The Undercover Detective part 14 the final part
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The Undercover Detective Part 1 free porn video
The Undercover Detective
Chapter 1
21st May
I knew that this was as good as it was going to get. Looking back at me,
in the mirror wasn't the most convincing looking woman I had ever seen,
but it was the best I could do. The face looked a little bit clownish.
Despite Kate's tuition, my skills at eye make up were still rudimentary.
It couldn't be helped. My legs weren't too bad, the hold up stockings
looked OK now that my legs were shaved. The sling backs, that I was
wearing, had a one and a half inch heel, but I had practiced enough at
home to feel confident and not stumble. Both finger and toe nails were
filed and painted to match my lipstick.
The wig didn't look as convincing as I had wanted. Real hair costs a
bomb, so we made do. The style suited my face. My dress was a fine,
stretchy, grey wool, just to the knee, and I had added a wide red belt,
pulled in tight to accentuate the waist that had been created by the
cinch. The sleeves were long, so there was no need to shave my arms. I
had padded the bra with, what Kate called, chicken fillets and that gave
me a small, but noticeable bust. The lack of hips was mannish, but,
because I am slim built and wiry, with a fairly wide pelvis, it didn't
shout man. The necklace matched the colour of the belt and the moonstone
ear studs and bracelet, added a bit of bling. I am lucky that I do not
have a heavy beard or prominent Adam's apple.
All in all I looked how I was supposed to look, a cross dresser taking
his first tentative steps. I had one last check in the mirror and took a
deep breath. Now it was time to mix with the punters in the bar at
Sparkles, one of London's favourite haunts for transvestites. One last
check of my bedroom and my meagre stash of clothes, then lock the door
and head down to the bar.
As I gingerly walked down the stairs, I could hear the noise of chatter
from the bar. The bar was in the huge basement, with a low ceiling, that
increased the feeling of crowds and noise. The barman, who faced me, wore
a muscle vest, tight jeans and a big friendly smile.
"What can I get you love?"
"A glass of white wine please."
"Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Pino Grigio, large or medium?"
"Sauvignon Blanc please, large."
"Coming up, that will be six fifty. Is this your first time here, I
don't think I have seen you before. I think I would have remembered a
good looking girl like you."
"Yes, it is my first time out anywhere, dressed. I am terrified and not
sure if I have done the right thing."
"With looks like yours, you will soon have admirers."
"I don't think that I am ready for that."
"Why not grab a seat and, if I see Auntie Mary, I will get her to come
and give you a welcome."
"Who is Auntie Mary?"
"She is the, ever present, mother hen of Sparkles. She welcomes all the
new, first time gurls, and helps them find their feet."
"Thanks"
I went and found a seat in the corner where I could observe the clientele
of the bar. Careful to sit in a ladylike fashion, I put my handbag on the
chair next to me and sipped my wine.
The rooms were busy with a wide variety of people. There were cosy groups
of gossiping ladies sat round tables. These ladies were mostly of middle
to older age groups. They were mostly dressed fairly conservatively. Most
wore wigs, but some had their, thinning, hair styled in a woman's style.
Most were a bit overweight and several appeared to have their own
breasts, small in the majority of cases, but with cleavage on display.
Some of these chatting women were dressed like young slappers, with make
up that was right over the top. They were laughing, chatting and seemed
to be having a great social night. It was apparent that these were old
friends, meeting in a place where they could be comfortably themselves.
There were others, dressed more attractively and in most cases younger.
These tended to be single, in pairs, or, at most, in small groups. Many
of them seemed to be displaying before the very mixed bunch of men. Some
of these gurls looked very female and had either taken hormones,
undergone surgery, or both.
There were some obvious, nervous newbies, some of whom had only been able
to partially dress as women. There were either wigs missing, shoes, or,
in several cases, make up. There were some couples, one person dressed as
a woman and a partner who was a genetic woman. In other cases the person
dressed was partnered by a man.
Round a table near the bar were, what can only be described as, Divas,
loud, glamorous, confident and on display.
It was a motley collection, everything from the beautiful to the
grotesque. The men who hovered round the fringes were also a strange mix,
all colours, nationalities and ages. There was a strong showing of middle
aged men who appeared to be of middle eastern or Arab background. As I
watched the men started to select their targets and move in to talk to
their chosen lady.
