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Diane and the Copper

By: Kezza67



There is very little graphic sex in this story.

*

CHAPTER ONE

I have often heard people say that what goes around comes around; many will sagely refer to the 'circles of time'. If you are to believe those two maxims, then the other old advisory 'you should never go back' is contradictory. You have no choice about going back because the circles of time and what goes around comes around will take you there whether you want to or not. I had not sought to re-visit the past, but it came back to me anyway.

My name is Anderson, Andy Anderson and no that wasn't a whim of my parents. My actual given name is one that tends to make people splutter in their coffee, and ask "What? " So as soon as I had a choice in the matter I would only answer to Andy, preferring to disassociate myself from my parent's flight of fancy. It also helped in 'The Job'. It would be difficult to maintain order and respect if my co-workers and subordinates laughed every time my name was mentioned. The job was being a policeman. Amongst coppers our employment was referred to simply as 'The Job'. I had joined when I was twenty-one after trying a variety of employments since I left school at eighteen. The pretty picture of prospects painted by potential employers vanished quite quickly, the interviewer being economical with the truth purely to get another 'coolie' onto the treadmill. The Police on the other hand paid you quite well from the start and if you could take the discipline it was a good job with real prospects; that is, if you stayed alive and uninjured! I adapted to the work, the discipline and managed to stay alive. 

I was now thirty-five. I had pounded the beat, got beaten up a couple of times by nefarious characters who didn't want to come quietly and administered punishments to a few who I knew were guilty but evidence to convict them was insufficient for the CPS to prosecute. I had done a stint in the Traffic section and plain clothes work attached to the C.I.D. I had been married and divorced. Now I had made Inspector. Along the way I had seen how some people would treat other people; I was no longer surprised at the depths of depravity to which human beings could descend. Yet I liked the job, purely because you could make a difference. When some utter lowlife who preyed on innocent people was banged up for a few years you got a great deal of satisfaction.

The divorce was inevitable really. There was an adage in the Force, 'Coppers should only marry in the family'. That is the relatives of other coppers who understood the life. The pressure of work and the compulsory overtime meant that I could be working sixteen hour days seven days a week. Overtime was necessary as our officers were too often sitting at a desk for hours in the Police Station filling in the innumerable forms demanded by the Home Office. Our politicians seemed of the opinion that paperwork was productive; for that gave them the dodgy statistics they could spout in the House of Commons making them look impressive; even though it kept good Coppers off the streets where they could actually prevent crime! When I did get home I was so knackered that sleep was the only priority. Wives need to be told often that they are loved and needed more than the physical proof of that. Shirley, my wife was loved, but my lifestyle was not conducive to normal married life. Eventually she sat me down one day using those dreaded words.

"Andy. We need to talk." Actually she talked and I listened. The essence of the talk was that there was little point in our remaining married. She wanted out. There were no arguments, no screaming fights. She knew that I had been faithful, given my workload I would have little opportunity to cheat. If she had cheated I would never know for certain. Perhaps she had as she found a new man very quickly and moved in with him. Whatever we parted without acrimony and I wished her luck with the rest of her life even though she took most of our assets with her. Shortly after that I applied to take the test for Inspector.

When you made Inspector you get transferred. The powers that be believed that you would find it difficult to maintain discipline with men who had been your peer group. When I joined the Force my first posting was away from my home town, very much for the same reasons. Now I was transferred back to where I grew up. I would have preferred somewhere else, but you have to go where there is a vacancy or wait, in your present grade until another posting becomes available.

I had only been away for a few years yet the place had changed. The old High Street which had been full of shops owned and operated by locals now had its share of multiples and the inevitable Mall. It was now a restricted zone, buses, taxis and emergency vehicles only. The supermarkets had driven the small grocers, the butchers and the greengrocers out of business and the premises they had vacated were now taken by financial institutions, estate agents and charity shops. The Pubs where I had taken the occasional refreshment as a youth had metamorphosed into trendy wine bars. The problems at closing time were still the same though. Young men totally wasted on 'designer' cocktails vomiting in the gutter, or emboldened with drink becoming aggressive. Then there were the young women, well watered with alcohol, dressed whatever the weather according to the fashion that less is better; allowing views of their person that only their Doctor or lover should see. At closing time, particularly on Friday and Saturday evenings we would have a strong presence in the town centre, with our van close by. The Van had a lock-up cage in the back and I am sorry to say it had much use on those evenings ferrying inebriated young men and women back to the Nick or the hospital to regret their intemperance the next morning.

Although this was where I grew up, I had little social interaction now. My parents, who were both in their forties when I was born had retired and moved to Cyprus where they had bought a Villa. Mum had taught Art and Design, she was mainly responsible for my unusual name and Dad was in the Music department at Birmingham University. I don't think they had ever considered being parents and had little idea of what parenting was about. It must have been quite a shock to them when mum got pregnant. Needless to say I was an only child. The crowd I had hung around with when in my late teens and early twenties had moved away and the girls presumably married now would have a different name anyway. As a policeman I could have used the police database to find some of them, but my enquiries would be logged and I would have to answer questions as to what I was about. Using the computer for personal reasons was a disciplinary offence.

An Inspectors job is much more desk bound than the Sergeants and Constables. But I tried to get out as much as possible. It helped to have the guy with glitter on his cap peak around if anything was happening. The police force is a family within itself. It doesn't matter where you are posted, you will find someone you have worked with before, or with whom you have mutual acquaintances. John Atherton, the Superintendent in my new job had been the Desk Sergeant at my first station. He welcomed me happily. We exchanged the news of old friends, new friends, and what was happening in our lives. He was sorry to hear of my divorce but not surprised. It was a common occurrence amongst Coppers. In his office we were Andy and John. In front of the troops I called him Sir, and he called me Inspector. After work in the pub we reverted to Andy and John. He liked a drink after the relief signed on and I joined him. I had never been a great drinker. When I first went out with my mates to pubs, I learnt that alcohol and I were not the best of friends. I wasn't alcohol intolerant, but damned close to it. It didn't stop me from enjoying myself, but having a clear head when those around you hadn't was interesting to say the least. Going to the pub with the lads was informative, as they would let slip juicy gossip that they would never talk about officially. Because I was new, single and not a drinker many of the civic duties slipped into my in tray. It was on one of those duties that I met Diane again.

Diane had belonged to the same group of friends as I in my late teens. She was definitely a girl to look at twice and then once again. She was slim, about five four, and although she didn't look busty at first the third glance you gave her told you that underneath her blouse she had delights to gladden the heart of any red-blooded man. Her hair was long and waved naturally down to just below her shoulders. Actually it was the hair that you noticed first as it was that lovely shade of dark rust they call auburn. After the hair it was her smile. People smile and you can tell that they are forcing it onto their lips. Diane's smile was so natural and came so easily to her mouth, that you never forgot it. We had been friends, and I had always wanted to ask her out, but at that time you never trod on one of your mate's toes and it always seemed that she was seeing another guy when I was between girlfriends, and I then had a girlfriend when she was without a boyfriend, although that was rare, Diane was a Ten! Notwithstanding this we had always got on well together. She seemed to have achieved a permanent relationship with a bloke called Terry. I didn't know him well, but I thought he was a bit untrustworthy and not good enough for her, but I would, wouldn't I? It was at that time that I joined the Police and moved away. I heard later that Diane and Terry had got married. Why didn't I try harder to date Diane? It was the usual excuse. Diane was the top dolly; in my reticence I convinced myself that I didn't really stand a chance. My upbringing as a single child had not endowed me with a lot of confidence socially; I was unsure and hid my lack of self-esteem behind an air of reservation. The Police work changed that. In 'The Job' you couldn't hide.

I had gone to talk to a small group that wanted to set up a neighbourhood watch scheme. It was an area of good quality three and four bedroom homes, which of late had become targets for the opportunist burglars. The really upmarket houses had learned the lessons and had armed themselves with all sorts of alarms and CCTV cameras. That was enough defence to deter the less professional of our light fingered friends, so now they targeted the slightly lower class properties. My job was to advise them how to maximise the security of their homes, recognise suspicious behaviour and liaise with their neighbours to maintain the observation until such time as a Police presence was available. The meeting was taking place in one of the group's homes. When you get up to address a gathering of more than twenty people you tend not to see faces in detail so I was dumbstruck when I saw this smile aimed at me from the back of the room. There was only one smile like that and even though I hadn't recognised her at first, I knew it was Diane.

After the meeting Diane came up to me as I was drinking the inevitable cup of dire coffee. I knew immediately why I hadn't recognised her. That beautiful long Auburn hair that would have alerted me had been cut short. She still looked good, but for a man who enjoyed the long tresses of a woman's crowning glory it was saddening. Her smile, though, was just as warm as it had been fifteen years ago.

"Hello Pug, you are the last person I thought I would see here." Diane was one of the few who knew my real name, but knowing my dislike never used it. She had always shortened it to Pug and that caught on with the rest of our friends. My name was actually Pugin; my mother admired the work of the designer Augustus Pugin who died in eighteen fifty-two. So a hundred and some odd years later she saddled me with the name.

"Diane." I held out my hand to shake hers hoping that she wouldn't feel the sudden pulsing of my blood. "It's really good to see you again. You made me lose my thread when I recognised you at the back there." She grinned.

"Thanks Pug. It's nice to know that I still have an effect on some." Coppers listen to what people say and how they say it. I could read quite a lot into those words. Interesting! 

"So you must live around here." That had to be true else she would not have been at the meeting.

"Yes, the house is just down the road, about two hundred yards." She said the house, not her home. Why was that?

"How's Terry." I asked. The smile weakened a little.

"Oh, you know. He's selling cars now. But what about you, Pug? I didn't know that you were working here in Sutton." The abrupt change in direction was significant.

"I was posted here just four months ago. That was when I was promoted to Inspector."

"Where were you before?"

"Coventry." 

At that point we were interrupted by the old guy who wanted to get this Neighbourhood Watch scheme up and running. You know the sort. Having retired, he sought any opportunity to find a role that would make him feel important. During the Second World War he would have been an ARP (air raid precautions) warden, just so he could boss people and pry into his neighbours lives. Now that sort of person sets up Neighbourhood Watch schemes for exactly the same reasons.

