I arrived a few minutes late for work to find the squad room a scene of what can only be described as organised chaos. From the looks on everyone’s faces we’d picked up a new case. I headed for my desk and after slipping off my coat I sat down, started to get my bearings and waited in vain for anyone to remark ‘oh you are back then?’ or some such greeting.

I was just returning from three weeks holiday and I was already feeling slightly miffed that none of my colleagues had even noticed that I’d returned to work.

At the front of the office, a sergeant was busy setting up a lectern and a projector at the far end of the office. It was clear that a briefing was going to happen soon. I decided to let things roll by until after the briefing.

I looked around at my desk and it was clear that some slob had been using it in my absence. With a single swipe of my arm, I swept all the used cups, sandwich wrapper and half eaten apple cores that had been discarded onto my desk into the bin. Just doing that made me feel better.

Then, I looked around for my partner, Caitlin. As usual, she was nowhere to be seen. I wondered if she’d been assigned a new partner in my absence.

It was then that I noticed that a senior officer had entered the room and stood by the lectern. He looked around at the general scene of chaos and after shaking his head slightly, he spoke loudly,

“Can I have some quiet please?”

Gradually, the noise in the crowded room died down and everyone shuffled towards the lectern.

“Good morning, people. As some of you may already know, we've been given the task of solving the spate of murders that some sections of the press have dubbed the 'headless totty' case.”

There was some murmur around the room including a few groans. The series of unexplained murders had been in the news for several months.

“You probably all know the basics of the case so I'd like to get straight down to the details of the latest murder. First up is Dr Smith from the Middlesex Path Lab.

The Officer sat down and in his place came a small balding man.

“Good morning to you all. I have the results of the post mortem of the latest victim.”

He pressed the button and the image that was projected onto the screen changed to one of a headless and handless young woman.

“As you are aware, this is the fifth body we have recovered to show the same type of injuries in the past year. The body is of a young woman probably around 23 to 25 years old. She has never given birth and there are no signs of recent sexual activity. This fits in with the other victims.”

He showed another picture.

“As we observed in all the other cases, the killer has gone to great lengths to stop us from finding out the identity of the victim. As you can see from the photographs, just about the only identifying feature she had is a tattoo on her left arm. The killer has shown great patience in he has removed all of the skin and complete epidermis in an attempt to stop us from using it to identify her. From our tests of the area, I can tell that the tattoo used red and blue ink. That is not uncommon. We do not know what the design was. Sadly, no amount of testing will reveal that mystery.”

He moved to another picture.

“The same goes for the tattoo around her left ankle. I am told that in some areas a tattoo on the left ankle indicates that the wearer is or was a lesbian. However, this is not conclusive proof and should not be taken as a statement of fact.”

Finally, he showed an X-ray picture of her right arm. It was easy to see that her arm had been badly broken in the past. So bad in fact that the bones needed to be held together by a metal plate.

“Thankfully the killer didn’t have X-Ray eyes, so ladies and gentlemen, thanks to this little plate in her arm has told me who she is. From the serial number, we have ascertained that her name is 'Peggy-Sue Carron'. From information we have received from the USA, is seems that this body is none other than Miss Peggy-Sue Carron. She was a student at The LSE but she came from Ohio in the USA. According to the US Embassy, she lived in Muswell Hill. Her parents will be arriving here the day after tomorrow to identify their daughters’ body. For the first time, the killer may have gotten a bit sloppy. It might be the break we have been waiting for.”

He paused for a second while he changed the image being projected.

“As to cause of death. It is just like the others. Sadly, I have to confirm that just like the others, she was decapitated while she was still breathing. From my analysis, it was probably done with a chainsaw, and as far as I can tell just like the other bodies I have examined. Her hands were removed when the body was in 'rigour' several hours later. I estimate her time of death to be early on Sunday morning but due to the varying weather conditions of the past few days there is a 6 to 12 hour margin of error in that time.”

With that, he sat down. The Chief Inspector stood up again.

“I want this butcher found and stopped before he kills another young woman. If he shows the same pattern as before and he has been almost as regular as clockwork, we have just less than 30 days to find him before he strikes again. DI Barnes will lead her team and look into the last hours and days of this unfortunate young woman. She will ask about the sexual bent of Miss Carron. The rest of you go over the other cases in detail in light of this new information. This pervert is trying to be careful but sooner of later he is going to make mistakes. I want that to be sooner and it is your job to find them.”

He paused.

“Lastly, I cannot stress strongly enough that the press MUST not know that we have identified this victim. I will be meeting with her parents when they arrive in the hope that they will keep the news of their daughter's death from the press for a while. The American Ambassador will be meeting the Mayor and the Home Secretary later today. We hope that the Yanks will go along with our desire to keep things quiet for the time being. Once the American media get their hands on this story it will be come a media frenzy and we will find it hard to do any proper detective work. Finally, you will all be pleased to know that now that this case has an international flavour, our 'friends' in MI5, MI6”

He paused for inevitable groans before continuing,

“And our friends in FBI will be watching what we do very closely. The PM is visiting Washington at the end of next month. It would be nice for the PM to be able to tell the President that the case is solved and that we did it without their assistance if you get my message. I am already getting pressure from above, namely God himself and his disciples. You all know whom I am talking about. We have an advantage albeit slight but one nevertheless. We may not have it for long so don't just sit there, get off your bums and get sleuthing.”

As he stepped back from the lectern, there was an eerie silence in the room.

I felt slightly apprehensive because this was going to be my first really big case. I’d only been in the squad for six months. I'd been so proud about getting this transfer but now I was not so sure. I just wasn’t sure that this is what I wanted to do any longer.

My daydreaming was cut short by a tap on my shoulder.

I looked up to see the beaming face of my partner, the wonderful and enigmatic Caitlin O’Hara.

“What’s been going on?”

I groaned, she’d missed everything as usual.

Two days went by and everyone felt that what little advantage they once had gone and morale was sinking fast that I realised that one key fact about the case had been starring all of us so called detectives smack in the face all along.

“It is the Northern Line. The fucking Northern Line,” I cried out.

A couple of my colleagues stopped what they were doing and looked at me bewildered. They were probably thinking that I’d gone off my rocker.

“All the bodies have been found less than half a mile from a Northern Line tube station.”

One of them laughed.

“Are you saying that the killer decapitated these woman, put the heads in a bag and went home to his tea by Tube?”

I glared back at him.

“No. No I'm not. I'm saying that it is possible that the killer chose his victims while travelling on the Northern Line. Think about it. Rush hour. On the northern Line everyone is crammed in like sardines. All too easy for someone to stalk these lovely women day after day without being noticed.”

“Ok boy genius, where did the victims get on and get off the 'stalker line'?”

He smiled back at me fully expecting me to back down.

“As we all know, more than a hundred young women 'go missing' in London every week. If we narrow down our search to those who lived close to the Northern Line I'll bet that we find who they are or rather who they were.”

“How much would you like to wager?” argued the other DC.

I thought for a second or two before answering.

I put a smile on my face and said,
“How about if I lose, I'll dress up as a maid and serve you all coffee all day.”

The others all laughed.

“If I win than you will pay for me and my partner to see any show of our choosing in Town.”

One of the others chimed in,

“Speaking of your partner, where is the delectable DS O’Hara?”

One of the others answered.

“She's giving evidence at the Bailey in the Dalston, ‘Drive By Robbery’ Trial.”

The other men looked at each other.

“And pay for us to have a nice meal as well,” I added.
That caused a few chuckles amongst my colleagues.

“Ok, we'll stretch to a meal at the Dog and Partridge.”

With the wager all agreed, I headed off to the records department to look into the missing persons cases.

The next four hours proved to be very productive. I didn’t want to raise any false hopes so I kept my findings to myself for the time being.

It was late afternoon when my partner came into the office having given her evidence at the Old Bailey. I told her about the bet. That cheered her up no end. I expect that it was the prospect of seeing me in a Maids outfit in the office. I didn’t let on but it was something I would have done without the need to be asked twice.

I then turned to the results of my searches. She listened attentively and smiled sweetly in all the right places but it was obvious that she didn’t believe me. In the end we agreed to disagree and we left for home. As we walked to the tube station, I could tell that I’d made an impression. Her normal chatty self was strangely silent.

I spent most of the following day putting the data I’d collated from the missing persons records into “HOLMES” and then trying to formulate the right queries that would prove my theory. After running every and every permutation I could think of, I thought that I now had enough answers let more people know my findings. I knocked and went into the Chief Inspectors office with a large bundle of printouts in my arms.

“Sir, I think I have identified four of the victims and the connection between them.”

The Inspector looked at me seriously.

“You had better not be wasting my time. I have a meeting with the Commissioner in half an hour.”

“No Sir. I'm not wasting anyone's time.”

For the next twenty minutes, I went through each case and showed the boss the evidence that I had gathered. At the end of it, and for the first time in more than a week, my boss smiled.

“Well done Constable. Get your coat on, we are going to show this to the commissioner right now.”

I must have gone as white as a sheet in the face. To me, the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police was on a level with god himself. Normally the likes of me don’t get to meet with the top brass unless we are in real deep shit.

The meeting went well. I didn’t say a word. My only participation was to nod my head as the appropriate moment.

On the way down in the lift, my boss looked pleased, very pleased.

“Well done constable. Good old police work has given us our first real solid lead in this case.”

That compliment was enough reward for me.

As we walked into the office, my thought turned to the nice meal that my colleagues were going to buy if before the end of the week.

The chief called a ‘All Hands’ meeting and after a brief preamble, he let me tell everyone my findings.

The relief in the team, knowing who the victims were was palpable. Everyone's spirits were lifted. It didn't take long before a very detailed picture of the women was put together. It was obvious what they all had in common. They all had red hair. Not the natural ginger red but the died really vibrant lipstick red or even ‘day-glow’ hair.

A pattern also emerged about their lives and especially their travel habits. They all travelled through Archway Station on the Northern Line at least twice a day.

Then everything went dead. It was as if they'd hit a brick wall. No more leads nothing, nada.

This naturally frustrated the hell out of me. This frustration led to start thinking of ways around this. As I sat the in deep contemplation an idea gradually started to form in my mind. The more I thought about it, the more I liked it. In the end, I had to tell my partner.

“Sarge? I have an idea that may help us capture our killer. Can we go somewhere quiet?”

She looked at me and sighed.

We headed outside the office and down to the Embankment opposite the ‘London Eye’.

I was just about to launch into my idea when Caitlin said,
“If your bright idea is for a Woman Police Officer to dress up in a wig and play the part then, the brass has already rejected it outright. They say it is far too dangerous and I’m inclined to believe them.”

I smiled at her and replied,
“I agree with you in that it is not for a woman to be the bait. I'll do it.”

Caitlin almost fell onto the floor laughing.

When she’d recovered enough of her composure to speak, she said,
“You! Don't kid me. You might look all baby faced but this really takes the biscuit. I might just as well go and tell the boss to send you back to being a beat officer.”

“No Caitlin. Please let me show you how serious I am. If a bait operation is going to work, then it has to be 100%. No 1000%. Something like this needs real identities, backstories and absolutely no contact with the team here.”

At that moment, Caitlin realised that I was deadly serious. Now she felt worried.

“How will you prove it to me? Be warned, it has to be good. I really don’t want to be a laughing stock amongst my peers.”

I smiled.

“The Ship’s Capstan is your local, isn't it?”

“Yes. So?”

“If I recall from my time as a beat officer in the area, they have Karaoke on Thursday's. Today is Thursday. Get your glad rags on and I'll see you there at 8pm. If you breathe a word of this to anyone else, then the deal is off.”

Somewhat wearily, she agreed.

[End of Chapter 1]

Standing in one of the darker recesses of the Pub, I could see that Caitlin was getting a little worried by the time the Karaoke session started at 8:30pm and there was no sign of me. I was trying to get up enough courage to approach her.

Her evident anxiety persuaded me that I needed to act. I took a deep breath and walked over to her table and sat down.

Caitlin saw someone approach,
“I'm waiting for....”

Then she realised exactly who it was who was sitting in front of her.

“Jamie? Is that really you?”

I smiled back at her.

“Yes Sarge. It’s me. Can I call you Caitlin? Sarge seems so formal and we are not on duty now are we?”

I sat down in front of her. She looked me over several times. Each time her expression was one of increasing incredulity.

Caitlin couldn't get an answer out.
Eventually, she said,

“You have done this before haven't you?”

“Call me Isabel. Yes I have. This is the reason why Division got rid of me.”

“What? What are you saying?”

“I'm transitioning.”

“What? Transitioning? I don't understand.”

“I'm a transsexual. I'm becoming a woman. Now do you understand?”

Before Caitlin could answer, I stood up from the table and said,
“That is my number that is coming on, don’t go anywhere.”

I leapt up on stage as fast as the impossibly high heels I was wearing would allow and gave a what I hoped was a fantastic rendition of 'I will survive'. There was a very good round of applause at the end of the song.

I was quite out of breath as I returned to the table and sat down in front of Caitlin.

“Well, what you think?”

Caitlin’s mouth was still wide open as I sat down after my performance.

She tried hard but no meaningful words would come out. In the end, she downed what was left of her drink in one go and literally dragged me out of the pub.

Once outside, she carried on dragging me along the street until we reached her apartment on the river close to Greenland Dock.

Her grip never weakened as she led me inside and plonked me down on a leather sofa.

“I’m so sorry Caitlin. I didn’t think...”

“Silence!” commanded Caitlin as she finally got her brain and mouth back into gear.

I shut up.

Caitlin disappeared into the kitchen. She soon returned with a tumbler half full of a golden brown liquid that I presumed to be whisky. She downed it in one go.

“I suppose you think that was funny. I know I have a reputation as someone who swings on the female side but that stunt was just too far. I suppose that you had someone in the audience videoing it all? What is it going to be uploaded? U-tube, Facebook or whatever?”

She glared at me.

She was certainly living up to her nickname. “Scarlett O’Hara” was being her usual dramatic self.

I tried to look serious as I began my reply.

“Caitlin, I am not joking and I certainly did not have someone from the team videoing my performance. No one in the squad knows about my true self. No one apart from you that is...“

I added,
“Besides, who would be the butt of all the jokes from the team eh? Not you, I’d wager next months salary on that.

I paused for a second before lifting up my blouse and bra.

“See these scars?”

She didn’t reply.

“They are from where I had my breast implants implanted just over three weeks ago. These are going to be filled with saline to give me some breasts. That’s why I was on holiday.”

Her mouth started the fish impersonation again.

“I’m not just someone who dresses up in women’s clothes, well that is part of it but I’m going to live the rest of my life as a woman. One day soon, I’ll come into the office and ask to be known henceforth as Isabel.”

Caitlin glared at me.

“Are you really trying to make me the laughing stock of the squad if not the whole Met Police?”

“I didn’t ask to be your partner. Then you made it abundantly clear for quite some time after we’d been teamed up, that I was not the one you wanted to partner with. If you recall, you didn’t speak to me for nearly a week when I first replaced DS Clancy.”

She ignored me.

“You are going to as the boss first thing tomorrow for a transfer or at the minimum a new partner.”

I shook my head.

“You know he won’t do anything in the middle of a major case.”

“Then you will have to resign. He can’t stop that.”

“Why should I? I can perform my duties perfectly well as Isabel as I have done as Jamie. Besides, Godzilla knows all about my transition.”

Godzilla was the nickname for Assistant Commissioner Victoria Bishop, the champion of gay rights in the Police. Many officers tipped her to be the next Commissioner even though she was openly gay.

“I don’t care if God himself approves. You are not going to be my partner wearing a skirt. Only one of us can do that and that one is me! Got it?”

I almost retaliated by saying that until tonight, I’d never seen her in a skirt but I bit my tongue and said nothing.

Her outburst made me look at my partner in a completely new light. What I was seeing now was the one I’d been warned about when we were first teamed up, the rapid temper and quick mouth. Until now, she’d been so different towards me.

“Then why did you drag me back here? You could have told me all that in the Pub?”

She didn’t answer.

I decided to change tack a bit.

“What about my idea? Don’t you want to know about it?”

“Not really,” she mumbled.

I decided to tell her anyway.

“Do you remember that seminar we went on a few months back?”

No answer except a stare.

“The one about ‘deep cover’?”

Then it dawned on her.

“Are you trying to get me killed like all those other women?”

“No. I’d be the bait. I can look after myself.”

“You? Don’t make me laugh!”

Then she laughed.

“So that was what all this was about?”

Her laughing continued for several minutes.

“Now I’ve seen it all. I really have.”

Then she laughed some more.

Eventually it stopped and I got the steely gaze once more.

“Just how in your wildest dreams did you think you could actually persuade the boss and then his boss to agree to this fantasy?” asked Caitlin somewhat sarcastically.

I took a deep breath and began my explanation.

“My idea was that I’d be the bait and you would be my lesbian partner. I’d look…”

“Just stop right there, buster. I’m not a lesbian. Understand?”

I smiled back at her.

“I know that but for the purposes of the operation, we would appear and act as a lesbian couple.”

“I don’t know.”

“You know all the facts we’ve discovered about the victims. Well, the ones we know about anyway. They were all lesbian couples or that the flat shared with another woman and they all had one member with hair that was dyed red.”

“I’ve got red hair so why not me?”

“Two reasons. Firstly, you know what would happen to your hair if you tried to dye it the shade of red that the victims had, it would go a horrid shade of green. Secondly you aren’t a 4th Dan black belt in Tae-Kwon-Do and a 2nd Dan in Karate. That’s why.”

“You?”

Caitlin laughed when she saw me nod my head.

“You are mad, totally mad.”

I smiled back.

“You might be right. You might very well be right. But given where we are in solving this case something has to be done to move it forward.”

She looked at me long and hard.

“I have a lot of thinking to do about you and this bonkers idea of yours.”

I knew that I wouldn’t get much more out of her that night so I bade her goodnight and headed back to my flat in Kensal Rise.

As I waited for the London Overground train to Dalston at Surrey Keys I reflected on what she’d said about thinking. I knew that I also had a lot of thinking to do. I’d been running on adrenaline for several days and could not continue for much longer.

[to be continued in Part 3]

When we arrived at the office the next morning, we didn’t get much time to talk things over. Crime Stoppers had received a tip off that the killer was living in a terraced house in Crouch End. Naturally, we went mob handed which included full riot gear and body armour. In the end, it turned out to be nothing more than a man who had systematically killed almost all the local tomcats because they kept him awake at nights. Many of us felt like real idiots but the press seemed to be satisfied that we were taking the murders seriously.

We did finish the day with one less serial killer on the streets of London. Unfortunately for us, it was the wrong one but at least the press had something to crow about.

Caitlin didn’t say much when I said goodbye to her that evening. Neither of us was roistered for duty over the weekend so in lieu of any decision from her, I told her that I’d see her on Monday.

I’d just settled down at home for the evening when the doorbell rang. I groaned as I got up to see who it was. I was halfway through painting my nails for the weekend so I was in no mood for a doorstep salesman or a local politician canvassing for votes for the forthcoming election.

I carefully opened the door and to my surprise, I found Caitlin standing there.

She smiled at me and dropped the bombshell.

“Ok. I’ll do it.”

I almost went and kissed her but I’m glad I didn’t as she followed it up with the inevitable,

“On one condition.”

My heart sank.

“You’d better come in. I get a feeling that I’m going to have to be sitting down to hear this.”

I stood aside and let her into my home for the first time. As she passed me I got the smell of perfume. I gave myself a small smile. I’d never know her to wear anything more that some deodorant to work.

As I shut the door behind her my mind went back to trying to guess what her conditions were.