I found the whole atmosphere, unsettling and overwhelming. I was a
million miles outside my comfort zone.
I was jolted into the awareness of a large Arabic looking man looming
over me.
"May I join you?"
"Of course, please take a seat."
"You are kind and you are beautiful. It is good to sit with a pretty
lady. What is your name?"
"Mandy, what is your name?"
"You can call me John. Can I get you a drink? What would you like?"
"A Sauvignon Blanc would be good."
He signalled to one of the barmen without leaving his seat and turned
back to me.
"I have not seen you here before. I would have remembered someone as
pretty as you. Is this your first time?"
"Yes I have never been to a place like this before."
"Here is your wine, do you live near here."
"No, I am a stranger in town."
"Then I am a lucky man to be here when you visit us for the first time.
How did you hear about this place?"
"I read about it on line."
"Were you searching for a place where you could be your true self."
"Yes."
"Again, I am a lucky man to be here. Where are you stopping?"
"I have a room here."
"That is fortunate. You are a beautiful woman and it is your time of
wakening. I would like to show you how a woman like yourself can be given
the gift of love. I am a gentle and thoughtful lover. Shall we go to your
room and explore your feminine self?"
"I am sorry, but I am not here to find a partner. Thank you for the offer
but I am too new to this world. I need to find my feet first."
"That is a great shame, I can be a very generous and caring partner. I
can welcome you to your womanhood and care for you well."
"Thank you but no."
"Well beautiful lady, if you should change your mind, any time, I can
look after your needs and care for you most generously."
With that he stood, bowed and kissed my hand, before retreating from the
room. It was then that I was aware that my heart rate had been extremely
elevated and I was feeling a little faint. The whole conversation had
been bizarrely strange. This was not a world where I knew how to be.
He had been tall and well built. He smelt of an expensive, manly cologne
and he was dressed immaculately. His watch must have cost thousands and
his suit would have paid for the mortgage on a house. He oozed wealth and
privilege. Maybe I should have found out more about him. That was why I
was there.
I sipped at my wine and waited for my nerves to settle and my heart beat
to return to normal. A friendly looking lady, probably in her late
fifties approached my table.
"Hello love, mind if I join you?"
"No, please do."
"You look as though you have had a fright. Are you OK? I saw that "Call
Me John" was pestering you."
"Yes, he did try to chat me up. I found it a bit intimidating."
"I know, he is a bit of a pain in the arse. My name is Mary, by the way,
people tend to call me Auntie Mary. What is your name?"
"Mandy."
"Pretty name, this must be your first time here, I have not seen you
before. You look very good."
"Yes this is my first time out anywhere. I have dressed at home before,
but I have never had the courage to go out anywhere. My parents didn't
know but mum caught me dressed, told dad and he gave me an ultimatum
after hitting me and calling me all manner of names, get manly or get
out. I lost my temper, said a lot of things that I should not have,
packed my girl stuff and walked out. I had seen this place on the
internet and it was the only place I could think of going.
I am not sure whether this was such a good idea. I have been scared ever
since I arrived. I know I look a bit of a fright."
"You look very presentable. If this is your first time, you have done
very well. You will develop your skills over time, but you could pass
quite well. What were you hoping for tonight?"
"I just wanted to try being me. If I spend some time here in the bar and
then return to my room, then I will have made a significant step forward.
I can think about what next, tomorrow. I will need to find somewhere to
live in a hurry and a way of earning some money. I want to start living
as a woman, so I don't want to go back home and wear men's clothes. I
don't know what to do, but I booked a room here for tonight. I don't want
to go home with my tail between my legs so I will have to decide what to
do very quickly, I am scared of tomorrow but happy tonight."
"Ah, so you have a room here. That was a good idea. You do need to know
how this establishment works though. People come here for a variety of
reasons. One reason is to find a partner and have sex. There will be a
considerable amount of traffic around the rooms tonight. You will see
that in some rooms there are gatherings of people to watch while others
have sex. If you are not interested, just walk by, no will interfere with
you.
"Others will be going from room to room. If you want to join in, just
leave your room door ajar. People will then know that you are willing. If
you want, you can go from room to room yourself.
