighting through the London traffic when she finally spoke to Archie.

"What was that all about with the Chief Super?" she asked.

"Glenda was just telling me what I already knew. My wife is a slut. It doesn't matter anyway, I moved out yesterday," Archie said wistfully.

Sandra burst out laughing.

"Jesus Sandra I tell you my marriage is on the rocks and you laugh at me!" Archie said sharply.

"No... it's just the timing... Malcom is divorcing me... he's shagging the cat lady across the road," Sandra laughed almost hysterically.

"Jesus! What a couple of losers we are," Archie chuckled.

He reached out and placed his hand over Sandra's.

"Malcom is an idiot; he doesn't know what he's throwing away," He squeezed her hand with his and then withdrew it.

Mrs Frobisher met Archie and Sandra like they were her long lost friends and led them into the anteroom.

"Your colleagues were busy here on Friday. Left rather a mess with that powder they use," she sniffed, wiping an imaginary speck of dust off the table.

She was wearing one of her tight suits and heels so high that Sandra wondered how she walked in them, the kick pleat in the side of her skirt that displayed acres of sheer nylon-sheathed thigh obviously helped. It certainly got Archie's attention as did her low-cut blouse. Mrs Frobisher hovered around Archie, openly flirting with him as she got them settled.

"Mister Wayne Jenkins is waiting outside for you," Mrs Frobisher said.

"Shall I send him in?" she made her way to the door and leaned against it seductively.

"Give us ten minutes please Mrs Frobisher; any chance of tea?" Archie gave her a winning smile.

"Of course Archie; I'll bring in a tea service before I bring in Mister Jenkins," she closed the door.

"You're incorrigible Archie. She might as well throw her knickers at you," Sandra smirked.

Archie pulled Sandra into him and slipped his hand under her skirt and up her thighs while she struggled against him.

"The only knickers I'm interested in are under this skirt," he whispered in her ear.

"Stop it Archie," Sandra broke free of him and pulled the hem her dowdy skirt down to her knees.

"You'd be disappointed anyway; I'm wearing my granny-panties again today. It's a matter of function over fashion I'm afraid," Sandra admonished him.

They settled down and prepared for the interview. Mrs Frobisher came in with a tea tray and fussed around pouring tea and finally ushered in Wayne Jenkins and left.

Wayne Jenkins strode into the anteroom looking cocky. He was handsome, young and fit and he knew it. He blatantly ignored Archie and openly stared at Sandra who subconsciously closed the top of her blouse even though it was fully-buttoned. Archie and Sandra had dealt with his type before and Archie deliberately let Sandra take the lead.

The interview was taking place under caution so they read Wayne Jenkins his rights and advised him they would prefer that he have a solicitor present but he had already declined to do so. Archie switched on the tape recorder and for the tape identified everyone present and had Wayne attest that he did not want legal representation.

"You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in Court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence," Archie read the warning and then handed proceedings over to Sandra.

"Before we begin I'll just let you know that we have already interviewed Robert Fellows, William Larkin, who also identifies as Wendy Larkin, the Lowe twins and several other concerned individuals," Sandra began.

"Well Charlotte's death and your investigation was all anyone was talking about over the weekend. I had an interesting interlude with Wendy who told me exactly what she told you," Wayne studied his nails indifferently.

"Interlude?" Sandra wanted to draw him out.

"Well a girl has still gotta make money. The cottage is closed but boys will be boys and some boys will be girls," he smirked.

Sandra summarised Wendy's account of the events leading up to the night of the incident.

"Well of course she's going to paint herself in a better light but what she says is basically true. Charlotte offered sex to the Bridge House council and some of us took her up on the offer. It's better than wanking," Wayne looked Sandra directly in the eyes hoping to shock her but she didn't rise to the bait.

"Then Wendy took over because Charlotte hooked with up Robert but Wendy wanted money. Then after a while we figured out how we could all make a little money and someone came up with the idea of One For The Team."

"Wendy never explained why you called it that," Sandra led him on.

"It was Charlotte's little joke. When she first started putting it out for us she said she was willing to take one for team; we all played rugby you see," Wayne thought he was being impudent but Archie and Sandra had heard far worse.