"Ah! There you are Inspector Anderson. Do you think I could have a quiet word with you?" He looked at Diane telling her wordlessly that her presence would not be needed. "I am sure Mrs. Bowden can spare you." I did my duty and listened to the boring fart as he tried to have me appoint him with powers that were well beyond the bounds of the watch schemes. Diplomatically I pointed out that he wouldn't have the power of arrest or search. Nor would his suspicions alone be evidence of wrongdoing.

"You must leave that to the Police, Mr. Fearnly. That's what we are here for." He was unconvinced and upset that he couldn't throw his weight around; he undoubtedly would anyway and so antagonise his neighbours that the scheme would founder within a few months.

I had to leave then and caught Diane as she was walking down the drive. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. Quietly she said.

"You'll have trouble with him." I nodded, and as we got to the road and away from wagging ears I remarked.

"Yes. Almost every scheme has someone like Mr. Fearnly." I walked towards my car. It was a Rover 75. Diane chuckled.

"No strawberry stripe and blue lights?" I shook my head.

"You're behind the times, Diane. They go for the checkerboard patterns now. I refused to let them paint my car as I didn't really want to be recognised as a Copper in my time off. Anyway it's my private car, not a police vehicle." I hesitated a moment. "Can I give you a lift?"

"Thanks Pug, but my house is only just down the road. It's lovely to see you again." It was her turn to hesitate. "Could we get together over coffee or lunch some time? I would love the opportunity to catch up after all these years."

"Of course, I would like that. Shall I phone you?"

"Er...better not. Can I phone you?"

"No problem." I took out my pocket book and wrote my telephone number down, ripped off the sheet and gave it to her."

"Is that the Police station?"

"No. That's my home number. "She nodded thoughtfully.

"I'll call you." She put her hand on my arm raising her head as if to give me a peck on the cheek. I leaned back sufficiently to prevent that.

"I'm sorry, Diane. I'm in uniform." She blushed.

"I should have thought, sorry. I'll call you." As she walked away she turned with a mischievous grin.

"You had better not be in uniform when next we meet."

CHAPTER TWO

Diane caught me a couple of days later, and suggested we meet for coffee somewhere the following morning.

"No can do Diane. I'm on early shift tomorrow. If you want we can get together today if you're not doing anything else."

"Ok Pug. Meet me at Wetherspoons. What shall we say, about an hour?"

"That will be good for me."

I walked into Wetherspoons fifty five minutes later, ordered a coffee and sat down. Even before my coffee had arrived Diane came in, looked around and with that wonderful smile came over to join me. She offered her cheek for a kiss.

"I'm glad you're not wearing uniform, although I have to say you looked very well in it." 

"Well if we're complimenting then I shall have to say that you always did and still do look fantastic." 

"Thank you, my gallant gentleman." My coffee arrived and I asked the girl if she would bring another.

"I'm sorry Pug, but I can't stay long. I do a little part time job at a dress shop, and they phoned me just after I spoke to you asking if I could come in. One of the girls has had to go home unwell."

"I am desolate, Diane. But I shall not cry, only allow my bottom lip to quiver a little." She laughed.

"You bugger! God! That brings back memories. That was just the way you used to say things back then. It always got me in stitches." I was smiling too as I remembered those days. Life was so simple then. There was a whole bunch of us girls and blokes. I had felt safe in that group which allowed me to come out of my shell a little. Our particular little circle was constant, but could expand and contract as other similar groups would coalesce with us for a while then split. Diane had been in another group, but after one of the mingled periods seemed to stay with us. That pleased us lads very much. Diane sipped her coffee.

"I am certain that some woman has snapped you up by now." She asked a question but phrased it as a comment.

"Yes and no." She looked curious.

"What does that mean?"

"I was married, but it didn't work." She nodded glumly.

"Isn't that always the way. You remember Pete?" I searched my memory.

"Yes, wasn't he studying to become an Architect?"

"He did. A good one I believe. He came home early one day and found his wife in bed with another guy. Then there was Caroline, you certainly remember her." Diane had an evil grin on her face. Of course I remembered Caroline. At one party things got out of hand, or should I say in hand, and Caroline and I were getting very personal on the floor behind the settee. I had unbuttoned her blouse, lifted her bra and was making a meal out of her nipples when she went rigid with shock. At first I thought my technique must have been superlative, but then following the direction of her gaze I looked up and there were five faces leaning over the back of the settee watching the proceedings with huge grins on their faces. Diane was one of those faces.

"Now you mention it, I do remember Caroline." Diane grinned.

"Yes you ought to. Some guy got her pregnant. They married, then after a couple of years he just vanished. He left her with an eighteen month old baby. He just buggered off." She looked at her watch. "Oh damn, I have to do the same. I'm sorry Pug; I was so looking forward to a good catch up. Can I call you again?"

"Yes, but I shall be doing either early shift or late shift for the next few days so it may be a little difficult."

"No problem. I shall keep calling until I get you. Sorry Pug, must dash." She pecked me on the cheek and got up. Just before she left she turned back.

"I was always very jealous of Caroline." She whispered. "I would have preferred it was my nipples you were kissing." Then she was gone. I remained in a state of shock. Did that mean what I thought it meant, that Diane had fancied me and I never realised? That thought was brought to mind frequently over the next few days, examined and re-examined. Was it just a throw away remark, or did it have a deeper meaning? Needless to say my emotions favoured the deeper meaning explanation. 

It was two weeks before Diane managed to get me on the phone. She had phoned on a number of occasions and left messages. I couldn't return her calls as she was uncertain about my phoning her at home. The Police worked shifts, seven a.m. to three p.m. (early); three p.m. to eleven p.m. (late) and then eleven p.m. to seven a.m. (night). It was a rolling roster so you would spend an equal amount of time on each of the shifts. Then as the Police were on duty seven days a week the roster had to include the normal days off, two in every seven. Even for the initiated it could be difficult at times. I had to understand it as one of my duties was establishing the roster. Ensuring that I had at least two Sergeants on each shift, sufficient Constables on the ground at the same time allowing for rest days, sick leave, personnel being away on courses etc. etc., was a juggling trick. Grey hair comes with being a Police Inspector.


Diane and the Copper



I heard the warble of the phone just as I got back to my flat after coming off early shift. I hadn't actually left until four; I had paperwork to finish before I could get away. It was Diane

"Pug! At last I've got you. Don't you ever get home?"

"Yeah, from time to time. If someone would tell the criminals to work nine to five it would help enormously." I heard her giggle softly.

"I see your dry sense of humour hasn't changed."

"No. Although some would call it a cynical sense of humour these days."

"Oh no. You were the least cynical person I knew."

"Fifteen years as a Copper will make you cynical."

"I suppose so and fourteen years of marriage will do that as well." I couldn't say anything to that. From the things that Diane had said two weeks ago I had suspected that her marriage was not all it should be. She hurried on as if she had said too much. "When can we meet? I can fill you in on more scandals of our friends and catch up with what's happening in your life."

"I have got two rest days coming up from Thursday. Shall we have Lunch?"

"That would be good. Have you lots to do on Thursday?"

"Quite a lot of washing and ironing. " I replied. "But nothing that can't be put off until Friday. Do you want to make it Thursday?"

"Sounds good."

"Where shall we go?" I asked. "I am not too knowledgeable of good places now."

"We'll go to the 'Bird in Hand'." Suggested Diane. "It's quite good there."

"Ok. Now I suspect you won't want me to pick you up at home, will you?"

"Not a good idea. Mr. Fearnly is taking his duties very seriously Do you know he is even patrolling the avenue?" I laughed, I had suspected he would. "Do you know Cedar Parade?" She went on. I did. It was a small block of shops. "Meet me there at noon."

"Will do."

"Pug?"

"Yes?"

"No uniform, please."

"It's my day off, Di." I complained.

I drove slowly down Cedar Parade. There was a Post Office at the end of the small line of shops and Diane was waiting for me there. She was wearing a rather pretty full skirted sundress in yellow and green and high-heeled strapped sandals. She took my breath away. She jumped straight into the car, and leaned across and kissed me on the cheek. She was in a good mood.

"All those years, Pug. And that was a far as we got. A kiss on the cheek."

"I treasured them Diane, floated on cloud nine. The loveliest girl in our crowd gave me a kiss on the cheek. Now that was something." She giggled.

"Was I?" Diane was fishing.

"Diane! I just said it, didn't I? I'm a Copper; you can trust Coppers to tell the truth." I turned to smile at her. "Now where's this 'Bird in Hand'?

"Go towards High Barn, and turn right up Stoke Road." I did, remembering these places as I drove along. High Barn had changed dramatically. It had once been a simple crossroad the junction named after the public house that had once been there. Now it was three lanes in every direction controlled by multiple lights. I was turning right and suddenly realised that the green was only for traffic going straight on or turning left. I hit the brake at the last moment. As luck would have it I stopped before I had conflicted with the traffic coming in the other direction, but not lucky enough to escape the interest of one of our traffic patrols. He sat in his car shaking his head at me until he realised who I was. His face immediately split into a wide grin. He would be drinking on his mates after his shift.

"Oh bugger!" I moaned. The traffic cop got the green for filter left, and as he came alongside me he slowed and his window slid down.

"These lights can be confusing Inspector Anderson, can't they?"

"It's very different since I was last here about fifteen years ago." I replied. But he wasn't interested in what I was saying, he had clocked Diane.

"Drive carefully Sir." He accelerated away.

"That will be all round the Nick when he gets off." Diane was enjoying my blushes hugely.

"Pug, you're blushing." She laughed. The light changed and I made the turn.

"Yes, and I will blush even more when I get back on duty. The comments will be flying about."

"What will they be saying?"

"Oh, just that Andy Anderson has only been here for four months and he already has a cracker of a bird in tow."

"I haven't been called a bird for years. I didn't like it then, but somehow I quite like it now. Makes me feel young again." She was quiet for a moment. I could sense that something was bubbling. "Am I a cracker, Pug?"

"You know damn well you are Diane." She smiled happily.

"It's nice to know, thank you, Pug."

I carried on driving down the Stoke Road until she told me that we were close. I saw the place as I came round a bend and slowed, turning into the car park. I parked and came round to open Diane's door.