"I don't get involved in any of those capers. They can go on all night.
Most of my friends only come here to meet their friends and have a lovely
social evening. Still, everyone to their own, if you just want to sleep
later, no one will bother you. The only thing you need to be a little
wary of, are those who are recruiting for their escort agencies. You
won't be bothered unless you show interest. Now would you like Auntie
Mary to introduce you to some of my friends."
"Yes please."
The next few hours were spent in pleasant company. My companions ranged
from one teenager up to some, who I would guess to be in their seventies.
I was gently quizzed about my reasons for cross dressing. It was clear
that some were, either partially, or fully transitioned and living full
time as women. Others were dressed for the night. None of this crowd
seemed to be there purely for the sex.
My back story was that I had cross dressed as a youth in secret and that
I was struggling with a compulsion to be female. I told the group that I
had just finished my finals at Imperial College and my parents had found
my female clothes. A massive row had followed and I had walked out. I
told the group that I did not think I would be able to go back home
unless I accepted a beating and promised to never wear women's clothes
again. The story hung together reasonably well. Every time I left the
security of our chatty group I was hit on by one or other of the men, who
hovered round the fringes.
The majority of the group lived in London, a few were married, and their
wives knew where they were. Most were single or in a relationship with a
man. Some were there without their wives having any idea exactly where
they were.
The ones who were open, in their lives, about being, either in
transition, or living as a female, seemed more relaxed and confident. The
ladies, who were still in the closet, tended to be more nervous. A couple
cheerfully stated that they had rooms and were looking forward to a good
rodgering later.
Eventually conversation turned to Francine, who had been found dead, in
the local park, murdered. She had spent the evening, of her murder, at
Sparkles. Nobody had seen her leave. She had dined with Jenny and then
the two had gone to her room. Jenny had left at about nineish and
Francine had been seen in the bar, on her own after that. It was a
mystery and a concern. When one of their own was harmed, it made them all
nervous. That murder had been some weeks before.
There was some discussion about the men that Francine had mixed with over
the months and there was speculation that she had stopped with a
boyfriend on some occasions when she had visited London. That was
information we had not had before. One of the group said that she had
spoken to Francine the previous visit before the murder and Francine had
spoken about possibly doing a little escort work. She had thought the
prospect to be very exciting. She had also spoken about trying out as a
hostess at a bar in Manchester.
The evening rolled on and members of the group started to leave or
adjourn to bed. Before the party broke up, several, including Auntie
Mary, were going to Mac and Mabel's the following night for the Karaoke.
They asked if I wanted to come. There was a changing room and lockers for
those who wanted to dress. I decided that it would be a good idea to join
them.
I decided to go on up to my room and took my time to do a walk round the
corridors. In a couple of rooms there were people watching others having
sex. It was a strange mixture. Some were in female dress, others in male.
The watchers were intense and the participants noisy. Other rooms had
their doors ajar. I pushed one open and a middle aged man in a teenagers
dress was sat on the bed. As I looked in, he looked up and gave me a shy
smile. I said hallo and went to leave. A look of deep sadness washed over
his face and his head dropped as he stared at the floor once more.
I looked in another door and saw what looked like a young woman staring
into the mirror. The face in the mirror beckoned me into the room, but I
smiled a left. I had had enough, I went to my room and made sure my door
was properly closed.
I had learned a fair bit about this strange world in my first evening, so
I sat on the bed and wrote notes on all that I could remember. This was
the first evening of working under cover, pretending to be a cross
dresser.
As a young detective constable, I had been steamrolled into acting as a
transgender person. It was in an effort to get on the inside of the world
inhabited by transgender people and cross dressers. The CID team,
investigating the murders, had been unable to get any information from
that world and had been shut out completely. The police were treated with
deep suspicion. It was the DCI who had forced me into this situation. It
had not been a direct order, but he had made it clear, that if I did not
volunteer, I would be off the team and out of a job.
My problems, with the chief inspector, had started on the first day I
arrived at the nick as a Detective Constable fresh out of probation.