“Please come into the sitting room and sit down,” I said desperately trying not to mess up my nails.

I sat down opposite her and waited for the bombshell to drop.

Instead, she started giggling.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped between laughs.

It took her several minutes to stop and regain her composure.

“I’m so sorry for that. It was just the picture of you doing your nails. I’ll just have to get used to it I suppose.”

I began to feel a little less concerned.

“It is actually quite fortuitous that you are doing your nails. My condition is that we spend the weekend together just to prove to me that we can even attempt this crazy operation together.”
Then she added,
“And not end up killing each other…”

Her condition was just about the last thing I’d expected. I was stunned.

Caitlin smiled at me.

“The cat got your tongue?”

I tried to say something but nothing would come out.

I gave up and went to get her a drink. I poured two generous shots of Scotch. I knew that she was partial to Scotch and surprisingly for someone from Ireland, she didn’t like the Irish version of Whisky.

As I handed her the glass, I finally managed to speak.

“Caitlin, I don’t know what to say…”

She smiled back at me.

“How about ‘Thank you’?”

“Thanks.” I muttered and put my glass out towards her.

She took my hint and our glasses chinked.

“Sláinte,” I said.

“Sláinte,” replied Caitlin.

I sat down and took another swig from my glass.

“What are your plans for the weekend then? You do have some don’t you?”
As soon as the words came out of my mouth I realised what a fool I’d been.

“Well, that is obviously a silly question, you would not be here if you didn’t have one.”

She laughed.

“Sort of. First, I want to see your wardrobe.”

“Eh?”

“If you are going to be a woman then you must have the right clothes. All the trannies I’ve ever met were so badly dressed, it was easy to pick them out in a crowd.”

She made sense even though I was not going to like her examination of my undies drawer one little bit.

I sipped a little more Scotch and then stood up.

“Ok then, let’s get the next bit of humiliation over and done with,” I said with more than a hint of resignation in my tone.

Caitlin followed me into my bedroom.

I slid open the door to my wardrobe.

“There you go. Do your worst.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” joked Caitlin as she began looking through my clothes.

It was.

Within five minutes there was a sizeable pile of my ‘stuff’ on the bedroom floor.

Caitlin finished her sorting and turned to me with an evil grin on her face.

“There, that wasn’t too bad, now was it?”

I looked at the few items remaining.

“That doesn’t leave me with much to wear, does it?”

Caitlin smiled and looked at her watch.

Then she grabbed one of the few outfits left and thrust it into my hand.

“Get ready and we’ll go shopping.”

“At this time of night? It’s almost seven?”

“Westfield is just down the road, isn’t it? Aren’t they open until ten on Fridays”

I wanted to say something but I thought better of it.

I glared at Caitlin who took the hint and left me alone thoughtfully shutting the door behind her.

I got dressed as quickly as possible being careful not to trip over the pile of clothes in the middle of the floor in the process. I put on the black wig that had been sitting on a wig stand on my dresser. The final touch was to slip on a pair of low-heeled shoes.

After checking myself in the mirror, I left my bedroom and said to a slightly surprised Caitlin,

“Come on then lets’ get going!”

She gave me the once over and responded with a small smile. I guess I passed muster for the time being.

She put on her coat and left my flat. It had started to rain so we literally ran down to the main road and piled into a Taxi.

“Westfield, Shepherds Bush please,” said a slightly breathless Caitlin.

Fifteen minutes later the Taxi dropped us outside the shopping centre. Caitlin paid the driver and we went inside.

I’d been there quite a few times before but never with the express aim of buying a load of clothes, female clothes. I’d often wandered into stores and looked at buying things but I nearly always chickened out trying things on. I was always embarrassed about other women seeing my false breasts. Now I had what was soon to look like proper ones it didn’t seem to bother me any longer.

When Caitlin thrust some clothes into my hands saying,
“Go and try them on,”

I didn’t argue with her, I went.

“That looks good on you,” remarked Caitlin as I paraded the outfit.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

‘Not bad’ I thought to myself ‘but…’

“It’s hardly my colour, is it?”

Caitlin giggled.

I stared at her with my hands on my hips.

“And exactly what do you mean by that?”

“Can’t you take a joke?”

I stormed back into the changing room before I said something I’d live to regret.

By the time the centre closed, I’d spent a good deal of money and not all of it on myself. Still, I was reasonably happy that so far, Caitlin hadn’t gone off saying ‘no I won’t do it’.

We took a taxi back to my home picking up a Sweet and Sour Pork Balls with Rice on the way.

It was well after midnight and the pile of empty food cartons and wine glasses were left for the morning, we went to bed. Well, I went to bed and Caitlin slept on the pull-out bed in the sitting room. I gave her a nightdress and wished her goodnight before escaping into my bedroom. I needed to think. My mind was both happy and confused. Happy that I’d gone obtained some half decent clothes but confused as to why Caitlin had just taken over like that. That in itself wasn’t out of kilter for her but as to why she’d done it was beyond me.

As a result, sleep didn’t come easily. I had so much on my mind that I tossed and turned for several hours.

Just before dawn, I woke up to feel someone getting into my bed. From the smell, it was Caitlin.

“Wha…”

“Shhh. Go back to sleep,” she whispered.

She wrapped an arm around my waist and settled down. There wasn’t really anywhere I could go. My bed wasn’t some luxurious king or queen-sized bed. It was more of a large single. There was just about room for the two of us provided neither one of us wanted to turn over.

After a while, I relaxed and fell asleep as Caitlin’s right hand gently massaged my right breast. It just felt right.

Sadly, the call of nature could be denied only for so long so just before seven, I slipped out of bed and made for the bathroom hoping not to wake Caitlin.

When I returned she’d taken over the whole bed so I shrugged my shoulders and headed for the kitchen stopping only to grab my dressing gown from the back of the door.

After putting some fresh coffee on to brew, I cleared away the remains of last night’s meal as quietly as possible. Then I realised that I was stuck. Saturday morning was my normal time to clean the house. The rest of the week, I was I have to admit, not as tidy as I could have been but by Saturday lunchtime, the place was clean and very tidy once more. Suddenly I have someone else to consider. Someone who hated getting up in the morning.

I sat down and poured myself another cup of coffee.

This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. An awful lot harder.

-0-

It was well past nine the next morning before Caitlin stirred. She came into the kitchen rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“I missed you. It was nice and comfortable back there in bed.”

I glared at her then I realised that she was pulling my leg.

“That bed of yours is far too small for two people to share.”
“Well, it wasn’t bought with two people in mind. Besides, I left you in here last night,” I replied as I poured her some tea.

Caitlin was a tea only drinker in the morning. The first cup had to be strong. These little things one soon picks up when one is very much the junior partner in a team.

I sat back and let her drink her tea.

“What are your plans for the day?” asked Caitlin as she put down the now empty mug.

“I normally spend Saturday mornings doing the housework.”

Caitlin had trouble keeping the sniggers away.

“Wearing that maids outfit I saw last night I suppose?”

Without thinking, I replied,

“I have two outfits you know.”

Caitlin went red in the face. Strike one for me.

“Ok then.”

Bugger. One all.

In the end, we had some fun doing the housework. I think both of us began to unwind and relax. I did find out something about her that worried me.

Caitlin was a slob. At home, she was a slob. Well compared to me she was. Compared to her I was neat and tidy about everything at home. I wondered if this might be a problem if we had to live together for the duration of the operation.

Caitlin was finishing off in the bathroom as I went and made us some lunch.

The smell of frying bacon brought her prancing into the kitchen when she’d finished.

“That wasn’t so bad now was it? Being a Maid for a while?”

Caitlin laughed.

“Ok. You win. I haven’t done as much cleaning as that for a long time.”

I thought to myself that it didn’t seem like that when I was there the other day.

Caitlin must have seen my concern.

“The owner of my place employs someone to come in twice a week so I don’t have to do much apart from my laundry.”

I smiled back at her. It was going to be a problem… if we did this undercover thing.

Over Bacon Sandwiches, we talked about what we should do for the rest of the day. Inevitably, the topic of shopping came up. Inwardly, I groaned inwardly as I really didn’t want a repeat of the previous evening and its accompanying humiliation that she’d put me through.

Thankfully, Caitlin saw my concern and promised not to humiliate me again. She volunteered to wear the Maids outfit and clean my flat on her own if she did. I tried really hard to get her to wear it into the office but she wouldn’t budge which was probably the right decision.

As I did the dishes after lunch, I had to admit to myself that Caitlin was a pretty nice person once you got past the hard shell she put on when we were at work. That made me sad, sad that she felt that she had to hide behind a façade at work.

I finished doing the dishes and went to find Caitlin. She was getting changed in my bedroom. As I walked in through the door, she let out a little scream and covered herself with a blanket.

As soon as she realised what she’d done, she burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. It is perfectly natural. I should have knocked.”

“No. It’s your bedroom after all.”

Then I asked her.

“Caitlin, please don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you hiding from everyone at work? Today you have relaxed and I’ve seen a side of you that you keep hidden when you are at work.”

She looked totally surprised by my question.

For a second I thought that she might blow her top. After all, she was well known in the squad for her fiery temper when put on the spot.

To my eternal relief, she didn’t explode.

Instead, Caitlin looked me hard in the eye and after a little pause said,

“I know. It is very hard for me. I feel that I have to keep up a front. Being a woman and from Northern Ireland means that I have to prove myself twice over.”

Sunday morning saw me alone in the kitchen just after seven. I cleared away the things from the night before but dithered about switching on the Coffee maker.

I was undecided because I was feeling guilty about not having visited my ‘Dojo’ in more than four weeks. Sensei Arai would be annoyed with me. He wanted me to take my 5th Dan exam but I wasn’t sure. The extra training I’d need to do, coupled with my job and of course my transitioning was just a few too many things to handle at the same time.

I felt that I needed to go to the Dojo and spend an hour or so training but I wasn’t sure about the reception I’d get now that I was probably no longer living as a man.

As I pondered the options, I remembered something that my shrink had told me more than two years ago when I’d decided that it was time to be myself at long last.

The lovely Dr Miriam Jenkins had told me,

“When you accept that you are living as a woman and it does not bother you, then you have transitioned.”

Standing there in my Kensal Rise Kitchen on that lovely Sunday morning, it didn’t bother me at all furthermore the realisation that I didn’t care made my mind up for me. I would go to the Dojo and to hell with what anyone would say.

I hurriedly scribbled a note for Caitlin, got dressed in some old clothes and dashed out the door grabbing the bag with my uniform in it as I went.

Less than twenty minutes later I walked into the ‘Harrow Road Dojo’ thanks to the prompt arrival of a No 18 bus.

Sensei Arai greeted me with a deep bow, as is custom in the Dojo. I returned it. Whilst I was still bowed, I said,

“Master, I am sorry for not attending your honoured Dojo these past four weeks.”

“Apologies accepted. I can sense that you have something more important on your mind.”

I came up from the bow and asked.

“Master?”

“I see you have finally accepted that your female side is your life.”

I smiled and bowed.

“Yes Master.”

“I am pleased. I have a surprise for you today. You will work out with Chen Li.”

I am sure I went white in the face. Chen was the Dojo ‘top Dan’. She could whip any man in the Dojo to a pulp in minutes. I was not looking forward to meeting her on the mat.

Sensei Arai sensed my unease.

“Don’t worry my honoured pupil. I will tell her to go easy on you.”

If the beating I received in the following half hour were Chen Li going easy, I would hate to think what she would do to someone when she was angry.

My only saving grace was that I did at least manage to land a few good blows on her before I submitted to her onslaught.

As I left the Dojo, Master Arai stopped me.

“Yes Master. How can I be of assistance?”

“You did well today. Chen does not like people like you. You landed some excellent blows against her. Blows worthy of a 5th Dan.”

I was stunned. Master had set me up.

He continued.

“My Daughter and esteemed pupil, Chen will not take her anger out on you any longer. She will be your Master from now on when you return to study for your next level.”

I bowed to him.

“Yes Master.”

He returned my bow.

When I returned to my flat, I found Caitlin sitting in the kitchen reading the Sunday paper.

“Did you have a good workout?”

“Yes. Well a bit. Mistress Chen does not know when to ease up.”

“Mistress Chen? Tell me more,” asked Caitlin suddenly very interested.

I smiled back.

“Not that sort of Mistress. She is the daughter of my Master. The terms refer to your instructor. You are his pupil therefore he is your Master,” I replied trying to keep things as simple as possible.

“You fought this Mistress Chen?”

“Yes, and I’ll have the bruises in a few days to prove it.”

She giggled.

Then she put the paper down.

“We need to talk about tomorrow and I need to go home and sort out my stuff.”

“Do you really think that the ‘brass’ will go for it?”

She thought for a moment before answering.

“When you floated the idea to me, I thought you were mad. Totally bonkers and certainly certifiable but then I thought about it a lot and what swayed me was the fact that whoever is doing this is very good. So far, we have at least six victims and he has made absolutely no mistakes. Absolutely no evidence at all as to who he is.”

She sighed.

“If I was running the investigation, I’d be tearing my hair out. I’d have to consider just about any way to catch the bastard. So yes, I think they will but….”

She swallowed hard before replying,

“I’m worried about you.”

“Me? Why?”

“I know you can take care of yourself but what happens afterwards? How much thought have you given to what you are going to do after this is all over?”

“I don’t understand?”

“Do you really think that you can continue as a police officer? You know how funny the force can be about people who are…. different.”

“I know. That why I’ve been talking to ACC Bishop.”

Caitlin shook her head.

“It does not matter one iota what the top brass says or does, it is those of us on the ground that matter. As the Americans say, ‘it is the grunts that do the work.’”

She thought for a second.

“Take Billy Mitchell for example. He’ll never accept you. Not in a million years. You saw how he reacted when he had to interview that tranny in the Cummins case last year. Ok, so the tranny was just a man in a dress and it showed but as far as he was concerned, it was the tranny who was guilty despite having nothing to do with the murder.”

I remembered the incident all too clearly.

“But he works with Sammy Franks. What is the difference?”

Caitlin laughed.

“He was told in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t accept that Sammy was gay and that Sammy was not going to rape him at the first opportunity then his career would be over. No questions, no arguments. ACC Bishop read him the riot act. “

“She could do it again?”

She shook her head.

“He’s far too subtle to do anything out in the open. A hint here, an innuendo there and the damage is done.”

I knew that what she’d said was true. Some people would not accept me no matter what.

“I guess you are for once talking a good deal of sense. That’s what partners are for aren’t they?”

I smiled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find something to do.”

Then I wiped the smile off my face.

“To be able to live as a woman is something I’ve wanted to do since I was eight or nine years old. I won’t let something like this get in the way of that.”

Before Caitlin could reply both of our mobile phones bleeped as they received a text message.

This could only mean one thing, bad news.

My worst fears were confirmed when we saw the cryptic message ‘CTW’, meaning ‘Circle the Wagons’ which meant everyone had to drop everything and report for work. Coming at this time on a Sunday could only mean one of two things, the killer had been caught or another body had been found.

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

Caitlin smiled back at me.

“You are going to call Godzilla and explain. I’ll go into work and tell them that you are out of town and can’t get back until Monday. You’d better turn you phone off as well because you know how Billy likes to dig into things. I wouldn’t put it past him to try and track your phone.”

I just nodded. She was right.

“Yeah, I can’t go into the office looking like this, now can I?”

I still had my Tae-Kwon-Do uniform on.

Caitlin laughed.

“I was more thinking of your eyebrows. I think I might have gone too far with the tweezers last night.”

I smiled back.

“No. The time has come. This is as good as any. So, do you need to go home to get changed?”

She thought for a second.

“No, I’ll make do with what I’ve got here. Let’s both of us get changed then?”

With that, she stripped stark naked in front of me and then ran into the shower. As I realised what she’d done, I glared after her. She’d outsmarted me once again.

While she was showering, I decided that I would go into the Office as well and hang the consequences.

Two hours later, I took a deep breath and pressed the lift button for the 6th floor. Caitlin squeezed my hand and smiled.

“I’m here.”

“Yeah, two steps behind me.”

She didn’t get a chance to answer as the doors opened. We were there.

Our heels clicked on the floor as we walked into the office. It was a buzz of activity.

Then one by one our colleagues noticed us. First off, they saw the new Caitlin. Then they wondered who was with her. Then the realisation set in. As we walked to our desks the place became silent. Many mouths were open in surprise.

Our boss looked up from his desk. The sudden silence had alerted him.

He came to the door of his office.

He saw Caitlin and myself.

“Well? Why aren’t you morons getting on with your work? We have a serial killer to catch,” said our boss to the rest of the team.

Then he turned to us.

“You two! My office NOW!”

We followed him into his office. He made sure that the door was closed behind us.

“Whatever joke this is that you are trying to pull, I find it in really bad taste. Another victim has been found and you two turn up looking like this. And you Jamie! What the fuck do you think you are playing at?”

He sat down at his desk.

“I really don’t care what the fuck you get up to at weekends but to come in here looking like some tart from Soho when we have a killer to find, really takes the biscuit. It really does. What have you got to say for yourselves?”

“Sir!” began Caitlin.

I touched her arm.

She stopped talking

“Sir. My name from now on is Isabel. I am a transsexual. ACC Bishop knows all about my wish to be known henceforth as Isabel.”

“God…. ACC Bishop knows all about this?”

“Yes Sir. She does.”

By now, he was very red in the face.

“You two get out of here.”

He glared at me.

“And you, Jamie, Isabel or whoever you are, I don’t ever want to see you again. Understand?”

“But Sir. Acc Bishop says…”

“Frankly, I don’t give two fucks what Godzilla says of thinks. You are no longer a member of this squad. Got it?”

Caitlin had for her been strangely silent throughout this exchange.

“Does this apply to me Sir?”

He glared at Caitlin. Normally, she’d be dressed to blend into the background. Today, she was in a very short denim skirt, yellow tights and a pretty skimpy top.

“What do you think?”

With that, we were dismissed.

We left the office and saw a sea of faces, expectant faces, looking at is.

Caitlin gripped my arm.

I looked at her wondering what was going on.

She gave me a little smile.

Then she grabbed me and kissed me. Passionately.

I really had no choice but to respond.

Slowly a round of applause enveloped the whole office.

Our Boss came out of his office even redder in the face.

“You two! OUT NOW before I have you arrested for perverting the course of justice.”

His unfortunate use of the word ‘perverting’ caused a lot of laughter amongst our now former colleagues.

We walked out of the office to a round of applause that was cut short by a loud voice shouting, ‘Get the fuck back to work. We have a killer to catch’.

Once outside the office, I grabbed Caitlin by the arm.

“Why did you do that?”

“What?”

“You know very well what. That kiss?”

She giggled.

“I don’t know. It just seemed like a good idea at the time besides, he pissed me off no end.”

I just glared at her.

She gave me a little smile.

“At least they are all on our side now.”

“Thank heaven for small mercies. So, what do we do now?”

“Go and get a coffee. Then we go and see Godzilla.”

I took a deep breath and said,

“No, we go and see ACC Bishop right now. I think we need to get that over with before we brave the canteen.”

Caitlin didn’t disagree.

“Will she be here?”

I smiled.
“Her car and driver were outside when we came in so I’d say yes, she is in the building.”

[to be continued]

We found ACC Bishop in her office. Her assistant soon understood our predicament and arranged for us to see her boss.

To give her credit, the Assistant Commissioner listened intently to our plan without showing any emotion or reaction one way or the other.

At the end of our speech, she closed her eyes for almost a minute.

When she opened them again she smiled at us.