"Thank you. Pug. You were the only gentleman around all those years ago, and you haven't lost your touch." I held her hand as she got out of the car, giving me a glimpse of stocking top as she did. I was astounded. All women wear pantyhose these days, don't they? Diane must have known of the exposure and took her time pulling her skirt down. She smiled knowingly.

We walked towards the pub.

"Why did you say Andy Anderson then?" I was off in dreamland thinking of Diane wearing stockings, just stockings and at first couldn't work out the reference.

"Oh! I have always been known in the job as Andy Anderson. You know how I felt about my name. So when I joined and they were looking for a nick-name for me I told them that I answered to Andy and that stuck."

"Do you want me to call you Andy?"

"No Diane. When you called me Pug it brought back so many good memories of when we all went out together as a crowd. You were one of the very few who knew my real name. You knew how sensitive I was and made sure that everyone called me Pug. I was always grateful to you for that." We entered the pub and Diane suggested that we went straight into the Dining area.

"We can have a drink and look at the menu." She chose a seat in the window. As we sat down she looked up at me. "Do you still have that problem with drink, Pug?"

"Fancy you remembering that. Yes I am still afflicted."

"You would be surprised about what I remember." She smiled that knowing smile that women seemed to have perfected. The waitress came and gave us menus and asked if we wanted anything to drink. I raised my eyebrows at Diane and she asked the waitress for a glass of white wine. I ordered my usual. Sparkling mineral water with a slice of lemon, but no ice. When the bottle has been kept in a cool cabinet I can't see the reason for putting ice in, but they always do. As the waitress left Diane reached across the table and took my hand.

"It feels so good to be here with you, Pug. All those years and I never thought I would see you again." She took her hand back as the waitress brought our drinks. We lifted our glasses and silently toasted each other.

"Pug! Why did we never get together?" I was well aware of why we didn't.

"Temerity on my part I suppose. You were the prize, all the lads wanted to go out with you, believe me I wanted that as well but I could never summon the courage to ask. Then it seemed that you were never without a boyfriend when I was without a girlfriend, or vice versa. Anyway, I knew I had little chance with you." 

"Yes I can remember the convention. You never went after another girl's boyfriend or another boy's girlfriend." She looked me in the eyes. "You had more chance than all of the others, if only you had pushed harder. I only joined your circle because of you." I was dumbfounded. She let me get over the shock then asked slyly. 

"Was I the prize, Pug?"

"Stop fishing, Diane." She laughed delightfully.

"Well the convention was bloody stupid." She sounded a little angry. "If we had got together perhaps we would still be together, and my life would have been a bit better than it has been." Our food arrived saving us from getting into deep waters. I thought that Diane was being a little too honest with me. She had said enough for me to understand that her marriage was hollow. She needed reassurance when I complimented her, as if somewhere along the way she had lost confidence. It was time to say things about the police force and marriage.

"The Police Force is not particularly conducive to long relationships. The divorce rate amongst Coppers is very high." She took notice of my comment, but not in the way it was intended.

"Yes. You said you were married?" I nodded. "What happened?" I took a deep breath.

"Too many long hours when Shirley was alone at home. My coming home so wound up that I wasn't capable of civilised conversation. Missing important events, anniversaries, birthdays, the meals out we had planned and the like because I was doing compulsory overtime. Oh and the idea that one day I would go to work and not come home again except in a coffin. Just about everything you need to make a marriage work. She got fed up, and I don't blame her, told me she wanted out and we got divorced. It's a good job we didn't have any kids." Diane was sympathetic.

"But you didn't cheat? " I shook my head. "Well at least your wife knew that you were doing something worthwhile. I have almost the same situation, an absent husband pretty well every evening, but mine is out chasing skirt." I wasn't totally surprised with her comment; after all she had been dropping hints quite a lot

"I can't believe that. Surely no man would be out looking for dross, when he has gold at home." Diane's countenance changed from sorrow to happiness, the brilliant smile shone once more.

"Pug! You are so good for me. You boost my confidence, and you, my Pug, are not so shy now. Is the job still like that? I mean long hours."

"For the lads on the ground it is. At my rank it is better. We still do the shifts so that can interfere with your social plans a little but I don't get stuck too much with extra duties."

"So seeing me from time to time would be possible?" That shook me, where was Diane going with this?

"Well I suppose so." That was all I could say for the moment. I had to do some thinking though.

The conversation changed as we ate our meals. Diane brought me up to date on more of what our old friends were doing, those that hadn't moved away. One item of great interest was about Jacky. Jacky was the plain girl of the group. To compensate she had a personality that would light any room and the wickedest tongue. I recall an incident when we were all meeting at a pub. Jacky came in late, and stopped all conversation in the bar when she declared loudly. "Don't let the bottom fall out of your world, take Enos, (a well known laxative) and let the world fall out of your bottom!" It goes without saying that we were asked to leave. Beyond that she was possessed of the most gorgeous tight little Bum any girl had ever been blessed with. Now, according to Diane, she owned and was running one of the Wine Bars in the town, it was called 'Jacqui R's'. When Diane told me that she watched my face until the penny dropped. She saw the moment that understanding came to me. I laughed and she joined in with the laughter. (Authors note. To our friends across the pond. In the UK Ass is spelt arse and the 'r' is pronounced.) What she said next astounded me.

"On Friday and Saturday nights, when she behind the bar, Jacky will wear one of those caterers' aprons in black. The thing is Pug, that underneath it she wears a T shirt and panties." I looked puzzled, and then Diane explained. "Just a T shirt and delicate lace panties." My face must have been a picture, and she giggled. "Oh Pug. The look on your face." I grinned back.

"Well I think I shall have to go there." 

"You must make a point of ordering a drink from the lower shelves." Again I was perplexed.

"Why?" 

"Because as she bends down the sides of the apron part, and..." Mischievously she left the rest to my imagination.

"Bloody hell!" I exploded. Diane nodded.

"She keeps all the most expensive drinks on the lower shelves." I started to laugh as I understood the ploy. With my 'man' hat on I could see the attractiveness of the situation, but with my police hat on, I wondered if we were looking at a case of indecent exposure. There were no complaints on file otherwise I would be aware. Then I rationalised, if Jacky was wearing panties, then no one would see more of her than if she were wearing a bikini bottom. I still had to go and see though. What man wouldn't? I told Diane what I was thinking. She summed it up pithily.

"It's not a case of indecent exposure, more a case of decent exposure, knowing how all the girls would have killed for a bum like hers." I got that look from her. "Yes you must go; Jacky will be so pleased to see you. Not as much as I was, but still pleased."

It was getting on for two o' clock when we left the 'Bird in Hand'. As we neared the car I flipped the button to unlock the doors and opened the passenger door for Diane. She didn't get in immediately. Instead as I held the door she moved up close and kissed me on the lips. Her tongue flirted just a little but I didn't open my mouth, much as I wanted to. The kiss ended and she stepped back to look at my face. She gave a weak smile possibly thinking she could have offended me.

"Wasn't that better than a kiss on the cheek?"

"Yes Diane, much better. But possibly inappropriate."

"Why?"

"You are a married woman. That was more than a friendly kiss." She nodded.

"Yes, Pug, it was. I was letting you know that I want to get close to you. I wondered if you would want that which my husband doesn't." She looked sad. "You always treated me well, you never made suggestive remarks. I was Diane to you; all the others called me Di, which I hated. You looked at me when we talked, not at my chest. Was that part of your shyness? Why Pug? Why didn't you look at my breasts? I wouldn't have minded; at least it would have let me know that you liked me as much as I liked you. I still want you to look at them, even see and touch them." I cleared my throat.

"Yes Diane. I did and do." I said hoarsely. "But that was then, when we were young. Now it is different. It is nothing to do with being a Copper, it is me. If you were not married, I would take you back to my flat now and would make love to you all afternoon, evening and night. But you are married, and I will not come between husband and wife."

"Even when the husband is not interested in the wife?"

"Even then." There were tears just glistening at the corners of her beautiful green eyes. It tore me apart.

"Damn you Pug. I have embarrassed myself, and you stand there an upright, priggish, self-righteous bastard. Perhaps you have been in the Police Force too long to understand what real life is all about. How could you possibly understand? My husband doesn't want me. Oh yes he did at first, he wanted to be the guy that got Diane between the sheets, so he could brag about it. Let all his mates know that he was the Man. But Terry had to keep winning. He went after any bit of stuff that took his fancy, just so he could let everyone know that he was still the Man. He was the Stud. It was the same with his jobs. Oh he could sell, but when he got one job sorted he had to move on, another challenge, another conquest. That left me alone at home, unfulfilled and humiliated. Then when I saw you again I started thinking of the one man who I knew would never dishonour me. The man who would stay faithful. I shouldn't be angry with you Pug, because you have acted as I would want you to act if I were your wife. I am angry with myself for being such a stupid cow." The tears flowed easily now, and I found my handkerchief, offered it to Diane, then took her in my arms. Her body shook.

Gradually the tears dried and her shaking stopped.

"I'm so sorry, Diane. No, I didn't know how Terry was, although I never really liked him, and didn't think he was good enough for you. That was probably because I was jealous." She raised her head, blinking away the last few droplets of tears. A small smile flickered around her lips.

"You were jealous?"

"Yes. I was. Diane I was crazy about you and I still am." That little smile on her lips widened and a spark of hope shone in her eyes. "Are you sure that Terry is seeing other women?"

"Oh yes. He was a very active man in bed for the first two years of our marriage. He hasn't wanted me now for more than six months, and before that it was just once or twice a month. He used to come home and take a shower, but it doesn't hide the remnants of perfume, which wasn't mine. For the past six months he hasn't even shared our bed, he sleeps in the spare room."

"Why don't you divorce him?"

"Pride amongst other things I suppose. My parents warned me against marrying him. My friends did as well, but I wouldn't listen, I knew best. Huh!" I think that before this got any further a long talk was required. For me the answers were obvious, either reconcile or get divorced. I favoured the second option for her, but the first option had to be explored to see if there was a possibility.

"Come on, get in the car. I'll drop you back at Cedar Parade."

"I suppose now that you won't want to see me again?" Diane was tearful again.

"Not at all. Do you think there is any chance that you and Terry could reconcile?"

"How can we? When he is never home enough to talk with me?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Besides I doubt that I would want to reconcile with him. He has hurt me too much."

"So the alternative is divorce." She nodded sadly.

