By
Jan
Chapter 9
Nikki
frowned as she looked at the thickset guy sitting at the bar. He had been in
for the past few nights, seemingly minding his own business but his eyes missed
nothing. She’d seen his type before. He had ‘copper’ written all over him but
the club was clean, she’d seen to that. Anyone found dealing was soon ejected,
usually with her foot behind them.
She’d
seen him making a play for Trisha earlier, seen his hand resting on her rear.
Her anger had risen and she’d started to go over to them but Trisha had
skilfully manoeuvred away from him and –much to her watching satisfaction – had
trodden on his foot in the process.
“Why
is your beautiful face frowning?” Trisha spoke against her ear.
Nikki’s
lips relaxed into a smile as she drew Trisha into her embrace. “I was missing
you, why do you think?” They moved together for a kiss and as Trisha’s perfume
assaulted her nostrils she felt the familiar stirrings of passion.
“Now,
tell me why you were really frowning,” Trisha insisted as they drew apart.
Nikki
motioned with her head. “That guy at the bar, who is he? The one who was pawing
you.”
“His
name’s Brian Gossard. He’s a DS.”
“Obviously
short for ‘dirty shit’,” Nikki quipped distastefully.
“Don’t
worry about it. I can handle his sort. You know I only have eyes for you.”
As
they laughed together, Nikki glanced across at Gossard. She felt her flesh
crawl when she saw he was watching them, his face twisted into a sneer. She
took Trisha’s hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. To her relief, the next
time she looked at the bar Gossard had disappeared.
Nikki
glanced at the dashboard clock. Where the hell was Trisha? She’d taken some of
the staff home like she did every night but when she got back Trisha was
usually waiting at the door for her. She sat in the car for a few minutes then
climbed out impatiently, stopping briefly outside the side door to light a
cigarette. As she extinguished the lighter flame she heard a muffled scream
from inside the club. She tore the cigarette from her mouth and flung it away
before crashing through the door.
She
heard another scream, the sound almost hanging in the silence. Then another,
this time her own name! Trisha! She didn’t know if she’d yelled the name out
loud or not, as she slammed against the door into the main bar.
One
fearful look took in the sickening scene. Trisha was on the floor. A figure she
recognised as Gossard was on top of her trying to hold her down. Her blouse had
been torn from her and cast aside.
“Trisha!”
She rushed forward and put her arm across Gossard’s throat, jerking his head
back. “Let go of her, you bastard!” she yelled.
Gossard
swung his left elbow back, hitting her in the midriff and winding her. She took
a step backwards, doubled-up, giving Gossard time to get to his feet. He
grabbed hold of her hair pulling her upright and held his fist in her face.
“Stay out of my way, bitch, or you’re next!”
Nikki
brought her knee savagely against his groin. He released her hair and sank to
his knees clutching himself. She dodged past him and, grabbing Trisha’s hand
dragged her to her feet. They had to get out of there! As they passed Gossard,
he grabbed hold of Nikki’s leg tripping her up. His fingers dug into her
anklebone as he held on to her.
“Call
the police, Trisha!” she said urgently as she fell.
“Nikki!”
“For
Christ’s sake, call them!” She twisted in Gossard’s grip, kicking her foot into
his face, seeing with some satisfaction the blood pour from his nose.
He
howled in pain and fury as he dragged her towards him. “You’re dead! You
fuckin’ dyke bitch!” he roared. He released her foot, grabbed hold of her
lapels with his left hand and slapped her hard across the face with his right.
Nikki
shook her head, trying to keep her brain clear. She didn’t stand a chance
against him with her bare hands.
One
hand was now on her throat and he drew back the other to take a swing at her.
She
grabbed hold of his wrist, her free hand clawing at the carpet. He was choking
the life out of her. Her fingers brushed against something. A bottle! She
reached out. Just a little further. Her fingers closed around the bottleneck
and she swung her arm at him. Too late, she realised the bottle wasn’t whole
and the jagged edges sank into his neck.
