Phyllis: Part Twenty-Two

~ beetleypete

This is the twenty-second part of a fiction serial, in 772 words.

Alan, now exposed as John Digby, looked mortified. He must have known from Terence’s address that he must be Phyllis. The times he had lusted after him, believing him to be a woman, the passionate kisses leaving him wanting more. Now Phyllis was sitting in front of him as a man, accused of sexual assault on a minor. If he said anything, Digby’s career would be over, as would his marriage, family, and reputation. Digby appeared to be trembling a little, and his face was incredibly pale.

But Terence didn’t say a word about the intimate moments in Nottingham, or at New You in Horncastle. He stuck to Rosa’s advice, and answered “No comment” to every question. When the two detectives concluded the interview and switched off the tape, John Digby looked extremely relieved. Before he was taken back to his cell in the custody block, Rosa had a brief chat with him.

“They don’t seem to have anything concrete. Just a he said/you said statement, with the fourteen year old giving a fairly accurate description of your flat. But since you moved out, there have been two other tenants, and nothing the boy said can be proved now, unless they had photos from the time. Which they don’t. There is obviously no DNA evidence, or they would have hit you with that. The best they have is that the boy said you asked him to come to your flat, made him dress as a woman, then performed a sex act on him. To be honest, it’s weak. No independent witnesses, no physical evidence. They have twenty-four hours to charge you or let you go, and I’m betting that Detective Inspector will not even be taking the case to the Crown Prosecution Service. I’m going to go home now, but ring me if they want to interview you again. I will send my bill in due course”.

Terence wasn’t too concerned as he sat in his cell waiting for the outcome. Rosa seemed to know her stuff, and he was sure she would be able to get him off if it went to court. But the ace in the hole was Alan. If he went ahead with any charges, Terence would crucify him. Get the case thrown out because of his personal connection. Grass him up totally, and even get witnesses like ‘Diane’ from New You to confirm that ‘Alan’ was always around, dressed up and lustful.

He half-expected Digby to appear in his cell, maybe try to find out what he intended to say, perhaps even rough him up out of anger. But to do that he would have to walk past the Custody Sergeant and his team, then justify why he was wanting to talk to a prisoner alone. So he sat quietly, thinking about Clive. He couldn’t blame him for trying to take revenge, but he had gone about it quite clumsily.

Once this got sorted out, Terence would make sure that the Nottingham newspapers and the business community knew about Clive’s perversions. It would have to be anonymous of course, but as everyone knows, mud sticks. Besides, he still had the photos and DVD films. They would sink him.

Less than an hour later, the detective who had asked the questions opened the cell door. He didn’t seem at all happy.

“You are free to go, follow me”. At the desk of the Custody Sergeant, his personal possessions were returned, and he had to sign for them. Then the sergeant pointed at the exit. Terence was on the verge of asking for a lift back to New You, but decided not to push his luck.

It was a long walk back into the part of the city where he could find a taxi on a rank, but on the way he left a message on Rosa’s answerphone, telling her he had not been charged and would happily pay her bill.

Back in his room that evening, he reflected on the day. It could have gone so badly, but it hadn’t. He saw that as a sign. Next month, he would start working on rolling out the franchise model for New You. But not until he had made copies of all the photos and DVDs that Clive starred in, and sent them to anyone who might be interested. He would drive over to Grantham to post them, just to put anyone off the scent of his real location.

Then he heated up a microwave lasagna, opened a botle of cheap Chianti, and sat relaxing.

When the doorbell went at almost ten at night, he checked the camera.

It was Alan.

31 thoughts on “Phyllis: Part Twenty-Two”

  7. (1) John’s wife, Eleanor Digby, lives in a dream, wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door. Who is it for?
    (2) When a he said/she said statement is uttered by the same person…
    (3) I was once hit with DNA evidence. It caused a mild concussion. Ever since then, I’ve worn a biker’s helmet.
    (4) Terence sat in his jail cell thinking about Clumsy Clive. (Auguste Rodin would have advised him to do this in the nude.)
    (5) Mud sticks. But it’s quicksand that will sink you.
    (6) Skunks have a disadvantage. It’s hard for them to put hunters off the scent of their real location.
    (7) Overheard:
    Terence: “Who’s there, John or Alan?”
    John. “Alan. Who’s going to open the door for me, Terence or Phyllis?”
    Terence: “Phyllis.”

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  8. Hmm..Terrence got off too easy..if it’s too good to be true… But Allan is showing up to get more than a snog this time. Mutually Assured Destruction..what better way to commence a wonderful affair? 😜

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    1. He should never have been arrested, he should have been asked to come in and make a statement about the allegations. They presumably expectd him to confess, as they had no other evidence except the say-so of a young man. Digby’s boss made the wrong decision by issuing a warrant, as the CPS would never charge on such little evidence. There was no alternative but to let him go.
      That will be explained in the next part, Nigel.
      Best wishes, Pete.

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