Clive Bedford - Mistress of torment

"Maybe the lab will be able to give us a lead of some kind," said Wilson. "Whoever made and fitted that belt must have had some kind of workshop!"

"What about the boy's belt?" asked the Sergeant.

"There's some polyphotos in my case. We'll get the regular ones in about an hour, but these will give you the general idea."

The boy had been wearing jeans and a roll-neck sweater, which before he died would have concealed the high collar of silver-grey metal that was fitted around his neck. It was just fitted close to his skin, not tight enough to restrict his breathing, not loose enough to move. Pushing a finger down between the collar and the skin, the doctor had determined that the inside of the collar was fitted with hundreds of small, blunt spikes that must have pressed painfully into the flesh. At back and front of the body was an extension from the collar, about three inches wide, joining to a tight waist band similar to the one the girl had worn. There was a kind of box in front of the belt, shaped so as to allow no expansion of an inert penis. When the belt had been fitted, the boy had obviously not had an erection – and he had certainly not had one since he had worn the belt! The scrotum was in a separate enclosure, equally small. At the end of the penis-sheath was a hole, not more than an eighth-inch in diameter, and investigation had shown there was a kind of catheter tube attached to it, presumably running along inside the penis. At the rectum there was a one-inch hole and tube, similar to the one on the girl's belt.

The boy had fallen in front of an underground train at Piccadilly Circus Station and had been almost cut in half. The wheels of the first two coaches had passed right over him, and over the chastity belt. But the material of which it was made had not even been marked!

"What are you going to do, Inspector?"

Wilson closed the file and rested his hand on it. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Gerry," he said. "I'm going to pass this one upward, as far and as fast as I can! I'm not a very bright copper. You know that!" He smiled. So close to retirement he could afford to; he no longer had any apples to polish! "But all my instincts tell me that this one is trouble, with a capital T. And I don't want any part of it!" He got up. "I'm going to see the chief inspector," he said. "The intern told me he was going to ask one of his maintenance engineers to try to cut through that belt on the boy with oxy-gas before he locked the cabinet in the morgue. If you get a call from him, say I'll ring him back."

It was Sergeant Glasner's turn to be gloomy. He had just seen an example of the kind of petty-mindedness that made him feel he was in the wrong job. This was a challenge, not something to be passed up the line to where the buck stopped. But there was nothing he could do. He was caught in the rigid discipline machine.

Ten minutes later the phone rang and, as Gerry answered it his face changed from boredom to incredulous horror. "OK," he said, quickly. "I've got all that. I'll tell Inspector Wilson. Yes… I expect we'll be right over." He put the phone down and was just reaching for another one to call Wilson, when it buzzed. A girl's voice spoke.

"Sergeant Glasner? The chief inspector would like to see you in his office right away please." Gerry threw down the phone and ran!

He entered the chief inspector's office soberly enough, although his eyes were bright with excitement.

"May I give Inspector Wilson a message first, Sir?" he asked, and as the great man nodded, Glasner said, "Just had a phone call from Emergency Services, Sir. There's been a hell of an explosion at the hospital, in the morgue. A young intern is dead, the attendant, two nurses and an engineer!"

The other two men sat, suddenly alert, tense.

"What was it?" asked the chief inspector.

"Did the gas explode?" asked Wilson.

"Apparently not, Sir. They've only had a quick look of course, but, you know the stuff that chastity belt was made of? Well, apparently when they started to use the oxy-gas on it it exploded – just blew up. It was a hell of a bang. Shattered every pane of glass in the building, and for about a quarter-mile around. Everyone thought it was the Irish at it again!"

The chief inspector sat still, looking at his finger-tips.

"Sit down, Sergeant," he said. "You're twenty-five and unmarried, I believe."

"Yes Sir."

"Engaged to be married?"

"Not yet Sir. Nothing serious anywhere."

"Parents?"

"My mother passed away last year Sir. Father's due to retire from the Air Force next year."

"He'll be a man who knows his duty…" said the chief inspector, mysteriously. "Glasner, Inspector Wilson has been talking to me. And he's given me a glowing account of you, I may say. I know a lot more about this chastity belt thing than either of you. And I don't think anyone is going to get very far by routine methods. This is very serious, very serious indeed. And terribly dangerous too. Both the bodies you have seen have been agent working for Special Branch!"

Gerry stared in amazement. "On the force, Sir?"

"No. And that, I think was the mistake. They lacked enough experience to be able to look after themselves." He counted his fingers carefully, as if he felt there was one missing. Then he looked up so that Gerry had to meet his gaze. "I need a young, intelligent and dedicated volunteer for a job of great danger," he said quietly. "A job on whose success may depend the security of the country – and indeed the security of the world…"

"You mean me, Sir?"

"I am not giving any orders, Sergeant. In this you are a free man. And there won't be any adverse remarks on your Conduct Record if you refuse. I'm by no means sure I'd accept the job myself, even if I were young enough."

Without a moment's hesitation, Gerry said, "I'll do it Sir, if I may."

"Good. Wilson said you'd take that attitude! There's not a moment to waste. I'd like you, Wilson, to go along to the hospital and see what you can find out, if anything. I want to talk to Sergeant Glasner."

When they were alone, the chief inspector said, "This is all covered by the Official Secrets Act, Glasner. You could get ten years in jail if you talk! And now I've said that, let's be informal. This is not routine police business. In fact, as soon as we are finished here, I am going to dismiss you from the force in disgrace!"

"Sir?"

The chief inspector smiled, thinly. "It's only to give you cover! When it's over, you can come back in as Detective Inspector if you want to – and with no loss of pension rights! But I expect we shall find something else more interesting for you to do, if you want it!" He took a small box from a drawer and opened it, pushing it across the desk to Gerry. "What do you make of that?" he asked.

Gerry took the box in his hand. In it there was what looked like a length of very fine fuse-wire, about an inch long. He looked up, baffled.

"It is a fantastic piece of ultra-micro-miniature circuitry," said the chief inspector. "We don't know how it works yet, nor even what it is for. All we know for certain is this. That piece of wire was removed from the back of Betty Bronson's neck – that's the poor kid that ended up in the river. It was driven straight in, just between two vertebrae, into the spinal cord."

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"Is that what killed her Sir…"

"Not the driving of it in. That much is certain. But some kind of signal generated by that circuitry did kill her, instantly. And I'll tell you another thing. We may never be able to check the boy after that explosion, but I am sure there was a similar thing in his spinal cord – just as there have been in five other agents we have employed in the past six months, all of whom have died accidentally – and all of whom have been found wearing one of those chastity belts!"