"I suppose so. But it may not be possible."

"Why?"

"Things and suchlike, I can't explain them really." I was confused now and Diane was obviously embarrassed.

"I don't understand, Diane. You say he spends little time with you, that he is out womanising. How could there be any reason not to divorce him?" Diane remained quiet. I was certain that there was something she hadn't told me. Pushing at this moment wouldn't help. It would have to wait until Diane was prepared to talk.

CHAPTER THREE

The next day was also a rest day, so I decided to wander down the High Street and check out 'Jacqui R's'. I found it tucked away in one of the side streets, if my memory was correct it used to be the 'Black Lion'. I pushed the door and entered. Immediately a young man wielding a broom called to me.

"We're not open." Being a Copper has certain benefits. I pulled out my Warrant Card and asked him if Jacky was on the premises. I shouldn't have used the Warrant Card, not on personal business, but I was sure that no one would complain.

"Yeah, she's in the back." He didn't ask who was calling, the card was sufficient introduction. A couple of minutes later Jacky came into the bar. The expression on her face was angry until she recognised me.

"Pug!" She flew round the bar and threw herself at me.

"You Bugger. Tom said it was the Police." She stepped back. "Let me look at you. God you're a sight for sore eyes. How long has it been? When did you get back? Oh shit! It's good to see you. Coffee?" Without waiting for any answers to any of the questions she called to Tom, the young man. "Get us a couple of cups of coffee will you Tom? Oh and Tom, he may be a copper but first of all he is my friend, yeah I know some really disreputable people, he comes in whenever he wants. Ok?" 

We did the catch up bit, and as usual with Jacky it was the dirt that she recounted, who was doing what, which way and with whom. She got enough of my history to be going on with, and then quietly told me.

"Diane's in trouble, Pug. Terry is chasing tarts all over the place. He even had the gall to bring one in here. I put a stop to that, bloody quick too. There's something else as well, but I can't get to the bottom of it. She needs you Pug. You're the only one who can put her life back together." I didn't say anything, I was sure that Diane hadn't told her I was back in Sutton, I needed confirmation that Terry was cheating, and that Diane saw me as the man she wanted in her life. Jacky's next comment said it all. "She always liked you, Pug. She was always dragging us to places she thought you would be. You didn't see it though. Fine bloody copper you are! You couldn't see the clues that were staring you in the face." I could remember that. Diane was always around, but I thought she was with a bloke. Jacky explained.




Diane and the Copper



"Well she couldn't just hang around waiting to see if you would talk to her, could she? You would only talk to her briefly, much to her disappointment. However there was always some lad who would try chatting her up. I got lucky only because I was with Diane. Story of my life, getting the cast offs!" I turned the conversation back to Terry.

"Are you sure he is cheating?"

"Positive. I know Harry, the governor at the 'Bell'. According to him Terry's in there two or three times a week, always with some tart or other. The silly bastard does little to cover his tracks; he's so arrogant that he believes that his shit doesn't smell. I wouldn't be surprised if Harry doesn't have them snogging on CCTV tape." Jacky always did have a way with words, usually coarse. I nodded.

The reason I was asking was not to gather evidence for Diane. In the UK, under a government that relegated the married state to a minor inconvenience, divorce was easy. You ask for one, and you get it. You don't even have to go to a Solicitor; you can fill in all the forms on-line. All I wanted was confirmation that Terry was cheating. Now I knew that I wouldn't be helping to break a marriage. It would appear that Terry had done that already. Jacky was set to play Cupid.

"Shall I get Diane here one day, and then you can surprise her. She will be so happy to see you."

"Too late, Jacky. I had lunch with Diane yesterday." Jacky punched me on the arm.

"You bastard!" She was grinning as she called me names. "So you know all about it already?" I shook my head.

"Diane mentioned it, but I needed a bit more background. You have given me that. I agree with you though. There is something else that she is holding back. I mentioned divorce as a solution. Under the circumstances she should divorce him, but she prevaricated and said that there were other considerations." Jacky nodded.

"Yes that's the impression I got." My copper's hat was on. What hold did Terry have over Diane that would prevent her divorcing him? His infidelity would appear to be blatant, so what was stopping her?

I arrived at the Nick on the Saturday starting at three p.m., the late shift. The notice board in the Locker room was plastered with 'post it' notes congratulating Inspector Anderson on 'pulling'. Most of them were amusing, some quite witty but suggestive. There were a couple on my desk as well. One told me that good looking women were the cause of many R.T.A.'s and nine month accidents as well. The other was from my Superintendent. 'See me, please."

He called "Come in" to my knock. He grinned at me as I came in.

"From all the gossip, Andy. You haven't wasted any time." I smiled with him.

"Just an old friend, John."

"From what has been said, not so old a friend. Is there anything happening?"

"Yes, John, I suspect there will be. But there is a little matter of Divorce first."

"Ah! You're not the cause?"

"No. Her husband has been playing around for years it would appear." He nodded. Divorce and extra-marital relationships were not unknown amongst police and were not reason for censure, unless the relationship brings the Force into disrepute."

"You had better give me her name, just in case." He got his notepad and pen.

"It's Diane Bowden." He looked up.

"Bowden?"

"Yes." The worry lines creased his forehead.

"I am sure that Bob was talking about a Bowden the other day. Hang on." He picked up the phone and dialled an internal number.

"Bob. You were talking about a guy named Bowden. What was his name?" He listened then looked up at me. "Does Terry ring a bell?" I nodded.

"That's her husband's name." 

"Bob, could you spare us a minute. Ok." He put the phone down.

"Andy. Terry Bowden is logged as a person of interest." A person of interest is one who is suspected of criminal activity but for the moment without evidence.

There was a knock on the door and Detective Inspector Bob Parrathwaite came in. He looked at me and grinned.

"Rogue. Who is she?" John answered for me.

"Diane Bowden." That took the grin off Bob's face. At John's invitation he sat down and explained. The C.I.D. had been investigating a racket in stolen cars and log books. The stolen cars would be given a re-spray, new licence plates and the V.I.N (vehicle identification number stamped into the car's frame) would be changed. Terry Bowden had a second hand car site in Erdington, and was possibly being used as an outlet for these 'ringed' cars. He showed me a photograph taken covertly. I recognised him even with the fifteen years since last I had seen him.

"We have no evidence as yet, Andy, every car on his site is kosher, but he has been seen in the company of the guy we suspect is behind the racket on more than one occasion. I am pretty sure he has been shifting some of them without the cars ever getting onto the forecourt."

"Do you think that Mrs. Bowden is aware of this?" Asked John. 

"I would be very surprised if she was. From our conversations she knows very little about what her husband does." Bob agreed with me.

"I doubt that Mr. Bowden would talk about it. The people who he seems to be dealing with are very keen on security and not opposed to violence if required. I would imagine that they have let Terry know what would happen to him if he has a loose-mouth." John summed up the meeting.

"Andy, your personal life is yours, and given that you have known Mrs. Bowden for many years it would seem strange if you stopped seeing her now. Obviously what you have learnt today is privileged. You know you cannot discuss this with your lady friend. Of course if she were to let slip anything that would help Bob in his enquiries? Well you know your duty." If Diane did say anything of that nature I would have to tell Bob. I would feel like a complete shit of course. But I was certain it wouldn't come to that. Diane knew nothing about her husband's activities. Now was that reason or emotion? I gave John and Bob my assurances and we went about the business of keeping the streets free of crime.

The shift should finish at eleven that evening, but given that it was a Saturday evening and the pubs and clubs would turn out at any time from eleven thirty until two in the morning, the late shift was kept on even as the night shift signed in. That gave us plenty of plods on the ground for the fun and games. The Inspector of the night shift, Gavin Heally and I discussed how best to deploy our officers and we went out to face the battle. It so happened that I was outside the Bell when Terry Bowden came out amongst the usual crowd of boisterous youngsters. He was with a young girl, I doubt that she was much over eighteen and he was so busy viewing the terrain revealed by her almost completely unbuttoned blouse that he didn't see me. He probably wouldn't have recognised me anyway. We never had that much contact when we were young and people don't recognise Copper's faces, they only see the uniform. With the Cap and the high-visibility vest I was just another plod to him. There was a line of mini-cabs waiting for the revellers. They are not licensed to ply for hire, but must be booked in advance. However at this time of night the police were not too bothered about that little technicality. From our point of view it was better that way than having over the limit drivers causing mayhem with their cars. Terry and this young girl got into one and as it drove away I could see that his hand was already inside her blouse possessing the terrain that he had surveyed just a moment ago. That settled it for me. Now I had no scruples about pursuing a relationship with Diane. There was a dichotomy here, on one hand she said she wanted a deeper relationship, and then on the other there was her hesitation about divorcing Terry. Was she obliquely asking for my help in some way? 

CHAPTER FOUR

Jacky came up trumps with photographs taken off the tapes that the Bell had kept. There was even one of Terry with the girl I saw him with that Saturday night. The next time Diane called I suggested that we meet at Jacqui ' R's. I was certain that Jacky would be happy to add her two penny's worth about Terry. Diane was sitting down drinking coffee with Jacky when I arrived. Jacky called Tom for another coffee and I bent over and gave Diane a kiss on the lips. She was delighted but still had a question on her face. Jacky was also delighted.

"About bloody time too. Now get a room, get naked and get dirty for Heaven's sake!" Was her comment. I reassured Diane.

"It's ok. You will understand in a minute." Jacky had gone behind the bar, and came back with an envelope. She took out the photos and laid them on the table in front of Diane. It doesn't matter how you feel about your partner, evidence of their cheating will still sadden you and I could see the tears in her eyes as she looked through the pictures.

"Bastard!" I pointed to the one that showed him with the girl on Saturday night.

"I was on duty on Saturday evening and I saw him come out of the Bell with her. I am sorry Diane, but his intentions for her were very plain. She nodded, the tears glistening on her cheeks. I wiped them away with my fingers. 

"He didn't come home at all Saturday night. " Diane looked at Jacky.

"Can I keep these?" Jacky nodded.

"No problem, I can get more if your solicitor needs them." Diane went quiet. Jacky pressed her. "You are going to see a solicitor, aren't you?" Diane looked at me then at Jacky.

"I'll have to give it some thought."