Chapter 2
30th April
"So you are my new DC. It is an extremely dubious honour to have you
added to my team. I have just lost a bloody good DC, who had learned the
job the right way. He had the experience of being on the beat and he had
served a long apprenticeship in CID. Now he has gone and got the
promotion that he deserves and moved to pastures new.
"Instead, now I have you, wet behind the ears, a bloody criminology
graduate, God help us, with no time on the beat and an accelerated move
through CID probation. You might be the Superintendent's blue eyed little
boy, but you are going to have to work bloody hard to prove yourself
here. I don't like people who short circuit the system, but I am bloody
stuck with you.
"I will be happy, if you cock up in any way, because then, I will be able
to give you a lousy report, get you canned and get a proper detective in
your place. Now fuck off and see DS Waters and ask her what needs doing."
"Yes Chief Inspector, thank you."
"And don't call me Chief Inspector, it is either Guv, Boss or Chief. Piss
off and let me get some work done."
I walked out of his office feeling very flat. Here was I, on my first day
with the serious crime team, more than a bit excited and my new boss
makes it perfectly clear that he does not want me. I know my route into
the Met Police CID seemed a short cut to the old school, but I had worked
damn hard to get where I was. I might only have been in the job for a
year but I had passed every test, on the fast track, with flying colours
and had felt pretty pleased with myself.
"I suppose you must be the new DC. I am DS Waters and I will be looking
after you most of the time. If you work hard and keep your nose clean,
you won't get any grief from me. Your desk is over there next to DC
Dawson. The others are DS Irani in the blue trousers and DC Dawson is the
ugly one next to her. We have a couple of wooden tops helping out on
secondment but they don't count as a full score.
The boss may well have given you a hard time. He dislikes anyone who is
young, anyone who is a graduate, anyone who has fast tracked and anyone
who comes with the Super's blessing. You managed to score on all points.
You have joined the team at a difficult time. We have a rape case that is
getting close to going to court and a homicide case that is stalling
badly. We had the death of a guy who was found in women's underwear, a
wig and make up. He had no ID on him and it took us four days before we
found out who he was. He was found in the bushes in a park on Tuesday
morning, nearly two weeks ago. The poor guy, who found her, him, thought
she, he, was a young woman. It soon became clear when his wig came off
and a SOCO noticed his todger, that this was no woman.
I know we were still tied up with the rape case, but we should have
sussed out where he had been a lot sooner. One of the wooden tops
mentioned that there was a hotel, come club, locally, that catered
exclusively for the gay community. They had tranny nights on Monday and
Tuesday. How the PC knew about it, he refused to say. Anyway, when we
went to this place, called Sparkles, the picture of our man was
recognised as Francine. He was a regular at Sparkles, going there at
least three or four times a year. He had booked a room under the name
Francine, no surname, but luckily, he had dined in their restaurant and
paid by credit card. The room was paid in cash.
From there we identified our man as Frank Johns, a married man with two
young kids who lived in Derby. He had been reported missing two days
before. We have masses of data from SOCO but no real leads. The boss is
pissed off with dealing with what he calls a weirdo and is in a foul
mood. The rest of us are trying to tie up the rape case, so introduce
yourself to Dickie Dawson and read up the case notes."
"Thanks sarge, I'll get on with the background and try not to upset the
boss too much."
I introduced myself to Dickie, he was large, a bit overweight and seemed
quite affable. His mood brightened even more when I offered to get him a
cup of tea. He was ploughing through CCTV from around the area of the
Sparkles club, trying to catch any glimpse of our victim over the key
time period. He was now trolling footage from quite a distance from the
club.
I sat myself down and prepared for a long read. I started with the
background of the victim. He was 38 years old and had been married for
ten years. The two children were seven (a boy) and five (a girl). He sold
inventory management packages to distribution organisations and travelled
a lot with his job. His poor wife had not heard from him on the Tuesday
and had tried to phone him with no answer. When she had obtained no
contact by Wednesday, she phoned his company. His firm said that he had
missed both his Tuesday and Wednesday appointments. Sharon, the wife then
reported him to the police as missing. On the Friday he was finally
identified as the cross dresser Francine.
The local police had interviewed the wife, who had no knowledge of her
husband's other life. She was devastated. The Derby police had found a
stash of women's clothing, make up and a wig hidden in the garden shed.