"So speaking of the rugby team, what can you tell us about the night of the incident?" Sandra steered Wayne to where she wanted him, allowing him to brag.

"It was Wendy and I who came with the idea. The first fifteen had made the finals again and narrowly missed winning the grand final so we thought it would be a great idea to reward them. The team has to wait until term break to go away on our end of season bash because the school is so strict," Wayne leaned back in his chair full of bravado.

"So we came up with idea of renting One For The Team for the night. We charge the lads twenty quid each and they have use of the cottage all night. It's all you can drink and all you can fuck or whatever."

"All four girls would be there to service the lads and also to entertain them and serve them drinks. Some of the lads were dead against it, some were up for it but only as a lark and said they wouldn't touch the trannies, although once they had a few pints those girls became prettier and like I said boys will be boys. Most of the lads that went to the party went with one of the girls at least once."

"The only abstainers were Robert Fellows and Brian Nichol; they absolutely refused to go anywhere near the place," Wayne Jenkins shrugged his shoulders like it was their loss.

*****

May 1986

The first fifteen's end of season stouch tuned into a drunken rampaging orgy about an hour after it started. Ten rugby players and another six hangers-on descended on the cottage and as they had pre-paid they were determined to get their money's worth.

Although Wayne Jenkins claimed credit for the idea, it was Charlotte and Wendy who originally thought up the proposition. The entry fee the lads were paying was to be shared equally between the Bridge House council and One For The Team.

At first the rugby players were a little reticent to engage with the girls except for those who had already visited the cottage before. The two bedrooms were in constant use, Wayne Jenkins and Steven Belfour-Brown took the Lowe twins into a room each as soon as they arrived whilst Charlotte and Wendy entertained the remainder. They played non-stop pornography on the VCR, and Dire Straits, Tears for Fears and Duran Duran cassettes on the cheap sound system and encouraged the men to drink and flirted and amused them.

One of the more reticent young men became infatuated with Charlotte after a few drinks and began to paw at her.

"Look you are really feminine and pretty but I know you're not a real girl. I want to... you know what I want, but I don't want to see your dick," he whispered drunkenly.

The young man was stroking her legs and nuzzling her neck. He really wanted to kiss her but had reservations.

Charlotte had briefed the girls that all those horny young men were going to want sex and lot of it and with only four girls they would have to operate like a production line, taking the lads in and out of the bedrooms and servicing them quickly.

"Both bedrooms are being used I'm sorry," Charlotte said but the man was insistent.

"Fuck it. Come with me," Charlotte led the lad down to the bathroom and locked the door.

Once inside the bathroom where he couldn't be seen by the others the young man began to kiss her and groped under her skirt despite his so called reticence to see her cock. Charlotte dropped to her knees and took him out. He had quite a substantial erection which Charlotte improved with her mouth. When she had him close he pushed her face out of groin.

"I never told the others but I've always wanted to fuck a tranny," he giggled drunkenly.

"Well today is your lucky day," Charlotte grinned up at him.

She got back to her feet and turned away from the lad and leaned against the sink. She lifted her skirt and pulled down the back of her knickers, and ever the improviser, she dispensed a dollop of liquid soap from the dispenser on the sink and lubricated her sphincter and the young man's shaft.

"I love those stockings," the boy pawed at her legs, snagging the first of many ladders for the night.

Charlotte wriggled her buttocks provocatively and the young man got the hint.

She helped guide him to her sphincter and he plunged himself all the way in; his engorged manhood filled her and Charlotte exhaled sharply. He took no time at all holding Charlotte by the hips, driving his cock in and out of her tight passage.

Charlotte found the whole sordid act quite exhilarating and arousing, especially because the lad's cock was so big; it stimulated all the right places. She slipped her hand under her skirt. The lad might not want to see her penis but there was no reason she couldn't touch herself. Her cock was inside her knickers after all.

She stroked her hard cock in time with the boy's thrusts and invitingly pushed back against him to meet him as he fucked her slowly and forcefully. She sensed the young man was peaking and she wriggled her buttocks enticingly and he held her tight and pushed himself inside her all the way and ejaculated.

Charlotte filled her panties at the same time as the young man filled her anus. They were both panting and groaning with the exertion and the pleasure, ignoring the hammering on the door.

