SECRET CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of suspense (8 page)

Chapter 7: Rae

Monday

Sophie was woken early the next morning by the sound of a text message. She glanced at her phone and frowned. Barry Marsh had new information about Shapiro.

‘I think I may need to move Rosemary somewhere safe,’ she said.

Martin emerged from under the duvet. ‘What?’

‘Barry’s just sent me a message that Shapiro might be an ex-policeman with an axe to grind. If he’s gone off the rails completely he’ll be very dangerous. I can’t leave either of them where they are, it’s too risky. And I have to make this bloody visit to HQ for some inexplicable reason, just when I can least afford the time.’

An hour after phoning Rosemary, Sophie Allen was at Dorset police headquarters in Winfrith. She was leaning across her boss’s desk, almost fizzing with anger. ‘What am I doing here, Matt? I’m up to my neck in a murder investigation and I’m told to drive all the way up here to collect my new DC? Why couldn’t she come down to me? Has the world gone completely bonkers?’

Her immediate superior, Superintendent Matt Silver, held up his hands in mock surrender, apparently relieved that she was on the other side of a desk.

‘It was all arranged in the middle of last week and HR won’t budge. I know no more about this than you. Nine on Monday morning, that’s all I was told. And it’s you only. No one else knows what’s going on, not even me.’

‘I often notice that, but I don’t actually say it.’

‘Very witty, Sophie, but I’m not in the mood this morning. I’ve got a day of meetings on budget cuts, and you can guess my feelings about that.’

‘Well, is she here now? I’ve been in the incident room since seven this morning, and had to break off to drive up here. I suppose HR think we all start at nine, like them.’

‘I don’t know where she is. Your appointment is with the chief of HR, not me. Like I said, I’m as much in the dark as you. Listen, while you’re here, is there anything else you need help with in the investigation? I know we’ve spoken on the phone every day, but I wanted to say again that you only need to ask. The ACC confirmed it earlier.’

‘At the moment I’m okay, Matt. And if this new DC is good, then she will fill the gap left by Lydia. I’m actually feeling quite positive about things in the long term. Barry Marsh has agreed to join the team full-time as my permanent DS, so I’ve finally got what I wanted. Though it’s taken far too bloody long.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I’d better be going. I’ve wasted so much time this morning.’

Sophie poured herself a coffee from the jug beside his desk and left the office, muttering to herself. She made her way up the stairs and along a corridor to the HR reception desk.

‘DCI Sophie Allen,’ she announced to the immaculately clad receptionist. She glanced down at her own faded cord trousers and scuffed ankle boots. At least her tan leather jacket still passed muster, but she really needed a new outfit. She sighed.

‘Ms Blake asked for you to wait.’ The receptionist fingered his blue and red striped tie, looking a little embarrassed. He pointed to some chairs, one of which was occupied by a tall young woman. She was smartly dressed, with dark hair styled in a short bob, sitting stiffly upright, leafing through a magazine.

‘Phone through and tell her that I’m heading up a murder inquiry. If she doesn’t see me right now it’ll become a double one, with your boss as the second victim. Okay, sweetheart?’

He picked up the phone and made the call, quoting her exact words, including “sweetheart.” Sophie muttered and, ignoring his look of alarm, stalked past the desk and opened the door. Sandie Blake, Head of HR, was alone in the office, setting down the phone.

‘Sweetheart? What was that about?’ she asked.

Sophie shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me. Maybe he’s got the hots for you.’ She looked pointedly at her watch. ‘Make it fast, please. The murder bit was true.’

‘I know. The ACC’s PA has already been on to me. Take a seat.’

‘Do I have to? Can’t you just condense what you have to say into ten words, then let me go?’

‘No, I can’t. So take a seat. Please.’

Sophie sighed and sat down. She sipped her coffee.

Sandie picked up a sheet of paper. ‘Your new DC is the person waiting in reception. But you need some information first. And it must be confidential — to you and any other officer in direct command of her.’ She paused. ‘Her name is Rachel Gregson. Until two and a half years ago she was Raymond Gregson. Rae, spelt with a letter E, is transgender.’

