Ugly Duckling (13 page)

'Its work Jenni, I've got to go' He leant over to kiss Jenni; she grabbed him and pulled him on top of her, wrapping her long legs around him.

'No Jenni, I'm really sorry but I've got to go, this is my life'

'Well I don't like it' Jenni's voice had an edge of annoyance about it.

John prised himself from Jenni's grip, got out of bed and started to pull his clothes on, he didn't like being called out in the middle of the night either, but it was his job and his work had, and always will, come first. 'I'll call you later and we can pick up where we left off.'

'If you don't want me now, I might not want you later, if you go I might have to use my toy to satisfy myself' Jenni's voice was both annoyed and sulky like a child that had had its favourite toy taken away. John noticed her hand move between her legs and her finger penetrates as she spoke.

'Please don't sulk Jenni, I've got to go and that's all there is too it'

Jenni looked at John, her eyes narrowed 'Well then' she sneered 'I suppose you'd better get off to your precious work, I've no doubt that slag Liz will be there, if you ask nicely I'm sure she'll give you a blow job!'

'Don't be like that Jen, it can't be helped. I haven't got time to discuss it now, I really have to go but we'll talk later.'

'My names Jenni, and if you don't want me now you can just fuck off and go to your job. You’re no different to any other man, get what you want, turn over, fart, sleep and leave. Well Go on then Fuck Off! Go running to that bitch Liz.' she reached over and threw the alarm clock at Johns head, he dodged quickly to one side and it missed by a fraction. John looked at Jenni, trying to understand the tantrum but without uttering another word he turned and left, closing the bedroom door behind him.

'BASTARD!' he heard Jenni scream from behind the door as something else crashed into it. He looked around the living room at the table, still with the plates from last night’s meal on it and at the flowers, roses and carnations. He lifted Jenni's dress from the floor and recovered his shoes. Entering the kitchen he found a glass and poured himself some water, taking note of the foil containers left on the worktop, he finished his water and left. As he turned the key in the cars ignition he was thinking about Barnett, 'What the hell was P.C Barnett doing on east Overcliffe walk, he lived in Brighton.'

P.C Barnett had phoned in sick today he had the flu and needed some rest, but instead of that he'd travelled to Bournemouth to meet someone he needed urgently to speak too. He sat on a bench on east overcliffe walk until eventually a figure in a hooded top and tracksuit bottoms approached carrying a rose in one hand with the other in their pocket.

'Hello Dan, nice to see you again. I got this for you' the rose was handed to Dan

Barnett took the rose and sneezed. 'Hello Roger, thanks for the rose, sorry about sneezing, I've got the flu. I guess you know why I'm here'

'Not really, can’t live without me? Want me to tuck you up in bed with a hot lemon drink?'

'Don't try to be cute. It seems you've been up to your old tricks again, from what I understand it was your father and a married man with kids this time.'

Roger shrugged 'What makes you think it was me?'

'Who else?'

Roger smiled 'Are you still seeing your Inspector Dan? What was his name Wills?'

Barnett became uncomfortable at the question. 'Yes. We've been together a long time now; we've managed to keep it secret from everyone else in the force.'

'And I assume you want to keep it that way'

'I swear to God Roger, if you breathe a word it'll be your last!'

Roger grinned 'So what did you want to see me about Dan, quick one for old time’s sake?' Roger moved closer to Dan placing a hand on the front of his trousers. Dan quickly took a step back.

'I want you to give yourself up Roger, you can’t carry on like this sooner or later they will catch you.'

'Maybe, Maybe not.' Roger had the aura of someone who was very self assured, verging on cocky 'But you won’t help them Dan, unless you want me to confess everything I know about you and the great Inspector Wills as well.'

'Don't blackmail me Roger, its almost as ugly as you are.'

Roger felt hurt at the comment but decided to let it pass this once.

'I'm not blackmailing you Dan. I'm just asking you to stick to our agreement. You keep quiet about me and I keep quiet about you and Wills.'

'But you've bought it back to my station, I've had to lie to inspector Wills and I hate doing that, we love each other.'

'You still call him Inspector Wills, do you do that when you're fucking each other? How sweet. But your right, it wouldn't be accepted so you can’t tell anyone else about your love, that's sad, almost makes me want to cry.'

'Don't take the piss Roger its not very becoming, but if it got out it would ruin him.'

'So you want me to give myself up, confess all my sins, do you want me to include that I've had, on several wonderful occasions as I recall, Inspector Wills, gay super stud. And his trusty lover P.C Barnett in what could only be described as the most fantastic threesome in the history of Brighton?'

'You don't have to mention anything about me and Wills Roger; he doesn't even know what you've done. I just want you to stop and get help, you're out of control. I don't understand, why did you have to kill your father?'

