After completing what
had to be completed at HQ, Gary disentangled himself, told Nigel to hold the fort
and not stand any nonsense from the arrestees, and drove home to a late lunch.
He could access reports from there and wanted to get to Dorothy’s cottage to be
close to Gibbons’ place. But first he wanted to talk things through with Cleo.
Roger had come to
lunch after his Tuesday round of golf, and was of the same opinion.
“You’re a
superintendent now, Gary. You have people working for you. Let them work,” he
advised.
“I am, if that
includes letting a good colleague go into the lion’s den.”
“Mia can take care of
herself,” said Cleo. “Let’s enjoy the afternoon. The little kids are fine, Amy
is coping brilliantly, Charlie has taken PeggySue next door to play with the
new baby and we are, give and take a problem or two, happy bunnies.”
“It’s too late for a
siesta,” said Gary, “I’ll have to be at Dorothy’s before Mia arrives.”
“You’re right,
Sweetheart,” said Cleo. “I’m surprised you mentioned a siesta at all.”
“This happy bunny is
tired,” he said.
“No comment,” said
Cleo. “Tell us about your other conquests.”
“Mostly waiting for
data. Ned and Macintosh the Scottish hack are delving into Campton’s affairs. I
can’t hurry them. We don’t know how involved he is and if he has dragged his
wife into the intrigue. Greg is on to Ronnie Fish’s killing, I hope, if he can
tear himself away from Ellie for long enough, and I will get Amy’s mother for
unlawfully organizing an abortion from her daughter and drugging her to make
sure it happened – yes and get the name of that midwife.”
“Her action was from
her point of view, given that the kid’s father is Amy’s own father,
understandable but nevertheless appalling” said Grit, taking a short break from
pushing Tommy and Teddy on their swings in the back garden. “She propbably
thought sheknew better than the girl.”
“We can’t condone
illegal abortions, Mother. You know that. ”
“My ex didn’t organize
an abortion. He just kicked me in the stomach until I lost the baby, and
shouted ‘hooker’ at me while he was kicking,” said Cleo. “That’s what comes of
marrying a thug because your mother liked him.”
“Leave Gloria out of
this please,” said Gary. “She’s tearing Romano apart now, but at least she’s
leaving you alone.”
“Now she is, but at
the time she interfered massively.”
“I lost a first-born,
too,” said Grit tearfully, remembering the drama of 40 years ago. “A corrupt
midwife was involved in that, too.”
“But you got him back,
Grit. My little one is gone for ever. He didn’t even get born.”
Roger exchanged looks
with Gary. His past had never been the subject of curiosity and he wanted it to
stay that way.
“Do you still need
me?” he said. “You’re tearing me apart with all that tragedy.”
He waited for someone
to ask him about his tragedies, but no one did though he was now strong enough
to talk about them.
“Will you accompany me
to the Gibbons house, Roger?” said Gary, thoroughly disapproving of the
direction in which the conversation was going. “We’ll watch Mia’s video at
Dorothy’s and step in when the time is ripe.”
“Sorry I mentioned my
kid. I’m a bit emotional today,” said Cleo, getting up to clear the coffee
things away.
“I hope that doesn’t
mean …”said Gary looking stricken.
“Hope?”
“Well, expect…”
“Hope’s better,
Sweetheart.”
***
By 4.15 Roger and Gary
were drinking tea and eating bara brith in Dorothy’s kitchen. Gary had
connected his blue-tooth facility and confirmed that he was ready for the
‘treatment’. At exactly 4:30 she rang the bell on Gibbons’ house-wall and
waited. She was dressed to suit her mission. Out of character for Mia, but
entirely directed at Gibbons, who was clearly pleased to see her.
“Come in,” he said in
a neutral voice. “You can leave your jacket on a hook over there,” he added,
pointing at a row of unused hooks and then leading the way into his treatment
room.
“Let’s start the way
we mean to go on,” he said. “You take the couch. Take your shoes off and get
comfortable.”
Mia writhed sexily.
Gibbon was clearly fascinated. Mia wondered if he was gullible or just plain
perverse.
“Now tell me why you
came. You aren’t really suicidal, are you?”
His eyes wandered up
and down Mia’s prostrate form.
“No, but I need help.”
“What kind of help?”
“I can’t say it,” said
Mia, apparently wriggling herself comfortable.
“I can’t help you if
you don’t,” Gibbons said in a persuasive tone of voice.
Mia acted embarrassed
before confiding (as he thought) in the fake therapist.
“It’s my libido,
Doctor.”
“Your what?” said
Gibbons.