‘Right. And how does that affect things, exactly?’

‘It doesn’t. That’s the point I have to make clear to you. She must be treated like any other detective constable. And as I said, only you and your sergeant are to know. As far as everyone else is concerned, she’s just another woman DC.’

‘Well that won’t be a problem for me or my sergeant, Sandie. But let’s be realistic. People are likely to guess sooner or later. My understanding is that female to male TSs are far more successful at going unnoticed. This way round is a lot harder. Isn’t that right? So we’d better be prepared. Anything else I need to know about her?’

‘She asked for me to put you in the picture. Everything else is in her documentation. She’s got that with her. This sheet of paper that I’ve been trying to pass to you, and you’ve been studiously ignoring, is a summary of the procedures to be followed in this situation.’

Sophie took the sheet and glanced at it. ‘I thought people in her position were quietly shifted into back-room jobs, with little contact with the public in case anyone takes offence? Though to me that’s always seemed offensive in itself. What’s important is how well someone does their job, surely?’

‘You’re thinking of uniformed officers. It’s been decided that detectives are in less direct contact with the public anyway. And as far as I can tell, every case is to be treated individually. We were very impressed with her at the interview. She asked to be kept in a role as similar as possible to her previous one. She’s ideal for what you want, Sophie. She fills almost all of your requests, far more than anyone else in the frame. And she comes across really well.’

‘Seems fair enough. Point me in her direction and I’ll be on my way.’

Sophie put Matt Silver’s spare coffee mug down on the HR chief’s desk and left. The receptionist gave her a nervous smile as she passed.

The young DC stood up when Sophie approached.

‘Hello, Rae. Glad you’ve joined the squad. It’s bedlam at the moment, and we need you.’

She held out her hand. Rae was wearing a neat, dark blue skirt and a well-fitting tailored jacket in blue corduroy. Sophie could make out the neckline of a pale pink jumper under the jacket. Low-heeled ankle boots completed the outfit. Rae took her hand tentatively.

‘Ma’am.’

Sophie ushered her towards the stairs.

‘My good friend Sandie in HR has filled me in on your background. You’ve had a difficult time, I imagine. No regrets?’

‘No. It was the right thing for me. For the first time for as long as I can remember, I feel right in myself. I’ll work hard for you, ma’am.’

‘I expect nothing less from anyone who works for me, Rae. And I like your outfit. I have a teenage daughter at home who acts as my unofficial style adviser, so I’m fairly up to date.’

‘I thought quite a bit about what to wear. I suppose my clothes are a sign that I’ve arrived where I’ve always wanted to be.’

Sophie looked again at her watch.

‘We need to get moving. Time’s slipping away like the wind, and even I, Sophie Allen, can’t slow it down. I’m only human — despite what you may have heard. I see you have a file for me.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Slip this in.’ She handed over the policy page as they got into her car. ‘While I’m driving, you can read it all out to me. Then you’ll know everything that I know, and you can fill in any gaps. I’ll need to tell my sergeant, Barry Marsh, since he’ll be your immediate superior. He’s a careful and thoughtful bloke, and I’m sure you’ll get on well with him. But you may need to give him some time before he relaxes.’

‘You’ve taken it very well, ma’am. I’m grateful. I know you weren’t told in advance.’

‘Well, I’ve been through it before, a few years ago when I was still in the West Midlands. That time it was a female to male transition, so it was easier for him. People get a much easier ride that way round, as far as I can tell. It’s easier to create a more androgynous, slightly masculine look, I suppose.’

‘It’s also the hormones he’ll have had. Testosterone is much more powerful than the oestrogen I take. The effect kicks in quicker and is much more marked. It even causes the voice to get lower. Oestrogen does nothing for that.’

‘Your voice isn’t bad. Have you been for coaching?’

Rae nodded. ‘I paid for the lessons myself. It’s possible to get them on the NHS but I decided not to wait. I hope it was worth it.’

