Free This Honourable House by Edwina Currie

performance motor that Stevens himself had recommended. Two others were parked in a far corner. The inspector saw, with a nasty lurch in his stomach, that all three cars were resting tidily on their axles.
    ‘Fucking nicked the wheels, haven’t they?’ The constable waved his arms in impotent fury. ‘Cheeky buggers!’ Stevens withdrew his head and pulled down the window. ‘Fulda High Performance – two hundred quid apiece for the rubber alone,’ he muttered gruffly to himself. ‘No wonder the budget’s gone through the roof.’
    A knock came on the door. The desk sergeant peered tentatively round. ‘Sorry to bother you. Don’t worry about that racket outside. We’ll sort it. They haven’t touched your vehicle, sir. This is something else. There’s a lady here, insists on seeing the most senior officer. Won’t deal with me or anybody else.’
    Stevens sighed. ‘Bloody ’ell. You sure? Try your charm on her, Ron. I’ve got reports to do. I can’t spend my time listening to moans about the neighbour’s cat.’
    ‘We’ve tried. It isn’t a neighbour complaint. At least, I don’t think so. She’s a name.’
    ‘A name?’
    ‘Yeah.’ The sergeant grinned. ‘A VIP, you could say. Anyway, I’ve other members of ouresteemed public queuing downstairs at my desk. Plus some wheels to order. Shall I show her in?’
     
    Gail twitched her skirt about her knees and tried to sit up straight. She was familiar with police stations. Years ago, newly wed, she had hung around in the canteen of more than one, waiting for Frank to go off duty. If she stayed at home he would disappear with his mates or informants for a quick pint that would turn into three hours’ drinking. The dinner would be burned and her pride with it. Eventually, however, Frank had pointed out testily that she was in danger of making a fool of him. Nobody else’s missus played wallflower like that. It was undignified. With a few tears she had accepted her fate and stayed in, becoming an expert at speedy meals. The sense of isolation that had resulted was similar to her feelings now.
    ‘I’ve come to report an offence,’ she blurted out. The envelope was in her hands, wrapped crudely in a plastic carrier-bag. ‘Careful. There could be fingerprints on it.’
    Stevens glanced at her, surprised. He withdrew his hands, then pressed a bell under the desk. ‘Then we’d better have it examined properly, Mrs Bridges. Whatever it is.’
    The sergeant entered, listened to Stevens’ whisper, disappeared and returned with a packet of surgical gloves. The inspector sat back as the sergeant donned the gloves and gingerly shook the bag’s contents out on to the desk.
    ‘See!’ exclaimed Gail. She felt herself go white and bit her lip to get a grip on herself.
    ‘What have we here?’ Stevens whistled under his breath. He used a pencil to poke at the razor blades, turning over the drawing and the letter. He studied the items for a long moment, then put down the pencil and pressed his fingertips together. ‘Now, Mrs Bridges, weren’t you on television a few days ago? Our civilian clerk said she’d seen you. And I caught a few clips on the news. You’ve been having problems, haven’t you?’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ said Gail eagerly. ‘I’ve been having a terrible time. I don’t think anyone appreciates it. You can’t know how it feels, to be publicly humiliated like that. Told in public that I’m to be discarded, like an old coat. Replaced by a newer model. As if he could keep up with her – thinks he’s a new man himself, I dare say. She’ll find out, she will. Won’t take long. After everything I’ve done for him, all those years when he left me alone in the evenings …’
    The two men sat impassive. Her voice trailed away and she fidgeted with her handbag. ‘Sorry. It gets me. You only want to know about the package.’
    Stevens nodded. Gail described its delivery and her horrified reaction. ‘I didn’t hesitate. I knew you’d need to see