Passion Patrol 2 - a Sexy Police Romance Suspense Novel With a Touch of Humor: Hot Cops. Hot Crime. Hot Romance. (31 page)

“I think I caught Jasmine’s voice.”

“You did. There’s a lot you don’t know and maybe you don’t want to. Jasmine and I are gonna talk turkey. If you want to listen in I’ll fix it.”

“That sounds a bit underhanded.”

“It is. We’re talking Jasmine here. All things are relative. It’s up to you. I don’t propose to see her again after today. If you’re there, you’ll see why.”

“You’re going to be my bride. I’ll be there at your side, sharing the truth.”

“Right answer hero bear,” she said smiling. “Come at half past one.”

She booked on duty at 11 o’clock. Her first job was to close the file on Ben. The next job was to call Mel. She longed to show him the ring. She talked of Spencer. He talked of Tim. So often friendships had to submerge to ride out the storms of other loves. All the same they shared their individual joys like two people eating two delicious cakes rather than holding hands and cooking one. By 1:30 p.m. she felt she’d done a day’s work. There were a few wet cats. An arsonist had attacked a wheelie trash bin, probably with a cigarette end. She wanted to phone her parents but her mother might be on night shift cleaning at King’s College hospital. She needed her sleep more than she needed her child gabbling on about being a bloody countess and living in a mansion with servants. She caught up on operation Kakkada. Things were moving at a pace. It wouldn’t be long before they were splintering doors in Fleetworth-Green.

Spencer arrived at 1:30. He had walked in order to avoid his vehicle being outside. She made a cup of tea and sat with him in the kitchen. She was so conscious of the ring on her finger. She couldn’t stop looking at it. She seated Spencer in a small store-room adjoining her office and left the door slightly ajar. As the hour approached she felt more and more nervous. Right on time she heard Jasmine at the front door.

“Ms de Montfort, do come in,” she said.

She noted her expensive business suit, manicured nails and perfect makeup. Shannon had opted to dress in police uniform, just to underline what she was. She motioned for Jasmine to sit on the opposite side of the desk. Shannon spread her hands palms down on the surface, exposing the ring. She saw her opponent’s eyes dart to it at once.

“That’s the famous ‘Toi et Moi’ ring that’s just sold in Paris,” she said.

“I’m such a lucky girl. Spencer snapped it up for me.”

Jasmine’s face almost contorted in spite and hatred.

“Since I filmed you in a sex act with PC Gary Woods I guess you’ve had time to think.”

“Come to the point,” Jasmine snapped.

“I have enough evidence to arrest you for perverting the course of justice. Do you agree?”

“You’d never prove it.”

“You followed Ben to Kingston. You phoned your lover boy police officer and homed him in on Ben. When he was reluctant to stop him you threatened to go to his wife and expose your affair. I’ve got the record from your mobile phone, I’ve got a statement from PC Woods and I’ve got the CCTV images of you in Kingston.” Shannon paused to give her a long hard stare. “If I arrest you, your legal career is over. No more Queens Counsel, no elevation to judge, no respect from anyone you know. There’s always a chance you’d get off. You know if I push the shit button, you’ll die in the stink. Tell me I’m wrong or what I’ve said isn’t true.”

Jasmine darted another look at the ring flaunting itself on her finger.

“You fucking slut.”

“Jasmine de Montfort, I’m arresting you for perverting the course of justice. You do not have to say anything....”

“Stop. Stop,” said Jasmine.

Shannon held out her arms in an open-palmed gesture.

“I can stop and you can step out of here back into your lovely life. Or you can step screaming into the back of a prison truck. Geddit? Let’s start with some honesty. You set Ben up in order to get him out of the way because he hates you. You actually followed him to make sure PC Woods got him, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

“I did it for Spencer. The boy can’t see the wider picture. A noble aristocrat needs a partner of his own rank, caliber, and wealth.”

“You did it?”

“Yes, OK I did what I had to do. If that’s what satisfies you. Yes.”

“You’ve told Ben for years that he mustn’t criticize you to his father because you represent his one true chance of happiness.”

“And that’s true. A nobleman, a peer of the realm, can’t just take up with any old scrubber.”

There was a creak as the adjoining door opened. Spencer filled the space, massive and stern faced.

“I will be the judge of my partner. I will love as my heart leads me. You disgust me. I have cold contempt for you.”

Jasmine appeared almost to faint.

“Spencer.”

He held up his hand to silence her.

“I could say so much. I could unleash such anger on you. That drug business shattered my pride and belief in my son. My son! Saskia’s son! Without Shannon that arrest could have denied him his fair chances in life. You didn’t care. You are evil. Let us not even start to consider Saskia’s death. I know now that Ben always thought you’d murdered his mother.”

Shannon watched his face. He was white with anger and possibly dangerous. She needed to step in.

“This is the deal. You never come near these folks again. You live a charitable life. You never again blackmail or contact PC Gary Woods. If you mess with any of us I will wait until you’re appointed to the Bench as a judge and post my footage of your oral sex romp with a married police officer on the internet. I will destroy you. I will expose this whole story. I will wreck your entire life regardless of any risk to me. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” she said.

“Good,” said Spencer.

“There’s something you two should know anyway. Prince Xavier has asked me to marry him. I’d make a fair princess, don’t you think?”

“Jasmine, I wish you well. We all get what we deserve in the end they say. Please don’t invite us to the wedding, but you have our best wishes,” said Shannon, catching Spencer’s surprised expression from the corner of her eye. “Did you come in your Range Rover? I need to check the spacing on your number plate.”

“It’s been changed. There’s too many petty nobodies these days.”

“Countess Nobody—that’ll be me,” said Shannon, waving her ring finger at her.