Roger was very calm 'He turned up at my front door, still refusing after all these years to accept who I am, he wanted to walk and talk, he wouldn't even come into my lounge, scared I might do something or pass on some disease. So I grabbed the nearest knife I could and went for a walk with him, it was only self defence, the same as the others.'

'Self defence!' Dan looked to the sky 'Roger It’s never been self defence, no one ever threatened your life. You're just a bit sick you need help.'

Roger began to feel the rage build up inside him.

'Its you that's sick with your snotty flu. For your information they have all threatened my life! How could you say they didn't, and stop calling me that?'

'What Roger? Sick? But you are. Let someone help you.'

'I told you. Don't call me that!'

'Roger I'm Just trying'

Slash

'To help'

Slash

P.C Dan Barnett dropped lifeless to the ground.

'I warned you not to call me that, now lay still, close those eyes and let me see what you're made of.'

John arrived quickly to the scene, driving through the streets of Bournemouth at that time of night had been fairly easy, still a few late night revellers around but nothing to get in his way and the new car had surprisingly been a pleasure to drive. The scene had been closed off to the public and portable flood lights bought in to illuminate the area, in the centre a tent had been erected over the lifeless body laying on the ground, as John approached Ian came to him.

'Same as before J.D throat cut and disembowelled, but it’s Barnett, not in uniform but it’s definitely him.'

'Any sign of a weapon or witnesses?'

'Not yet, a young lad found him and called us, he's a bit the worst for wear, been out clubbing, we're taking his statement now but we'll have to talk to him again when he's sobered up a bit.'

They walked over to the tent covering Barnett’s body and John went in, inside Liz was crouching beside the body carrying out her preliminary examination and a photographer stood next to her snapping anything he thought might be of interest but also following Liz's requests. John looked at the victims face, and confirmed to himself that it was definitely P.C Barnett.

'Hi Liz, Got anything for me yet?'

'Not a lot I'm sorry to say, I would estimate time of death to be about 9 – 10pm last night, the rest is the same as before, throat cut either side of the trachea deep enough to sever the carotid's, disembowelled and intestines placed to one side of the body, laid out nicely with his arms at the sides and eyes closed. You'll notice his right hand'

John looked at Barnett lying in front of him, he was indeed lying straight with his arms by his side, but in his right hand was a red rose. 'That's new; the others didn't have a rose on them at time of death.'

'And I think we may have something here' Liz held up a single hair, it had been placed in an evidence bag ready for examination 'its not one of his, wrong colour and too long, but we do have the stem, so we should be able to get DNA from it'

John suddenly looked excited 'Excellent Liz! That's Excellent; perhaps we finally have a solid lead on this!'

'I wouldn't get too excited John, it might be a match for the knife from William, but that'll only prove it’s the same killer, we still won’t know who it is.' Liz spoke as she carried on with her examination 'Could I get a photo here?' she pointed to the pile of intestines lying on the floor and the photographer duly obliged.

John liked to watch Liz work in situations like these, there was something special about the way she conducted herself, quietly commanding respect, professional, understanding what it was to be doing this type of work. 'I Know Liz,' John Smiled as he rested one hand on Liz's shoulder, 'I also know that if there's anything else to find, you're the one to do it.'

Liz stopped what she was doing and looked up at John 'Thanks John, I'll do my very best.' once again she felt a buzz run through her body, she always did her best at her job but if she could score extra brownie points with John at the same time she was happy to take them.

John left the tent and rejoined Ian outside, it was a chilly night so they stood close to one of the lamps trying to get any heat they could from it,

'Sorry Sir, could you move away from the lamp? You’re blocking the light!' the shout came from one of the officers scouring the ground for evidence. John and Ian did as they were asked.

'Was anything taken from the body Ian?'

'Not as far as we can tell J.D. His ID, driving license, wallet, money, everything still there. We did, however, find a membership card to the Pink Trouser club'

'The what?' John asked,

'The Pink Trouser Club, it’s a members only Gay club in Brighton.'

'I'm not even going to ask how you know that, So you're saying he was gay?'

'It would seem so J.D'

John thought for a moment. Did the Brighton force know he was gay? In theory it shouldn't make any difference, but even in this day and age it would take a brave person to admit to his or her police colleagues that they were gay.

'Tell you what Ian, gay or not, at the end of the day he was a policeman, and he's already given us more information than the others, Liz found a hair on him and he was holding a rose, who knows what else he'll be able to tell us. Even a dead copper is still a copper.'

Liz appeared from the tent and crossed to where John and Ian were standing, 'I've done all I can here so I'm going to have him moved back to the lab. I'll be able to start a thorough examination as soon as he arrives and I'll get onto the hair DNA as soon as I can in the morning. In the meantime I'll leave it all in your capable hands John.'

Liz walked back to where she had parked her car watched by Ian and John

'Have you noticed how she keeps blushing when she talks to me lately Ian?'