“My sex drive,” Mia
muttered. “I read about it and I have all the symptoms.”
Gibbons seemed to be
appraising the situation and Mia wondered if she had gone too far too soon.
But Gibbons smiled.
“We can do something
about that, Miss Cardew,” he said. Mia made sure he was looking straight into
her camera brooch.
“You can’t,” Mia
moaned. “He’s left me.”
Gibbons drew his chair
nearer.
“Now why would he
leave such a beautiful woman?”
“He said I didn’t turn
him on,” said Mia.
“There are others,
Miss Cardew,” he said. “They are sure to be turned on by such a sensuous person.”
“He’s piling it on,”
said Roger. “A revolting character.”
“I don’t know anyone
else,” said Mia.
Gibbons slipped on his
knees from his chair to the edge of the couch. His smile did not include his
eyes, which seemed to be getting smaller ans his breathing became more audible.
He’s done that before, mused Mia. This was a weird assignment.
“We can solve your
little problem together,” he said, stroking Mia’s leg as if by accident. “If I
could just get a little nearer.”
“How near,” said Mia,
hoping that Gary was watching this performance. Gibbons was loosening his clothing
and quite obviously getting ready to solve the problem his way.
Mia waited for him to
shed his lower clothing and pull at hers before grasping his right arm in an
iron grip and simply tossing him aside. He now lay half naked his buttocks
exposed to the elements.
“What the hell…” he hissed
into the Axminster carpet Jane Barker, the previous resident, had once chosen
and was proud of.
“Yes. What the hell?”
repeated Mia. “Is that what you do to all your female patients? Or do males get
the same treatment?”
Mia turned Gibbons
deftly onto his stomach with a foot, raised him into a sitting position and tied
his hands behind his back with her hairband. She then pushed him back into a
lying position on his stomach.
“You can stay like
that,” she said. “I don’t want to look at your sex organ.”
“Penis,” he corrected,
struggling to free himself.
“On the other hand, if
the handcuffs are at the front you can hide your sex organ from unwanted looks.”
With that she deftly
unlocked and removed the handcuffs. Mia was not strong, but Gibbons was a weak
specimen of manhood. Mia had no trouble keeping him under control for the short
time it took for Gary and Roger to arrive.
“You are an
embarrassment; an exhibitionist and a rapist, and I arrest you for molesting me.”
“You can’t prove it,
you little whore. And you are not in a position to arrest me.”
“See this brooch?” Mia
said “It’s recorded everything and it’s still streaming to my colleague next
door.”
“Bitch!”
Gary and Roger had
followed Mia’s performance and moved quickly. In the couple of minutes it took
them to get to the Gibbons’ house, Mia had upended Gibbons and dragged him onto
the couch, where he sat clutching his genitals and glowering. There was no
escape.
Mia responded to the
furious door-bell ringing and the two cops entered the treatment room and
viewed the prisoner, not without some amusement at his in flagranti state.
“Thanks for the movie,”
Gary said. “It’s not often we get to see a rapist at work.”
“This guy exposed
himself and was about to expose me, weren’t you Darling?”
“Dress yourself, for
heaven’s sake,” said Gary to Gibbons, who then was allowed to stand up. Mia
unlocked the handcuffs and Gibbons was able to and pull his trousers up and
arrange his other clothing. Following that, Gibbons was handcuffed again.
“Need the toilet
before we take you to HQ, Gibbons?” Gary asked.
“Bugger off,” said
Gibbons.
“Is that part of the
treatment too?” said Gary. “You’d better watch your language, Gibbons.”
“I’ll shit when and
where I want to,” he hissed.
“You damn well won’t,”
said Roger.
Mia phoned for the
security van.
“We’ll transport him
standing up,” she said. “I’d hate a patrol car upholstery to be soiled.”
Gary and Roger could
not help being amused at the situation. That proposal was a novelty.
Gary had left the
front door open. Dorothy arrived together with the security van that had boxed
its way through with its siren howling. Dorothy had been too curious to stay in
her cottage. She explained briefly to the driver what he was to collect
thinking there must be a good reason to call security rather than a patrol car.
“He’s cornered,
Dorothy,” said Gary to Dorothy, “You’ll have no more trouble from him.”
“Why security?” she
said.
“He threatened to
vacate on the patrol car seat,” said Gary.
“You filthy little
squirt,” said Dorothy, going right up to Gibbons. “And you smell. Have you
already vacated?”
Roger reflected hat HQ
could have done with a few Dorothys to deal with the gangsters he had experienced
during his time there. Doirothy sniffed and said she was glad Gibbos had been
apprehended. What a revolting specimen he was.