When the boy was done, Charlotte handed him a washcloth to clean up and she took another and dabbed at her knickers in a vain attempt to dry them. She had spare pairs in the bedroom but why bother, this lad would be the first of many that she would service that night.

"Wow! That was amazing! Can I do that again later," the young man gushed.

"As many times as you like honey; you've paid for it," Charlotte straitened her hair as best she could in the mirror, adjusted her skirt and opened the door to find an impatient Wendy wanting to use the bathroom, the vice-captain of the rugby team molesting her impatiently.

Charlotte took the young man's hand and led him out into the corridor and kissed him a little. The door to the bedroom she shared with Pamela opened and Pamela emerged with Steven Belfour-Brown in tow.

"Would you like a little something that will help you get it up again later?" Charlotte whispered in the young man's ear.

When he nodded she took him into her bedroom and locked the door. She went to the wardrobe and opened the little compartment where she kept her stash.

"It's a fiver," Charlotte waved the little baggie of white powder under the lad's nose.

The orgy had begun.

At one stage Charlotte was in her bedroom sitting on top of a young man lying on the bed who held her by the waist while he drove his cock in and out of her now well-used anus while she sucked on the hard cock of another man standing on the bed whilst stroking the quivering penis of another man standing beside the bed.

"Oh yes!" the lad fucking her pulled her down hard into his groin and spent himself inside her just as the man standing over his mate filled her mouth with semen.

The imagery of this caused the man she was masturbating to climax and he shot his load over her blouse. At the same time Charlotte ejaculated into her sodden knickers without even touching herself.

*****

May 1986

"And you're adamant that Robert Fellows was not present?" Sandra asked after Wayne Jenkins had detailed the events of the evening.

"Absolutely not and he was dead against it, as was Brian Nichol. Robert loathed Charlotte by now. She and Wendy had been running the brothel for a year give or take and Robert said its existence was a stain on the college," Wayne leaned back in his chair and yawned.

"Look your SOCO guys took my fingerprints and other samples on Friday so is that all?" he was ready to leave.

"And you and Steven Belfour-Brown have alibis?" Archie finally spoke.

"Yes, and not only for each other. We left together with Wendy and the Lowe twins, Charlotte remained behind to clean up a little after the party even though we told her to leave it but she was anal about shit like that. She thought it was her establishment and she took some sort of pride in that shithole," Wayne studied his nails.

"Did you see anyone else when you were leaving?" Archie asked.

"Negative, no, nay, nix, now are we finished here?" Wayne said defiantly.

"Interview terminated at thirteen twenty," Archie spoke for the tape.

Wayne stood up and looked down at the two detectives who were busy entering the tapes into evidence, one of the tapes would be handed to Wayne Jenkins.

"You know under that cheap wrinkled suit and those awful thick tights I bet your girl has got a great body and a nice pair of legs," Wayne said contemptuously.

Sandra held Archie down in his seat as he made to rise to the insult.

"He's not worth it Archie," Sandra hissed.

"No Archie... he's not worth it," Wayne mimicked and mocked her and then sauntered out of the room.

Archie and Sandra had a quick lunch and then headed down to the abandoned buildings in the woods to interview Douglas Quinn. Initially he had refused to be interviewed but Archie had threatened him that it was either an informal chat in Chelmsford or he would haul him down to Scotland Yard and formally interview him under caution so Quinn had agreed to meet near the cottage away from the school. Archie had also leaned on Francis Lister who in turn had leaned on Quinn to cooperate.

Quinn had been to prison before and knew the ropes; you cooperated with the coppers just enough, answered their questions but never elaborated.

"I told you I don't know anything about the gilly's death," Quinn was belligerent from the start.

The three were sitting in the kitchenette of one of the other abandoned buildings that Quinn used as his office.

"You can still help us confirm what other witnesses have told us and put some context to the case," Archie offered Quinn a cigarette and he took it.

Quinn sighed and then began talking.

"That fucking Lister! I had a staff of good local people who maintained the grounds at the college and did all the maintenance. I had a cottage right here on the grounds. Those other abandoned buildings you passed to get here were our workshops, machinery sheds, and a garage."

