Hidden Killers. Lynda La plante
assailant groped and squeezed at her right breast with his left hand and started to drag her backwards towards the covered entrance of the Lido. Jane struggled to break free and desperately tried to look over her shoulder towards where she had last seen the obo van. She attempted to scream, but the leather-gloved hand tightened around her mouth. A man’s voice whispered harshly in her ear.
‘I’ve got a knife . . . so keep your mouth shut, you fucking thieving whore . . . or I’ll cut your throat wide open this time.’
Jane nodded vigorously to indicate that she understood, and the leather-gloved hand relaxed its pressure slightly. Jane then realized that he couldn’t be holding a knife as there was one hand over her mouth and the other was groping her breast. Her instinct took over and she opened her mouth wide and bit down as hard as she could on the gloved hand. As the assailant released his grip Jane screamed loudly and spun around quickly to confront her attacker. The man had a stocking over his head, making him unrecognizable, and he was wearing a black roll-neck sweater and black trousers. Jane understood exactly what he was intending to do to her when she saw his erect penis sticking out of his unzipped trousers.
In an instant Jane kicked her attacker hard in the groin. She pulled the truncheon free from inside her sleeve and hit him on the side of the head with all her strength, knocking him to the ground. The force of the impact against his skull made her lose her grip on the truncheon, causing it to fly out of her hand and onto the grass a few feet away.
Enraged, the assailant was growling and moving slowly. Like a bear about to make its final move on its prey he gradually stood up, the growling getting louder and louder as spittle foamed through the stocking mask. Jane managed to retrieve the radio mic, and pressing the transmitter screamed, ‘Urgent Assistance!’ and yelled at the top of her voice that she was a police officer. The attacker, as if confused by the revelation, froze momentarily before turning to run. Jane lunged at him, grabbing his right shoulder from behind. In his desperate effort to escape, the assailant elbowed her in the mouth causing her lip to split and bleed. He started to run, and although Jane was determined to give chase she knew she’d never be able to catch him in the boots she was wearing.
Suddenly she saw DI Moran and DC Edwards running at speed towards the assailant and together they tackled him hard from behind, knocking him heavily to the ground. As he tried to get up Moran pulled his head back by his hair and smashed his face down onto the pathway, causing his nose to split and bleed profusely. The two detectives then pinned him to the ground, pulled his hands behind his back and DC Edwards handcuffed him.
Jane felt a mixture of fear and relief as she heard the two-tone sirens of the police cars making their way to the Fields. Moran spoke into his portable radio.
‘All units from Gold, stand down. Suspect has been arrested and WPC Tennison is safe and well. We only require a uniform van for the prisoner to be taken to Golf Hotel.’
‘You were supposed to be covering my back! Where the hell were you?’ Jane shouted.
Moran calmed her down, explaining that their view from the obo van had become partially blocked as Jane had passed between some large trees.
‘It wasn’t until we heard you scream that we realized something was wrong. I mean, where on earth did he come from? It’s as if he appeared from nowhere.’
Jane’s hand was trembling as she pointed to the chestnut tree. ‘Up there . . . he must have been up there, and jumped down. He grabbed me from behind, covered my mouth with his hand and said he’d cut my throat if I screamed. I couldn’t get to the radio transmitter or shout for help until I bit him and he let me go.’
The attacker now started shouting that he’d done nothing wrong, earning him a well-aimed kick in the side of his ribs from DI Moran. He pulled the stocking up off his head revealing a man in his early thirties, clean shaven and with neatly cut hair.
Moran looked at Jane as he put the stocking in a plastic bag. ‘He’s your arrest, Tennison, so go ahead and caution him.’
Jane licked at her split lip, tasting the blood as she spoke. ‘I’m arresting you for an indecent and serious assault on a police officer. You do not have to say anything unless you wish to do so, but what you say may be given in evidence.’
‘I’ve done fuck all! That bitch suddenly attacked me and started screaming . . . Look at my head!’
Moran gave him another kick in the ribs to silence him. He pulled the attacker up from the floor and noticed with disgust that the man’s now flaccid penis was hanging out of his trousers. He glanced at Jane who glared straight back at him. By now her fear had been replaced by the buzz of adrenalin from making an arrest.
‘Don’t look at me – I’m not putting that thing back in his trousers!’
Moran laughed, surprised by her ability to make a joke after what she had been subjected to. DC Edwards roughly zipped up the assailant’s fly, and hauled him away screeching in agony.
The prisoner was placed in the back of the police van, flanked by two officers and with DC Edwards sitting opposite him. DI Moran drove Jane back to the station in the obo van, and asked her to go over everything that happened and what her assailant had said.
She was still energized as she repeated how she had been attacked from behind and how he had threatened to cut her throat.
‘I bit down on his hand as hard as I could so he released his hold.’
‘Good girl . . . sorry you had to go through that, but you did well. Are you all right?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Her heart was beating rapidly and she suddenly felt unable to stop shaking. Taking a few deep breaths she managed to calm herself down, forcing back the feelings of fear. In some ways she was more concerned that DI Moran might notice she had been panic stricken.
He had noticed and gave her a sidelong glance. As he concentrated on the road ahead he spoke quietly.
‘You know, at some stage in our careers we’ve all had the guts kicked out of us. I don’t mean literally of course . . . but once you’ve had to face that fear and been able to deal with it, the next time isn’t nearly as bad. It’s not just the adrenalin rush that helps you get through something like tonight, but the satisfaction that you caught the bastard.’
Jane had not expected Moran to be so understanding. She smiled bravely and even attempted to make a joke.
‘You been dressed up as a Tom to make an arrest, have you, sir?’
He chuckled, shaking his head.
‘I never put a bad guy away that didn’t deserve it, that’s all you’ve got to know about me, Tennison.’
Back at the station Jane asked to be excused so she could sort out her split lip. Moran nodded, instructing DC Edwards to find the duty officer. Jane went to the ladies’, then after washing her hands she inspected her cut lip in the mirror. It wasn’t as swollen as she thought it would be, but she knew it would take at least a week or so before it healed. That meant not visiting her parents for a while. She put on some makeup and lipstick to conceal the cut, and thought about what Moran had said to her. She was more confident that she had handled the situation well under extreme pressure, but there had been a moment when she had really feared for her life. When the stocking had been removed from her attacker’s head she had been surprised to see that he was actually quite a good-looking man, and not the ugly, vicious person she had envisaged.
Jane thought about taking off her wig, but decided against it as it made her feel even more like an undercover officer working with the CID.
As she stared at herself in the mirror above the cracked washbasin, it triggered another memory. She was in the washroom standing by Kath Morgan as she was getting ready to go on her first plain-clothed assignment; she had been so excited and eager to catch a burglar robbing old-age pensioners. Kath had been such a feisty woman, not afraid of anyone or anything, and regaled everyone by describing how she had brought the scrote burglar down with a rugby tackle. She had been laughing in the