“Well, I have to say that of all the ideas that have been floated by me and the other commissioners to catch this killer… This is just about the most ridiculous and silly and… You know it might just work but…”

My heart sank. I looked over at Caitlin and she looked equally depressed.

“But it will need selling to a good number of people before it gets sanctioned. Why isn’t your Commanders here with you?”

“Ma’am?” I said,
“Our former boss threw us out of the team and said that he never wants to see us again.”

“Oh really. I can’t say that I’m all that surprised, He’s already skating on thin ice. One word from me and he’ll take you back.”

I looked over at Caitlin. She returned a slight nod.

“He was less that complimentary about you and… and we don’t want to serve under him again. He is… forgive me for saying Ma’am, a bit of a dinosaur.”

For the first time she really smiled.
“We have a bit of history so his attitude towards me is understandable. What isn’t acceptable is to throw you out like that. That is a clear breach of discipline and he will have to answer for that in due course.”

Both Caitlin and I looked relieved when she said,
“If your plan does not fly then there are plenty of opportunities in the force for more enlightened officers.”

Then she stood up and led us towards the door.

That was the start of many meetings where we repeated our plan almost ad nauseam. We went from meeting one senior officer to another and another that spanned the remainder of the day and almost the whole of the following one. But to our immense relief, in the end, it was finally agreed that we could go ahead with my plan. Well, it wasn’t really our plan anymore but neither of us was going to argue the point as we were both knackered.

The one positive side effect was that all the different questions we received and hopefully answered allowed us to refine our plans a good deal. Well, that was what we felt.

ACC Bishop called us into her office for one final briefing.

“Well, I have to hand it to you two. You have managed to persuade even the most sceptical of my colleagues that your plan has enough merit to let you do it. Well done.”

She smiled.

“Now the hard part for you two begins.”

She reached into a drawer in her desk and pulled out two cloth bags.

“The first thing is that I’ll need you to give me everything that can identify you. I’ll keep it all in my safe until your task is over.”

She handed us the bags.

I looked at Caitlin who seemed surprised at this move.

Somewhat reluctantly, I reached over and picked them up. I gave one to Caitlin and then reached into my handbag and pulled out my purse.

I’d just about gotten used to having one and now it looked like I was going to lose it.

I shrugged my shoulder and stuffed it into the bag.

As I rummaged around in my handbag I glanced over at Caitlin. She was doing the same but with just about the same enthusiasm as me.

When I was done, I handed over the bag.

ACC Bishop remained expressionless.

“Your handbags please,” she asked holding out her hands.

“Eh?”

I need to make sure there really isn’t anything left. You should know from your deep undercover training course that even one little mistake can come back to haunt you.

We handed over our bags over for examination by ‘Godzilla’.

She found a few crumpled shop receipts in Caitlin’s bag but otherwise they were clean.

“Good. Now for your new identities.”

She handed us each a manila folder. On top of each was a new purse. They looked far too new for my liking but there I no real choice in the matter.

“I took the opportunity yesterday to make a few calls and these came an hour or so ago.”

“Take these and read them, read them again, and again until they are solid. Test each other on them until you are perfect.”

We took them. My heart was certainly rather heavy.

She also returned to us the cash that we had on us.

“Now for tomorrow morning. I have arranged for both of you to get kitted out for the assignment. Your appointment is at this address. It is set for ten sharp so don’t be late.”

That was it. We were dismissed. Well almost.

As we walked out the door, Godzilla said,

Your new address is in the front of the folder. We will take a few things from your homes and leave them there at the right time. Don’t go home anymore until this is over. The briefing you will get tomorrow will explain everything.”

Then with a smile on her face she said,
“Bear with us on this. Some of the details of your cover stories were only worked out an hour or so ago. Your new home will need to appear to be rented by you so it if appears a bit chaotic or a bit ‘seat of the pants’ then the reality is that it is just that. Please don’t go to your new home until you meet the letting agent there. All part of setting the scene.”

We turned and looked at her both of us had our mouths wide open.

“What about my things?” protested Caitlin.

“Your ‘things’ as you put it will be put into storage until this is all over. They will be safe.”

I wasn’t prepared for this.

Then she added,

“However, I’m afraid that you will have to find somewhere to stay tonight.”

Caitlin was quick off the mark.

“And naturally, the Met won’t be footing the bill?”

She didn’t answer.

Then Caitlin added,

“What about our clothes? Are we supposed to keep wearing these until tomorrow?”

Again, ACC Bishop didn’t answer.

I was standing there giving a good impression of a drowning fish but Caitlin grabbed my hand and almost dragged me from her office.

“What are you doing?” I protested as she pulled me towards the lift.

“We have been cast adrift. So, let’s go where things that get cast adrift eventually end up.”

Despite my protestations, she wouldn’t let on as to where we were going.

It didn’t take long before I realised where we were going.

-

An hour and a half later, we were walking along the Brighton seafront heading for the ‘Old Ship Hotel’. Caitlin had called them from London Victoria Station before we took the train south. She’d called in a few favours from her time in ‘Vice’ before she’d become my partner.

We duly registered as a Ms & Ms Smith and after freshening up we went shopping. We had nothing. No identities, no credit cards and very little cash. Thankfully, Caitlin’s ‘friend’ at the hotel had stumped up a ‘monkey’ (£500.00) as a loan.

Once we had our room, we hit the shops and bought a complete change of clothes each as well as toiletries and well as enough makeup that could probably cater for the whole of the Brighton T-Girl community.

As we watched the sun go down from the Palace Pier eating a ‘fish supper’, both of us that a felt a big weight had been lifted from our shoulders.

Caitlin turned to me and said,

“Well lover. Don’t you think it is time we really got to know each other? This deep cover thing we are about to embark upon means that we have to be really convincing.”

As was her norm, she didn’t wait for me to answer; she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me with passion. After a while, I responded.

---

We were by no means fully up to speed with our new identities when we took the train back to London the following morning. The train was packed with the last of the morning commuters, most of whom were probably thinking about the weekend ahead. We were thinking much more short term. Not the next few days, more like the next few hours.

Our destination was an unmarked blue painted door deep in ‘TheatreLand’, just off Shaftesbury Avenue for those not acquainted with the area.

I pressed the bell and waited.

A few seconds later we heard the lock being released and a buzzer announced that we were cleared to enter.

There wasn’t much behind the door apart from some stairs. We climbed them up to the second floor where a door was open.

“Hello?” I said slightly nervously.

“Come on in. We don’t bite,” came a voice from within.

We entered the room.

“Come on in. Take your coats off and take a seat. I’ll be out in a minute,” said the mysterious voice. It was coming from another room.

We did as we’d been instructed.

Then the owner of the voice appeared.

“Hello. I’m, Max.”

Max was in his early 40’s and at first glance, he was one of those people who would disappear into a crowd and you wouldn’t notice. However, Max would get noticed. He was in a wheelchair and it was obvious that his legs were missing below the knees.

He saw us looking at him and his legs.

He smiled.

“IED in Afghanistan I’m afraid. Blew one clean off and the other got infected so the medics completed the job.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was all part of the job. Still. Now I get to help you guys. I actually enjoy this more than the Army.”

“You said ‘helping’? How exactly?” asked Caitlin.

“Making sure you are word perfect in your cover and all the things that people tend to forget when they go undercover. Covert Ops for non-military people, is what I do.”

He smiled at us before saying.

“That is all in the future. Now the important thing is for both of you to have your ‘make overs’. If both of you go upstairs the delightful Maurice and his team will work their magic on you. I’ll rustle us up some lunch.”

The ‘delightful’ Maurice and his assistant Charlotte spent the next three hours working their ‘magic’ on the pair of us.

The result was to put it bluntly, dramatic. I now sported shoulder length bright red hair. When I say bright, I mean ‘Day-Glo’ bright just like all the other victims. Caitlin’s hair was now jet black, below the shoulder and with a fringe that almost fell into her eyes. Ample eye makeup and quite a bit of bling made her look very different.

We returned downstairs to find Max dishing up something that smelt fantastic.

“Ah good. You are back.”

He swivelled his chair to look at us.

“Oh my, don’t you two look different from when you came in? A definite improvement if you ask me...”

He smiled.

“Please sit down and tuck in before it gets cold. We don’t stand or sit on ceremonies around here.”

We sat down and Max opened the dish that contained the delightful smelling food.

“Pasta with Chorizo and Scallops. I made the sauce myself. Help yourself to the bread. I didn’t make it. That comes from the Italian Bakery on Sicilian Avenue.”

Over lunch Max outlined his role in our undercover work.

“My associates will follow you to and from work. All the other victims had disappeared on their way home from work or when they went out in the evening.”

“Hold on a minute. Work? What about it?” Asked an incredulous Caitlin.

Max looked surprised.

“Eh? The details should be in the information you were given yesterday?”

I looked at her. We both shook our heads.

“We received no such information like that. All we received were basic backgrounds and backstories. But the ACC said that things were still being worked out. I guess this was one of them?” I stated as Caitlin started to dig inside her bag for the folder we’d been given the previous day.

She dumped it on the table.

“Look for yourself. It is not there.”

Max held up his hand.

“Ok. I believe you. It looks like someone who should know better is trying to make this operation fail before it starts. The job situation was sorted out really early in the operation. We passed the job details over to your people yesterday morning.”

He looked hard at the two of us.

“That is not going to be good for my organizations credibility and reputation. So why don’t we get all of us singing from the same hymn-sheet and then we can move forward. I’ll take it up with Ms Godzilla myself at a later date.”

He smiled.

I felt relieved. I nodded my head.

“Good. That’s settled. Down to work then, we have a lot more to cover than I’d envisaged.”

He turned to Caitlin.

“Caitlin, could you be a darling and clear the table. Someone with some legs would do it a lot quicker than me.”

“I’ll help,” I added and the two of us set to and cleared the table of the remains of Lunch.

---

A few minutes later we all sat around the table looking at the new information.

“Caitlin, or rather Mary, you will be working at 61 Berwick St. That is just off Oxford St.”

I couldn’t stop myself from giggling.

“What’s so funny, TAMARA?” asked Mary using my new name.

“Does it say what sort of business it is?”

They both scanned the document.

“No? Why?”

I was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Before I joined the Squad, I was as you know a beat officer. I worked in two districts. One in Rotherhythe and the other was West End Central. One on my first assigned beat for West End Central covered most of Soho. 61 Berwick St is a Sex Shop. We raided is a good number of times and eventually found the brothel at the back. It is probably a clean place now but this is going to be fun especially with your Irish Catholic background.”

Caitlin or rather Mary gave me a really hard look. One that in former times would have been enough venom to kill a battalion of soldiers. Then she grinned.

“Not all of us Catholics are straight laced and constipated virgins you know. The amount of pornography that was going around our Girls school was… well, incredible. I’ll get used to it besides, it is not going to be forever now is it?”

Max grinned.

“Right, now Tamara. Your job is also in the area”

The smile disappeared from his face.

“The other victims were all office workers, just normal run of the mill office workers. The only thing in common the boffins can find is that they often took over the reception at their offices during lunchtime or when others were off ill or on holiday. Tamara, you are working as assistant receptionist at a busy office on the other side of Oxford St.”

He consulted the documents.

“A firm of Architects in Wells St. Not far from Caitlin, sorry Mary. You can meet up for lunch. That would be a good move. Makes you more visible as a couple, doing couple related things.”

We spent almost two hours going over our new identities. Max grilled us like a skilled interrogator. I wondered what branch of the armed services he was in before Afghanistan. Then I realised that it would probably be better if I didn’t ask.

“Now onto where you are living,” said Max changing the subject.

“I understand it was your insight Tamara that led us to identify the link between the victims. As a result, we have agreed to rent a flat for you both not far from East Finchley Tube. However, to make the story look good, the Agent will meet you and show you the place as if you are seeing it for the first time, which of course you will be.”

Mary was quick off the mark.

“So, we won’t be staying there tonight?”

“Unfortunately, not. Do you have somewhere to stay?”

“We spent last night in Brighton. I suppose we could go back?”

Max surprised me again.

“No. That won’t be necessary. I’ll make sure you have somewhere.”

He gave us a smile that I recognised as saying ‘I have a solution but I’m not going to tell you yet’.

---

At the end of the day Max surprised us yet again.

“I expect both of you are rather tired by now. I know how hard it can be to absorb so much information in such a short time. You both have one more thing to do before we call it quits for the day.”

We both looked at him expectantly as he pressed a few buttons on his mobile phone.

“Don’t worry, this is a pleasurable task. We are going to Kensington Town Hall. I’ve booked you into a room at a nearby hotel but in order to make your cover story complete, there is one formality to do.”

I knew what he was talking about. I looked at Mary and she looked nonplussed.

“What are we going to wear?” I asked.

“Wear? What for?”

I grinned at her.

“To get married, well a civil partnership.”

“What?”

“No. No way. Never.”

I sighed.

“But darling, you know the story. We are a lesbian couple. Anyone checking our backgrounds will see that we have tied the knot so to speak”.

Mary glared at me. Then slowly a smile appeared on her face.

“As long as I can wear white!”

Max burst out laughing.

“You two are really going to make a good couple. You two are way more convincing than any of the others who have been through this sort of thing.”

“What do you mean, others?” asked Mary.

Max looked rather sad.

“One previous pair didn’t make it out the other side. Not on this case I hasten to add.”

I didn’t like the sound of this.

“What do you mean ‘didn’t make it out the other side’”

Max lowered his eyes and gave a big sigh.

“We were after a ring of drug smugglers. Unfortunately, the team we put inside got a bit too hooked on the product. One died of an overdose of some really pure smack. The other killed herself by walking in front of a Tube train because she couldn’t accept the guilt of her partner OD’ing. As a result, many of the powers that be have been rather reluctant to sign up to new operations of this type.”

“That explains a lot,” I remarked.

“What did you mean ‘make a good couple’?” asked Mary bringing the conversation back to matter in hand.

I don’t know if it was my imagination or did Max just go a little red in the face.

“What I meant was…”

We both looked at him earnestly.

“Sod it. It seems to me that you two are made for each other.”
Then he looked at me.

“Haven’t you fucked her yet? It is obvious that you fancy her.”

I was speechless. Mary was very red in the face.

“Why don’t you get it over and done with. Then you can get on with the task in hand? Tonight, will be the ideal opportunity. The newly married couple and all that?”

“What if we say no?” argued Mary

“No to what?” responded Max.

“Getting hitched,” replied an indignant Mary.

Max looked serious as he replied.

“Look. You both know as well as I do that realism is the key to this sort of operating being a success. Yes, we could falsify the records but there are things missing. Photos and records of a reception and memories of people at the Town Hall. In the past it would have worked but in this day of Facebook, Instagram and the like we have to go a lot further to make everything seem real. By doing it for real then there are no holes to be found. Holes mean risks.”

Then he smiled,
“However, from what I’ve seen today, there is more than just being work partners between the two of you. I can sense an attraction between you two even though you might be fighting it at the moment. All I’m saying is that you should consummate the relationship before it gets in the way of the operation.”

I was stunned. I’d never thought of Mary let alone Caitlin in that way before. I was sure that she was the same.

I looked at Mary. Her mouth was doing the drowning fish impression. I knew that she was trying hard to hide her feelings again. What was confusing me was that I wasn’t sure which way they were with respect of me and what I wanted for my long term future.

Max cut my deliberations short.

“If we don’t make a move soon then we won’t make the ceremony and the two of you will have to wait until tomorrow to get hitched.”

“We?” asked Mary.

“Yes we. I’m your best man.”

“But how… how will you get down to the street from here? Those stairs are pretty difficult for someone in your position?”

Max laughed.

“A few service buddies fixed up a lift for me out the back. Get all your stuff and we can get going?”

I looked at Caitlin, or rather Mary Murphy as she now was for help. She appeared as confused as I was but she wasn’t showing it.

As she was giving me no sign, I reluctantly started to pick up my things.

“Where are we supposed to stay tonight?” asked Mary in a strangely quiet voice.

Max did a ‘U’ turn in his wheelchair and said smiling,

“That is my little surprise. Think of it as a wedding present from me.”

Despite our repeated questioning, he wouldn’t divulge any more.

We soon realised that Max didn’t do things by halves. The lift that had been knocked up by some friends was out of this world. I had to wonder if he had planning permission for it.

The exit of the lift went right onto a tail lift for his SUV. Before we’d got strapped in, he was ready to go. The vehicle had been converted to hand controls and the lack of a driver’s seat would make it difficult if not impossible for anyone else to drive.

The next surprise was that the SUV was electric. With hardly a noise, we glided out of the courtyard and onto Shaftesbury Avenue. It had to be a custom conversion from a Petrol or Diesel vehicle. To be honest, I was trying to think of anything but what was going to happen not that far in the future. ß

As we passed the Royal Albert Hall, I glanced over at Mary. She was looking out of the window deeply engrossed in her own thoughts.

The enormity of what we were going to do was really starting to hit home. I cleared my mind of bad thoughts just like I’d been taught to do when facing an opponent on the Tae-Kwon-Do mat.

Two friendly faces were waiting for us when we arrived at the Town Hall. They belonged to Maurice and Charlotte.

“Come on you two we only have half an hour to get you ready,” said Maurice as he grabbed my arm and led me inside.

Before we could take a breath, we were sat down in a couple of chairs and they started working on our makeup.

When they were satisfied, Maurice commanded,

“Ok, now for your wedding dresses.”

With great aplomb and as if they were launching a transatlantic liner, they opened two garment bags to reveal two similar but not quite identical white wedding dresses.

Well, they were white and we were going to wear them for the ceremony but they were not my idea of a ‘proper wedding dress’ but they would have to do.

When I saw Mary in her dress I changed my mind. She looked fantastic. The contrast of her jet-black hair and the brilliant white of the dress made her look fantastic.

“You look good,” whispered Mary as we walked out the door together.
“So, do you,” I replied as I took hold of her hand.

I wanted to do more at that moment but I chickened out. I would just have to console myself in those words. Some had made a positive comment about how I looked for the first time. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops I felt so happy.

Max was waiting for us outside the room where the ceremony was going to take place. He’d gotten changed for the occasion and was wearing a very fetching black ‘DJ’. He’d even put on some ‘feet’ Well at least there was a pair of shoes sticking out from the bottom of the trousers.

His beaming smile said everything we needed to know.

“I take it you approve then?” asked Mary.

“Hey, it is not often that I get to give away a pair of lovely ladies. In my line of work, I am normally dealing with men who are infiltrating some really bad crime gangs. I think working with you two is going to be interesting, very interesting indeed.”

As if a stage director had cued it, the door to the room opened and a female official greeted us.

“The registrar is ready for you now.”

As we filed in, she whispered to Max,

“Don’t take all night, I want to get home to watch ‘Corrie’.”

Max chuckled.

Before I could take a breath, we were standing in front of the Registrar.

“Welcome to our place of ceremonies. I have all your declarations and they are in order.”

He glanced down at some papers on the desk in front of him.

“I see that you have opted for ceremony ‘B’. If you are ready, shall we begin.”?

He turned to Mary and gave her a card.

“Please read the card”.

I looked at her. She looked nervous.

