Chapter 3

Rosie hesitated. Still holding onto the policewoman’s arm as they stood at the counter with Rebecca, Savannah began to carefully trace the woven ‘Victoria Police’ patch on Rosie’s shirtsleeve with the tip of her finger – Senior Constable ‘Rosie’ Egan knew that it was wrong. But, she couldn’t stop herself...

“Seems, this ‘cunt’ is ripe for the picking?” observed the Manageress – Rosie responded with a sigh.

She seemed to be watching herself. What had been a routine ‘investigation’ was now something far more salacious – Rosemary ‘Rosie’ Egan closed her eyes. Savannah began to lick at the patch,

“Tom Croydon sent you, didn’t he...?” Rebecca queried. Rosie nodded without speaking.

Maggie had warned her about ‘The Paragon’ Café, as had her new ‘Officer in Charge’ – ‘Probationary’ Constable Deirdre ‘Dash’ McKinley had even told her of the bed in the rear storeroom. Deirdre Elaine McKinley...? Rosie groaned. The nineteen year old brunette was the only real ‘Local’ at the Mount Thomas Police Station. And perhaps, she was probably the most indiscreet of all the policewomen...?

Senior Constable Lindy Schroeder, Constable Rochelle de la Rue and Senior Sergeant Monica Draper had all mentioned ‘Dash’ too. But, it was too late to worry about her young colleague now, and Rosie knew it. Constable Maggie Doyle could be trusted to say nothing. The young blonde however, was now on Leave – what would ‘Dash’ say if she ever learnt of what had happened at ‘The Paragon’ with the two former prostitutes and Rosie...? It no longer really matter.

Rosemary Eloise Egan found herself lost in the moment.

Had it been the Divorce...?

The sudden ‘secondment’ to Mount Thomas too?

Senior Sergeant Tom Croydon – he had certainly done little to make her feel welcome?

Or, was it something else? She had seen Maggie and ‘Dish’ share a moment of intimacy in the Female Cells – her two younger colleagues kissing. And then, there had been Cheyenne. Rosie had been ‘fucked’ almost senseless by the kinky ‘Real Estate’ Agent only a week earlier. Funnily enough though, she felt no jealous when she’d seen Cheyenne kissing the Matron...?

With her free hand, Savannah took the glass of Johnny Walker. Smiling seductively, she offered it to Rosie – the policewoman obediently drank it as Savannah held the glass. Her uniform shirt now unbuttoned almost to her waist, Rosie felt the liquid warm her inside as she swallowed the Scotch...

“Y-Yes...” she confirmed finally. Tom Croydon had sent her.

It was pointless to deny it.

“Cocaine...?” Rosie continued – Savannah placed the empty glass on the counter.

The aroma of freshly-percolated coffee assailed the policewoman,

“There was a complaint, S-Savannah?” added Rosie...

“ ... anonymous of course, Mistress Rebecca – Savannah’s dealing Coke in here?”

Rosie could scarcely believe what she was saying – it felt as if she had lost all control. And to a certain extent, she had. She knew instinctively, that Savannah was not dealing cocaine. Maggie would never have countenanced that, though she wasn’t so sure about ‘Dash’...?

From everything she had been told, Rosie believed that both Savannah and Rebecca were simply living their lives. They were no longer prostitutes. No longer criminals per se. And whilst, lesbianism was still illegal in Victoria, the Victoria Police had for some time begrudgingly tolerated it. Maggie and ‘Dash’ had turned a ‘blind eye’ to ‘The Paragon’ Café, so why shouldn’t Rosie...?