Gossard
released her, clutching at his neck. She fell back and lay watching the blood
spurt out of the wounds. Almost hypnotised, she watched the crisp white shirt
collar slowly turn crimson.
“Nikki!”
Trisha again screamed her name.
Nikki
snapped into action, her arms and feet pushing her away from Gossard just as he
pitched forward. She struggled to her feet unable to tear her eyes from the
still form. She felt Trisha fling herself into her arms. Felt the soft skin on
her naked back. Her lips were so dry. She couldn’t speak…couldn’t offer the
words of comfort Trisha so badly needed.
“Nikki!
Nikki!” Trisha’s urgent voice finally got through to her.
“Trisha!”
she said harshly. “I didn’t mean to do it. I had to stop him hurting you but I
didn’t know the bottle was broken. I didn’t mean to do it.”
“I
know you didn’t, darling. I know you didn’t,” Trisha soothed her gently.
They
stood wrapped in each other’s arms until they heard the wail of a siren
outside. Nikki drew back and took off her jacket, lovingly placing it around
Trisha’s shoulders and covering her semi-nakedness.
Two
uniformed officers ran into the bar. “Do you want to tell us what happened
here, love?” The older of the two men asked Nikki sympathetically.
“That
bastard tried to rape Trisha…Miss Johnson!” she replied angrily indicating
Gossard’s lifeless body with a jerk of her head.
The
younger of the two officers, who had been crouched down examining Gossard,
stood up, his face ashen. “I think you’d better take a look. It’s DS Gossard!”
Nikki
and Trisha were sitting on the couch in the office, supportive arms around each
other and a silent constable standing by when the door opened to admit two men.
“Miss
Wade…Miss Johnson…I’m Detective Inspector Conrad and this is Detective Sergeant
Peters.” The speaker was a short thin man in his early fifties with gaunt
features and thinning grey hair. The man accompanying him was a good head and shoulders
taller and at least twenty years younger.
Conrad
picked up two chairs and positioned them in front of the desk. “Ladies.” He gave a faint smile as he
indicated the chairs.
Nikki
started to rise but Trisha gripped hold of her hand and drew her back. Nikki
smiled at her and fleetingly ran the backs of her fingers down her cheek.
“Everything’s going to be OK. Come on.”
As
they moved across to the chairs, Trisha drew Nikki’s jacket tightly round her,
taking comfort from the scent of her partner on the garment.
Conrad
waited until they were seated then moved around to the back of the desk and
took the seat usually occupied by one of the two women. “Miss Wade?” Conrad
looked at Nikki for confirmation, receiving a brisk nod in response. “Or do you
prefer ‘Ms’?” he asked with a sarcastic smile.
Nikki
gave a bitter laugh. “Does it really matter, Inspector? Look, can we get this
over with? Miss Johnson is in shock and needs to see a doctor.”
“Don’t
you need to see a doctor too, Miss Wade?” Conrad demanded superciliously.
Nikki
touched the cheek Gossard had slapped. “It’s nothing. Just a bruise.”
“I’m
not talking about your physical injuries, Miss Wade!” the inspector exclaimed.
“Aren’t you in shock too or don’t you find killing a man in cold blood
shocking!”
“Now,
wait a minute…!”
“Are
you saying you didn’t kill him in cold blood?”
“Of
course I didn’t!” Nikki retorted. “He was trying to rape Trisha!” She heard
Trisha’s sudden intake of breath beside her and looked anxiously at her
partner. She reached out and gripped her hand comfortingly.
“No
touching!” Peters, who had been hovering in the background until now, snarled.
“What
the bloody hell do you think we’re doing? Hand signals?” Nikki retorted
sarcastically.
Peters
leant in front of her, their faces only inches apart. “I said, ‘no touching’!”
“OK,
keep your shirt on!” Nikki concurred as she released Trisha’s hand.
“You
should have told your girlfriend to do that,” he replied giving Trisha a
lascivious glance.
“Why
you...!” Nikki started to rise but Peters’ fingers dug into her shoulder.