She swallowed and began.
“I Mary Patricia Murphy hereby pledge to share my life openly with you Tamara Jane Edwards. From this moment on I ask you to be with me on our journey, to share our dreams, go forward together and to be my companion along the way.”
She handed the card back to the Registrar.
She handed me another card.
“I Tamara Jane Edwards take you Mary Patricia Murphy to be my civil partner under law. I make this pledge freely, with honesty and sincerity and with a commitment that will grow deeper and stronger as the years pass.”
“Thank you,” said the registrar as I handed him back the card.
“Do you have the rings?”
I realised that we’d forgotten all about them. Then I felt a hand on my arm.
I turned and saw a big smile on Max’s face.
He handed me two rings. I gladly took them and handed one to Mary.
Then I remembered the other words that I had been printed on the card.
“I give you this ring as a token of my love and a sign of the promises I make to you today.”
I slipped the ring onto her finger.
Mary took my cue and repeated the words
“I give you this ring as a token of my love and a sign of the promises I make to you today.”
Then she slipped the other ring onto my finger.

The registrar then drew the proceedings to a close.

“I duly pronounce you a registered civil partnership.”

We looked at each other and hesitated.

I guess we were both thinking the same thing, ‘should we kiss each other’.

We both made the decision at the same time.

We kissed or rather our faces met but our lips didn’t quite mate as supposed. In the end they did and we kissed.

When we were done and the formalities completed we all left the Town Hall together.

Once outside, Max got himself into his SUV, we waited outside a little unsure

“Come on. Get in. You are not done yet.”

We’d hardly got inside before he was off down the street.

“What’s the rush?” asked Mary.

“There is a table for dinner for you two that is booked in just over an hours time. We need to get you there then, you need to get changed and ready.”

The set of lights in front of us changed just as we approached.

“That is if I can get you to your hotel in time,” he said with more than a tinge of frustration.

“Where are we going for this dinner?”

“The Langham.”

“Hey. Hold on a minute. We can’t afford the prices they charge even for afternoon tea, let alone Dinner.”

“It is on the house,” replied Max.

“Let’s say, it is repayment to me for some services rendered in the not too distant past.”

Mary was about to say something but I stopped her. I didn’t think it prudent to ask any more questions at that moment.

---

Max dropped us off outside the hotel not long afterwards.

“You are in room 410. Here is the key-card. The concierge who is doing this for us will help with any issues. His name is Gary and is one of the good guys.”

He handed Mary an envelope that probably contained the key.

“Have a good evening. Tomorrow you get down to business for real. A car will pick you up at ten to take you to Finchley.”

“Thanks Max. You are a star,” remarked Mary.

“No love, I’m just a fixer. I get things done in ways that if I were to tell you, I’d have to kill you on the spot.”

We were both laughing at his joke we got out of the car.
Then before we could take stock, he was away leaving us standing outside one of the best hotels in London in our wedding clothes.

I looked at Mary and said,

“Well partner, how about we enjoy our evening in the lap of luxury. I hardly think we will be able to afford a place like this…. afterwards on our pay, now will we?”

A smile came over her face.

“Are you propositioning me?”

“Well yes partner I am doing exactly that…”

Mary gave me the same laugh as she’d done many times as Caitlin. The laugh she reserved for the not infrequent times I put my foot in it.

“Ok. That was a bad idea then.”

“No. I think it is a great idea besides, I’m getting hungry.”

Back in the days when we were part of the ‘Squad’, Caitlin had gained the nickname ‘Dustbin’ due to the huge amounts of food she could consume and never put on an ounce in weight.

“Come on then lets’ go find our room,” I suggested.

I took hold of her hand and tried to walk nonchalantly into the hotel, through the foyer and to the lifts. We had only gone a few steps when we ‘legged it’.

As we did so, I felt every eye in the place was following us. If they were, it would not have been surprising as our brilliant white dresses gave us away in an instant. Still, we made it to our room without being stopped, propositioned or otherwise delayed.

Mary closed the door with a bang and we collapsed onto the bed laughing.

As our laughter subsided, I looked around the room. Our cases were there just as Max had promised.

I rolled over and looked at Mary. She was lying there with her eyes closed.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” I said quietly.

Right on queue her stomach gave out a loud rumble.

She opened her eyes and smiled.

“Why don’t you ring down for room service, I really don’t want to move.”

I smiled back.

“No chance. Do you think I’m going to pass up being waited on in a place like this and order room service? And on a day like today?”

“Oh well, I suppose….”

[to be continued]

Dinner more than lived up to its promise. I ate some Cornish Lobster that was out of this world. Mary, on the other-hand played safe and ordered a ‘Rack of Lamb’. This was all washed down with some of the best wine I’d ever had. Mary just licked her lips as she savoured each glass.

As the meal wore on, my mind turned to the task ahead.

“The last week or so has really been a rollercoaster. Did you ever think we’d end up here?” I asked Mary after our dessert plates had been taken away.

Mary as ever brought the scene down to earth with a bang.

“Well, if we don’t catch this monster then we will have an awful lot of egg on our face.”

She looked at me before continuing,
“But to answer your question. No, I didn’t but there again, you have never been exactly conventional in your approach to anything in the time I’ve known you.”

Then she leaned over and took hold of my hand.

“For quite a while, I wondered if you were gay. It was nice that you never hit on me. Just about everyone in the squad has hit on me but you never did. Now I know why.”

Her eyes dropped to look at the table.

“I’m sorry for doubting you, when… when you told me that you were a transsexual, I could not believe it. Seeing you now… living as a woman… It is as if a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders.”

I squeezed her hand. She looked up at me again.

I mouthed the words ‘Thank you’ to her.

She repaid me with a huge smile.

---

The bed was so comfortable that I really did not want to move. Mary was snoring gently beside me and everything seemed to perfect with the world.

Eventually, the call of nature became too hard to ignore. As I headed for the bathroom, I glanced at the clock. Oh Shit!

As I relived myself, I called out,

“Mary, Caitlin, get a move on. We have to be downstairs in half an hour.”

There was no sound of any movement from the bedroom.

When I’d finished in the bathroom I rushed back into the bedroom and shook Mary.

“What’s the matter? Is the Hotel on fire?” mumbles Mary.

“We are being picked up in thirty minutes.”

She sat up with a jerk and right into my face. I took her movement right on the end of my nose.

“Ow! That’s my nose!”

“I’m sorry,” said Mary as she comforted me.

“I’m ok. We have to get moving.”

“Sod it. The driver will have to wait.”

“No. We need to get moving. As you were so keen to remind me last night, today is where we start work. We must not be late on our first day eh?”

Mary took my head in her hands and looked me in the eye.

“Aye-aye boss.”

Then she kissed me.

Before I could react, she was gone and into the bathroom. She’d done it again…

---

In the end and after a lot of faffing around, we were only a few minutes late leaving the hotel and getting into the mini-cab.

As we headed north into Camden Town, I took hold of Mary’s hand. I looked at her and smiled. She smiled back at me.

Then I sat back and relaxed. I was ready for the task ahead.

The cab took us to our new home where Mr Roberts, the letting agent was waiting for us.

“Mr Roberts?” asked Mary as we got out of the cab.

“Yes. That’s me. Come on inside out of this rain.”

We all went into the flat. As we walked inside, I stopped dead. It was unfurnished.

“Is there something wrong?”

“I… I just thought that the place was furnished.”

Mr Roberts looked concerned.

“I thought you knew? It is unfurnished. I’m sorry if you were misled on the matter.”

I looked at Mary who looked back at me somewhat puzzled.

“What shall we do?”

“Call Max?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

I started to dig in my handbag for the phone that Max had so thoughtfully given me the previous day.

I thumbed through the contacts list for ‘Maxine’ and pressed dial.

As it started to ring, I heard a vehicle pull up outside but I didn’t think much of it.

Then ‘Maxine’ answered.

“This is she,” I said into the phone.

“Just a little one. You didn’t tell us that the place was unfurnished.”

“Oh. I see. Perhaps they are already here. I did hear a car or something pull up just now.”

“Ok. I will. Thanks”

I hung up and looked at Mary.

“Apparently my furniture is being delivered this morning.”

“Your furniture!” remarked Mary.

Then she saw the look on my face.

“I thought we’d seen the last of that. You told me that we’d be getting something new to go with our new home?”

“So, did I but didn’t Maxine say that some things from my old home were going to be brought over here?”

Any further discussion was halted by a knock at the door.

Mr Roberts went and answered it.

He soon returned and said,

“Two men are here with your furniture. Can we get on with signing the lease?”

As the movers waited, we quickly signed the lease. I almost signed it with my old name but I just checked myself in time.

With the signed documents in his possession, Mr Roberts beat a hasty retreat much to my surprise. The reason for that was very evident as soon as we went outside.

The removers van was painted a bright pink and that the on the side was the words ‘Charles Grey and Partner, removers to the LGBT Community’.

I caught Mary having a little snigger as she saw the sign on the van.

We helped with the unloading of the van and spent the rest of the weekend trying to make the furniture from my old flat in Kensal Rise fit into the new and much smaller one. In the end, a good amount of ‘stuff’ got shoved into the much smaller second bedroom with a promise to sort it out later even though both of us really knew that it never would be.

As I moved yet another box into the ‘spare room’, I realised why Max changed the deal.

“I think I know why Max changed the deal.”

Mary looked at me with a puzzled look on her face.

“When a couple get together then isn’t it a bit unusual for them to have new everything? This seems more realistic. Well, that’s what I think anyway.”

Mary thought for a moment before replying,
“It does sort of make sense.”

---

Just after eight on the following Monday morning the two of us left the flat and walked hand in hand down the street to East Finchley Underground Station for our first real day undercover. Both of us tried hard not to look around to see if any of our watchers were following us. Max had told us that they would be there but we were to behave normally but it was hard.

As is the norm on a cold and slightly damp and wet Monday, the Tube was packed with slightly steaming bodies. One of the rules that had been drummed into us was that we should never run for a waiting tube. Right on our first day, we were presented with a train with its doors wide open as we reached the platform. I sighed as we stood aside and let other commuters run for the waiting train.

As we waited for the next ‘Charing Cross’ branch train I started to get a bit nervous. The bravado of previous day had long gone. Now I had to go and work in a business as a woman. It was essential that my new colleagues didn’t know my real sex or identity.

“A penny for them?” asked Mary.

“Sorry?”

She smiled.
“You were miles away.”

“I was thinking.”

“Well stop that and give me a kiss.”

I gave her a little giggle and kissed her trying not to notice the looks from our fellow travellers. At first, I thought that it was all part of the act but something about it and what Max had said to us when we were with him struck home. This was a very different person from the standoffish one that I’d been used to until just over a week ago.

The remainder of our journey to work went without incident. We walked along Oxford St with our arms wrapped around each other’s waist. When we got to the junction with Wells St and Berwick St, our paths to work we would have to go in different directions.

“Shall I see you for Lunch?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. Let’s see how things go today? First day in a new job and that… I’ll see you at home later.”

Then we kissed.

And kissed.

Until eventually we had to come up for air.

“Is every morning going to be like this?” I whispered.

Mary smiled back at me and replied,

“If you want it to?”

I didn’t answer but gave her a quick peck on the lips.

“See you later.”

---

By the time I’d walked the 100yds or so up Wells St to my new place of work, my stomach was churning. All sorts of questions were running through my mind when I reached my destination.

I stopped outside and looked at the imposing building.

I took a step forward and hesitated.

I looked at the door once more.

After a deep breath, I stepped forward and went inside.

There was a reception desk towards the rear of the quite palatial hall. I walked over and presented myself.

“Hello. My name is Tamara Edwards. I’m due to start work here this morning.”

The receptionist smiled at me and then proceeded to look at some papers.

“I’m sorry. I can’t seem to find you on my list. What position were you applying for?”

I smiled sweetly back at her.

“Not applying. Starting work. As a receptionist.”

The smile disappeared from her face.

She picked up the phone and punched in some numbers.

“Jayne. The new receptionist is here.”

“Yes. I’ll tell her.”

She put the phone down.

“You are early. You will have to wait. Please take a seat.”

I managed to stifle any reaction to her obvious taunt.

I did as had been instructed and sat down to wait.

I waited.

I waited.

After some 40 minutes, I stood up and went to the receptionist.

“Am I still early?”

She looked at me as if I’d just landed from another planet.

“Who did you say you are?”

“Tamara Edwards. My name is Tamara Edwards.”

“Oh yes here it is.”

I looked at her expectantly.

She wrote something on a slip of paper and handed it to me.

“Take this to the second office on the left on the 4th Floor.”

“Thank you.”

I took the lift up to the 4th floor. I found the office I’d been directed to. It was easy because it was labelled ‘Human Resources’.

I went it and saw two women working away.

“Hello. I’m Tamara Edwards. I was told to come here.”

“Hello Tamara. You are late. Not very good for your first day?” said the older of the two who from the sign on her desk was called Lynda.

I smiled back.

“I was here before nine. I’ve been sitting downstairs for the past 45 minutes.”

“We didn’t know. They should have called up to let us know.”

“She did. She called someone by the name of Jayne.”

They looked at each other.

Then they burst out laughing.

“There is no Jayne. I’m afraid you have been the subject of a practical joke. No harm done eh?” said the other one of them, called Samantha.

“Gloria is a bit of a practical joker. I should know, she’s my sister,” said Lynda.

With that out of the way, we got on with the formalities that everyone does when starting a new job. Luckily for me, Max and his team had done their job well. My backstory was all there waiting to be told when I was asked.

By lunchtime, I’d been shown the ropes of my duties. Gloria had apologised to me for leading me on. I soon found out that I was not the first person to suffer at the hands of her and her pranks.

I put it down to ‘newbie’ pranks. I remembered the ones I played when we had a rookie constable join the team.

The people I was working with turned out to be not a bad bunch in all. By the end of the day, I’ve started to get the hang of my duties. Luckily my training allowed me to remember a lot of what was said that otherwise, I’d be sure to have forgotten but the time I came to use it.

It was well past 6pm when I slipped off my ‘work’ heels and put on my trainers for the journey home. There was no way I could wear heels all day and stand for 30 minutes on the tube. Perhaps in time I might but at the moment, comfort ruled thank you very much.

When I got to the corner with Oxford St I wondered about going to look for Mary but decided against it. I know that at least one of Max’s team would be watching me even though at this stage in the operation it would be highly unlikely that I’d been noticed by the killer. Still it was reassuring to know that someone was watching out for me.

---

I’d just about finished preparing our meal for the evening when Mary arrived home. I sighed, as I would have like to have had a little sit down and relax before cooking for is both. I put on a brave face when she appeared.

“Hello darling. How was your day?”

To my surprise, she burst out laughing.

“What’s wrong?”

“You…. You sound like a wife greeting her husband home from the office. It just feels funny.”

I had to admit that is was a bit strange.

I couldn’t think of a witty answer so I just kissed her. The one thing about going deep undercover is that you have to live the life 24/7. Kissing her was rather nice so I didn’t mind in the slightest.

Over dinner we told each other about our day at work and the people we were working with. Just like a married couple.

At one point, I sat back with a grin on my face.

“What’s that smirk for?” asked Mary.

“It is just so nice to be sitting here with you.”

She smiled back.

“Me too. I like sitting here with me!”

It took me a second to comprehend what she’d said.

Then I reached over onto the couch and grabbed hold of a cushion. Thereupon I proceeded to hit her over the head with it until both of us collapsed onto the floor in laughter.

Our faces came together. Without thinking, I kissed her. Mary responded with a lot of tongue.

When we’d finished, I whispered,

“I love you.”

Mary didn’t say anything but a tear formed in her left eye. Then one in the right.

“What’s wrong? I’m sorry if I offended you” I said trying to get myself out of this hole that I appeared to be up to my neck in.

“No. You have not done anything wrong. I feel the same way about you. It is just that I never even gave a thought to being romantically involved with you… before… before all this came about. The thought of you being taken by that beast is sending shivers down my spine. I wish we could just stop this now, and go off somewhere together.”

I held her in my arms.

“Let’s just use this time together as best we can. We are not really playing at being a couple, are we?”

Mary didn’t object.

“What we are feeling towards each other right now was one of the issues that came up in the seminar wasn’t it. A sort of modified Stockholm Syndrome if I remember correctly. If we come out of this and can still stand the sight of each other we can talk about the future then and only then.”

I looked her right in the eye.

“Deal?”

She nodded her head. Whereupon, I kissed her again and with a passion that I didn’t know I had in me.

---

The days passed and turned into weeks. Well three actually. We had a weekly meeting with Max in the back room of a Café in Soho. Away from us, the trail had gone dead. Even the press had dropped the case from the front and even inside pages. We all knew that the time was fast approaching when if he was keeping to his schedule he’d strike within the coming 10-12 days.

Mary and I were now very close. Max noticed this at one of our meetings and remarked on it. He didn’t put it in his report to our bosses in the police. For this we thanked him a lot. We knew that if they were aware of our ‘real’ attraction for each other they’d pull us out in an instant.

I kept my appointments with my plastic surgeon. I’d pushed them up to once a week rather than fortnightly. My breasts were now just about a ‘B’ cup. Mary liked them but felt as I did that a little more would be perfect. It pleased me no end that she could spend hours playing with them in bed. Being in bed with someone else who had breasts was a new experience for her but she never tired of playing with them which didn’t bother me in the slightest.

Mary was really getting into working in the Sex Shop. After some initial reservations, she’d gone with the flow and started to bring a few ‘samples’ home for us to try out together. Apart from the obvious sex toys, she’d started wearing some very scanty nighties and to my total surprise, fishnet stockings to work.

One night, she paraded a suspender belt with eight clips. The eight clips were holding up a pair of barely black seamed stockings. There was no question, Mary looked ‘Hot’.

“Well, do you like it?”

“What do you think?”

The beaming smile on my face told her the answer.

“Could I buy one for you?”

“For me?”

I looked at her earnestly.

“Yes you.”

“But I don’t wear stockings. I’ve never worn them.”

Mary beamed.

“Now you can.”

Then she went to our undies drawer and pulled out some packages and tossed them to me.

“Everyday.”

The packages contained two belts and a dozen pairs of stockings.

“But….” I stuttered when I saw that they were seamed stockings.

“No if’s or buts.”

Then she came and kneeled down beside me and whispered in my ear.

“Part of your job is to look good. We have tweaked your clothes a bit. Your makeup is a lot better than when we started. Now for the final touch. Well, nearly.”

“What do you mean?”

Mary grinned back at me.

“Get used to the stockings first.”

No matter what I tried she wouldn’t reveal her plans. The bright side was that once I’d put the belt and stockings on we had the best sex I’d ever had.

Despite the wonderful sex, I didn’t wear stockings to work. I decided that I’d keep them for Mary. She on the other-hand was really coming out of her shell. When we were first teamed up, she’d hardly say boo to a goose. It took me several months to get her to open up even a little bit. Now, she was actually going a little too far for my liking but I wasn’t going to spoil her bit of fun as we both knew it wouldn’t last much longer.

I carried on going to work at the Architects and just being as normal as I could. Sylvia would often play one of her tricks on someone. She had this habit of setting it off and then disappearing off the face of the planet. That left me to take the flack, from those who’d been tricked.

The side effect of this was that it got me noticed by a lot more people in the company. Many (especially the women) commented on my choice of hair colour.

I was becoming rather attached to not only the length but the vibrant colour and was thinking about getting the roots done one afternoon when my phone went ‘beep’. Someone had sent me a text.

Mary often did that to let me know that she’d be late leaving work so I opened it up and read the message.

All it contained was a ‘smiley’. A hangman smiley.

There was no number available for me to answer it. I sat there for several minutes staring at the phone.

Sylvia interrupted me as she returned from her break.

“What’s the problem? Seen a ghost?” she asked jovially.

I didn’t answer but I showed her the phone.

“Is this one of yours? If it is then it is in very bad taste.”

Sylvia shook her head as she returned the phone to me.

“Not guilty. You should know my little jokes by now. That is not my style.”

That was true enough. As I sat there, I got more and more worried. In the end, I sent a coded text to Maxine.