The autopsy report was illuminating. Frank or Francine had his wrists
tied with cable ties. She had been killed with a blow to the head from
behind, which had sufficient force to cave in the skull, but before
death, L20-13 had been carved in his chest with a sharp knife. The victim
had eaten a vegetarian meal and drunk a significant amount of alcohol in
the last six to eight hours before death. There was evidence that he had
been penetrated sexually at least once in the last six to eight hours and
that the sex had been consensual. There were traces of semen on his
clothes, on his face and in his wig. Death had been estimated as being
between 2.00-5.00 a.m. and the murder had not taken place where the body
was found.
The team had found it almost impossible to get the full details of who
had been at the club. There were no CCTV systems and the club was very
happy for its patrons to use false names and pay by cash. It was very
rare for customers to use cards. Frank's companion for the meal had been
identified as a long term customer of Sparkles. They had dined between
7.00 and 8.00 pm and then gone to Frank's room. The DCI had dragged this
dinner companion in as soon as he had been identified. Some of the semen
traces were a match and the DCI was convinced they had an early result.
The suspect's story had been, that he and Frank were old friends. He had
befriended Frank some six years before, when Frank had first visited the
club. He had taken Frank under his wing and taught him about how to cross
dress convincingly. He had become a regular sexual partner when Frank was
in town. They had indulged up in Frank's room for an hour or so, but then
John or Jenny as he wanted to called, had gone home to his partner. His
partner lived in an apartment in South Kensington and was a senior
partner in a City Solicitor's firm. The legal support that John had
received had been of the highest order.
The DCI had pushed as hard as he could but CCTV evidence showed John on
his way back to South Kensington, in several places, and finally entering
the apartment at 10.00 pm. Nobody had left the apartment, after that
time, until the following morning.
The boss had challenged the video evidence and the estimated time of
death, but, in the end, he had to let our suspect go. There were no
sightings of Frank after John left other than a visit to Sparkles bar.
Somehow, he must have left the club, but we did not know when or how. The
Sparkles building had been gone over with a fine tooth comb. There was
copious evidence of sexual activity and even some traces of blood (not
the victim's) but no sign that the killing had taken place anywhere in
the club.
Unfortunately, there was no CCTV in the immediate vicinity of Sparkles.
The owner and clients of the establishment had been diligent in
preserving their anonymity.
Frank's phone had not been found, but phone records had shown that he had
received a call at 9.43pm on that Monday evening. The call had been from
an untraced phone.
The team had grilled all the staff and the owner but none of their DNA
matched that found on Frank. Each person could account for their
movements through the evening and night. The team had gone back to
interview those who turned up the following Monday, but strangely, hardly
anyone turned up for the ladies night.
Of those few people that they had identified, all could account for their
time.
Frank's computer had been gone over by the technicians and they had found
that Frank had been in correspondence with several like minded cross
dressers. Every one had been traced and checked, they all had alibis.
Some heavy handed interviewing had resulted in some wives finding out
something new about their husbands.
Frank had also investigated the Escort web sites that specialised in
promoting cross dressers. He had followed up a couple with enquiries, but
that too was a cold trail. Frank had taken it no further than an enquiry.
The only healthy lead that they had was the mystery phone call and six
other calls to untraced numbers over the previous three months.
The cross dressing community was proving to be very uncooperative. It was
not that surprising with the aggressive attitude of the chief and the
fact that many were not out to their families, friends or employers.
The other big lead was the L20-13 carved in the victim's chest. It was DS
Irani who had identified that it was a reference to Leviticus chapter 20
verse 13.
"If a man has sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman, both
of them have done what is detestable. They are to be put to death; their
blood will be on their own heads."
It was clear from that quote, what the motivation for the killing was.
All the team had to do, was to find that particular religious nutter. It
was interesting that none of the heathen Christians had recognised the
old testament quote and the only Moslem member of the team had identified
it.
The day passed quickly, while I read the case notes. Dickie filled in the
gaps and answered many of my questions. He was inclined to mirror the
boss' distaste for what he called "the weirdoes". He seemed good fun,
though, and we lunched together in the greasy spoon next door to the
nick.
At the end of a long day reading, it was time for home.
Miracle
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