"What?" Jacky almost exploded. "Just some thought? Diane he is rubbing your face in the shit. He is banging any tart that takes his fancy. What the hell is holding you back?" I could see that Diane was very uncomfortable. I took her hand.

"Diane. Let's go and have some tea and a quiet talk."

I had bought a flat shortly after moving back to Sutton. The building had used to be a Bank built in Edwardian times and had been converted into four large luxury apartments. They were on the market at a high price and none had sold. As an Inspector I was earning a good salary, the Police paid well as they didn't want their officers to have money troubles; a policeman with economic problems could be susceptible to bribery. I was able to bargain with the developer and got a substantial reduction in the price, add to that as a police officer I had access to very low rates on a Mortgage.

Diane wandered around the flat as I made tea. She came and joined me in the kitchen just as the kettle boiled.

"Pug it's a lovely flat, so spacious. But it appears as if no one lives here. No pictures, no ornaments, just basics. Have you nothing to show for your life? No fond memories?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"Come on Diane. I have been here less than four months. I haven't really had a chance to go out and get that stuff."

"You don't buy that stuff as you put it. It's what you collect as you go through life. I mean the little ornaments that you bring back from holidays, the little gifts, and pictures of your family. All the bits and pieces that remind you of your life. That's what I was talking about." It had never occurred to me before. I looked around; there was nothing to remind me of any good times or family. I shook my head. There was nothing to say I was anything but a Copper. Diane came and put her arms around me.

"You are in some ways in a worse position than me. Oh Pug! What has life done to us?"

After a moment of commiserating with each other we sat down to drink the tea. At least I had furniture if nothing else.

"Why did you have your hair cut short?" I questioned.

"Don't you like it?" She said, raising her hand to fluff at the side.

"That wasn't the question. Do you like it short?"

"Why, would you like to see it longer?" It amused me that Diane like most women seemed to answer a question with another.

"Diane. It's a simple question. Why did you have your hair cut short?" I smiled as I asked, letting her know that there was no anger in the question

"Terry wanted it. He said my long hair made me look old." I shook my head.

"Did you want to cut your hair?"

"Not especially. Shall I grow it back?"

"Do you want to grow it back?" I emphasised the word 'you'.

"Would you like it?"

"No. It's not about if I would like it. It's what you want." Finally she actually answered.

"I would."

"Good. Then do it." She seemed happy that the question had been resolved.

"Was that interrogation necessary?"

"Yes it was. You have decided to do something that you want. It makes a statement. You're taking your life back into your own hands." 

"Ok I will ask the questions now." She was smiling. "Will you like my hair longer?"

"Yes."

"Good, in that case I am happy to let it grow." She grinned. "But I will because it's what I want, and not just because it will please you. Even though you have become so masterful." She commented dryly. I laughed and Diane joined in the laughter. We relaxed then, drinking tea and reminiscing about the things we had done when younger and the friends we had known.

Just then the phone warbled. I got up to answer; it was bound to be the station. The phone was in the kitchen. As I picked it up, Diane motioned that she was going to the bathroom. I tried to get off the phone reasonably quickly. The call was from another Inspector on late shift. He wanted to adjust the roster for personal reasons, and asked if I would change to accommodate him. I eventually agreed just to get rid of the man.

As the apartment had been converted from old offices, the layout was not as straightforward as purpose built flats would be. I couldn't see the door to the bathroom from the kitchen, so didn't know if Diane had returned to the lounge or not. I looked into the lounge and she wasn't there. I wandered round the corner to the bathroom, the door was open and her stiletto's lay at odd angles on the carpeted floor as if they had been kicked off carelessly. Just three feet away down the corridor was her skirt, two feet from that was her blouse, and then her brassiere. I followed the trail towards my bedroom picking up the garments as I did so. I held them to my nose inhaling the fragrance of this lovely woman. The door was open slightly and hanging on the door knob was a scrap of skimpy lace, which women wear instead of panties. I pushed the door open and entered the bedroom. Diane was in my bed, the covers pulled up so that just her face was showing and the mischievous gleam in her eyes. She smiled.

"I feel quite at home in your bed, Pug. It is so comfortable that I am only wearing a garter belt and stockings. It feels very sexy, but something, or rather someone, is missing. You! So why don't you take your clothes off as well and join me?" I found it hard to say anything, eventually getting out just two words.

"Diane! I..." She interrupted me.

"I know what you are going to say. I'm married. We both know that is in name only. Pug for God's sake. Forget the scruples. That was when we were young. Now is now and life hasn't been kind to either of us. It took a lot of courage for me to do this but just for a moment, just for an hour or two, can we not ease each other's loneliness?" She started to push the sheet down, and gradually her perfect breasts came into view. And they were perfect, wonderfully curved, sitting pertly on her chest with two hard nipples begging to be kissed and sucked. "I wanted to show you my breasts; there they are do you like them? Now I want to show you all of me." The sheet was pushed down even further. Her stomach was very gently rounded, her navel winking naughtily at me. Then the Garter belt came into view stretched taut from hip to hip. "Do I show you more, Pug? Do I show you my little lady who is already wet for you? Or will you turn away and leave me to cry a little before I get dressed again?" What little remained of my conscience lost the battle. All those years when I didn't dare ask her out, begged me to enjoy this moment. My head was scrambled as my little head urged me forward. I started to take my clothes off. Diane watched me eagerly with a smile. As my boxers dropped to the floor she threw back the cover and opened her arms to welcome me.

"Don't wait." She murmured. "I am so wet, take me now. We have time for everything else later." Her legs parted and as I covered her she took me in hand and guided me into her warm welcoming depths. She cried as we joined. "Oh God at last."

One of the very best things about making love is not the act itself, delightful and all-consuming as that may be, but laying in the aftermath, holding each other close, thighs and bellies slick with conjoined essences, kissing and talking. Truths will be spoken at that time; Diane and I were no exception.

"That, Diane was a turning point in my life." I could feel her nodding, her head tucked into the hollow between my shoulder and chest. "Getting into bed with you was overwhelming, there was more emotion going through my head than I think my brain could cope with. How my body managed I do not know."

"It is the same for me. I have waited so long for this." She moved slightly her hand coming over my body to clasp my hip. "But your body coped very, very well. I've still got tingles where I have never had tingles before." She kissed my chest. Then flicked her tongue across my nipple. "I'm sorry Dear Pug, but I am not going to let you go. When I can sort this mess out, will I be welcome here?

"Do you have to ask?" She raised her head looking upwards at me.

"Yes. I should ask. This isn't sudden for me. I have known how I feel about you for years. Back then it wasn't done for a girl to chase a boy. I tried to let you know how I felt about you, so that you would ask me out, but you wouldn't go against the accepted code of conduct or were too shy to ask. You got those photos to convince yourself as much as me." I had to agree, she was right. "It's different now. Young girls chat up the boys they fancy. I acted like a slut, but I don't care because now I am in bed with the man I always wanted. Who has just made love to me beautifully."

"You are right Diane. I did need confirmation that he was cheating. It was only then that I could admit my feelings for you. You need to know though, that I am not here for just a moment, or for a year or so. For me this is always." I paused. "And you don't have to wait until you are divorced. " She smiled serenely raising her lips for my kiss.

"I know Darling. The moment I got into your bed I knew that I was home, there was this lovely scent of you, this was where I had to be, this was my place." Her hand moved and found my penis. It quickly reacted to her hand. "Oh! Interested again? That's good because I need more of you. I have a great deal of making up to do." We took our time, exploring with eyes, fingers and tongues, enjoying a surfeit of the senses. Diane murmured to me as we made love.

"Feeling you inside me, moving so gently yet so powerfully is a dream come true. I have fantasised about this for years. The reality, though is so much better than the dream."

"I know. I have done the same, never thinking for a moment that it could come true." We joined each other in cries of passion. Later I worshipped in the shrine at the juncture of her thighs, sipping greedily of her effusions. Her cries of delight spurred me. She in turn took my erection in her hand and mouth, slowly drawing me to that moment the French call 'La Petit Mort'. She raised her head smiling, my spending glistening on her lips and cheeks.

"I was never keen on doing that, but I loved having you in my mouth. I shall have to practice often, Pug. So be prepared."

We got up about six o' clock, thirsty, hungry and well satisfied. Diane found one of my uniform shirts in the linen basket and put it on wandering into the kitchen as she fastened just two buttons. It had never looked so good before. Above and below those buttons her beautiful form was revealed for anytime I cared to look. I looked a lot.




Diane and the Copper



"God! You are so gorgeous." She smiled and just stood, allowing me to look all I wanted. "There was a clean shirt in the drawer." She shook her head.

"No, I wanted this one, it smells of you." She lifted the front exposing more of her breast and sniffed. I was looking and admiring this beautiful, wonderful woman. She noticed my gaze and smiled.

"I adore having you look at me with so much desire in your eyes. It's like a warm wave washing over me. I love it." I had put some bread in the toaster, and filled the kettle. The toast popping up reminded us of why we were here, to eat! She found the butter in the fridge, and then pulled drawers until she found the knives. 

"Have you any Jam?" I pointed to the larder cupboard.

"I think there is some in there." She searched and came up with a jar of Blackcurrant. She laughed.

"My favourite."

"Mine too." I responded.

We sat down to eat the toast and drink tea. It's funny how making love leaves you so thirsty. Diane was in playful mood.

"Right, Inspector Anderson. You didn't learn all that when we were young. I suspect that you didn't learn all that with your wife. So where have these lovely things you did with me come from? I especially liked it when you kissed me down there that was electrifying. Terry would never do that, but insisted I suck him. So who taught you? I hate her but am grateful to her as well." I grinned.

"It just comes naturally." Her eyes gleamed mischievously.

"I know. We both came naturally, quite a lot of times in my case. It just goes to show that when you are with the right man, your body takes over, and boy! Did my body take over? Now come on, confess. Where did you get your practice?"

"After Shirley divorced me, I admit that I did have a couple of relationships. One was with another Sergeant."

"What? Are you telling me you did it with another man?"

"A woman Sergeant, Diane. We are not supposed to add the prefix 'woman' to police ranks now. It's not politically correct." I drank some tea. "Now where was I? Oh yes. She was also divorced, and funnily enough approached me in the first place. In essence she suggested that as we were both single again, we should get together from time to time to exercise. Only she didn't mean exercise in a gym, but in her bed. There was little emotion involved, she was just relieving her frustrations as was I. She was in her forties and had quite a large repertoire." Diane grinned.