“Maxine, are you being a bitch with your text messaging again?”

I hoped that he’d understand my meaning and get one of his associates to look into it.

Half an hour later, I got my answer.

“Not me darling. Fancy a drink or three after work? The normal place. Mines a Rum and Coke.”

Max was worried about it and wanted to meet. Or rather the lovely women who played Maxine in these meetings. Two women meeting for a drink after work was going to arouse far less suspicion with whoever sent the text than if I’d met am man in a wheelchair after I’d called him Maxine.

I couldn’t wait to leave work that evening and head to the ‘Northumberland Arms’ on Goodge St. I was so eager to leave that didn’t change out of my work heels as I normally did.

Maxine wasn’t there but that was not unusual. I ordered a white wine for myself and a rum and coke for her. I found a table towards the rear of the bar and sat down to wait for her.

She arrived some twenty minutes later. I stood up and we ‘kissed’ each other on the cheeks. I was getting used to this sort of greeting now.

“Sorry I’m late. My stupid boss made me get some pictures printed before I could leave. He knew I was eager to get away,” stated Maxine quite loudly.

That meant that Max had some pictures and I’d need to take a look at them.

“How did the wedding go?” I said changing the subject.
“Did you end up in that awful pink bridesmaids, dress?”

“Fuchsia Darling, Fuchsia,” replied Maxine hamming it up.

Her face dropped.

“I looked awful. Sack of potatoes is a close description.”

I smiled.

“Aren’t you going to show me then?”

She hesitated for a second. Then she opened her handbag and retrieved her iPad.

A few seconds later we were looking at her in an awful pink dress at a wedding.

“God that is hideous. What was the talent like?”

“Not bad,” she replied with a little smile on her face.

She flipped to another set of images.

“He’s particularly dishy,” said Maxine pointing to one of the pictures.

I looked at it and saw a man in his late forties. He just looked like any man you’d pass in the street without a second glance.

“So, he’s the one then? When are you going on a date?”

“I’m seeing him tomorrow. That’s why I wanted to tell someone. He’s so cool.”

This ad-libbing was proving a lot of fun.

Maxine put the iPad away and we spent the next twenty minutes talking about nothing in particular but everything but the man in the picture.

As we said our goodbyes outside the pub, reminded Maxine,

“Don’t forget to give me all the gory details of your date, now will you?”

“I won’t darling. Bye!”

I watched her head off into the darkness I tried to put the picture she’d showed me out of my mind. I knew I’d never seen him before so I felt a little relived but I was still concerned that things were coming to a head and I realised that I was well and truly out of my depth.

I picked up a copy of the Evening Standard from outside the tube station and intended to spend the whole of the journey to East Finchley with my head buried in it. There was fat chance of that as I’d just managed to squeeze onto the train that was waiting in the station.

As the door to the flat closed I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I was home at last.

I hung up my coat and kicked off my shoes and went in search of something to eat.

I walked into the kitchen and got the surprise of my life.

“Wha…”

Then it went dark.
[to be continued]

When I came around, I felt strange. At first I couldn’t understand what was happening or for that matter what had happened to me.

I soon realised that my hands were bound behind my back and my legs were tied together. I was lying on something hard and dirty.

Slowly I opened my eyes.

“Ah, you are awake,” spoke a voice from out of the shadows.

I moved my head towards the sound of the voice. A man was sitting on a chair looking at me. From my position on the floor, I didn’t get a good view of him but I knew straight away that it wasn’t the man in the picture that Maxine had showed me… Then I realised that I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious.

“Where am I?”

“Oh you don’t need to worry your pretty little red head about that. For the meantime, you are safe. Let’s leave it at that shall we?”

Then he stood up and left the room without saying another word. The sound of the key turning in the lock felt like a final nail in my coffin.

I remained where I was for several minutes waiting for the last of the fog in my head to clear.

When I felt halfway decent, and with a bit of effort, I sat up and looked at my surroundings. The words of the song from ‘Oliver’ somehow came into my mind. I was ‘reviewing the situation’.

It didn’t take me long to realise that I’d been taken due to my own foolishness. Instinctively, I’d leapt on the tube train rather than waiting for the next as I’d been instructed. It was my own stupid fault that I was here and it was up to me and me alone to get myself out of this predicament.

There wasn’t much to see in the room where I was being held. Four walls, a floor and a ceiling. One wall had a door in it and there was one chair in the middle of the floor. I scanned the room closely for any evidence of a CCTV camera. I couldn’t see evidence of a lens but even so, I was not going to take any chances.

I squirmed across the floor until I reached the chair. Then ever so gently, I pushed it towards the nearest wall. When it was up against the wall, I sat in front of the chair and worked my hands into the waist band of my skirt.

Thanks to Max and his team, all the clothes I had been wearing to work had a few little extras added. Sewn into the waistband of my skirt was a small blade and a lock-pick.

It took me a few minutes to work the already fairly lose sewing on the seam open with my fingernail. I was about to remove the blade when I heard a noise.

I froze stiff for a second. Then I removed my fingers from the waistband and tried to stuff my blouse back into place. Then I rolled over onto my side and as the door opened, I started to breath heavily.

The man walked into the room carrying a bottle of water.

“Ah. I see you have been trying to make yourself more comfortable.”

He came over and helped me into the chair. Then he opened the bottle and let me drink from it.

When I was done, he stood back and smiled.

“You are no doubt wondering why I’ve kidnapped you? And what I’m going to do with you?”

She smiled again.

“I know you don’t have any money and only that woman… Mary. Yes, that’s it Mary will be concerned at your disappearance. If she is a good girl she won’t report you missing for a day or so. That gives me plenty of time to do what I want with you.”

He walked around the room a bit more. As he did so, I studied him just as I had been trained to do.

I realised that I had seen him before. But I couldn’t quite place exactly where it was.

“You are a very special woman. Not what I’d planned for the centrepiece of my trophy cabinet but now that I think about it, you will be ideal.”

He looked at me as if he wanted me to ask him a question. When I didn’t he gave a little shrug and carried on.

“Well Tamara, I know all about you. I know all about that rather special thing you have between your legs.”

He watched my face drain of colour.

He smiled again.

“Please don’t be embarrassed. You are very good as a woman. To be honest, you are more of a woman than most of the other’s I’ve had in here. They just bawled their eyes out the instant they came around. Cutting their heads off was a blessing as it shut them and their blubbering up once and for all.”

“Others?” I said trying to sound concerned.

“Yes. You make a round baker’s dozen.”

This shocked me. We’d found only 7 bodies. That meant that there five others out there somewhere.

“You look shocked. That is good.”

“What did you mean Trophy cabinet?”

“Oh yes. That. I have a trophy cabinet. It used to contain football trophies. Now it contains a number of glass jars. In each of the jars, is a head and a pair of hands. You must have heard of possibly the second most famous painting in the world?”

He looked at me earnestly.

“No? No matter. I am referring to ‘The Scream’ by Edvard Munch. The woman has her hands at the side of her face and is screaming. Well, that is how all my trophies look. That is how you will look when I’m done.”

I felt sick to my stomach.

“You my friend are special. You will be pride of place because you are special. I will put your head and hands in the jar just like all the rest. But I think I’ll put your penis in your mouth. It will make a fitting finale to my escapade.”

My mouth was doing its drowning fish impression.

“Now don’t worry your pretty red head about it. I shall treasure the next two days for as long as I live.”

He saw the horror on my face.

“Yes my special friend you have two more days to live. In that time, you will get to know me and appreciate me.”

Tears started to form in my eyes.

“Don’t cry. You have one useful part to play in this world and that is to take my crimes into the History Books.”

I was crying now.

“I shall leave you know. I will be back in the morning. Get some sleep.”

He left me alone once more.

I sat still for some time trying to comprehend what he’d just told me.

The fact that he wasn’t or apparently wasn’t going to kill me for a couple of days made me sit back and consider my next action.

I couldn’t make up my mind what to do so I began to try to remember where I’d seen him before. After a while, it came to me. He’d told me that he used to be a footballer. I’d done my fair share of duties at football grounds at the weekend when I was in uniform. I couldn’t remember which club he played for but I did recall that he was sacked after a drug scandal. That was the last I’d heard of him. I was stumped.

I sat back and tried to reset my mind and put my need to use the toilet on hold.

For the next few hours I went over everything I could remember about the case and especially the previous victims. There was no way I could link him to any of them. Then I turned my attention to where I might be. Then it came to me.

His name was Daniel Carpenter. He’d been in and out of the Arsenal first team for a number of seasons until it was discovered that he was a Heroin addict. He’d been dismissed immediately. As he played for Arsenal, the north London connection was strong. I was probably in the cellar of his home somewhere in North London or close to it and close to one of the stations towards the end of the Northern Line.

I guessed that he had a job somewhere in central London and commuted to it by tube and that was where he’d seen me and all the other victims. The connections that I’d made right at the beginning had proved to be true or rather I was telling myself that it was right. Not that I could do anything about it at the moment.

I now turned my attention to getting out of this place. It was obvious that he could come back at any moment. I had to get out of my bonds and then get loose before tacking the door.

Thanks to my earlier efforts it was not difficult to retrieve the small blade from the waistband of my skirt. Cutting the cable ties holding my wrists together without dropping it or cutting my wrists was altogether another task.

After a bit of fiddling I managed to get the cable tie into a position where I could work on it. Then I began the delicate process of cutting the plastic bands that held my wrists together.

It seemed to take ages but eventually my wrists sprang free. I gently massaged them and looked at the damage. Thankfully, there were no serious cuts and there was hardly any blood flowing.

Then I turned my attention to my ankles. With both my hands free they didn’t take long to break free. As I did so, the opening lines of the Queen Song ‘Break Free’ came to mind. That famous video with Freddie and the band in drag had been one of my favourites as a child.

I soon put that out of my mind and spent the next ten minutes going through a series of Tai-chi exercises to get my blood flowing, and some of the stiffness out my body.

When I felt at least half human again, I went over to the door my ears straining to hear any sound coming from outside. Thankfully, there was nothing but silence.

A quick examination of the lock revealed that it was nothing very special and should only take a little time to pick with the pick that I quickly removed from my skirt.

As usual, I over estimated my lock picking skills but eventually I heard the sound I’d been waiting for, a resounding click, as it opened.

I stood up and breathed a sigh of relief. I even afforded myself a little smile at a job well done.

I put the blade and lock-pick back into the waistband of my skirt. Well, the skirt didn’t have any pockets so there was hardly anywhere else to put it now was there?

I listened at the door for any sounds coming from beyond. There were none so I gently opened the door. The sound my heart was making was deafening.

When I saw what was beyond, it almost stopped dead.

My mouth dropped open and my head sunk when I saw what was in front of me.

It was another door.

This was different in that it used a combination lock. Now I understood why he didn’t bother locking the other door when he was in the room with me. Even if I was fortunate enough to have overpowered him, I would still have to get past this second door in order to obtain my freedom.

Sadly, my pick was going to be useless for getting past this door.

I stood and pondered the problem before me for a few minutes. After a while I came up with one possible solution.

The lock had eight buttons. I wondered if he’d left traces of the operation behind.

I crouched down and looked closely at the surface of the buttons. As I examined them a smile began to form on my face. It didn’t take a degree in forensics to see that five of the buttons showed signs of both wear and the ‘oil’ we deposit from our fingers.

I tried to figure out the number of different combinations that five numbers could present. I soon gave up. Maths was never my strong point. Instead I began to try as many different combinations as possible.

The more combinations I tried without success, the more frustrated I became but I was determined not to be defeated.

Suddenly the latest set of numbers worked and the door was open.

With utmost caution, I opened the door and peered out. My assumption that I was in a cellar was correct. A set of stairs led up to a door with some soft orange light streaming in from somewhere beyond.

I was on edge as I crept up the stairs and into the light. The light was from a streetlight streaming on from outside. Beyond that, it was quite dark.

My stomach gave a big rumble. Lunchtime was an awfully long time ago.

I stood still at the top of the stairs and tried to get a mental picture of the hallway and the building in general. My ears were keen to pick up any sounds that might alert me to danger. Instead I heard the unmistakable sounds of someone snoring coming from upstairs. I mentally breathed a sigh of relief but I knew that I wasn’t out of the woods yet.

I was about to move towards the front door when I saw a small green light emanating from a box mounted on the wall. Shit. It was an alarm control panel and the solid light told me that it was armed.

I stepped carefully towards the alarm case and gently opened the door so that the streetlight shone on it.

It didn’t take long for me to recognise the type of system. Pressure switches and motion detectors plus a remote link to a monitoring company. All were pretty standard features for this type of system. My saving grace was that I knew that there must be a safe path from upstairs to the alarm panel in order to operate it. As long as I didn’t stray too far, I wouldn’t set the dam thing off.

Going out the door without setting off the alarm was going to be impossible so I began to search for a solution as to ‘what to do next’. Gradually, an idea started to form in my head. Memories of watching one of the ‘Home Alone’ films as a child came back to me.

I even afforded myself a smile as I looked around the hallway and realised that pretty well everything I needed was to hand.

Ten minutes later almost every tread on the stairs was completely covered with ‘stuff’. There were shoes, coats and all sorts of stuff that would impede someone charging downstairs in bare feet. I hoped that it would be enough to remove the height advantage he’d have on me coming from upstairs.

It was now or never. Time to set the alarm off.

I calmly walked towards the front door knowing that there was probably a pressure switch under the front door mat.

Sure enough, my first step onto the mat was enough to set the alarm blaring. Even though I’d been expecting it, I still almost jumped out of my skin.

With that done, I slipped back into the door to the cellar and hopefully out of sight to someone coming down the stairs.

I didn’t have long to wait. The shout of ‘Fuck’ was loud enough to be heard over the wailing of the alarm as he stood on something that gave way and he came crashing down the stairs on his backside.

I stepped out of the shadows and face him. He was cursing to himself as he tried to silence the alarm. His back was towards me so I took full advantage of the open target and kicked him right behind the knees.

He collapsed onto the floor. Strike one for me.

“You!” he cried as he saw me standing over him.

He tried to grab my legs. I didn’t hesitate to kick him again. This time where it would hurt him.

“Arggh. You bastard. I’ll get you for that.”

He was very persistent as he tried to get to his feet holding his crotch.

“No you don’t,” I shouted over the siren.

I followed it up with another kick. This time right on his exposed chin. His head went back and his body followed. There was an audible crack as his head hit the wall. He collapsed in a heap unconscious.

Less than a minute later he was tied up and immobile. I’d used three ties that had been hanging on a coat rack in the hall. There was no sign of him moving so I went in search of a phone. I soon found one in the kitchen.

I dialled ‘999’.

It didn’t take long for it to be answered.

“Yes Police please.”

After a slight pause another operator came on the line.

“Do you have the address where this call is being placed from?” I asked urgently.

“Good. Listen carefully. Get a message to the Operation Longwood team immediately. The killer lives at this address. The alarm is sounding so I’d expect a security company to be here soon. I need some backup.”

“Yes. I am a police officer, an undercover officer.”

I hung up the phone and went back into the hallway.

He was starting to stir.

“Just stay still unless you want another kicking. The police are on their way.”

He glared at me.

“I’ll sue you. Attacking me like this.”

I laughed.

“And how will you explain your use of a tazer on me then? What about you kidnapping me? And that bragging about how I’d be the latest victim to have their head chopped off and put in a jar. I really didn’t appreciate what you said you’d do to my penis. That was just not on.”

He moaned.

“Just stay where you are and you won’t get hurt again. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah I hear you.”

The alarm siren shut itself off just at that moment. My ears were still ringing but there was no mistaking the sound of a police siren approaching.

There was still the matter of getting the door open. I was pondering this when an idea came to mind.

“I wonder…”

I walked over to the alarm panel.

I pressed buttons 5,3,1,4,2 and then ‘Enable’.

The green light went out and a different one came on meaning that I’d switched the alarm off. I afforded myself a slight smile.

I turned back to him pleased as punch.

“You were careless. You were very careless when you used the same code for both locks. Tut-tut.”

He just glared at me.

I noticed the flashing blue lights of a Police Car arrive outside.

Feeling mightily relieved I opened the door for the police.

[End of part 6]

Before I could render a full explanation to the single officer in the first car, another Police car drew up at the house. Inwardly, I groaned when I saw the officer getting out of the driver’s side. It was none other than 'Ian 'I'm not one' Pratt. He was the class bully when I was at Hendon. His Sergeant's stripes shone brightly in the light from the porch.

He entered the hall and looked hard at me. Then he looked again before turning away to speak to his colleague.

“What is the problem Sadik?” he asked.

“We have this person here claiming to be an undercover police officer. She had only just started to explain why she's on our patch unannounced.”

“Who's this?” asked the Sergeant.

“This is an ex-Arsenal Footballer named Daniel Carpenter. He's lying where she put him apparently with some kung-foo. He's been screaming blue murder. Well he was until I told him that I'd kick him where it hurts unless he shuts up so that we can sort this out.”

“Very good constable. I'll take over from now on.”

“Sarge, there is something else.”

The Sergeant was getting interrupted. He'd probably been dreaming about knocking off and getting a bacon sarnie on the way home from his shift.

“Well, out with it?”

“She keeps trying to get us to call ACC Bishop.”

Ian Pratt didn't like this one little bit.

“Why?”

I tried to tell him

“It is because...”

“You shut the fuck up. If you speak out of turn again, I'll arrest you on the spot undercover officer of not. This is my crime scene and no jumped up biddy tells me what to do. Get it?”

I smiled back at him and decided to wind him up a bit.

“Yes, Mr Pratt. You always were like your namesake. I remember saying that several times when we were at Hendon together. You haven't changed one little bit.”

He almost exploded with rage. He came at me with fists flying.

I parried his left and right thrust. Several times he tried to land a 'haymaker' on me. I just ducked left and right. I didn't even try to right back.

“You could never lay a finger on me in unarmed combat could you Pratt?”

Then he realised who I was.

“Fuck you. You were always the class queer and now I know it for real,” he screamed.

Then he drew his baton and extended it.

His constable tried to stop him but was pushed aside.

“I'm gonna get you this time you fucking faggot and no one is going to stop me.”

He swung the baton and once again I sidestepped it. As it went past me, I grabbed it and pulled him forward. He lost his balance and ended up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs alongside Daniel Carpenter.

He sat up fuming.

“Constable arrest this faggot for assaulting a Police Officer.”

The Constable was far too busy on his Radio to obey.

“Two Three Two to Base. Urgent message for Ac Bishop.”

The control didn't believe him.

“Yes base. I am serious. I am calling at the request of an Undercover Officer. It is to do with Operation Marlin. Get her out of bed and to attend this scene pronto. You might like to get the Inspector to attend as well. Sergeant Pratt has gone mad and tried to assault the undercover officer.”

“You are toast Khan. I'll feed you to the pigs by the time I'm finished and we all know how Muslims hate anything to do with pigs,” roared the Sergeant as he tried to get to his feet.

I bent down and picked up his Baton.

I smiled at the constable.

“I was in the same class at Hendon at this idiot. He was the class bully. I was a little different then.”

“Don't listen to that faggot. It's a man in that getup just like you and I. Put the handcuffs on … on it.”

The constable shook his head.

“Not this time Sarge. You have gone too far. You are nothing more than a racist bigot. You are going to get… well, get what I and many other officers think you deserve. In my honest opinion, I saw you attack a fellow police officer who acted with considerable restraint.”

He smiled at me and pointed at his Radio. He'd been transmitting all the time. This was not going to be pushed under the carpet. I smiled back at the constable. He'd done exactly the right thing.