“Sit
down!”
“That’s
enough, Matt!” Conrad told his colleague warningly. He gave Trisha a comforting
smile but Nikki could see his eyes told a whole different story. “Do you want
to tell us what happened, Miss Johnson?”
“What’s
this? Good cop…bad cop?” Nikki snapped.
Conrad
turned and looked at her. “You can have your say in a moment, Miss Wade.” He
turned back Trisha. “Miss Johnson.”
Trisha
glanced at Nikki before starting to slowly speak. “I was waiting for Nikki to
come back and Brian Gossard came into the bar. We started to talk and then he
turned nasty. He said things…disgusting things…about Nikki and me. He said, if
I got myself a proper man I wouldn’t look at her twice. When I asked him to
leave he grabbed hold of me and tried to…tried to…”
“It’s
OK, darling. Tell him what happened,” Nikki said encouragingly.
Trisha
smiled at her tearfully as she continued hesitantly. “Then Nikki came back. She
pulled him off me and he started hitting her. She picked up the bottle and…”
“And…?”
Conrad coaxed.
“She
tried to hit him with it but it stuck in his neck.” She looked pleadingly at
Conrad. “But she didn’t mean to kill him! It was an accident! You’ve got…!”
Conrad
cut short her protestations. “Alright, Miss Johnson, thank you.” He turned to
Nikki. “I think you’d better get a solicitor to meet you at the station, Miss
Wade. You’re in serious trouble.”
Nikki’s
head jerked up. “In serious trouble?” she repeated almost stupidly. “But it was
an accident.”
Conrad
raised disbelieving eyebrows. “So you keep saying.”
They
were in an interview room at the station. Charles Preston, her solicitor, was
now sitting beside her instead of Trisha. She was almost frantic. She didn’t
know where Trisha was or what they were making her say. Conrad and Peters were
sitting opposite her. “Trisha…Miss Johnson, is she alright?”
“Your
concern does you justice, Miss Wade,” Conrad replied coldly. “It’s a pity you
don’t have the same concern for Detective Sergeant Gossard.”
“Gossard
was a pig, in all senses of the word!”
“Nikki!” Charles said warningly.
“Well,
do they expect me to be sorry that a raping bastard is dead?” she exclaimed.
“He deserved to be stuck like a pig!”
Conrad
looked on smugly. Keep going, Wade, he thought. Dig the hole a little bit
deeper! “So you think Detective Sergeant Gossard deserved to die?”
“As
you can understand, Detective Inspector,” Charles interrupted swiftly. “My
client is overwrought.”
“And
how do you think Mrs Gossard is going to feel when she finds out her husband
won’t be going home tonight?” Conrad asked as he stared Nikki straight in the
eye. “That he won’t ever be going home again?”
Nikki
returned his stare. “Relieved, I would have thought,” she replied bluntly.
“You’re
a fuckin’, murderin’ dyke, do you know that, Wade?” Peters sneered. “Brian
Gossard has…had three kids.”
“He
wasn’t thinking about his kids when he tried to rape my girlfriend!” Nikki
retorted angrily.
“Shut
it, Wade!” Peters ordered. “Brian Gossard didn’t try to rape anyone.”
Nikki
leaned slightly across the desk. “What’s wrong?” she hissed. “Does the truth
hurt or isn’t Gossard the only bent bastard in the force?”
Peters
grabbed hold of her hair and yanked her sideways. “I said, shut your filthy
trap, Wade!”
“Let
her go, Matt!” Conrad ordered. He stood up. “Nicola Wade, I am arresting you on
suspicion of murder. You do not have to say anything, but it may…”
“What
the fucking hell are you doing?” Nikki cried incredulously. She ran her hands
through her hair.
“This
can’t be happening. For Christ’s sake, I didn’t murder him! Please, you’ve got
to believe me! We struggled and he tried to kill me! The bottle was an
accident!”
The
look on Conrad’s face told Nikki he didn’t believe a word of her story and
neither would the judge and jury!