"Lister convinced the board of trustees to fire us all and bring in contactors; said it would be cheaper and it was. No buildings and equipment to maintain and the contractors worked for less. He effectively re-hired the same people at lower wages and without benefits. Kept me on to manage the contract and to make sure the work is done to a satisfactory standard," Quinn dropped his cigarette on the floor and ground it out.

"I get an allowance to rent a flat in Chelmsford but the groundsman's cottage used to be mine. I tried my best to maintain it and I used it as my office and then the gillys made me a proposition and I moved my office here," he waved at the decrepit kitchenette they were sitting in.

Quinn had an old desk littered with papers, some filing cabinets, rudimentary tea making facilities, a rickety table and a few mismatched chairs.

"What was the proposition?" Archie's asked.

"They paid me a few quid a week to use the cottage and run errands for them in town," Quinn sniffed.

"What sort of errands?" Sandra asked.

"They would give me a shopping list and some money and I'd just buy them what they wanted. Stuff to keep the cottage clean, some sex stuff -- porno tapes and alike, lubricant, extra toiletries. I'm no dummy; the sort of things you might need to run a knocking shop. They even had me buy underwear and other ladies things," Quinn replied.

"And you never questioned why a couple of transvestite students wanted to run a knocking shop in the woods near the college?" Archie asked.

Quinn grinned.

"You got a few hundred horny young men in their sexual prime cloistered in those old college dormitories and they can only get away during the term holidays. They gonna start fucking each other; even the ones who aren't gay. Those gillys looked very ladylike and sexy when they were gussied up. You join the dots," Quinn smirked lasciviously.

"So Charlotte and Wendy ran a knocking shop, as you call it, out of the cottage?" Sandra encouraged Quinn to continue.

"Well Charlotte was the one who ran it really; she was the boss and paid me and gave me the jobs to do," Quinn answered but they could tell there was more to it.

"Did she give you sex?" Archie asked.

Quinn looked wistfully at the ceiling.

*****

September 1985

"This is going to cost you a lot more than twenty quid and a taste once a week," Quinn tossed the small valise up and down in the palm of his hand.

"This is serious shit," he grumbled.

"Forty quid a week and you can have a taste whenever you want but this is only between us, no one else must know," Charlotte replied.

They were sitting at the kitchen table in the cottage, Charlotte had skipped an afternoon lecture and come down to the cottage to transform and wait for Quinn.

"Done, payment up front," Quinn held out his other hand.

Charlotte had the money ready and counted it out on the table. She held out her hand for the valise but Quinn held onto it.

"Payment up front," Quinn repeated himself and looked intently at the bedroom door.

Charlotte had anticipated this. She took Quinn's hand and led him to her workroom as she called it.

Quinn put the money in the valise and put the valise down on the nightstand and hurriedly undressed. He'd been to town and for once was his clothes and his body were clean.

Charlotte surprised Quinn by stepping into him and kissing him. In the past she had refused to kiss him and either done her business on her knees or bent over the table or kneeling on the bed.

Quinn enveloped Charlotte in a surprisingly tender embrace and returned the kiss. His mouth tasted of cigarettes and beer but his breath was not rancid as it usually was. Charlotte felt him becoming hard against her body and she smiled into his mouth.

"You're a very naughty gilly," Quinn broke the kiss and smiled down at her.

Charlotte had come to realise that under the filth and coarseness was a handsome man in his fifties who had simply let himself go. Today at least he was clean and decent looking. She pressed her lips against him again and took his penis in her hand began to softly stroke and squeeze it.

Quinn guided Charlotte towards the bed and encouraged her to lie down. He lay beside her and kissed her while she worked on his cock with her hands and then her mouth. What she would never tell Quinn was that she found his gnarly penis with its prepucial lumps and protuberances on the shaft and bulging purple glans very stimulating when it was inside her. It was like being fucked with what was colloquially known as a French tickler.

Quinn let Charlotte fellate him, enjoying the feel of her wet mouth, her lips and her tongue on his engorged manhood but he had things to do and couldn't spend all afternoon in bed with Charlotte as much as he would like to. He pulled down her knickers and lifted her onto her back.

