R. Wingfield - Winter Frost

He didn't hear the door open. 'Working your fingers to the bone as usual, Frost?' sneered a sarcastic

Mullett.

Frost opened his eyes and dragged his feet from the desk. Flaming Hornrim Harry had a genius for turning up at the wrong moment. 'You want me, Super?' he grunted.

'I've been expecting you to report back to me with the identity of the skeleton.'

'Oh, sorry, about that,' yawned Frost. 'We had no joy. Couldn't trace him.'

'Rubbish,' snapped Mullett. 'No-one goes missing without it being reported. I want a name and I want it tonight!' He spun on his heel and stamped out.

'I'll give you a name!' spat Frost to the closed door. 'Four-eyed bastard!' He froze as the door opened almost immediately. To his relief it wasn't an angry Mullett coming back, it was Liz Maud.

'Tonight's operation, Inspector. You want women as decoys?'

'That's right,' nodded Frost.

'Put my name down.'

Frost hesitated. He already had enough volunteers, but knew the poor cow was itching for a chance to prove herself before going back to her old rank.

'All right Liz, you're on. Tart yourself up and we'll see you in the incident room at midnight.'

The incident room was filled with a fog of eye-stinging cigarette smoke. Frost, on his usual perch at the corner of the desk, was on his second packet of the day. As he smoked, his brain churned over and over again his strategy for the night's operations, testing the seams, looking for the flaws that always seemed to be lurking in anything he was involved in.

A chorus of wolf whistles dragged him from his thoughts… WPC Polly Fletcher in a short tight skirt and an even tighter sweater swaggered into the room. She wiggled and gave Frost a suggestive wink. He winked back at her, his nose twitching at the pungent perfume she had doused herself with. 'Where did you get the scent? It smells like the stuff they use to deodorize cats' litter trays.' She grinned. Inwardly he was a ferment of doubts. God, what if it all goes wrong and we end up finding Polly's mutilated body dumped in a ditch somewhere? Too many people were relying on him, and reliability was not one of his assets.

He was snatched out of his introspective gloom when Liz Maud, a long blond wig concealing her dark hair, made her entrance and the wolf whistles soared. Heavily made up, she had squeezed into figure-hugging red trousers and a clinging black sweater, over which she had draped an artificial leopard skin coat. Swinging a long strapped handbag from side to side, she sauntered over to Frost. 'How do I look?' 'I'm selling my Viagra,' said Frost. 'I don't need it any more.'

'Only two girls?' asked Hanlon.

Frost nodded. 'We keep this tight and simple. We don't want to flood the area with maverick toms, it might get Chummy suspicious. And thanks to Mullett, we've only got two cars per girl which is the absolute minimum if we're going to play it safe.'

At that moment Mullett strode in. Everyone, except Frost, sprang respectfully to their feet. 'Come to inspect the troops, Super?' Frost indicated the two girls. 'You're the expert, what do you reckon?'

Mullett squeezed a sour smile. 'They look very… er, nice,' he said weakly. He turned to the assembly. 'A few words. This is an important and expensive operation. I've had to go on my knees to County to get the expenditure authorized and my head will be on the chopping block if we fail. So let's have a successful, cost-effective and speedy outcome.' To a thin ripple of applause and what sounded suspiciously like a slow hand clap from Frost, he gave a brief nod and marched out.

Frost slid off the desk. 'The fact that Mr Mullett's head is on the chopping block must make it very tempting for you all to want to sod things up, but we've got to deny ourselves that pleasure. There's an even more sadistic bastard out there, torturing and raping, and it's up to us to stop his larks once and for all.' He turned to the large street map of Denton Pinned on the wall behind him. 'This is how we're going to play it. If anyone spots any weaknesses in my foolproof plan, for Gawd's sake shout; sometimes my infallibility goes pear-shaped.' He pointed to six coloured pins. 'There are six public phone boxes in the red light areas and we're going to use them all in turn. We don't want Chummy getting suspicious because all calls come from the same two phones. We've got two pseudo toms.' He nodded to Liz and Polly. 'And four cars, which is all that the cheeseparing budget generously donated by our Divisional Commander runs to. Liz and Polly, you've each got a list of cab firms to phone and destinations to be taken to. When we are all in position, and not before, you each phone the first firm on your list and ask to be taken to the first destination on your list. When the cab turns up, surveillance car number one will follow you every inch of the way. At your destination, you will get out and wait until the cab drives off, then the tailing car will pick you up and take you back to the next phone box, and so on. We've got two cars on stand-by in case anything goes wrong. From time to time we'll swap cars so it won't always be the same one tailing you. But these spare cars have another important function. If, at any time, the tailing car sees that your cab is deviating from where we know you asked to be taken, the other cars will be called in to augment the tail. All clear up to now?'

Nods and murmurs of assent.

'Good. Now, we've got one prime suspect.' He waited while photographs were circulated. 'That's Tom Jackson. Liz arrested him once, so she won't be calling his cab firm. That pleasure goes to you, Polly-If Jackson answers a call, I want both cars to follow, and I want you to be on your guard, Polly. I don't think he's our man, but I've been wrong before, so we don't take any chances.' He jabbed a finger at Detective Sergeant Hanlon who had raised his hand. 'Yes, Arthur?'

'The two cars you've got in reserve, Jack. Wouldn't it be safer if they both tailed the cabs all the time, then if anything happened to one, the other could immediately take over?'

'It would be safer, Arthur, but it might blow the whole operation. At two in the morning there's hardly any traffic on the road. A cab with two cars following its every move could stick out like an eager dick. If our bloke has the slightest suspicion there's something funny going on, he won't play ball.' He turned to Liz Maud who now had her hand up. 'Yes, Liz?'

'When we get in the minicab, do we sit in the back or next to the driver?'

'That's a good point,' said Frost. 'I hadn't thought of that.' He looked around. 'Anyone got any views on this?'

'It's safer if they sit in the back,' said Burton firmly.

'Yes,' agreed Frost, 'but we're not going for safety. We want the bastard to make his move.' He shook the last cigarette from the pack and stuck it in his mouth. 'Unless it's obvious he's expecting you to sit in the back, then take the seat next to the driver. Now, it's important you don't show your hand too soon. If he squeezes your titties, or ventures above the stocking top, don't flash your warrant card. Do what any self-respecting girl would do, knee him in the goolies and get out without paying. The odds are it won't be our bloke; titty-squeezing is small beer when you lust for stubbing fags out on a soft white belly.'

Polly's hand shot up. 'You say don't jump the gun, Inspector. At what point should we let him know we're policewomen?'

Frost expelled smoke. 'At no point, Polly. He shouldn't know you're a cop until we make the arrest. We need hard evidence. He takes these girls somewhere, ties them up, tortures and rapes them. Unless we know where he takes them, we've got nothing. Ideally, we want to follow you right up to the point where he drags you into his hideaway. And then, providing Mr Mullett doesn't decide we can't do any more overtime and calls us all back, we burst in and rescue you.'