“Hey, what about me. She attacked me after breaking onto my house?” complained 'him'.

I kicked his legs to get his attention.

“You do not have the right to remain silent. Anything and everything you say will be taken down in evidence and may be used in court. I'm arresting you on suspicion of twelve counts on murder and the assault and kidnapping of a police officer. That is just for starters. I'll probably add assault with a deadly weapon, breaking and entering and multiple counts of kidnapping.”

He said nothing.

“Do you understand?”

He nodded his head.

I turned to the Constable.

“Sadik Isn't it?”

“Yes”

“DC Jamie Harris. Please to meet you. Thanks for your support.”

“My pleasure. Anyone who stands up to that bully is a good person in my eye.”

Sgt Pratt glared at both of us.

“I'll get both of you thrown out of the force for this.”

I stared back at the Sergeant for several seconds before telling him,

“Don't you realise what this guy has been doing? He's the tube murderer. I was to be his thirteenth victim and that's why I'm dressed like this. You come blundering in in your size fifteens and try to settle a personal score. If I have any say in the matter, it will be you who is asked to leave the force and Sadik here gets his justly deserved promotion to Sergeant.”

The last bit was just to wind him up. As with most bullies it didn't take much.

“I'll expose your filthy habit to the press. Dressing like some tramp? You are nothing more than some queer tranny faggot.”

“Are you recording all this Constable?”

He glared at Sadik.

Sadik smiled back.

“Yes. I've got everything.”

Before I could add anything, his radio burst into life.

“Base to Two Three Two.”

“Two Three Two here.”

“Message from AC Bishop. It reads. Well done. Be there inside an hour.”

I smiled broadly.

The radio carried on.

“The crime scene people are on their way. They have asked for you not to go messing the place up any more than you have to. Ok?”

“Understood Base. Is the Inspector coming?”

“He left as soon as he was called. He should be there soon.”

“Understood. Two Three Two out.”

“Thanks, Sadik, There is nothing more to do but wait.”

The killer tried once again.

“I demand to be allowed to call my lawyer.”

I glared at him.

“You will get your phone call once you are taken to the station and duly processed.”

Then I looked at Sadik.

“Where are we by the way? I was unconscious when I was kidnapped and brought here?”

“Just outside Barnet. On the road to Elstree.”

“Shit. How far out?”

“Not far. Why?”

“I know that about half way along that road the Met area ends and the Hertfordshire mob take over. After all I've gone through these past weeks, I don't want them to get all the glory.”

“No Sir, we are firmly in Met Land,” replied Sadik.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
- - - - - -

Three and a half hours later I finally got to tell my story to the ‘great and the good’ at Barnet Police Station. I didn't notice until I'd finished that Mary had slipped into the briefing room while I was telling my tale.

She came and hugged me long and hard when I'd finished. I felt relieved that she didn't try to kiss me. Not that I didn't want one but somewhere along the line, I'd picked up a cut lip and it was pretty sore.

When the meeting was over, ACC bishop took both of us aside.

She was grinning from ear to ear.
“I had my doubts at first but you two have really pulled it off.”

She shook our hands firmly.

“I didn't do much,” said Mary.

“Nonsense. You have played your role perfectly. No one could have asked for more.”

Mary blushed at the compliment.

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

Now she got serious.

“You will both need to make a formal statement before you leave. The PR people are trying to keep a lid on this until Mr Carpenter is formally charged. I don't think it will be long before reports that a male police officer posing as a woman nabbed the tube killer hits the media especially social media. We'll do our best to keep you both under wraps but it might not be possible. If you get hounded then give Max a call pronto. He'll get both of you somewhere safe. Understood?”

We both nodded our heads in confirmation.

“Good. Now I suppose that we should get Max's friend to start bringing you out of cover? After some well-deserved time off that is.”

Before I could think of the implications, I blurted out,

“Yes Ma’am. However, It is entirely likely that I will not be coming back to work as a Police Officer. If it is all the same to you, I'd rather like to keep this identity.”

Mary gave a sharp intake of breath.

“I take it that you knew nothing of this?” asked AC Bishop.

“No Ma’am. Not a thing.”

“Well then once you have made your statements and get out of this madhouse, I suggest you both have a long talk to each other. From the reports I have received, your relationship has gone quite a bit beyond just playing a deep undercover role. I'll give you a week. If I haven’t heard from you then I'll get Max to start extraction processes. Is that agreeable?”

“I'm sorry Mary. I wanted to tell you but I got nabbed before I could.”

I turned to our senior officer.

“Yes Ma’am. That will be sufficient.”

“Good. Now I'll get an officer to begin to take your formal statements. It should be a slam-dunk case but you never know. He's got a lot of explaining to do to get out of the fact that we found the heads and hands of his victims in his home. I'd expect that the Crime people will be there for a few days gathering evidence but, in my opinion, we already have more than enough evidence to charge him and deny him bail.”

“Ma’am?”

“Yes? What is it?”

“I messed up… When I was going home. I forgot standing orders and jumped on the first tube. I didn’t wait for my tail to catch up. That’s why I was nabbed.”

ACC Bishop to her credit didn’t chew me off a strip there and then.

“I guessed as much. The report I received from Max hinted at it. However, it all turned out ok didn’t it?”

“Ma’am?”

“We got lucky… Or rather you got lucky and we got a result. Between us, I see no need to mention this bit of your story again.”

Then she smiled at us.

“Understand?”

“Message understood Ma’am,” I said feeling mightily relieved.
- - - -

It was nearly three in the afternoon before we emerged from the Police station. The fresh air felt good. The suspect had been taken to Edgware Road Police Station which thankfully was the focus of the press's attention. To our immense relief, there were no TV Crews or Photographer with impossibly long lenses 'shooting' everyone who left the station.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

Mary took hold of my hand and smiled.

“Full English at a place that serves them all day then home and bed. We can talk tomorrow. Until then, I want to spend at least eighteen hours lying in bed with you.”

I kissed her, long and hard.

“That sounds like a good idea.”

As we walked away from the Station, I glanced back to see at least 20 faces watching us from its windows. I felt happy for the first time in a long time. For me at least, there was no going back.

- - - -

We didn't discuss my or rather our future for two days. It just seemed that both of us wanted to be with each other and enjoying each other’s company. In the end, we were watching some inane game show on daytime TV when I brought up the subject of our future.

“I'm sorry for blurting that out without telling you, about not going back to work and stuff.”

Mary gripped my hand tightly.

“That's all right. You'd been through a lot and weren’t thinking properly. Now that I've had time to think, what you said was probably not unexpected for you.”

I gave her a little kiss.

“Thank you,” I said.

“I suppose it is up to me to decide If I want to join you or go back to being a Police Sergeant. I've been thinking a lot about this...”

Before she could carry on, my phone rang.

I thought about ignoring it. Only a handful of people knew this number so I guessed that it might be important.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

I grabbed the phone and looked at the caller ID. It was Max.

“Hi Max. What's up?” I said trying to sound happy.

I listened intently, the smile on my face draining away as he spoke.

“I understand. We can be ready in five minutes. Is that ok?”

“Good. Thanks for giving us the heads up.”

I hung up the phone and stood up. I pulled Mary up from the sofa.

“That fucking Sergeant Pratt or rather someone acting for him has spilled the beans to the press including, our address. Apparently, they are on their way here en-masse. We need to decamp pronto. Max is sending a car for us right away.”

“Shit!” exclaimed Mary.

“Max said that we need to get out of here before they arrive. Just grab the bare essentials. We have five minutes before we will be picked up. Max will let us know when they are outside.”

In our relationship, Mary was the slob and I was the person who came behind her and tidied up. Not that night. The place soon looked as if a bomb had hit it by the time we'd packed a few things into whatever bags were at hand.

As we caught our breath, I put the light out and peered out into the darkness. It all seemed quiet outside. The words 'the calm before the storm' went through my mind.

Just then my phone bleeped. A text message had arrived.

It said simply,

“60 secs.”

I showed it to Mary. She just nodded and picked up her bags.

We 'legged it'' out of the flat only stopping to make sure that the door was locked shut.

As we stepped outside, the same van as we'd used to move us in, pulled up outside. The side door slid open.

“Quick get inside,” said a voice.
I recognised it as belonging to one of Max's 'associates.

We literally dived inside and without delay, the door was shut with a slam and we took off up the street. The floor of the van was covered in some old mattresses.

As the van left the street we all breathed a sigh of relief as there was no sign of the press hot footing it to our nor former place of residence. We'd managed to escape probably by the skin of our teeth.

I began to doubt what Max had said when my phone bleeped again.

It was a text from Max. The message was just a URL of an article on one of the 'Red Top' newspapers. I clicked on it and waited.

Slowly the page appeared. Max had not been fibbing. Our secret was out. A Met ‘Insider’ was spilling the beans. The details that were in the paper left me in no doubt that it was Ian Pratt. He gave details that even the people in Barnet ‘nick’ didn’t know.

I showed it to Mary. She groaned when she read the description of her. They really done a number on her as well as me.

I closed up the phone and called out to the driver.

“Where are you taking us?” I asked.

“Surrey,” came the curt reply.

“Where in Surrey?”

“I don't know. I'm just following directions. Should take about ninety minutes or so at this time of night, traffic permitting.”

It was my time to groan. I sat back and held Mary.

After nearly two hours and many twists and turns we pulled up at a house 'somewhere in deepest Surrey’.

Our companion in the back who'd hardly said a word during the whole journey suddenly leapt into action. He slid open the door and started extracting our bags from the van. We took the hint and got out.

Before I could ask what next or anything, he'd leapt back into the van and it was off leaving us standing there in the bright moonlight.

A house in darkness was our only choice of somewhere to go.

I walked up to the door and looked for a bell. There was nothing except for a large metal knocker.

I used it. The sounds echoed inside the house. It seemed loud enough to wake the dead.

At first there was silence. Nary the sound of an owl to break it.

I was just about to try again when a light appeared from a room at the back of the house.

I stepped back from the door fully expecting it to open with a creak and a crusty old butler saying 'you rang?'.

I couldn't have been more mistaken. It was Lady Hamilton. The wife of Sir Richard, the man in charge of the Architects where I'd been working. I’d seen her a few times when she’d visited him at work.

“Ah good you are here. Please come in. Richard is driving down from town and should be here soon. Please let me help you with your bags.”

We picked up our meagre belongings and went inside.

Lady Hamilton shut the door behind us with a satisfying thud.

“Leave those bags there and come into the parlour at the back. I'd expect that you'd both like a drink?”

Neither of us answered but followed her into the rear of the house.

“Please sit down. We don't stand on ceremony here.”

“Thank you, Lady Hamilton,” I said.

“Sarah please. None of this Lady stuff. Ok?”

We both smiled back at her as we sat down.

“What will it be? I'm drinking a G&T but the bar is quite well stocked.”

I looked at Mary in an attempt to get her to go first.

After several awkward seconds, she took the hint.

“Some Scotch please. I see that you have some Jura there. That will be fine.”

“Ugh. Far too peaty for me. Richard is the only one who touches it,” replied Sarah as she poured a healthy slug of the brown liquid into a crystal glass.

Sarah handed it to Mary along with a jug of water. Then she looked at me.

“Do you have any beer?”

“I think we do,” replied Sarah as she bent down behind the small bar.

She stood up a few seconds later smiling.

“Will this do?” she said proudly as she put a couple of dark bottles on the counter.

I read the label.

“T.E.A. Traditional English Ale from the Hogs Back Brewery.”
“That will do fine. Thanks.”

“Oh good. Richard is always going on about 'Real Ale'. I can't see the attraction myself.”

Sarah acted the perfect hostess. She just opened the bottle and handed it to me along with a glass.

“He always pours it carefully. I don't know why but I suggest you do the same. He keeps going on about something called bottle conditioned. The only conditioner I know of comes out of a bottle.”

Her attempt at a joke fell flat on its face.

Sarah handed me my drink and sat down opposite us.

I was about to speak when Mary asked,

“I get the connection with Tamara working at your husband’s company but just how did we end up here?”

“Oh, that’s simple. Max gave me a call earlier and explained what was going on. I was only too willing to help out. That’s because Max is my brother.”

In those few words, a whole bunch of questions had been answered.

“I never knew,” I remarked.

Sarah let out a deep sigh.

“Pretty well everything with Max is on a need to know basis and has been for years,” she added with a slight bit of resentment.

“Max was an Army Sergeant Major when he was on a mission in Afghanistan, or so he says. He’s never said what or exactly where it was but the results were that he ended up with his legs getting blown off by something. He won’t say what it was though. Using the word IED is a cover for a multitude of weapons but it conveys a message,” added Sarah with a good deal of sadness in her voice.

I began to understand the job that Max was performing for the Police and god knows else. Operating just outside the law but not really illegal. That seemed to sum it up.

Now that I knew where we were, I began to feel a bit happier. I could tell that Mary was feeling likewise.

About an hour later Sir Richard turned arrived at the house. To our collective surprise he was accompanied by AC Bishop.

“Sue please. We are off duty,” said our superior officer as she took her coat off.

Sarah made a discrete exit along with her husband.

Sue poured herself a small scotch and sat down.

“We need to talk. As you are aware, things have come to a head.”

“We know that. Is anything being done about Sergeant Pratt?” asked Mary getting her play in first.
“Without him and his big mouth, we wouldn’t be in this position.”

Sue gave a small nod in agreement.

“He’s under investigation for perverting the course of justice and accepting bribes and probably other more serious crimes.”

“I don’t understand?” I asked.

“He has sold the story about you to the press. This endangers the pending trial of you know who for multiple counts of murder. That sort of information is sub-judice until it put before the court. He was already under suspension for the attack on you. Sadly, his sweet talking of the press has turned them against you when they should be lauding your bravery in the case.”

She took a sip of her drink.

“For some strange reason, they seem to find a story about a transvestite cop better headline material than the apprehension down a serial killer. If that isn’t a sad reflection on our society today then I don’t know what is…,” added Sue with a definite sad tone to her voice.

“What are you proposing we do?”

Sue finished off her drink in one go.

“Now that the story is out, the only thing is some damage limitation. You have to get your story out into the press.”

“There is no way I’m giving a press conference! I’ll get crucified.”

She didn’t argue with that.

“There is another way. An exclusive interview by a trusted journalist.”

“What? Are you crazy? They’ll edit the hell out of it and make me seem like the bully. I know what happens. Bullies always get the last laugh. I’ve been on the wrong end of too many situations where the bully won when it was their actions that….”

A tear started to well up in my eye.

Mary took hold of my hand and squeezed it gently. That little gesture made me feel a bit better.

“What if you were to tell your story and we had an agreement that it would be printed without editing?”

“What newspaper would do that? Certainly not any of the ‘comics’?”

Sue nodded her agreement.

“One of the quality papers owes me a favour. I could make a call if you are willing?”

“Will my not wanting to return to duty affect what happens?”

Sue shook her head.

“Not in the slightest. At least while I have any say in the matter. I fully appreciate that it will be difficult to return to normal duties. It is hard enough for officers who ‘come out’. I can’t imagine what it would be like for you after being undercover and all that.”

Then she addressed Mary.

“What about you Mary? It seems fairly obvious that the two of you have developed a relationship during this operation. What are you going to do?”

This was a very different ACC from what we had experienced before. I wondered if it was because there was now a serial killer under arrest and charged. That meant the pressure from the Mayor, the Home Secretary and most of the Media would be off her back for at least a while.

Mary looked a bit sad.

“We were just about to discuss this very thing when we made a somewhat hasty exit and came here.”

I looked expectantly at Mary.

“I’m with Tamara. This operation has opened my eyes and I think I’d like to be with her and …”

She took a deep breath before continuing.

“If she’d have me, I’d like to marry her.”

I was stunned. Someone had just asked me to get married.

Both of them were looking at me for an answer.

“I don’t know what to say,” I stuttered.

I looked at Sue for help. She was sitting back with a smug grin on her face but didn’t say anything.

I turned to Mary and looked her in the eye.

“If anyone had said to me when this first started then I’d have said that were barking mad. Now it just makes sense.”

I smiled at her.

“Yes. I accept.”

Then I leaned forward and kissed her.

- - -

We spent the night at the Hamilton’s home somewhere in deepest Surrey. After my acceptance of Mary’s proposal, Sarah cracked open a bottle of ‘bubbly’ and our hosts toasted the us. ACC Bishop departed soon after dawn to travel back to London and promised to report back the following day about her progress in calling in a favour in order to get my story out into the public domain in a controlled manner.

After breakfast, Sarah suggested to Mary that they go shopping. Our hasty departure from our place in Finchley had meant that our choice of clothes was very limited. Max had reported that there were quite a few members of the press camped out outside our now former place of residence and some replacement clothes were sorely needed.

I wanted to go but a quick scan of the websites of the ‘Red Tops’ showed my picture prominently on most of the front pages. My bright red hair would be a dead give-away. I resigned myself to changing its colour sooner rather than later. That was a bit disappointing, as I’d grown rather attached to it.

I left it to Mary to select a suitable colour for me. My only instructions were ‘anything but Blonde’. She’d laughed when I told her.

Sir Richard was in his office working on some project or other when I decided to make us some lunch. I poked my head around his office door to ask him if he wanted something.

He was on the phone but motioned for me to come on in.

He soon finished his call and gave me his full attention.

“I just wanted to know if you would like some Lunch. If I know Mary she’d drag your wife to be around every shop in town.”

He chuckled.

“Yes. I’d like some lunch.”

I turned to leave when he said,
“I wanted to talk to you... While the others are away.”

I was surprised at this and turned back towards him.

“If you want a job when all this is over then I’ll have one for you.”

I assumed that the offer was concerned with the one I’d been doing these past weeks.

“Thanks for the offer. I’m not sure if I’m cut out to be a receptionist.”

Richard laughed.

“I was thinking more about being my PA.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather.

“but… “

I tried to answer but for a few seconds, nothing would come out. Eventually, I managed to get my brain into gear.

“Thanks for the offer but I wouldn’t want to be any embarrassment to the company. My reputation…”

He held up his hand for me to stop.

“It was my wife who suggested that I make you the offer. I have had a chance to think about it and I think she is right. My current PA Bronwyn, has been talking about wanting a different role and one has come vacant that will suit her perfectly. That means I’ll need a new PA.”

Then he carried on,
“A couple of weeks ago, my PA did some asking around on the QT and it was evident from what she reported that you are a smart person. All the team on the front desk like you and… well, what you did to bring down that killer was way beyond the call of duty in my opinion. I need someone who can see beyond the norm, what is being shown to you and get to the bottom of things. The observational skills that you have as a Police Officer are ideal for my work. Being a PA is not only about organising my working life, it is being my second pair of eyes and ears. You would have an assistant based in London to do the run off the mill work such as organising travel and hotels.”

I was flabbergasted.

He continued.

“There will be a salary commensurate with the position plus a generous clothing allowance.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Well don’t say anything. The offer is on the table. Talk things over with Mary and when all this has blown over and things are a bit quieter, let me know your decision.”

I made a hasty exit and literally ran into the kitchen and burst into tears.

All I could think of was ‘why are people being so nice to me?’ After years of being bullied and even assaulted because I didn’t fit in, this was just so out of the ordinary, I could not even start to think of an answer.

After a while, I’d recovered enough to make some lunch for myself and Sir Richard. I found some homemade bread in the kitchen and made us some sandwiches.

I took Sir Richard his helping hoping that I could leave it and escape back to the kitchen.

“I’d like to explain a bit more about the job if I may?”

“Thank you, Richard. I’d rather be alone at the moment if that’s all-right?”