Charlotte obligingly opened her legs for him. She was surprised when Quinn took the tube of lubricant off the bedside table and used it on his shaft; she was pre-lubricated internally. When he slid inside her Charlotte moaned with lust, his cock felt so good. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and hung on while he fucked her with his usual enthusiasm; she kissed him and whispered endearments and obscenities, encouraging him.

She came first, his hard belly pressing on her cock and the huge appendage pressing on her prostate and stretching her sphincter illicited a colossal orgasm that began in her anus, migrated to her penis and coursed through her body. Quinn was surprised at her open display of pleasure, Charlotte usually seemed revolted by him and let him use her only because she had to. He drove his tongue into her mouth and thrust his cock deep into her bowels and erupted. Charlotte squealed with delight underneath him and held on for the ride as Quinn vigorously fucked her until he was spent.

Charlotte was pulling up her knickers and Quinn was getting dressed when Charlotte spoke.

"If you come to me clean and sober like you did today you get that treatment any time you want it. If you come to me unwashed in your work clothes you get a blowjob in the kitchen or a quick one up against the wall, your call," Charlotte stood and straitened her negligée.

"You're a clever calculating gilly Charlotte," Quinn grinned at her.

Charlotte let him kiss her a little before he had to go.

"You have your money and your freebee now I would like my drugs please," she held out her hand.

Quinn unzipped the valise and took out his money and handed her the bag. She looked inside at the little baggies of white powder and took one out at random and opened it and put a little on her tongue. She smiled to herself.

"This could be good for both us," Charlotte grinned at him.

"You get caught selling that stuff and try to implicate me, I'll slit your throat," Quinn grinned back at her.

"Fair enough," Charlotte leaned in and kissed him and then went to the wardrobe to hide her stash.

*****

May 1986

"Yes I had sex with Charlotte, but not the other gillys. That was the deal I made. Twenty quid a week and sex with Charlotte once a week," Quinn answered Archie's question.

"And the night of the incident?" Sandra asked.

"I did a big shop for them In Chelmsford; they were having some sort of big party. I helped them set up the cottage or the gentleman's club as Charlotte called it," Quinn's response seemed evasive to the detectives.

"Where you there that night?" Archie asked directly.

"I was outside. Wendy thought the gillys might need some security in case those rugby lads got out of hand. There was going to be a lot of them, a lot of booze, and only the four gillys. My remit was to stay close and come running if the girls called out. They gave me a six-pack of beer and a couple of packets of crisps and I set up a camp chair outside the door so the lads could see me when they arrived so that they knew I was there," Quinn replied.

"So you were effectively a bouncer? When did you leave?" Archie asked.

"The party wound down in the early hours. Wendy and those twin trannies left with those two toffs from the house council. I was tempted to go inside and take a turn with Charlotte but she was well pissed and looked like she'd been fucked senseless; even I have standards. When I left she was faffing around cleaning up," Quinn folded his hands across his lap.

"Did you see anybody else as you were leaving?" Archie leaned forward and looked Quinn in the eye.

"I never saw anyone. Is that it?" Quinn asked.

"For now yes but it's highly likely we will want to interview you again under caution at later time," Archie closed his note book.

Quinn grunted and stood up. Archie and Sandra took it as a hint that they should leave as they had no other questions for him at this stage.

*****

Archie and Sandra went back to the anteroom to pack up and were doing so when Mrs Frobisher entered.

"I have Chief Superintendent Glenda Savage on the phone for you Archie," Mrs Frobisher announced.

It was not lost on Sandra that Mrs Frobisher had used Archie's first name.

"It looks like we have our culprit Archie. SOCO have confirmed the latent print on Charlotte's neck belongs to Robert Fellows; we also have his prints on the counter and on the door to her bedroom. The skin samples under Charlotte's fingernails match the samples we took from him. He claims he was never there but we have him at the scene of the crime with his hands around her neck. He's also a match for some semen found in Charlotte Ward's anus but that's inconclusive but he doesn't need to know that," Glenda sounded excited.

"Keep this all to yourselves; don't even tell that pompous ass the headmaster. I'm sending a team from Chelmsford CID to arrest him and bring him down to London. We'll let him sweat in a holding cell overnight and let his parents organise a brief for him and interview him tomorrow. Get your skates and get back to Scotland Yard and prepare for the interview," Glenda hung up.

It was going to be a busy night.

To be continued