"Such as?" 

"I'll leave it to your imagination. But you seemed to enjoy one of the activities she encouraged me to do." Diane smiled remembering.

"Mm. I did, didn't I? What else?" I shook my head. "Come on, Pug. Give me a clue." I laughed.

"Ok. Well for one she liked being taken in the back."

"You mean Doggie?"

"Yes, but that wasn't what I meant. Not quite." Her face was one big question mark. I went on. "I really mean in the back."

"No!" I smiled at her expression of shock as understanding came to her. "In the...I mean up the back..?" I nodded.

"Yep. In the bum." Her face was a picture.

"I...I never thought, I mean." She fixed me with her eyes. "You're not kidding?" I shook my head. "Bloody hell! Terry had limited ideas in that direction. Mainly it was him enjoying himself. That he thought was sufficient for both of us." She looked up at me with a small smile. "At the risk of making you more big-headed than you are already, you did more for me in these last few hours than Terry did in fourteen years." 

"Diane. If I was good, it was only because I was making love to you. Any other woman and it would just be mediocre." I think Diane was pleased with that reply as she got up, came round the table and sat on my knee. She kissed me deeply taking my hand and placing on her breast.

"Good answer." She thought for a moment. "Pug, anything you want from a woman, I will give you, whatever it is. I want to do everything but you will have to lead me and if you want to have my bum the answer's yes. I might enjoy that." She giggled. " Lord, what fun we are going to have." This conversation was interesting but the future it suggested would not happen unless Diane did get divorced, and she was showing reluctance to do anything about that.

"Diane. This is all pie in the sky unless you do get a divorce. I know something is holding you back, and you don't want to talk about it, but you have to. Next time we get together you must tell me what the problem is. Think about it, whatever it is maybe I can help." She searched my face for a moment, then nodded.

CHAPTER FIVE

I didn't hear from Diane for some days. Perhaps she was avoiding me as she wasn't ready to talk about whatever it was that held her back. From what she had said when we were together that afternoon her feelings for her husband were quite dead. So what was stopping her? 

Bob Parrathwaite invited me out one evening for a drink. He proposed that we should tour the local clubs and pubs that catered for the more sleazy cliental. Coppers needed to know about the places where the criminal fraternity would gather, and needed to put names to faces. I was doing the driving for obvious reasons. We had made visits to a number of pubs with Bob drinking steadily but not to excess, I was on my usual water. Eventually we came to a night club I had heard of, 'The Abacus'. I doubted that the proprietor knew what an abacus was, however he knew how to make money. We signed in as members for the evening, paying fifteen pounds each for the privilege. The guy on reception would qualify as a gorilla, his well worn and greasy tuxedo stretched tightly over his shoulders and chest. As I signed the members register I, like all coppers, scanned the names of those who had signed in before. It's amazing how many 'Smiths' and 'Blacks' there are as well as one or two who I believed were dead. I am sure that A. Hitler and N. Bonaparte had left this mortal vale. We entered the club, it had been converted from a large old house, and the ground floor rooms had been knocked into one. To the one side there was a bar, to the right of that a plinth and sound desk for the disc jockey. Around the rest of the room were arranged small tables with two seat sofas either side, and some alcoves also containing small tables and sofas. The lighting was minimal, a low wattage bulb in a small table lamp for every table. There were spotlights over the small central area where dancing was possible but only if you wanted to slink around in the same spot. Bob headed towards a table that commanded a view of the whole club, but was tucked away in a corner in semi darkness. He moved the lamp so our faces would be in shadow. A waitress approached, she wore a black dress but there was little of it, the price for our drinks, a sparkling water and a gin and tonic, would have covered the cost of material in her dress easily. A flyer on the table told us that there would be an exotic entertainment later. Bob explained about the club.

"It started up about five years ago aimed at the young kids, but it didn't make money, so it was sold to the present owner, Eric Baddley. He wanted to turn it into a pole dancing club, but the licensing people wouldn't allow that, but he managed to get a licence for music and entertainment. The entertainment is usually a singer, a comedian and occasionally a stripper, but they are never described as such in the advertising. The waitresses may be on the game, but if so they are very discreet. The club attracts some naughty characters, so we like to look in from time to time to see who is talking to whom. The bloke on reception drops information from time to time." 

"Is he on the register?" I asked. The regulations call for all informants to be logged so that payments can be made. They are on the police computer where such information can be accessed by other Forces and the Home Office. The problem is that some Civil Servants in the Home Office are very casual about security, and a few years ago details of some informants were leaked. Those identified as 'grasses' were attacked shortly after, badly beaten up and a couple even murdered. That system is still in place, but some coppers knowing the laissez-faire attitude of the Civil Servants towards security keep secret their best snouts. Bob shook his head at my question.

"No he's not. Not that it would be dangerous for him, can you imagine anyone picking on him?" Good point, anyone stupid enough to try would undoubtedly end up in hospital. We sipped our drinks and Bob grimaced at his Gin and Tonic.

"It's a bit stupid to try that trick this early in the evening." He called the waitress. He explained civilly that the glass should be held under the Optic to get the measure of Gin, not stood upside down in the saucer just to get the flavour around the rim. She had the grace to blush. I was aware of the trick. Stand a glass on its rim in a saucer with a little Gin in, then when someone asks for a Gin and Tonic, just pour tonic into the glass. It may not fool everybody, but someone who had indulged for the evening would be unlikely to spot the con.

Bob would point out to me faces of men known to be involved in criminality, but for the most part the customers were single men and couples who had got up enough courage to brave the seedy side of life. He was spotted a few times by those who for one reason or another had dealings with the police. Those who did recognise him took seats well away, one furtive guy, took one look at Bob and promptly turned around and left.

"That was Ally Simmonds," explained Bob. "He was probably carrying a load of stolen credit cards, hoping to sell them." I grinned. The longer he has to hang on to the cards the less value they have as the block from the issuing Bank takes effect. "It's a pity he clocked me," Bob continued, "it would have been interesting to see who he tried to sell them to."

We had been sitting talking quietly for a while when Bob muttered softly. "Oh Shit!". I looked up to see who could have engendered this comment and saw Terry Bowden accompanied by Diane. Thankfully Terry spotted someone quite quickly without scanning the room, and taking his wife by the hand pulled her towards that someone. I sat back so that Diane, should she look, could not see me, and Bob tried hard to recognise the man that Terry and Diane had joined. The man helped in that as he sat forward to greet them.

"Bingo!" Whispered Bob. "That is Radic, the guy we suspect as being the mover in this car racket. He is rumoured to be an illegal immigrant and we are not even certain his name is Radic. It has been suggested that he is here because the Russian Mafia want him dead. Whatever he is being a very naughty boy whilst he's our guest. Now we know for certain that Terry is involved with him." We watched covertly for a while as Terry bought drinks for the party and was patently obvious in his efforts to curry favour with Radic. I watched Diane and her body language told me plainly that she didn't want to be there, yet Terry was encouraging her to chat with the man. It suddenly came to me. He was going to pimp her! I was filled with rage. Bob had come to the same conclusion and it was only his restraining hand on my arm that prevented me from taking action.

"Don't worry, she will be alright." He pulled out his mobile and phoned his D.S. "Harry! Get some of the lads and a couple of cars together. I want some surveillance done outside the Abacus. I'll indicate the targets when they leave. Get here as quickly as you can."

The next half-hour was agony for me as Terry bullied Diane into being nice to Radic, she even had to dance with him, and the sight of his hands touching her body in an intimate manner was excruciating. Her face was set in an attitude of resigned distaste. Bob was talking to me all the time, calming me down.

"When they leave Andy, I shall follow them out, but you, Mate, will stay here. Mrs. Bowden would recognise you for a start, but mainly because you could bugger up an investigation if you lose your rag." Unwillingly I had to agree.

It was another half hour before the trio moved. Terry got up first and walked away leaving Radic to escort an unhappy Diane to the exit. Bob let them get out into the vestibule before following. I remained, angry and uncertain. Twice I got up to leave before sitting again, my training as a policeman overcoming my natural instincts. Bob had recommended that I wait for at least half an hour before leaving, but I failed. Twenty minutes had gone by before I could stand the suspense no longer and I left the club to see what was happening. The car park was deserted apart from the cars of the clientele, no Terry, no Diane, no Bob and no Radic, nor any of the detectives that Bob had summoned. I walked slowly to my car, hoping that by taking my time someone would miraculously appear. I had started my car and was backing out of the parking space when a car turned in momentarily lighting me up with the headlights. I stopped quickly as the driver was obviously in a hurry. The car braked to a halt behind me, effectively blocking me in and Bob got out of the passenger door. He came to my car and opened the nearside door.

"Couldn't wait, Andy?"

"No. What happened?" He shook his head.

"Nothing really. Terry obviously wanted his wife to go with Radic, and she was not having any. Radic said nothing at all. Then Terry made as to hit her, and Radic caught his arm. Bowden stalked off angrily and Diane followed him. Radic got in his car and drove off with my guys following him. Harry and I followed Bowden to see if he had plans, but he drove home. Once they had gone in the house we came back here. End of story." I was unhappy with what appeared to me an inconclusive end to the saga. But even with my feelings for Diane I would not interfere between husband and wife, well not until divorce proceedings were underway.

CHAPTER SIX

The next day was a rest day, so when the phone rang at just after seven in the morning I was not particularly happy. I stumbled out of bed expecting to hear from the Superintendent on duty asking me to come in and substitute for an absent colleague. At first I didn't hear anything so repeatedly announced my name. Then I heard a groan and my policemen brain switched in.

"Who's there, this is Inspector Anderson. Are you in trouble? Tell me your name please?" The groan came again then a pained voice whispered.

"Pug. It's me, Diane. I'm hurt." Used as I was I could recognise pain in a voice and I heard it then in Diane's voice..

"I'm on my way. Can you open the door?" There was silence for a moment then she said.

"Back door is unlocked."

"Ok. Don't move. I'll be there as soon as possible."