‘I’d say it was. You sound midway, if that makes sense. It certainly doesn’t stand out as masculine. I guess the only problem is when you’re on the telephone, because when people can see you, they get the whole you, and you’re very convincing visually. Your skin tone is good, Rae. Half the battle is trying to maintain a good complexion and I’m afraid I’m losing that particular one.’

‘I don’t think you are, ma’am.’

Sophie accelerated out onto the main road, heading east towards Wareham. ‘Do you want to tell me about your background? Your reasons? I mean the stuff that isn’t in the file? Don’t feel that you have to, by the way. It’s just that you’re earmarked as a permanent member of my team if the trial period works out. It might help us understand each other.’

‘It’s not a problem, ma’am. I suppose I fit the pattern pretty closely. My childhood wasn’t particularly unhappy. My parents were great. But I didn’t fit in well with the other boys in my class, even when I was at primary school. I gravitated towards the girls, though I don’t think I was overtly feminine in any way, certainly not pre-puberty. I just didn’t enjoy the rough and tumble of being a boy and I kept myself to myself for much of the time. Once I was in my teens I occasionally had these strange feelings of wishing I could be a girl, at least some of the time. It wasn’t constant, it wasn’t particularly strong and it didn’t dominate my life, but more and more often I found myself connecting socially with the girls of my age rather than the boys. In my mid-teens that feeling got stronger and I suppose that’s when I realised that maybe something wasn’t quite right. That’s when I took some wrong steps, all in an attempt to get myself back on track, as I saw it. I started to copy the behaviour of other boys, but tried to outdo them. I drank, I swore, I was vile to the girls I went out with. I’m not proud of that time.’

‘But you came through it, obviously.’

‘My parents knew that something was wrong, but didn’t know what to do about it. All the time I was battling with this conflict inside of me and I felt as if I was being torn apart. Then two things happened over the course of a couple of years. I went on a couple of army taster sessions, looking for the ultimate masculine, macho lifestyle that I thought might cure me, if that’s the right expression. But I became almost physically sick because it was all so repellent to everything I really felt, and so I joined the police instead. Still fairly macho, you see, but a bit more moderate. And the second thing was that I fell for a young woman who saw through me. She could see how unhappy I was and she started trying to draw out my feelings. I loved her, but I couldn’t let her know it. I think she loved me. The trouble was that as she tried more and more to get me to look at myself, the worse my behaviour towards her became. I treated her like shit for a while, I really did, and I’m ashamed of it.’

Rae fell silent. Sophie sensed that the young DC was becoming upset. ‘You don’t have to tell me all this, Rae. If it’s causing you pain, you can stop.’

‘No, it’s okay, ma’am. It’s probably good for me to get it out in the open. I’ve not really had a good chance to talk things through with anyone since I stopped my counselling sessions after I transitioned.’

‘Well, if you’re sure you want to continue, that’s fine. But look, why don’t you read me the stuff in your file first? Then decide if you want to tell me the rest of your personal account once we’ve got that out of the way.’

Rae read through the contents of the personnel file that Sandie Blake had prepared. Then she returned to her story.

‘Hettie and I had been together just over a year when we realised that things just couldn’t go on the way they were. I was still feeling depressed, and was feeling physically sick again, just like a few years earlier with the army trials. I was making Hettie miserable. Things came to a head and I told her how I really felt about my life, and my place in the world. The strange thing was, she wasn’t really surprised. She told me how much it all fitted together. It was her that got me to contact a counsellor and a transgender group . . . I walked in on a social event and I suddenly knew I had found my spiritual home. Hettie knew. She came with me, to give me support and she could see how things suddenly fell into place for me. I found inner calm and peace, probably for the first time since my early teens. There was never any doubt in my mind once I’d been for some psychiatric assessments. Some of the other girls who were there for consideration at the same time as me, were discussing possible best answers to questions that might be put to us during the assessments. Trying to outwit the system. I didn’t bother. I just responded with what I felt in my heart and I sailed through, a perfect example of gender dysphoria. I had surgery two years ago and here I am now, just as you see me.’