Chapter 29

There was a sense of isolation. To all three policewomen, the Flemington Police Station now felt as if it were in the middle of nowhere – no longer a mere four hundred metres from the busy thoroughfare of Racecourse Road, but seemingly miles from anywhere. If anything, the last two weeks had been wild.

And, all three of the ‘General Duties’ policewomen couldn’t help but feel the isolation.

Was it the locked front door...?

Locked back door?

Or, was it because they were all alone with Lady Rhonda Hamilton-Baillieu...?

They were being careful. The building was secure. And, the ‘Women Police’ were gone, as were the ‘Criminal Investigation Branch’ – Senior Sergeant Barry McKnight was probably holding Court at the ‘Doutta Galla’ Hotel with Senior Constable ‘Wild Bill’ O’Donoghue, and whilst there was free alcohol, none of the male colleagues were likely to interrupt what the policewomen were doing with ‘The Cunt’ and Rebecca ‘Becky’ Campbell. Nor would Inspector Maree D’Constanzo either. The ‘Duty Officer’ had her own problems to deal with at the Brunswick Police Station...

‘Probationary’ Constable Deirdre ‘Dash’ McKinley acted as barista and waitress. That was the price, the young brunette would have to pay for asking they aid of Lady Rhonda ‘The Cunt’ Hamilton-Baillieu.

Weeks of working alone in the Watchouse, meant that ‘Probationary’ Constable Kelly O’Rourke knew her way around the Flemington Police Station far more intimately than her two new colleagues – she’d accessed the ‘Criminal Investigation Branch’ Office upstairs with Cassandra Nicholson’s key. And so, she now had the file on ‘The Cunt’ for them all to peruse. Seated at the Watchousekeeper’s desk, she could keep an eye on both the front door and the Female Cells. ‘Mistress Rebecca’ had been called.

The kinky ‘Madam’ of the ‘Fantasia’ Massage Parlour was on her way.

Kelly Maree O’Rourke had unlocked the cell door. It was another risk.

Lady Rhonda Hamilton-Baillieu had promised not to try to escape – it would’ve been rather pointless, and ‘The Cunt’ knew it. Intrigued by the fact that the fresh-faced young blonde policewomen seemed far more in control than the older ‘Probationary’ Constable Susie Raynor, the aristocratic Socialite was content to just ‘pleasure’ Suzanne Elizabeth Raynor on the bunk in the Female Cells for the time being,

They were taking a chance. A telephone call. A simple radio call from Communications D24. And, Kelly and Susie would have to leave Deirdre with ‘The Cunt’ – Deirdre Elaine McKinley nonetheless, was confident that it would remain quiet for the rest of the Afternoon Shift. Kelly Maree O’Rourke too, thought that they would not be disturbed. Susie could not have cared less at that very moment in time,

“I don’t know what you expect to find...?”

Kelly and Deirdre had only been members of the Victoria Police for eighteen months or so.

Neither at the Russell Street ‘Women Police’ Division, Melbourne District ‘Traffic & Patrol’ Division nor the ‘Police Training Academy’ at Glen Waverley, had they ever had to deal with the file in front of them,

“I admit,” whispered Kelly, “That it looks very circumstantial, Deirdre?”

The young brunette shrugged. Instinctively though, she still felt ‘The Cunt’ was innocent...

“Do you really think, Kelly...?”

Deirdre paused. She glanced back through the doorway at ‘The Cunt’ with Susie,

“That she’s really a ‘Drug Dealer’ huh...?”

“Rebecca’s a ‘Pimp’...?” responded Kelly – they’d already discussed Rebecca ‘Becky’ Campbell and Lady Rhonda Hamilton-Baillieu attending the exclusive Melbourne Girls’ Grammar in South Yarra,

“You know as well as I do,” Deirdre answered, “That she’s just an entrepreneur dealing in pleasure?”

“Is that what you call it...?”

“What harm is she doing anyway?” Deirdre asked. Kelly shrugged – she looked back over Deirdre’s shoulder at the locked front door...

“It’s not ‘Mistress Rebecca’ we’re concerned with at the moment, is it, Deirdre?” she reminded the brunette – both policewomen wished that Sergeant Tess Gallagher was with them. She would’ve known what to do. But, she would have probably stopped them doing anything about ‘The Cunt’...

“If she’s done something wrong, she deserves to be prosecuted...?” Kelly whispered. Deirdre nodded.

“Oh, I have no doubt ‘The Cunt’ has done the wrong thing in her life...?”

Deirdre tugged at the sleeve of her uniform shirt. Kelly savoured a mouthful of coffee.

“I just don’t think, she’d broken the law in this instant, Kelly?” Deirdre assured her colleague.

‘Probationary’ Constable Kelly O’Rourke couldn’t help but feel that ‘Probationary’ Constable Deirdre ‘Dash’ McKinley was right – she didn’t know what of course, but there was something wrong about what was happening to Lady Rhonda Hamilton-Baillieu...

“We don’t have long...?”

“N-No...”

Rebecca hesitated.

Alone in Shields Street, ‘Mistress Rebecca’ stood at the kerb. She had seen nobody in either Norwood Crescent or Wellington Street. Most of the houses were deserted. Or, so it seemed – hidden behind vegetation or stark brick walls. And, it was quiet. Rather surprisingly quiet. But, that suited her.

Pausing, the ‘Madam’ took a moment to admire her reflection in the one clean window of the nearby nondescript corrugated-iron building. She liked what she saw...

“I think,” she observed in a whisper, “I’ll keep this uniform for myself?”

Rebecca ‘Becky’ Campbell was in uniform. An authentic Victoria Police female uniform that she’d obtained from ‘Probationary’ Constable Kelly O’Rourke and Sandra ‘The Countess’ Murdoch,

“It may prove useful...?”

A short-sleeved policewoman’s pale-blue uniform shirt. Issue nametag proclaiming ‘Emmanuelle Robertson – Senior Constable’ – a nom de plume she had created for just such an occasion.

A tight dark-blue uniform skirt with matching stockings. Not quite regulation.