He saw that I was firm in my decision.

“I understand but don’t hesitate to come and talk things over. Not everyone is an enemy or is out to make cheap points from you.”

He’d surprised me again.
“Thank you,” I managed to mumble.

I made another hasty exit back to the sanctuary of the kitchen and buried my head in my hands.

My inability to hold back the tears had always been seen by others as a sign of weakness. For years, I could never understand why I couldn’t take it like a man and keep the tears at bay. Instead I cried like a woman.

Not long after my 10th birthday, I realised that I should have been born a woman. For several years I’d been dressing up in my Mothers clothes in secret. One day my father caught me. It was only the intervention of my mother that had saved me from a beating from my father. He was old school. His father had beaten him when he’d done wrong and no law or interfering busybody was going to stop him from dishing out the same treatment to his son. Mum saved me from that but I had to go and see a shrink instead.

After the first appointment, I would rather have had the beating from my father but by the time the sessions were over, I knew my destiny. When my parents found out that I believed that I should have been born as a female, they blew their top. The next six years were terrible at home.

After that, I was never left alone for any length of time. This was all in the hope that I’d grow out of ‘my thing with women’s clothes.’ As soon as I was sixteen, my parents booted me out. In a small Lincolnshire farming community, something like being gay or even worse wanting to dress in women’s clothing was worse than getting foot and mouth disease. There was nothing more to it but to leave.

I moved in with my Aunt in Nottingham and went to school there. A school on a city council estate was even worse than the one in a rural backwater. I was bullied from the first day because of my sweet baby looks. For almost a year I let everyone assume I was gay. That worked until it was time for the Prom. That is one invention that I’d happily send back across the Atlantic and bury forever.

My pretending to being gay plan backfired big time. The one openly gay male in the school asked me to go to the prom as his date. I had to refuse. That had really gone down well with everyone else who accused me of hiding my sexuality and that I was really gay. In the end, I had to tell everyone that I was a transsexual. That really did it. Neither sexes could handle it. The rest of my time at school was absolute torture. Hardly a day would go by without some practical joke being played on me. Finally, I had to get permission to use the staff toilets because neither sex wanted to share theirs with me. I was an outcast to everyone. I’d taken up Martial Arts as a way of defending myself from the inevitable physical attacks that happened all too often.

After a while, the physical attackers got the message that I would fight back so they left me alone for a bit. Then sites like MySpace appeared and it all began again.

The fact that some people being kind to me was not something that I’d been used to. My sandwich became inedibleß due to all my tears dripping into it.

I don’t know how long I sat there wallowing in my depression. It was only interrupted by the return of Sarah and Mary from their shopping expedition.

Both of them waltzed into the kitchen full of beans. They took one look at me and my face and their mood changed in an instant.

“What’s up?” asked Mary.

“Nothing,” I mumbled.

“Don’t give me that,” demanded Mary.

I just looked down at the table.

“Did Richard tell about the job?”

I was starting to cry again. I managed to nod my head.

“I though you would be happy?”

I looked at her aghast.

“You knew?”

“Sarah told me while we were shopping.”

The tears were forming in my eyes again.

“Don’t cry. You should be happy?”

“I am. I’m just not used to people being kind to me.”

Mary came and sat down beside me and gave me a big hug.

“You are amongst friends here.”

I took her hand and squeezed it.

[to be continued]

ACC Bishop called later in the day with some news. She told us that she’d managed to get a prominent Journalist to agree to interview me on the understanding that no manipulation of my words would be done post interview. We all felt better for this as despite my former colleague being arrested and charged with numerous offenses, the press seemed to be having a feeding frenzy with my past. Many facts were being reported about me, most of which were simply fiction. This made me angry. Mary did her best to calm me down and tell me that my side of the story would be told in due course.

The she asked,
“Did Sergeant Pratt go anywhere in the house apart from the hallway after you dialled ‘999’?”

“No Ma’am. I made sure that no one went anywhere else. I didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene.”

“Thank you very much, Tamara. That is very interesting. In that case, it is very likely that Sergeant Pratt is probably going to be charged with murder or at very least accessory to Murder. You may well be called on to make an additional statement to that effect.”

I couldn’t get any more out of her at that point in time. Something was going on but I could not put my finger on it.

It was Max who gave us the whole story a few hours later.
“After a lot of searching, the van that was used to transport you away from your home was found in a lockup in St Albans. The lockup was being rented in Ian Pratt’s name. CCTV showed him driving the van at only one place between your flat and St Albans. Being a Police Officer obviously helped them know where all the CCTV and ANPR cameras are located. Once at the Lockup, you were transferred to a smaller van. We found that van parked in the garage where you were held captive. We found a hood with your DNA and the DNA of five other victims on it in the back. SOCO found both Ian Pratt and Dan Carpenter’s fingerprints in both vans.”

“So, they were in it together?”

“It seems that way. SOCO also found his prints on several of the ‘trophy jars’.”

“But… but why didn’t he recognise me in Finchley?”

“The only thing that we can think of is that you were kept hooded all the time and that Mr Carpenter was the one who tasered you, and it looks like Sergeant Pratt just did the driving.”

I sat for a while thinking… ‘if only I hadn’t jumped on the first tube train…’.

I was in a bit of a fug for several more days despite everyone’s best efforts.

The final straw for me to start reacting was a story about a so-called girlfriend of mine from school in Nottingham. The woman in question was telling the world that her daughter was mine and that I’d bedded her after the ‘prom’. I’d never even gone to the stupid thing let alone had sex with her. Mary consoled me with the fact that I’d get my say the following day when we met with the journalist.

---

Max sent a driver to take me to the meeting with the journalist. This was to take place on or close the beach at Seaford in Sussex. Thankfully, the day was warm and dry. The driver took me to Lewes where we met Max and new face.

“Tamara, this is Mark Lewis. He’s a lawyer. He will make sure that the record of the interview is recorded and faithfully reprinted in the paper tomorrow. I have a signed contract with the paper that your words won’t be negatively edited or extraneous facts introduced. This is all about facts and getting your side of the story into the press.”

I shook his hand.

“Pleased to meet you Mr Lewis.”

“Likewise.”

He smiled at me and said quietly.

“I have a number of clients like you so please don’t think of me as an enemy.”

I felt relieved at this. The last thing I wanted was a lawyer who didn’t understand what I was going through.

I got in the car with him after Max explained that the journalist was being ferried to the interview by helicopter. This was so we could be sure that he was not followed by half a dozen photographers with very long lenses and parabolic microphones.

I’d made it clear that this was to be a one on one interview right from the outset. Mr Lewis was strictly there as a referee but, the rest of the media would be out for blood if they knew where I was going to be.

---

I returned to the house almost four hours later exhausted from the session. I’d put over my story in a way that I’d hoped would stop the more sensational stories from coming out. I’d made it clear that I was not the father of any child and that I’d be more than willing to take a DNA test to prove that point. I’d also said that false allegations like that were libel and that damages would be sought from all parties concerned.

Max grilled Mark about the interview and pronounced himself satisfied with the result. Mark gave Max the tape of the interview and was taken back to London by the driver who’d collected me from the Hamilton’s home that morning.

Once they’d gone, Max asked me,

“Are you sure that you want to take that DNA test?” he asked referring to the claim that I was the father of a child from my time in Nottingham.

“Absolutely. That’s why I said that very thing to the journalist.”

I looked him in the eye before adding,

“Before Mary and I had sex, I was a virgin but naturally no one else needs to know that.”

He laughed and a big grin appeared on his face.

“I think I can keep that kind of secret but if it goes to trial then you may have to testify to that very fact.”

He thought for a second or two.

“However, let me make a few calls and line up a company to do the testing. That way we can put the pressure on the other side over this. If we put them on the defensive then they might just fold their hand.”

“Mark suggested that I sue for defamation. I’ve had a think about it and I have decided that I want to go ahead with that. Those liars need to be taken down a peg or two. It would not surprise me if they were being paid a lot of money by a newspaper or other media company. The lies about my fathering a child, are just beyond the pale. I want to fight back. I want them and the people behind it to pay dearly for this. I want every last penny they received from the press and damages from the papers and the editors. I’ll make it clear that I’m giving it to charity but they need to know that printing lies without even cursory fact checking is not the way to run a business.”

“Good for you,” replied Max with a rare grin on his face.

“But I want to keep Mary out of this as much as possible. She has a son in Northern Ireland and I really don’t want him involved if at all possible.”

“I get the message. I’ll put a few of my guys onto it. If the media start taking an interest, we may have to move him. I take it Caitlin still has custody.”

Hearing her proper name for the first time in more than two months brought me back to reality with a bang.

“Yes. Yes, she does.”

“Good then I’ll get the paperwork sorted out. We don’t want the PSNI[1] to get all uppity and talk about charging my guys with kidnapping now do we?”

I had to agree with that.

“If you are ready, then I think we should be getting back to Cranleigh?”

“Yes, we should.”

---

We all looked anxiously for the reports in the following days papers. The other dailies seemed to have gotten wind of my interview and had considerably reduced the level of scandal being reported.

My interview was as promised printed in full with minimal editing and only to emphasise the context. I felt relieved that at last my story had been told honestly.

The so-called mother of my child was served with a writ later that day as were the editors of the three daily newspapers that had carried the story on their front pages.

Almost immediately the coverage of my part of the case was greatly reduced. The appearance of Ian Pratt and Dan Carpenter in court to answer their charges also helped to divert the attention of the media away from me. Their appearance in court also made the case ‘sub-judice’ and the Judge had not lifted reporting restrictions. That severely limited what could be reported in the mainstream media.

The pair were once again remanded in custody until a later date when he would be committed for trial. Max reported that the latest information coming from the CPS was that Ian Pratt was going to plead ‘Not Guilty by reason of mental deficiency’. We all knew he was mad but we all felt slightly cheated by this attempt to escape justice. He was mad but not that mad.

Mary and I moved back to our place in Finchley and tried to get some order back into our life now that the press had been calmed down.

On our first evening there, I sat Mary down and began to lay out my thoughts.

“Going into work every day and being treated as a woman and not as a man in a dress was… well, nice. As time went by, I realised that would probably not happen if I remained a Police Officer.”

Mary took hold of my hand.

“I guessed as much. As I got to know you I felt that you going back to work as a female DC was going to be even more of a problem that I’d imagined.”

I gave her a little peck on the lips.

“If you want me to recant on my acceptance of your proposal then I will. I have to be unselfish. For years, I have thought of no one but myself. Then I fell in love with you. I can’t ask you to change everything like I can. You have a son to think about.”

Mary looked me right in the eyes.

“There are times when I wish I’d never had Liam. Thankfully, they are few and far between. I’m his mother but I know that I’ve not been a very good one. I’ve left him with my parents and got on with my own life. Don’t you think I feel guilty?”

I saw two tears form in her eyes.

“I’m in love with you. For the first time in my life, I’m in love with someone. But why on earth did it have to be you? Isn’t my life complicated enough already.”

One of the tears rolled down her cheek.

“Then, when you went missing, I realised that it didn’t matter, I just wanted to be with you.”

I knew better than to bring up the thorny subject of Liam.

“So, what do we do?” I asked.

“I think we should speak to Max. Perhaps he will have something for an experienced ex Police officer?”

It took a lot of effort not to burst out laughing at her suggestion.

“That might be a good idea. We will also need somewhere to live. My old place is not big enough for the two of us and you were flat sitting. I don’t know how long Max agreed to rent this place for.

Any further discussion was interrupted by my phone going off.

“Hi Max, what’s up?”

“You what? Can you say that again?”

“Well, I never. That is a turn up for the books. I wasn’t expecting that. Thanks for letting us know.”

I was about to hang up when I remembered something.

“Max, how long do we have before we have to move out of here?”

“Ok, that’s good to know. Thanks.”

“Yes, will tomorrow do?”

“Ha-ha. We’ll see you for Lunch.”

I hung up the call with a smile on my face.

“Two bits of good news. Firstly, we have three months before we have to move out of here.”

Mary smiled.

“That’s good. And the second?”

“The crime scene people were going through the phone records of Daniel Carpenter just to see if there was anyone else involved with the murders and they found that he’d been calling the delightful Ian Pratt for a long time. It seems that Ian Pratt and he go back a long way. It seems that Ian Pratt will be facing twelve murder charges rather than the six he currently is. They will be tried together. The CPS has had him examined and three different experts have pronounced him sane and fit to stand trial.”

“Wow! I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Me neither. It makes what he did with the press start to make sense. Whatever happens with his trial, those leaks will mean that he’s finished with the Police.”

Mary was quiet.

“I guess that makes three of us then?”

I looked at her right in the eye. I could see a sense of sadness.

“You don’t have to leave you know? You love being a Police Officer.”

“So, do you. Come on admit it!”

“I do but I know that I don’t have a future in the force. How can I with hair this colour? And these?” I replied looking down at my chest.

Mary laughed and kissed me.

“You could change it you know? The hair I mean.”

“I could do that.”

Mary smiled.

“But you like it don’t you?”

I nodded.

“Do you?”

“I didn’t at first but now? But it grew on me so, yes I do.”

“Then leave as it is then? I don’t think that Sir Richard will object.”

“That is always assuming I take the job that is?”

Mary just grinned back at me as if to say, ‘I know that you will accept and so do you but you just won’t admit it yet’.

[to be continued]

[1]PSNI = Police Service of Northern Ireland

[Authors Note]
The final part of this story will be posted next Monday if I have internet. I'll be somewhere on the Ardnamurchan Peninsula in Western Scotland. I'm staying at a 'Bothy' so it might be that it wll have to wait a few days until I get onto the Island of Mull where the Hotel there does have Internet.
Samantha

Mary and I spent three days talking about everything to do with us. One sticking point was her son and another possibly bigger one was her parents. How they’d accept me was a big unknown. She had her doubts that they would accept me and it was fairly obvious that she was being torn apart internally over the subject. She talked very little about it but I could tell that it might tear us apart. How that would affect me was concerning but I knew that… well, what would happen, would.

We also discussed our futures. I had the job offer from Sir Richard but there was still the issue of Mary/Caitlin’s future and where were would be based.

It was clear that both of us had become somewhat disillusioned with the Police or at least our current roles within the force. It was also clear, that we were outsiders despite the best efforts of ACC Bishop to drag the Met Police into the 21st Century. That made us reluctant to commit to them for our future careers. It was far easier for me to accept that I was done with the Police because of my gender issues.

We went for walks in the local area armed only with an Ordnance Survey map and a compass. A couple of times we got soaked but after being in London it really didn’t matter all that much.

As we looked out onto the surrounding countryside from Holmbury Hill and the clouds that meant that it was about to rain on us, I said to Mary,

“I really am done with London and the TP.”

She chuckled at my use of her nickname for most of the people we worked with, ‘Testosterone Police’.

“I’m starting to feel much the same way. This is much more like mountains of County Down,” came her reply as she looked into the distance with watery eyes as the first spots of rain came down.

I could tell that she was missing her son. I’d never seen that side of her before. The brave face that she’d worn every day in the office was long gone. This mission has really changed both of us.

At the end of three days, all our discussions became a lot more complicated with the arrival on the scene of Max. He came to dinner with his sister.

After dinner, he took us aside and got down to business.

“There is bad news and good news. Which do you want first?”

I looked at her and she looked at me. Neither of us said anything.

“The bad it is then,” said Max.

“The CPS has dropped the kidnapping charge against you.”

“Eh?” was my reaction.
“Why?”

“They want to keep as much of my operation and methods under wraps as possible,” came his curt reply.

That made perfect sense. The less said about how we were placed undercover the better.

“But you will both be expected to give evidence. The CPS has… shall we say suggested that you don’t be seen together in public before the trial. The defence council will want to make an issue of you two living together and becoming shall we say involved.”

We both looked rather sad at this bit of news.

“What’s the good news?”

“The CPS wants you two kept under wraps until the trial. You are welcome to stay here. It is pretty private and so far, none of the media has got wind of where you are. There are some rather unscrupulous people in the media and on social media who would love to get their Advert ratings up with a juicy story about you two and nooky and everything. That red hair of yours is a dead give-away.”

“That’s good news?”

“Yes. In a way it is. I have a selection of wigs for you to wear when out and about. I have arranged for them to be put in your room. I take it that you are sleeping together?”

We didn’t need to answer. He knew it already.

“The Met have agreed to keep paying your salary until after the trials. It would not look good for you to be asked your occupation when you get to give evidence only for you to say ‘former police officer’.”

“When will the trial be?” I asked.

“More than likely in five or six months’ time. They will both be remanded for trial at the Bailey in a couple of weeks. We’ll know then when it is scheduled for. That gives us time to prep you for the inevitable grilling that you will get when on the stand.”

“No chance of a guilty plea then?”

Max laughed.
“At the moment no. The case against Daniel Carpenter is rock solid. The evidence from his trophy cabinet and the cellar will be enough to put him away. We found Sergeant Pratt’s fingerprints on many of the jars and elsewhere inside the trophy cabinet. That will be good enough for the CPS to charge him with Accessory to Murder. Twelve counts of that will be enough to send him away for a long time let alone the charges from his assault on you. However, the CPS is hoping that they will see sense and take a guilty plea. Carpenter is going away for the rest of his life. Mr Pratt should get twelve to fifteen years if they do otherwise, the CPS has indicated that they will be looking for twenty five plus if it goes to trial.”

I felt relieved at the news but sad that it appeared that I’d be stuck here for at least six months.

Max turned to Mary,
“I suggest that you go and visit your son. Take him on Holiday or something. We’d like you to change your hair and clothes though. Blend into the background so to speak.”

Mary hesitated for a bit but reluctantly agreed to his suggestion.

“I’ll need to brief you before you go over to Ulster though.”

Then he turned to me.

“What about you Tamara?”

“I… I can’t sit around here until the trial.”

Max smiled.
“Good girl…”

Then he stunned me by saying,
“Are you ready to start work as a PA? Everyone thinks that it is the perfect cover. Nothing like hiding in Plain Sight now is there?”

“I.. I… I don’t know?”
Then my brain got into gear.
“What about this?” I said fingering my hair.

Max grinned and said,
“Don’t worry, my people will take care of that. They’ll help you find the right wig.”

Then with a perfectly straight face I said,
“The red hair stays ok!”

Max laughed.
“That goes without saying.”

“What about the people at Wells St? They know me and can put two and two together?”

Richard was very blunt in his reply.
“All of them have signed contracts that include non-disclosure clauses. They know what will happen if they rat you out to the press and besides, you two aren’t the first high profile case that has been through our hands. They know the score and will keep quiet.”

A few days later, Max’s ‘people’ did their magic and my red locks were covered by a brown shoulder length wig. Well, a wig and a couple of hair pieces that were ‘to give it volume Darling…’.

Saying goodbye to Mary at Gatwick Airport was difficult. Neither of us had a dry eye. As she walked through security, I wondered if I’d ever see her again.

To compensate for her absence, I threw myself into becoming the next PA for Sir Richard.
To his credit, he was a very patient boss. His outgoing PA Bronwyn, took me under her wing and not only showed me the ropes of the job but made sure that I looked the part.

That meant several shopping trips to various higher end shops all over Surrey and Sussex. If I had thought that the clothes that I had bought for my receptionist’s job were expensive, the ones now hanging in my wardrobe put them into the shade, a very deep shade. One top cost Sir Richard more than two hundred quid. Before… Before I’d never spent that on a suit let alone just a top! Don’t even get me started on the shoes.

After just three shopping trips, the order of the day was to dress as a PA. Hair, makeup, everything. This took my girly experience to a whole different level. To my embarrassment, I loved it. So much so, I began to think of what to wear for the following day as I prepared for bed the night before.