I dressed faster than ever before and was out of the flat in five minutes. Not caring about speed limits I was at Diane's house in fifteen minutes. The habits of the job had kicked in and on the way used the in car phone that the force insisted was fitted to senior ranks personal cars. I called in and told the Desk Sergeant what I knew and suspecting that Diane needed medical help I told him to get an ambulance there. Mr. Fearnly was outside the house when I arrived. He hurried to give me a report.

"The neighbours reported that there was a disturbance here early this morning, shouting and screaming. You got here quickly, I'm impressed, as I have only just called the police." I didn't bother to disabuse him of that impression.

"Would you stay here and keep the road clear for my colleagues and an ambulance?" He eagerly agreed. I ran up the drive heading toward the back gate beside the garage. It was locked. I took a step back and lunged forward, kicking the gate with my foot flat just under the lever. The gate swung back, the screws holding the bolt having ripped from the jamb. I followed the path round until I came to the back door. Normally at this point a policeman would announce his entry calling loudly who he was. I didn't bother, just opening the door and stepping into the kitchen. I quickly checked the downstairs rooms, a precaution in case there was someone on the premises that could be dangerous. I found nothing, so went cautiously up the stairs. I found Diane lying on the carpet at the top of the stairs; her face was bloody and seemed out of shape, her right forearm was bent with a swelling at the point of the bend. Someone had had beaten her up, badly. She was only wearing a nightgown. She lifted her left hand and I grasped it in mine.

"Pug! Thank God, you're here." Her voice was distorted.

"Don't talk for the moment; the ambulance is on its way. We'll get you to hospital and they will sort you out." She shivered. "Are you cold?"

"A bit." I went into the bedroom and got the duvet which I laid over her. The lessons of the compulsory first aid course we all had to take reminding me that she shouldn't be moved. My cursory look around down stairs had me believe that this wasn't the result of a burglary gone wrong. I was convinced that this was Terry's doing. I knelt by her side and caressed her hand. She tried to smile but winced with pain instead.

"I love you, Pug." I put my finger to my lips.

"Shush Diane. I love you too." I was trying to think what I could do to help. "I am going to open the front door for the ambulance men. Oh by the way I have broken your side gate."

"Fuck the side gate!" I smiled, she was fighting.

I opened the front door just as the first responders came up the path. Two uniformed officers, one a policewoman. I told the policeman to have a good look around outside. The policewoman I directed upstairs. I was turning to go back upstairs when another car arrived. It was Bob Parrathwaite; it was evident that he had dressed as quickly as I did.

"What happened, Andy?" I filled him in with as much as I knew. "No signs of break-in? He asked.

"Not as far as I can see. I've got Robin Hurst looking around outside. But I don't think he will find anything." Bob nodded and looked at me.

"You're thinking Terry Bowden?" I nodded. He smiled grimly.

"Stupid. We pull him for this and turn his office in Erdington over. I am sure we will find something, and then he will go down." I was already there in my thinking. If a man is arrested for any offence the police have the right to search any premises he owns or rents, not just his home. If we find anything incriminating we can charge him with two offences. Bowden was an idiot.

"Harry's on his way. When he gets here we will go straight over to his car lot and if he's there we will arrest him. But we need Mrs. Bowden to tell us it was him." 

"I'll go and talk to her." I told him.

The policewoman had done the first aid course as well, and had not moved Diane, just tucked the duvet around her making sure she kept warm. Bob had followed me upstairs; I knelt down and took Diane's hand. Making sure that the policewoman and Bob were listening.

"Diane just reply with a yes or no." She nodded. "Were there intruders?" We don't use the word Burglars now. She whispered.

"No."

"Who did this to you? Was it your husband, was it Terry?" Her face showed sadness and tears eased slowly from her eyes. I thought she wasn't going to answer so I squeezed her hand to re-assure her. Finally she answered.

"Yes." She mumbled. I looked at the policewoman to see if she had heard. She nodded her head, thus corroborating what I had heard. I looked at Bob.

"I'm on my way." Much as I would have liked to see Terry arrested there was no way that I was leaving Diane now, and her hand clinging to mine was a powerful argument. At that point the Paramedics came up the stairs so I had to stand back and let them do their job. The first thing they did was put a neck brace on her at the same time asking her name. I told them. They fussed checking her vital signs then put a saline drip in and fixed her right arm so that it was still when they moved her. Whilst the one did that, the other secured her jaw. Diane could not speak when that was done. After stabilising her they got her onto a back board and prepared to move her. They knew what they were doing, even so I hung around, probably getting in their way but Diane's eyes were always moving following me as I moved to keep out of the medic's way.




Diane and the Copper



Finally they were ready to move her. The back board made everything easy for them and in no time Diane was down the stairs and in the ambulance. The driver got in as the other paramedic closed the doors. She looked at me to say that I should get aboard. "Diane seems to want you with her." I threw my car keys to the policewoman

"Could you get my car back to the Nick?" P.C. Hurst was left to keep the property safe. The SOCO (Scene of Crime officer) would arrive soon to get what evidence she could.

She nodded and I climbed into the ambulance. Diane immediately reached for my hand. As we went the paramedic, her name was Joan, told me what they had assessed as the damage. "Diane's right arm has been broken, and I suspect at least a couple of ribs. Her jaw is dislocated and she has a very bad contusion to the left side of her head. These are minor compared to the bruising to her stomach. I would say she has been kicked quite a few times. She may have a damaged spleen. I know you are a copper so how would you describe the attack and it was an attack. If anyone tries that old excuse that she fell down stairs they are lying. If she fell down stairs she could never have got up them again."

"I would think that the charge would be aggravated bodily harm if not grievous bodily harm." I replied. Joan nodded. She was working to keep Diane comfortable, which meant that at times I had to release Diane's hand; immediately she was able Diane reached to grasp my hand again. Joan noticed this and smiled.

"You may find it difficult to work again if you have Diane clinging to you like this." I nodded. My mind had been working and I was going to call in the favours I had given over the last few months. My fellow Inspectors would have to cover my shifts. I was going to be there for Diane.

Diane would be sedated whilst they set her arm and relocated her jaw. The Trauma unit would monitor her until they could decide whether her spleen was damaged or not. The policewoman especially trained in taking samples from victims for DNA purpose arrived. The Doctors usually make a fuss about this procedure, even though it is crucial to such investigations, but with me there they decided not to argue. As Diane was not conscious, I walked to the station. It wasn't too long a walk and the fresh air cleared my mind. I went to see John. He didn't beat about the bush. He was up to speed with what had happened.

"Andy you are on leave with immediate effect. Bob has got Terry Bowden in custody and we have one team searching his home and another at the car lot. You are personally involved so see Bob by all means, don't hang around, go home or back to the hospital. Under no circumstances will you do anything else. I want this one to stick with the C.P.S. and no complications with a defence brief claiming that you were in a position to manipulate evidence or this was a fit up so you could get it on with Terry's wife. Clear?" That suited me perfectly.

"Yes John." I went to find Bob. He was in his office.

"Hi Andy, how's Diane?"

"Not good at the moment, but she's in the best place. What's happening?"

"Interesting to say the least. We are searching his home, but doubt that we will find anything there. Harry's searching his office at the lot, and has already found a bunch of registration documents which don't tie to any of the cars he has on his lot. Terry's screaming blue murder, threatening to sue the police to high heaven for infringing his personal liberty. His Solicitor is with him at the moment, explaining that once he was arrested the police have the right to search his premises without a Warrant."

"Will he make Police Bail?" I asked knowing the answer. Bob nodded

"Yes he will, but we will have a good selection of charges for him to answer. If it all goes right I can see him going down for three years or even more."

"Good." He looked up at me.

"Is that all you can say. He's kicked shit out of your lady."

"I know, I am seething inside, but if I go and kick the shit out of him he won't go down, will he?" Bob knew where I was coming from.

"Yeh. It's a bugger being a copper at times." 

CHAPTER SEVEN

I returned to the hospital after a quick shower and shave at my flat. Diane had been transferred to the Intensive Care unit. I spoke to the Nurse in charge who questioned me as to my business there. UK Hospitals once had a reputation for very poor security and after some female patients had been sexually molested by casual walk-ins, tightened up their procedures. I explained who I was and showed her my Warrant Card as proof of identity. She was still unsure, saying that only the next of kin was allowed to visit in ITU. 

"Her next of kin will not be allowed to visit." I told her. "It is he who is suspected of attacking her and has been taken into custody." That shocked her but she recovered quickly.

"Ok, so you are a policeman. Are you seeing her on police business or personal?"

"Personal. We have been friends for almost twenty years." Reluctantly she gave way.

"Oh well, I don't suppose there will be any harm in it. At least you are a Copper." Having thawed she told me that the bruises and trauma had been treated and should not be a problem. The Jaw was just dislocated not broken. They were checking her blood pressure frequently. Should the spleen be damaged, low blood pressure would be one of the signs. So far she said it was coming up normal. She told me I could see Diane for five minutes.

It is very difficult when you see the woman you love in pain. The acceptance of my love came as quite a shock to me. It wasn't a conscious thought, it just happened as walked towards her cubicle. It was quite different to the love I had for Shirley, making me reflect. Had I actually been in love with Shirley? Perhaps not, else I may have fought harder to keep her. Diane had been with me all my adult life, tucked away in a compartment in my mind, waiting to come out whenever the circumstances needed her. Now she needed me and in many ways that was better, to be needed rather than need.

Diane was laying so still, her jaw bandaged tightly to prevent movement, drips draped down from plastic sachets into her left arm. Her right arm was plastered and the perpetual bleep of the monitor was the only sound. The nurse had told me that she shouldn't try to speak. I sat beside her and took her left hand in mine. At my touch she opened her eyes. She couldn't speak yet her eyes smiled, happy to see me. I leaned over and just touched my lips to hers.

