M. Arlidge - Little Boy Blue

Would he venture out tonight? Charlie looked at the clock. Her partner, Steve, had not been pleased when she’d called to say she wouldn’t be home. She usually relieved him for bath and bedtime with Jessica and, even though he knew her job was unpredictable, he still got grumpy when she didn’t show up.

She suddenly felt foolish to be stuck out here on her own, when she could be home in bed with her family. Police work was increasingly encroaching on her home life, but it was hard for it to play out any other way. She wanted to make a decent arrest, create a bit of a splash, if only to rid herself of the feeling that she was on probation. The odd look from Sanderson and a stupid sexist comment from a junior officer had been enough to make her feel as if she still had something to prove, despite her promotion.

Which is why she wasn’t going anywhere yet. Even though it was well past midnight, she would give it one more hour.

‘I knew it was time for a change. I mean, no one needs that abuse, do they?’

Sanderson was deep into her tale about a violent and neglectful boyfriend. Despite the fact that she had actually been single for nearly eighteen months, she was doing rather well, sprinkling her tale with lots of choice details.

‘So what did you do, flower?’ Dennis replied, his eyes still glued to her.

‘I cleaned him out and moved on. He’d saved up nearly ten grand for some souped-up Mazda and I took every penny of it.’

One of those present whistled, earning a smile from Sanderson.

‘You should have seen the texts he sent. Vile, they were. I replied a few times, then when I hit the M25 I threw my phone out the window.’

‘A new life,’ the PVC enthusiast said.

‘Exactly.’

‘And how long have you been doing this ?’ Dennis gestured at the dungeon they now sat in.

‘Most of my adult life.’

‘Why?’

‘What’s the point of walking in a straight line? Life’s more fun if you deviate.’

‘So what are you – top or bottom?’

‘Bottom. I like to be disciplined.’

‘Then you’ve come to the right place.’

Dennis rose now and crossed to the wall, running his finger over the heavy chains attached to the wall.

‘Why don’t I give you a little test drive, then? See how you like the Southampton touch…’

There were low chuckles from the group, as they turned their attention from Dennis to Sanderson. Was this what they’d come to see? Maybe Dennis hadn’t been joking about his ‘fresh meat’.

‘All in good time. I’d need to know you a little better first.’

‘What you see is what you get,’ Dennis said, opening his arms to her.

‘Uh uh,’ Sanderson said. ‘You’re still holding out on me, Dennis. You were about to give me a cautionary tale before.’

‘That’s one way of putting it,’ the satyr chuckled.

‘You had someone in mind when you were talking,’ Sanderson said, ignoring the joke. ‘Someone I should steer clear of.’

‘Why are you so interested in her anyway?’

‘Because she obviously got to you.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Why won’t you talk about her? Are you scared of her?’

‘Of course not,’ Dennis responded sharply, but Sanderson didn’t believe him.

‘Well then?’

Dennis hesitated. Was he intimidated by this mystery person? Or was it just not the done thing to name names?

‘Her name is Samantha. She’s a mid-op she-male.’

‘What did she do to you?’ Sanderson enquired, banking the name.

‘Half killed me is what she did,’ Dennis replied tersely.

Sanderson nodded sympathetically, but said nothing. Dennis was going to elaborate – he just needed a moment to collect himself.

‘She put me in hog ties and a deprivation hood. You shouldn’t wear those things for more than an hour unless you want to go gaga, but she left me in it for five. I was panicking, couldn’t breathe, but she just seemed to enjoy it. She abused me, told me I deserved it, she even laughed at one point.’

Dennis’s voice shook as he said it. He was no longer the cheeky figure of fun he purported to be. It was clear that he had genuinely thought he was going to die during the experience.

‘Is she likely to have gone to the Annual Ball?’ Sanderson asked.

‘Never missed it.’

‘And where do you normally find her? Where does she live?’

‘Well, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?’

‘Do you know?’

‘Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. But I think I’ve said more than enough already. I’ve got no love for Samantha, believe me, but I’ve got even less love for the police. So I think it’s time you were going.’

As he said it, fourteen pairs of eyes swivelled towards her. Sanderson opened her mouth to respond, but Dennis quickly went on:

‘You’re going to have to work on your act a little, Rose . The look of terror in your eyes when I suggested a bit of slap and tickle was a dead giveaway. Missionary all the way with you, is it?’

Now he was looking at her with open hostility. The atmosphere had suddenly turned and Sanderson wanted to be out of this basement as quickly as possible. She had overplayed her hand, pushed too hard. There was nothing to do now but retreat, so Sanderson stood up and scurried towards the exit, watched all the way by thirty accusing eyes.

‘I won’t be able to come here again.’

Angelique looked up, pausing momentarily.

‘Something wrong?’

‘It’s just work,’ Helen replied. ‘I’m going to be abroad a lot, so…’

Helen wasn’t a liar by nature and it showed. Fortunately this was not an environment in which awkward questions were likely to be raised.

‘Let’s make it a good one, then,’ Angelique replied. ‘Something to remember me by?’

The slender dominatrix moved forward, taking Helen’s wrist in her hand.

‘No restraints tonight,’ Helen said firmly.

Angelique paused. The look on her face suggested to Helen that there was much that could be said. Angelique was well-known on the S &M scene and had presumably heard about Jake’s murder. Had she known Helen a little better she might have raised it – it had clearly rattled people – but they barely knew each other, so whatever it was it would remain unsaid. Helen had visited Angelique on a handful of occasions in the last three months. She had tried to wean herself off her habit, but when the need became too great, she had sought paid companionship. This time she had sought out female company, hoping it would remove any sexual attraction from the equation – this had been her undoing on more than one occasion before.

Overall it had worked pretty well and Helen was glad to be able to use her services when the need arose. But she knew this would be her last visit. She would have to absent herself from this world during the investigation. It was hard to know what would fill the void – she was already running three times a week and smoking far more than she should – and Helen wondered what other compulsions might rear up in Angelique’s absence. As she’d biked home from Lynn’s house, she’d tried to persuade herself not to come. But her head was full of darkness tonight and the news that Sanderson’s cover had been blown so quickly had pushed her over the edge.

Nodding to Angelique, she relaxed her body and waited for the first blow. Today had been awful in so many ways and she couldn’t rid herself of the unpleasant images swirling round her mind. The look of disgust on Mike Elder’s face, his son’s cold corpse on the stainless steel slab, and – shot through with these – images of her own past. Mike Elder’s sneering face seemed to alternate with her father’s, while the submissive Moira seemed to walk hand in hand with visions of her own mother, turning the other cheek as her brutish husband beat, tortured and raped his own flesh and blood. Helen had never been a parent – and she knew in her heart that she never would be – but still she felt a fierce, primal anger at those who visited such terrible cruelty on those closest to them. The events of today had taken her straight back to when she was a little girl, remembering the intense fear, impotence and terror that only a child can feel. It filled her with terrible rage, but also terrible sadness. This had been her birth rite, just as it had been Jake’s.