The security van took
Gibbons, standing and accompanied by Gary, to HQ.
There was a moment’s
silence while Roger, Mia and Dorothy reflected on the drama.
“You look shaken,”
said Dorothy to Mia.
“I’ll be OK, but the
man was revolting. I was afraid I’d taken on too much.”
“Your guardian angels
were next door,” Dorothy assured her. Just think of the girls who must have
gone trhough such an ordeal.”
“We’ll all go to the
cottage,” said Roger. Grit and Cleo are waiting anxiously for news.”
“That’s a good idea, Roger,”
said Mia. Shall we go in my car?”
“I’ll just pick up
Gary’s laptop, then we can show Cleo what Gibbons got up to.”
“I must admit that I’m shocked at how fast the
bastard moved in,” said Mia.
“I’m sure Gary would
want to join me in thanking you for your help,” said Roger.
“I’m just glad it was me rather than some
other poor girl,” said Mia.
***
“Dramas never cease,”
was Cleo’s reaction to Gibbons’ antics at the so-called consultation. “The guy
is really disgusting.”
“Letting him really
move in was the only way of getting at him,” said Mia. “I think my performance
made him move faster than he would have normally. I gave him to understand that
I wanted sex and he was going to give it me!”
“I agree, Mia. You
were worthy of an Osca!” said Cleo.
“I don’t suppose Amy
was the only other victim,” said Dorothy.
“He certainly had a
routine,” said Mia. “But how anyone could confuse it with therapy is a mystery
to me.”
“I hate to say this,
but some females don’t know what they are letting thenselves in for,” said Gary,
arriving just in time to hear Mia’s words. He had deposited Gibbons at HQ and
got a lift home because the security van had been ordered to collect defunct
bank-notes a.s.a.p., so Gary had even had an armed guard as travel companion.”
“Thanks for helping
out, Mia,” Gary now said, hugging all the ladies present before hugging all his
children, one by one, taking time for each of them while the ladies and Roger
looked on approvingly.
“That’s a load off my
mind,” he finally got round to saying and Dorothy applauded. “The recording
mystery is solved to the satisfaction of all except your nasty neighbour,
Dorothy.”
“I’m surprised he got
through the net until now,” said Mia. “He must have a pocketful of card-tricks
apart from pure sedition.”
“But first we need to
connect him with Ronnie Fish’s establishment,” said Gary. “Not that it will
prevent him from getting a lengthy jail sentence for rape and attempted rape on
goodness knows how many victims.”
“Including me,” said
Mia. “I wasn’t expecting him to strip off there and then and there’s footage to
show him pulling my clothes down. For a moment I was really unnerved.”
“If he supplied Fish’s
organization with girls, surely they would be in a list somewhere. Even fake
doctors keep appointments in an agenda of some sort,” said Dorothy.
“Chris and the forensics
will search the Gibbons house, but there’s no one around to go in and remove
anything. Gibbons lived alone,” said Gary. “as far as we know, that is.”
“I’m not sure there is
no one,” said Dorothy. “He might not have got the house legally. I would not be
waiting a single day before getting that house searched thoroughly. Who knows
what Gibbons paid a friend or relation to deal with if he couldn’t himself.
He’s clever, Gary,” said Dorothy.
“Sure. Anyone who gets
clients to record their problems as movies on DVDs is out for more than just
hearing about their misery,” said Cleo. “He could use those recordings to sift
out women he thought would be suitable for the Fish project.”
“I expect there will
be women willing to come forward if we follow up some of those names in his
appointment book,” said Mia. “I think a doctor without an assistant is sure to
keep a record of his ‘patients’ with appropriate comments.”
“You’re all right, Ladies,”
said Gary. “You’ve made your point and now I will take action.”
Fortunately, Chris was
still in his lab and expressed a desire to get the house search over
immediately. What was Gary looking for in particular?
Mia went home to the
shelter where she was still living with her little son in fear of the violence
of her partner, who was now suspended from the police force, but still out to
get his wife. She promisted to return
for supper, bringing her son boy with her to eat and play..
***
While Dorothy was
helping Amy and Cleo to get the kiddies fed since Grit had begged time off from
child-minding to go late shopping with Roger. A phone-call from Chris, who had started
sifting through Gibbons’ possessions and asked Colin Peck see what h could find about him in the
archives, confirmed Dorothy’s hunch about Gibbons keeping a record of his
activities. Chris would deliver the appointment book on his way back to
Middlethumpton.