"I love you Diane." She tried to move her mouth, but her jaw was bound quite tightly. Instead her eyes told me that she was delighted to hear that and returned the love. She squeezed my hand. There was little I could do yet the idea of not being there was unacceptable. I talked to Diane, not about the case and the possible charges Terry would face. Even now my training and knowledge of Judges Rules prevented me from going there as eventually Diane may have to give evidence. In the UK a wife could not be compelled to give evidence against her husband, but I believed she would if that was the only charge we could make. I hoped that Bob would find evidence of other crimes, then he would make those charges and leave the assault charge on file. Instead I talked to Diane, reminding her of the great times we had when we part of that group of friends and all the silly things that we did. She could manage a little smile to her lips and squeezed my hand a lot, letting me know that she was happy with the reminiscences. I mentioned the ritual of leaving the Pub, piling into our respective cars and taking off to a starting point in the country nearby. From that point we would always take a different route and alternate turns left then right, making bets as to where we would end up after twenty miles. I shouldn't have reminded her as she as attempting not to laugh as I recalled the time the car I was in ran out of petrol and we had to walk. There were no Filling Stations open at that time of night and it was eight miles home. I got home at four o clock in the morning. It was that point that the nurse came in and told me not to excite Diane too much. I stayed until Diane became tired and left promising I would be back. Her eyes followed me as I left. The nurse caught me as I left.

"I have put you on her records as close friend in lieu of next of kin. It was obvious that Diane wanted you there. Inspector Anderson, you said you were a friend, but her reaction tells me you are more than that."

"Yes. I think we are." She smiled. 

"She is going to need you."

"I'll be there for her."

I phoned Bob the next morning to see what was happening. He was pleased.

"Got a result, Andy. Loads of forged Log Books, and Number Plates. He will have a lot of trouble explaining those. We are now following up on sales of cars. I am certain that we are going to find some dodgy ones. Unfortunately we had to let Bowden out on Bail on condition that he goes nowhere near his home which is a scene of crime. I have talked to John and if you go to see Diane today there will be a Plod there. I don't think that Terry will try to get at her, but you never know."

I went to see Diane, taking the chair beside her bed where I would remain as long as she was there. The policewoman relinquished her station in the room and made to leave. I stopped her.

"Julie. Have you had a break at all?"

"No sir." I nodded.

"Ok. Go and get yourself some breakfast. When are you being relieved?"

"It should have been when the relief came on." That would have been shortly after seven this morning. But it was now ten o' clock. Usual cock-up. No one from the early shift had been detailed to come to the hospital.

"After you have had something to eat; get back to the factory and sign off. I'll phone the duty Sergeant and get someone down here. Put in for overtime I'll sanction it. Will four hours cover you?"

"Yes Sir, and thank you, Inspector."

Diane fluctuated between sleep and conscious. Whenever she woke up the first thing she did was look for me, I was there. She smiled as much as her jaw would allow and then slipped away into sleep again. The nurse explained.

"She is in a lot of pain. We are giving her some pain relief which will make her drowsy. If she shows no signs of damage to her spleen then she ought to be discharged within the week, but she can't be discharged if there is no one to look after her."

"What sort of care will she need?"

"She will need bed-rest really."

"No toilet assistance or medication?"

"No. Possibly support to and from, help with bathing but nothing else. Medication should be just pain relief when she needs it." I nodded. If Diane would allow me, I will offer her the care she needed.

Forty eight hours later they took the strapping off Diane's jaw. When they relocated her jaw they strapped it to make sure it didn't dislocate again immediately. She was being careful as it still hurt a lot. I was there when they took the strapping away. The first thing Diane did was exercise her jaw gently then turned to me.

"Kiss me Pug." I bent down and kissed her gently. "You can do better than that." She complained.

"Yes I can." I retorted. "But what sort of a lover would I be if I hurt my lady when I kissed her?" She smiled as much as she could.

"When you kissed my lady all I felt was ecstasy. Are you my lover?"

"Yes. Until you get fed up with me." She shook her head.

"Oh no my darling Pug. I'll not get fed up with you. You are my lover and I am yours." She lifted her head slightly asking for another kiss. I happily gave her that kiss. The nurse entered the room and had a fit.

"Now, now, you two. This isn't the honeymoon suite at the Ritz. Mrs. Bowden! You must rest that jaw."

"I am." Diane replied sweetly. "The kisses are most relaxing." The nurse laughed.

"When my boyfriend kisses me I get anything but relaxed."

"Pug's kisses usually make me think of some very rude things, but he's being kind to me at the moment."

"Pug?" The nurse was astonished. Here we go, I thought. The name will come up again. Diane avoided the issue adroitly.

"Yes. You know like the Bulldog, with the emphasis on the Bull." The nurse left giggling.

Now that she was able to speak, Bob came in with a policewoman to take a statement. I of course was not present and when they left I explained to Diane that they would discharge her later that week, if she had someone to care for her.

"I thought you may let me do that."

"You will care for me?"

"Yes. For the rest of my life, if you'll let me?" Diane's eyes glistened with moisture.

"Yes my darling. And I shall care for you too. Do we get to sleep together?"

"Yes."

"Always?"

"Try and stop me."

"Only when I have come so much I couldn't possibly manage another."

John phoned me at home three days later, I had been dividing my time unequally between home and the hospital with the hospital getting the majority. This became a saving grace for me as their regulations required visitors to sign in and sign out. It was thus that I had an alibi for what happened. A telephone call started it.

"Andy, could you come in and see me."

"Yes. John. When?"

"Now, if you will."

"Ok. I'll be there in thirty minutes."

I was still officially on leave so I didn't dress in uniform. I knocked on John's door and with the invitation to enter went in.

"Andy thanks for getting here so quickly. We will go to one of the interview rooms and I will take a taped statement from you."

"What's this about, John." He shook his head.

"Let me take your statement first then you can ask your questions."

"Am I under caution?" 

"No." In the interview room he started the interview. One of our Detective Sergeants was there. Interviews are taped with two tapes recording simultaneously. One for the police and one for the witness.

"Interview with Police Inspector P. Anderson. Police Superintendent J. Atherton present." Then the Detective Sergeant identified himself.

"Also present is Detective Sergeant Gamling." They asked me to relate my movements last night. I had been sitting at Diane's bedside until almost one in the morning.

"Do you know exactly what time you left?"

"Not exactly, it was close to one a.m., but the visitors log will show the exact time I left." 

"Visitors log?"

"Yes. I don't know what it is like in the other wards, but in the Intensive Care Unit they log all visitors in and out. The doors are locked after normal visiting hours." John wanted to know if apart from the log anyone else could verify that I was there excluding Diane. There were quite a few of the nurses who I was certain could do that.

John concluded the interview and sat back.

"I know you want to know why I had to do that. Andy, there was an arson attack at Bowden's office last night. Unfortunately Bowden was in it at the time. Whether he was dead before or the fire killed him we don't know. The Pathologist is trying to get an interim report for us quickly. That could be interesting."

"You say arson. Are you certain?"

"The Fire Investigation officer was certain. He could smell the accelerant all over the place. Whoever did it was sloppy, it should have gutted the place."

"What time was this?"

"About eleven forty-five." John told me. Your statement has to be checked obviously, but I am certain the nurses will confirm your statement.

"Are you going to tell Diane?" I asked John.

"No. I thought it may come better from you."

"I am supposed to be on leave with no interest in the case."

"With Bowden dead, there is no case to compromise now, so let's say you are on compassionate leave for the moment."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Diane was much more herself when I arrived at her bedside later that morning. She wanted to talk about what happened.

"Pug. Terry wanted me to sleep with a man who he was trying to do business with. He was angry that I wouldn't. After that I knew I had to leave, the next morning I told Terry I was leaving him and that I wanted a divorce." I decided not to tell her that I was a witness to the previous evening's incident.

"What did he say?"

"He said no one leaves him unless he says so. The next thing I saw his fist coming at me, I turned my head but not quickly enough. It was a terrible blow to my head, I was down on the floor and then he was kicking me."

"Diane, He will never do that again." She smiled.

"I know, Pug. I'm with you now."

"No Diane you don't understand. Terry's dead. He was at his office last night and there was a fire. He didn't make it out." Diane was silently shaking her head.

"No, no. He can't be. I didn't want to stay with him, but I wouldn't wish that on him." She looked distraught. "Is it true? How did it happen?"

"It looks like arson. We don't think Terry did it, but he got caught up." She looked up.

"Does this make a difference to us?"

"No. We are us. I am sorry about Terry, but I was going to take his wife from him anyway. I love her."

"And she loves you. I am sorry about Terry. He was a fool, such a good salesman he could have sold sand to the Arabs, but he couldn't resist the lure of pulling off a dodgy deal, neither could he resist a short skirt."

"Talking of skirts. When you got out of my car at the 'Bird in Hand' my mind was much occupied with pictures of you."

"Oh a flash of stocking does it for you. What pictures did your mind see?"

"Oh you in stockings."

"And?"

"Just the stockings." She smiled.

"I'm pleased. I did it deliberately you know."

"I thought you did, Salome."

"But you did resist."

"Yeah. I was stupid." She put her mouth to my ear and whispered.

"I'll do it for you again, Stockings, high heels and nothing else. Don't resist." I had no doubt about that.

I was still interested in why she had hesitated about divorce.

"Terry had some papers that incriminated my Father in a Tax Fiddle. I don't know how he got them but said that Dad would go to prison for quite some time if the Revenue got to know about it. He also told me that he would ruin my face if ever I tried to leave. He would make sure that no one else would want me."

"So you knew when you told him you were leaving what was likely to happen?"

"I hoped that what he said was merely bravado. Obviously it wasn't." I was glad that Bowden was dead, else I would be doing time for doing to him what he did to Diane. The guy was a complete scumbag. I was humbled by her courage. Knowing what might happen she went ahead anyway.

Terry Bowden was dead before the fire was set. He had no traces of smoke in his lungs, which of course meant he wasn't breathing. The fire had done enough damage to him that determining the cause was problematical, but the Pathologist identified broken bone and cartilage in his neck sufficient to suggest that he had been strangled possibly manually but more likely with a ligature. The case against Terry Bowden was closed and another file opened to investigate his murder. Radic had disappeared from his usual haunts. Bob advanced the theory that our arresting Terry had alarmed Radic who had him killed so that even if he had told us anything about his operation he could not give evidence in Court. The fire was intended to destroy any evidence that could have been there. Whatever the reason all our information was handed over to the Detective Superintendent of the Murder team. I was now back in harness, catching up on paperwork at first then getting out and about with the constables on the beat. I took the opportunity to ask Bob off the record if there were any papers incriminating a Mr. Worrall in a Tax Fraud. He looked at me strangely. 

"No, Andy. Nothing like that. Do you know this Mr. Worrall?"

"He's Diane's father." Bob shook his head.

"We didn't come across anything like that. When was this supposed to happen?"