The big downside was that the powers that be had decided that Mary and I should not contact each other by email, text or phone. There was always a risk that the records could be ordered to be produced in evidence at the trial.

It was Sir Richard who came to the rescue. After nearly two weeks of job instruction and shopping he came to me late one Monday afternoon.

“Well, Tamara are you ready for your first trip as my PA?”

“Eh?... Really?”

“Yes, really. Are you up for it?”

“If you think I’m ready… then yes I am.”

The butterflies in my stomach had turned into starving vultures feeding on a fresh carcass such was the turmoil.

“I do and so does everyone else who matters.”

“Well, then, we leave here at 06:00 sharp in the morning. Pack for five days plus some downtime clothes. The plan is that we get back here in time for Dinner on Saturday.”

“That’s a lot. I’ll probably pack far too much.”

“Don’t worry about the number of bags as we are flying on my jet.”

There clearly was no answer to that…

It was only later that evening I realised that I’d totally forgotten to ask where we were going. I shrugged it off knowing that I’d find out soon enough.

It wasn’t a long drive from Sir Richard’s home to Dunsfold Aerodrome. In the early morning light, I recognised it as the place where ‘Top Gear’ is filmed. Well, the presence of several large trucks with ‘BBC’ on the outside sort of gave the game away.

There were no formalities such as passport or customs so I guessed that we were heading for somewhere inside the UK. In my mind, I went through the list of current projects that Sir Richard was personally involved with. It came down to three.

“Well Tamara,” asked my boss as we buckled up in the plush cabin.
“Have to worked out where we are going yet?”

I smiled.

“It is likely to be one of Inverness, Teeside, Liverpool or Belfast. That’s where your current ‘hands on’ projects are located.”

“Good girl. First off, we are going to Belfast then Inverness and over to Aberdeen to scope some new work. That’s what we will be doing on Saturday. Less prying eyes and all that.”

My heartrate leapt up. Sir Richard noticed that.

“Yes, there might well be a chance for you to see her tomorrow,” he said smiling.
“But not a word to Max or you know who ok?”

I just nodded my head in understanding.

I couldn’t wait.

I didn’t see her the following evening as we had an important dinner to attend but the day after was free. Sir Richard was going to Lough Neagh for a spot of fishing with some business associates. He was not one to do business on the golf course but mention fishing and he’d be there in a flash. The result was that he gave me the use of his car for the day. By that, I mean the car plus the driver Patrick.

“Where to Miss?”

“Portrush please Patrick.”

“Lovely part of the world, the North Coast. My brother goes up there for the motorcycle races.”

“I’m meeting someone for lunch.”

“Sit back and enjoy the ride and let Patrick get you there safely,” came his reply as we left the hotel.

As we neared Portrush, I began to get a bit nervous. I hoped that Caitlin or Mary would be there. I’d called her but had only managed to leave a message on voicemail when I’d called from the Hotel.

Patrick stopped the car to let some cows cross the road. This gave him the opportunity to ask,
“Where to in Portrush Miss?”

“The Atlantic Hotel please.”

“I know where it is. Lovely views out over the sea.”

“Thanks,” I replied hoping that I didn’t sound too nervous.

We were early and after five minutes, I gave up pacing up and down in reception and went outside and did some deep breathing. The sea air was refreshing and it helped calm my nerves.

I was jerked out of my nervous fug by the arrival of a car.

Two people emerged from the car. It was Caitlin and her son.

She was smiling. No, she was grinning back at me.

I walked towards them trying to quell my nerves.

“Hello darling,” said Caitlin.

“Hello,” I replied slightly surprised by her welcome.

“Hello,” I said to her son.
“You must be Sean. I’ve heard so much about you from your Mother.”

“Sean, say hello to Tamara.”

“Hello Tamara,” said Sean slightly nervously.

“We have some time before our table, shall we walk?”

“I’d like that,” replied Caitlin.

We walked along the path near the cliffs with Sean holding both his mother’s and my hand.

“How are you?” I asked quietly.

“I’m good. No, I’m very good for seeing you again. I didn’t know how much I missed you until about half an hour ago.”

“Same here. I nearly had a panic attack when I got here. Then I saw you and it was panic over.”

I decided to change the subject.

“I didn’t expect you to have Sean with you?”

“Originally, I was going to come on my own but his school is closed today. Something about a training day for the staff so here we are.”

“It is nice to see him.”

“He wanted to see you once I’d told him about you.”

“Eh?”

“Shall we sit for a minute?” she asked.

“Why not.”

We sat down and let Sean look at a Statue that was just a few yards away.

“You told him about me?”

“Yes,” replied Caitlin smiling.
“It was easy.”

“Easy? How?”

“Sean came to me a few days after I came back and said, ‘Mummy, why do I have to dress as a boy? I want to be a girl!’”

“Shit!”

“Yeah. You could have knocked me for six.”

I chuckled.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was just thinking about how the old you would have reacted.”

“Don’t. Just don’t go there. I would… well, it is beyond thinking about… Thanks to you.”

She squeezed my hand.

“Are we going to be good? After all this is over?”

“I want it to be and I think it would be nice to have Sean living with us.”

“Eh?”

“Would that be ok with you?”

“No… Sorry Yes. It is fine with me. Just a bit unexpected that’s all.”

“I know. It took me by surprise as well.”

“What about your parents? They were always going to be a problem with me, weren’t they?”

“Yes, they were but given Sean’s situation, it might be best for him to come to us but they want to meet you though.”

“Really? You seemed to paint your Father as a bit of an ogre?”

“He is… well was. He’s mellowed a bit once I told him about you and what you did. He thinks that you can’t be all bad because of what you did to catch the killer.”

“You played your part as well.”

“Humph. It was your show and you know it. I was there to play a role but…”
She squeezed my hand tighter and looked me in the eye.
“But it became a lot more than that. We both know that.”

I smiled at her and gave her a kiss.

We were interrupted by Sean.
“Yuk!” he said.

We both laughed.

“Shall we go and eat?”

“Yes, Mummy, can we eat? I’m hungry?”

It hurt me to leave them in the middle of the afternoon. I had to be back in Belfast by early evening as we were flying to Inverness. The presence of Sean meant that we couldn’t show our affection very openly.

Sean then surprised me by saying,
“Please come back soon Tamara. Mummy is much happier today than she’d been for a while. I don’t want to see Mummy unhappy.”

“Don’t worry Sean, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

---

That was the last I saw of Caitlin until the trial of Dan Carpenter. Right up to the day it started, I was prepared to give evidence but at the last moment he changed his plea to ‘guilty’ and was spared.

There was no such luck with the other trial, that of Ian Pratt. He wasn’t going down without a fight. Thankfully, Caitlin would not have to give evidence in this trial. Most of the evidence was forensic and then my word against his. His legal team tried to get the recording of my altercation with him that had been made by the other officer Sadik, thrown out of evidence by saying that it was an illegal recording. Their Counsel was reminded that the police had the right to record what they were seeing as potential evidence as long as it was available to both sides before trial. As it was, their move was thrown out.

That opening salvo was likely to be nothing when compared to what I was likely to face when it was my turn to give evidence. There had been an increase in postings on Social Media in the weeks leading up to the trial that tried to paint me as everything from a modern day, Mata Hari to a for hire prostitute and then to a corrupt officer that was only going to testify for the money.

I had to laugh at the last one. I was out of pocket on the operation let alone waiting for riches galore to come my way.

Despite it all being a pack of lies, I became toxic within the force. No one would speak to me unless ordered to do so. Even my so-called friends from the squad avoided me on the few visits I’d made to HQ to prepare for the trial. That’s what you get for going up against a Sergeant, even a totally corrupt and evil, bully of a Sergeant.

My ordeal in the witness box began on day three of the trial. After the opening statements, the forensic evidence had been given. Then it was my turn.

Because of all the press and social media attention, some subterfuge was the order of the say. With Max’s help I arrived at the ‘Old Bailey’ dressed as a cleaner, some three hours before the court opened. I’d leave the same way sometime in the evening. I made myself ready in the ladies for my appearance and then waited in a room adjacent to the court. At times like these, a good book is the order of the day. That was something that we learned at Hendon.

At 10:05, I was summoned by a clerk to enter the courtroom. I took a deep breath and followed him.

I was dressed in a navy-blue trouser suit. I had on a fairly plain white blouse on under the jacket. My makeup was simple but effective. I wore plain leather shoes with a 1in heel. My only jewellery was a fake amber necklace and who plain earrings. Understatement was the order of the day. My vibrant red hair had been died again just a few days before. Despite some words from the prosecution team suggesting that I tone it down, I was having none of it.

After being sworn in, the questioning began. Well, it should have but the defence raised an objection.

“We think that this witness has lied about his name and occupation. We demand that he is charged with contempt of court.”

The prosecution barrister was prepared for this.

“We’d like to enter into evidence, the following items. Firstly, a record of a name change that was dated several weeks before the case in question came to a head. Secondly, the guidance document from the Home Office regarding how to address people who are transitioning and thirdly, a letter from the head of HR at the Met Police confirming that the name change is in order and that a new warrant card has been issued. Lastly, a certified copy of that warrant card.”

The Judge smiled as he examined the evidence.

He asked the prosecution barrister,
“What all this available to the defence before trial?”

“Yes, your Honour it was. These items are clearly identified on a list of evidence that was supplied to defence counsel. We have a signed copy of the list acknowledging their receipt of the list. A copy of that signed list was also lodged with the clerk of the court a week before the trial began. The fact that they didn’t bother to look at these items from us was not our doing.”

After about a second, he added,
“Or perhaps they did and ignored them?”

“Objection overruled.”

Then the judge said,
“If this is a foretaste of how this witness is to be treated then I will close you down. Understood?”

The defence barrister looked a bit shocked. He had probably not expected an admonishment so early on in my evidence.

“Yes M’Lord.”

“Good. Please continue.”

I was allowed by the prosecution to give details of how I was abducted and how I escaped from my cell. The tools I’d used were shown to me as evidence. I confirmed that they were the tools I’d used.

Then I told how I’d set a trap for Mr Carpenter and deliberately set off the alarm and how I’d called the Police using the ‘999’ service. The tape was played back and I confirmed that it was my voice.

I then told of how Sergeant Pratt arrived on the scene and how he addressed me even after I’d identified myself as a fellow officer. The recording made by his Constable was played to the court. I could see Mr Pratt glaring at me. I was sure that if he could of, he would have been out of the dock and trying to kill me such was his look of hatred.

I carried on telling my story. Each step was backed up by the evidence obtained from the scene.

Then it was time for my cross examination but that was saved by the judge.

“I think we will adjourn for lunch. We will begin again at one-thirty.”

I sighed and felt my heartrate drop considerably.

The Prosecution team made sure that I was kept well away from any of the media and even members of the public. I managed to eat something, I don’t know what though while sitting alone in the ante-room. Then it was time to go back into the lions den.

“Constable, why are you dressed as a woman when it is clear that you are a man?”

“Objection,” Cried the prosecution.
“It has already been presented to the court that this witness is a Transsexual and is in the middle of her transition.”

“I agree. Move along Mr Mallory. Remember my warning from earlier,” said the Judge.

That was totally ignored as was evident by the next question.

“Constable, are you gay?”

“Objection,” came the cry.

“Mr Mallory! One more trick like that and I’ll send you to the cells. You should know from your other appearances before me that I do not like witness intimidation and treat it as contempt of court. Do I make myself understood?”

“Yes M’ Lord. I was merely following the instructions of my client.”

“Just be careful with your questioning.”

Then he addressed the jury.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury. The sexuality or gender of the witness will have no effect on the validity or not of the testimony given by the witness. You are here to listen to the facts as presented to you in relation to the case.”

“Please continue.”

“Constable, did you falsify the evidence against my client? Did you plant his fingerprints on the glass jars that contained the human remains that were being kept by Daniel Carpenter as souvenirs of his crimes?”

“No Sir.”

“Come now Constable. It is on record that you that there was no love lost between you and my client. Wasn’t this an ideal opportunity to… to stitch him up?”

“No Sir. At no time was I alone with your client and furthermore, I never touched the cabinet containing the trophies which I might add was locked and Mr Carpenter had the only key which at the time of the incident with your client was locked in Mr Carpenters safe. This was as already shown to the court in a video of the safe being opened by the forensic team. I was long gone from the crime scene by then.”

“What did you feel when you saw who the officer was that had arrived at the crime scene?”

“Me? I felt sad.”

“Sad? Surely you thought that here was an opportunity to get one over on my client.”

“Objection,” said the Prosecution Barrister.
“Asked and answered”

“I agree,” said the Judge.
“Move along Mr Mallory.”

“According to the recording that we listened to earlier, it seemed that you were goading my client into violence by mentioning your time at Hendon together. Is this true?”

This was my opening. He’d brought up Hendon.

“If you mean by reminding him of his bullying while we were at Hendon, yes. Your client had it in for several of us from day one. He regarded us as not fit to be Police Officers. He went out of his way to make our life hell. One cadet had to drop out due to a broken arm that was caused by your client. Before you object, there is no proof but everyone else know who’s done it. Your client is a bully. I’m sure that everyone at Hendon with us would welcome the chance to come to this court and testify to that fact. Everyone, of them that are no longer Police Officers that is. There are some that see testifying against a senior officer as career suicide. I don’t as once we are done with this case, I will be leaving the Police to pursue another line of employment.”

“Oh, and what exactly is that?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Why? Is that because no one will employ someone like you?”

“That is not true. My future employer has asked that I do not reveal who they are for business reasons. Besides, that is the future. Aren’t we supposed to be talking about events that are in the past?”

He looked a bit shocked that I’d attacked him back. The three weeks of preparation for the trial was paying off.

“How much money will you be getting from the rewards that were offered for the capture of the killer, Daniel Carpenter?”

I was momentarily stunned by his change of direction.

“Come on now Constable. Can’t you count all that filthy lucre in all those offshore tax haven accounts?”

“I have received nothing and never will. Any money that might possibly come my way, should be donated to the families of the victims. I do not want any money or as you put it, ‘filthy lucre’ from the rewards. Anyone who offers me money will be told to get lost or words to that effect.”

That caused some tittering in the court. The judge let it go.

“What about the court case you have against several national newspapers and the innocent mother of your child?”

“I am not at liberty to discuss that case here. Apart from reiterating my statement that I am not the father of the child in question.”

I looked at the Judge for support.

“Move along please. I have already told you in Chambers that discussing the detail of that case was off limits and not relevant to this case.” Said the Judge.

And so, it went on for the rest of the afternoon and most of the following morning. The Defence Barrister tried as hard as he could to blacken my name and reputation but failed. At the end, the Judge said,
“You may step down Constable.”

If I could have found a bed right there and then, I was sure that I would have slept for days. Sadly, there was no bed and I had to be smuggled out of the court later in the day. Even three hours after the case had been adjourned for the day, there were still people from the media waiting to try to interview me.

That night I was back at Sir Richards. My day became complete when Caitlin greeted me with a long, long kiss.

“I hear that you gave as good as you got then?”

“I hope I did,” I replied.
“The CPS thinks that it will go to the Jury next Tuesday.”

“Do you think he’ll go down?”

“I effing hope so. Either way, he’s done for in the force. Godzilla’s Deputy was in court and collared me after I’d given evidence. Apparently, Godzilla was none too happy with the way that his brief tried to slag me off.”

“That’s good.”

“Small mercies.”

“Will you be glad to be done with all that?”

“Yes and no. I always wanted to be a Policeman but doing what we did changed my mind.”

“Mine too,” said Caitlin.

“I thought that you were thinking of going back to the squad? Godzilla said that she’d make the boss take you back.”

“I know that I left it all up in the air but I’m not going back to the Met. I’ve put in for a transfer to Surrey as a Traffic Officer. That is if you approve?”

“Of course, I approve but where are we going to live? It is important if Sean is going to live with us?”

Caitlyn smiled.

“The Guildford Traffic Police Depot is situated between Bramley and Shalford. That is about seven miles from here. Sarah also said that there is a cottage on the estate that needs a bit of work but is otherwise good to go.”

“What about going to work for Max?”

Mary sighed.
“That would mean having to live in London and possibly being away for days on end. I’m done not seeing my child grow up especially at this critical point in time in his life. My time back home with him and my parents has allowed me to see things in a different light. They want to meet you.”

She must have noticed a worried look on my face.
“And whatever I do, I’m going to do it with you so don’t even think of bailing out ok?”

I smiled back at her.
I knew exactly what she meant. I would have given a lot to have my parents on my side when I was struggling with my sexuality.

“Then a traffic officer it is then.”

“I’ll need to do a refresher before they’ll let me go behind the wheel again but it should be good.”

“Do they actually have a vacancy?” I asked remembering the recent budget cuts.

“I don’t know but Godzilla put in a good word for me but she said that they want more women in Traffic especially, Sergeants and above so it is a win-win.”

Max’s associates moved our stuff down from Finchley the following weekend. We spent a week doing some decorating before we started work again. It felt strange saying goodbye to Mary early in the morning as she started her first shift. We had decided to leave it until the end of the school term before we moved Sean over from Ireland to be with us.

We were so engrossed in our life together that we missed the verdict from the ‘Old Bailey’. Daniel Carpenter was sentenced to twelve Whole Life terms. Soon to be former Police Sergeant Pratt was given twelve concurrent life terms with a recommendation that he serve at least twenty five years. The court also made an order to reclaim all of the money he’d been paid for leaking my details to the press. That money was to be paid to the victims. Orders for ‘Asset Forfeiture’ were made on both of them effectively confiscating all their belongings including houses and cars.

One fact that was never fully explained at the trial was that was how the two teamed up in the first place. Neither wanted to explain it.

When Max called us to give us the good news, our relief was palpable.
Then he dropped the bombshell that made everything fit together.

He told us that Mr Carpenter and Mr Pratt had been engaged in a Pornography Business which apparently was not doing that well so they’d moved on into real hard-core movies. Recordings of the killings of all twelve victims had been sold on the ‘Dark Web’ as ‘Snuff Videos’. Both of them had tried to hide the income from that which went well into six figures. They were both to be tried for those crimes. Max estimated that Mr Pratt would have another twenty years added to his jail time because he was the camera operator at the time of the murders. His voice was clearly audible on several recordings.

As I told Caitlyn, I could not help but wonder how he’d got from just being a bully and into making snuff videos. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

The next bit of good news was that once the DNA evidence proved that I wasn’t the father of the child the newspapers caved in and settled the libel case. I gave all the money to charity as I’d promised all along. The sad thing was that the mother still continued to say that I was the father and that I should be made to pay for my getting my evil way with her all those years ago. My legal people issued her with a court order that told her to stop spreading lies. In the end, no one would listen to her.

I felt a little sad for her. Sad because she felt that she had to lie like that and not accept the scientific evidence.

Caitlyn was granted a transfer to the Surrey Police but before she could take up her post, we found out that she was pregnant. After a lot of discussion, we decided that it was time for her to become a fulltime Mother. I had a very good salary and benefits package from working for Sir Richard.

I for one could not wait to become a Father or should that be Mother No 2? In any case, I didn’t care. I was not hiding myself undercover any longer. We have a whole life to live together as a family.

Oh, and finally, Sean has an appointment to see a Doctor about gender issues and Caitlin’s parents have tacitly given me their approval although my hair did cause some conversation until Caitlin thumped the table and said ‘the hair stays as long as Tamara wants it to stay’.

I had to wonder if it wasn’t just me who was coming out from undercover? Who cares eh. We certainly don’t.
[The End]