'J.D, she stripped you naked and put you to bed, if I'd done that I'd blush every time I saw you too.'

Ian arrived at the station at 7:30am carrying the usual bag of breakfast sandwiches and coffee, he'd slept on the sofa that night not wanting to disturb his wife in the early hours of the morning, but even so he felt ok and ready for the day ahead, by comparison John had slept at the station, not wanting to go back to Jenni's and not bothered about going back to his own house, he had slept in his chair with his feet on the desk, which is where Ian found him.

'Morning J.D, Rise and shine!'

'Oh fucking hell, what do you want?' John only moved to turn slightly in his chair trying to get back to sleep.

'Come on, up you get, its time for work. I've got you a bacon sandwich and coffee.' Ian removed the top from the coffee cup and waved it under John’s nose which seemed to work as well as any smelling salts could have done, almost instantly John sat up in his chair and grabbed the coffee and took a large gulp.

'Did you only get me the one?'

'I can get more if you need it, have you been here all night?'

'Yes, I was at Jenni's before the call, but she seemed a bit pissed off because I had to leave, so I didn't really fancy going back there, anyway she would have been asleep and I didn't fancy going home, so here I am.'

'She got pissed off because you were called out to a murder? Didn't you tell her it’s your job?'

'Of course I did, but she didn't seem to understand, it must be difficult for some people. She just threw a tantrum, called me and Liz a few choice names and lobbed something at my head.'

'What's Liz got to do with it?'

'It doesn't matter, she was just angry.' Taking a bite from his sandwich his thoughts flashed back to the scene last night, Ian and Liz both there, working, not complaining, but getting on with their jobs, they knew if there was an incident they needed to attend, it was as simple as that. Would Jenni ever understand that?

'So where are we up to?' John was now almost fully awake and ready to get on with the investigation. 'I suppose we need to contact the Brighton boys, inform them and find out what we can, see if they know why Barnett came to Bournemouth immediately after we'd been there, did he know something, or someone, and was coming to tell us?'

'Would have been simpler to use the phone.' Ian seemed sceptical at John’s latest theory.

'True. But why else would he have come here if he didn't know something. And if he wasn't coming to see us, who was he coming to see? Are we to assume he knew the killer, perhaps even when the killings were in Brighton? Why wasn't he at work and where did that rose come from, I know it would have been given him by our killer, but where was it bought?' John had an expression of inquisitiveness cross his face, 'Can we trace roses?'

'Not to individual shops I don't think J.D unless it was a special breed or something'

'Well get someone on it, there can’t be that many florists in Bournemouth, surely they would remember a gay man buying a single red rose. While you’re talking to Brighton, ask, delicately, if they knew Barnett was gay.' Ian strolled to his desk and phoned inspector Wills at Brighton, it wasn't a task he looked forward too, remembering how Wills had taken a dislike to him while they were there, now he had to tell him that one of his boys was gay, perhaps being in Brighton it wouldn't be such a shock.

'What are you talking about Cripp; He was most definitely NOT gay. If anyone was gay I would have put my money on you, you fucking Moron.' Wills wasn't taking it as well as Ian had hoped. 'Its not bad enough he gets murdered on your patch, but now you're trying to drag his good name through the mud, Does your guv know you've phoned me with this? I bet he doesn’t does he? Its just you trying to run before you can walk. One piece of advice for you son, we don't smear the name of other officers, especially when they've been murdered on our patch. Now if you'll excuse me I've got other work to get on with!' he hung up.

'How did you get on?' John was stood behind Ian, laughing. 'I could hear him across the other side of the room, I told you to be delicate.'

'He really is something else isn't he? Next time you can do your own dirty work.' Ian sat back in his chair, arms folded in a gesture of defiance.

'Ok I will' John lied 'I need another coffee Ian but I'm really tied up here at the moment, would you mind?' Ian looked at John and shook his head, he was beginning to feel like Johns secretary 'But before you go for it, did Wills tell you anything else?'

Ian's tiredness and anger suddenly kicked in, he sat upright in his chair and slammed his hands onto his desk 'Yes J.D he fucking did! And I'm going to tell you what he said before I fuck off out of here, but I won’t be getting your coffee you can get it your fucking self J.D. I am not your fucking secretary, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night and although I felt fine half an hour ago, I don't now! I've been called a Moron by a homophobic idiot in Brighton and accused of phoning him without your instruction because you were too fucking idle to do it yourself, I had to wake you up at your desk this morning with coffee and fucking breakfast for you, and now you ask me to go and get more fucking coffee because one wasn't enough. Next you'll be asking me to sit on your knee and take short hand. I'm going for a walk!' with that Ian stormed out of the office. John knew where he would go, it wasn't the first time the two of them had argued and it was always the same place where they met afterwards, a lay-by that did the best cup of tea in Dorset, according to Ian. John gave him a 10 minute head start before following.