Since it was now suppertime,
Chris was persuaded to eat with the family. He had also collected a large cache
of drugs, mainly ecstasy and sleeping pills. It didn’t take much imagination to
know what they were for. The case against Gibbons was cast-iron, Gary thought,
***
“Of course, guys like
Gibbons could not carry on their evil trades if they were not appealing to
something in the female soul,” said Cleo. “Why else don’t those women shout for
help?”
“It’s possible that
they did not know what was happening to them, isn’t it?” said Dorothy. “Some
quite ordinary young women are prepared to put up with anything they think is
going to be good for their futures.”
The discussion was turning
into small talk, but that was OK, thought Gary, if it took Mia’s mind of her
unpleasant experience with Gibbons.
“In the old days, even
before my time, of course, 14 was thought to be good marriageable age for
girls, especially if they had dowries,” said Dorothy. “They were not consulted.
They did what they were told.”
“Not all children
played with vanity dolls,” said Gary. “I was not influenced by Ken.”
“Who’s Ken?” Dorothy
wanted to know.
“Have we moved the
discussion to talking about toys?” said Cleo.
“Ken is Barbie’s
lover, Dorothy,” said Gary.
“Friend,” corrected
Cleo.
“Whatever,” said
Dorothy. “I had a doll with a padded body and removable head. The head was
black so that I would learn to love everyone in the days when apartheid raged.”
“And do you?” said
Gary.
“Not everyone.”
“There you are then,”
said Gary. “That’s proof that there are exceptions.”
“Some women love their
dolls and murder their babies,” said Dorothy.
“They’re exceptions,
too,” said Gary.
“This conversation is
definitely getting out of hand,” said Cleo.
“Well, let’s move back
to Gibbons then,” said Dorothy, rather put out by Cleo’s remark.
Dorothy tended to
retaliate if provoked.
“Some young women will
have thought they were going to get treatment for something from a shrink, as you
Americans call them. I take two aspirin rather than talk about my troubles to
strangers.”
“I’m a Brit now,
Dorothy,” Cleo retorted. “Some people make it a lifetime job finding out what
makes them tick. You’d be surprised how many people enjoy talking about
themselves to a neutral person.”
“What troubles are you
referring to, Dorothy?” said Gary, who noted that Cleo and Dorothy were getting
rather irritated with one another.
“For instance, living
next door to a crook. I knew he was not straight because he was coming and
going surreptitiously.”
“But you didn’t report
that, did you?” said Gary. “I don’t suppose aspirin would cure suspicious or –
what do you call them? - surreptitious neighbours.”
“People do
surreptitious things all the time, Gary. You’d have no time to solve murders if
everyone reported strange goings-on next door.”
***
Chris had been
listening quietly and with considerable amusement to the chitchat while turning
the pages of Gibbons’ appointment book.
“Pardon the pun, but
Gibbons is only into women,” he announced, and the trio of natterers were surprised
that Chris had interrupted. “I only recognize one name,” he continued. ”I
assume that Gibbons analysed his clients and only forwarded the interesting
ones. He may not even have kept a record of all the women. You’ll have to get the
guy talking.”
“You make it sound
very distasteful,” said Dorothy. “Who is the person you recognize? Do we know
her?”
“It’s Daphne with a
question-mark before and after. No surname, but isn’t that the woman at the
Gazette?” said Chris. “There are other first names with those question-marks.
Maybe that was his way of marking them as candidates.”
“Is the Gazette
mentioned?” Gary asked.
“No.”
“So you are just
assuming it was the Daphne we know,” said Gary. “Why would ‘our’ Daphne need
therapy?”
“It might not be ‘our’
Daphne,” said Cleo. ”And if it is, she might not have been there for therapy.”
“I’ll eat my hat if it
isn’t ‘our’ Daphne.” said Gary.
“Don’t go to those
lengths. Just ask her!” said Dorothy. “She might not have known that she was being
targeted for Fish’s horizontal enterprise and you’ll have to find out how she
got onto Gibbons in the first place.”
“It makes you wonder how
much Jet Black knew about the system,” said Gary. “Or was he just a naïve chump
playing the game without knowing what the syndicate was up to? Touring with a
pop band would be an ideal cover for freelance contact-care with groupies,
meaning those silly girls who trail after such bands. He would have plenty of
free time to cultivate any girl he fancied or wanted to pass on.”
“You could look up
some of those other names, too,” said Chris.
“Or you could,” said
Gary.
“If you promise me
that there won’t be any corpses for a day or two, I will. The morgue is full.”
“I don’t go out
looking for them, Chris.”
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