Jasmine stood up and went to the door.

“How do I know I can trust you?” she said.

“A deal is a deal. You have our word. It’s more than you deserve. You have disgraced the name of your family. I hope I never have to reveal your treachery to those who know us. Now get out,” he said.

She turned and strode away. She slammed the door and didn’t look back.

“It’s such an awful business,” said Spencer, slumping down in the vacated seat. “I had no idea you had CCTV and mobile phone records.”

“I don’t. Don’t tell anyone will you? I wanted her to confess ... and she did.”

“Do you think she led Saskia to her death?”

“I think we’ll never know.”

“She’s got away with everything hasn’t she? Prince Xavier is going to marry her even if it is just for her polo ponies and money. She’s going to be a bloody princess.”

Shannon was smiling. Spencer looked at her quizzically.

“I’m afraid Her Royal Harness won’t be quite as royal as she would like to think.”

“Really?”

“No, he’s not a prince. He’s a con man called John Pulford from Liverpool.”

“That’s amazing. He introduced me to his older brother, the Crown Prince of Montenegro.”

“The Crown Prince of Montenegro does exist. The man you met was a criminal associate named Andy Preston. They’re a bit of a double act. Con men always tie their lies to something true you can verify. You have to dig deeper to find there is no brother. Your optimism fills in the gaps.”

“How do you know all this?”

“At the cricket match I noticed his watch was a fake. His accent was just too genteel. He left a full glass of wine at our table. I drank it but slipped the glass into my bag out of police interest. I had it dusted for prints. When I knew Jasmine was interested in him I checked out the royal family of Montenegro.”

“And Jasmine doesn’t know?”

“She’s a grown up girl. It’s up to her. She could marry him and change her first name to Princess. He talks the talk and walks the walk. Jasmine has got blue-blood detectors so she doesn’t need my advice. One always knows royal blood doesn’t one?”

Spencer had started to laugh.

“I shouldn’t be laughing, I know, but it’s a kind of justice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. She gets a young stud. As soon as he has access to her money he’ll clean her out and make off. She can afford it. My advice to you is to make sure he can’t get his hands anywhere near your till.”

He stood and drew her up into his arms.

“All I can do with you is just keep saying I love you.”

“You’re not perfect yet—do it again,” she said.

It was time to call her parents. Her mother answered. Her voice was tired.

“Are you on nights?” asked Shannon.

“I was but we’ve all been laid off and put on agency work. Now you get a night and a day then no work and then maybe a night. It’s the same hospital, same work but just casual labor with no pattern, less money, and no pension,” said her mother.

This was the real life of her own people.

“You’re saving the economy, mum.”

“It’s a lot worse for some others. At least we’re getting by.”

Shannon felt a twitch of anger. Her mother always accepted that their lives on the bottom would be poor and hard. Her own news seemed almost obscene. She imagined her in their small council flat where she herself had grown up and learned to survive.

“Mum, I’m gonna get married.”

“What? Who to? Is he sane?”

“Spencer. Dad must have told you about him.”

“What—that duke bloke?”

“He’s an earl.”

“I haven’t even met him.”

“We’ll fix that.”

There was a long silence from her mother.

“That’s so wonderful Shannon. I can’t take it in.”

“I’ve got a week off starting in two days’ time. We’ll all get together. Don’t tell Spencer the truth about me or he’ll change his mind.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

Her mother was crying.

“I love you, Mum. I’ll see you soon,” she said.

Spencer had a serious expression.

“Yes, maybe I should have spoken with your parents. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your call, but is your mother having trouble with her employment?”

“God, you’re so posh Spencer,” she said with a laugh. “Her
employment
is crap. Absolute and utter shit—and I mean big dollops of stinking human shit, mainly on night shifts for low wages. She’s proud of her life and of what she does.”

“I’m very much looking forward to meeting her. She must be quite a woman to have created you.”

“She only did my white bits and my freckles.”

“Freckles?”

“They’re in here somewhere. Breed with me you just dunno what’s gonna pop out. A pathologist told me last week we’re all ninety-five percent dog.”

Spencer started to laugh.

“Honestly Shannon. I just never know what you’re going to say next.”

“How about I love you, my man.”

She had a shift of routine police work to finish and Spencer had to dash to his office in London. All in all things hadn’t gone too badly. She cycled around her patch and chanced to see Selena Fontesse emerging from the traditional family butcher’s shop. The actress greeted her with true thespian joy. The sight of a uniformed village police constable embracing a mini-skirted stilettoed barbie doll would have been comic to any passerby. Shannon was glad to note she’d cleaned up her sniffing act, at least for now.

“Oh Shannon, sweetie, girlfriend! Do you know, I’ve got a fabulous new project. Vandervell is away today and I’m going to make him a proper meat pie to surprise him.”

An idea came to Shannon. She hadn’t told anyone about her engagement and she’d never made her man a dinner.

“Selena, if I get some ingredients do you know how to make this pie?”

“Not really, I’ve got a recipe. It’ll be so so fun. All that flour and marzipan and stuff. We could do it together in my kitchen and have a drink or something. I’m on and off that TV show
Kittens’ Kitchens
but all the cooking was done by chefs off camera. Last episode I had to go to an organic market and pose with a cucumber. Then I just had to dip my finger in some gloop and lick it off and talk about being an old-fashioned girl at heart wanting to give that special pleasure to my lover.”

“Your lover?”

“Yes. I was with Alfredo Oswaldino for that show.”

“The ex-footballer?”

“That’s him, old bleached blond twinkle bollocks. I had to tell the world of daytime TV viewers that my home cooking put an extra swerve into his balls.”