The Decoy

[Ambush-predator]

Decoy Duck, Tethered Goat, Pig-sticking - all these and more in this story of the hunt for a rapist! First just a taster to set the scene and get those taste-buds working:


“O.K., troops?” The assembled officers knew that although Chief Inspector Glendenning’s voice rose at the end as if asking a question, he was not asking them anything. He was saying, “Shut up and listen”.

Subject: the Tonford Heath rapist.” He paused for effect. “Catching the Tonford Heath rapist. Sylvie?”

A Glendenning briefing was traditional. A briefing by Inspector Sylvie Mackay, though, was likely to involve a powerpoint. Unlike most, though, she never seemed to start her powerpoint presentations by struggling to get the laptop working. Curvy but stern-faced, the blonde high-riser stared at the officers waiting on her word.

“This is the picture: five rapes and at least one attempted rape over nine months, the first two in Kelverley Park which of course is in Mason Street’s manor. Then the perpetrator moved on to Tonford Heath and committed two attacks on the Heath, one in a garden abutting the Heath and one in the car-park of a closed-down pub two miles away but on a road leading to the Heath. The CI will fill you in on the measures we’ve already taken. I’m here to analyse the information given by the victims on the attacker, his modus operandi, locations and characteristics of the victims.

Last things first – the victims. The youngest was eighteen and the oldest thirty-one. All female, of course, good-looking, fit and all alone at the time of the attack unless you count the dog. Five of the victims were white and the sixth called herself ‘dual heritage’ – African Caribbean mother and white Canadian father, skin fairly pale. Two genuine blondes, one bottle blonde, one brunette and two dark-haired including the mixed heritage one.” The display was showing photos of the victims and rearranging them into groups. “Now I don’t claim to be an expert on what men find a turn-on in women...” (there was a hint of a laugh somewhere)...”but four of them had large breasts and none of them were what you could call flat-chested. None of them were flat-bottomed either.” At that point somewhere there definitely was a snigger, but a little disturbance in the audience showed others disapproved and the sniggerer was Dave Crompton or Gary Brown. “My analysis shows no particular trends by height, colour of clothes or anything else.

As for the attacker, it’s definite that he’s an IC3 male, tall, well-built and strong. Estimates of his age vary from a lower extreme of nineteen to a higher extreme of twenty-nine, so much the same age range as his victims. Most thought he was in his mid-twenties. One victim thought he had an East Anglian accent, but most thought London, maybe West London. No hint of African or Caribbean. Some remarked on his wide face and large eyes – also not much neck. This is the photofit.” Even the two Black officers thought it looked pretty much like the average white person’s idea of a young Black man, unless that idea included dreadlocks.

Now – location. As you know, Tonford Heath has woodland, lots of paths and lots of bushes. It’s well used but rarely crowded. It seems that the rapist has fixed on it as an ideal location after Kelverley Park became too hot for him. It’s likely that the two incidents outside the Heath were opportunistic. He keeps coming back to the Heath. We’ve examined reports of other sexual attacks within a fifty mile radius and it’s my judgement that he’s not operating anywhere else. Times vary, but four of the six incidents (including the Kelverley Park ones) occurred in the two hours before dusk. No pattern about the days chosen. Cathy?”

The tall young redhead smiled nervously.
“Could that mean he works daytime including some weekends, but has evenings off?” she asked.
“Unlikely, since dusk has varied during the period by, oh, five hours? In any case, profiling is not today’s job. Now – modus operandi. He has ambushed one, but mostly he’s walking around, face partly obscured, for example by a rain hood. He asks the victim something – the time, the way to one of the entrances, whether she’s seen a small white dog – and then grabs her and drags her out of sight. He hits her two or three times, more to intimidate than to do serious injury. He sometimes gags her with masking tape, sometimes not, and then rapes her, whether she struggles or not. He hasn’t used a knife and he doesn’t threaten them to stop them resisting, so it’s likely he enjoys defeating their struggles. However, on the one occasion his attempt failed because he was interrupted by three male joggers, he showed them what appeared to be a knife to keep them back before he legged it. Rape is always both vaginal and anal. In two cases it was also oral, probably when he can confident the victim was intimidated. Finally if they’re still moving he secures their ankles with the tape, spits on them and leaves without a word. Sir?”

Glendenning took over again.

After the first two attacks, Mason Street flooded the area and did stop and search on anyone who roughly fitted the description. They did find one suspect, a strongly-built young IC3 male, carrying masking tape, but he turned out to be a jobbing plumber and moreover he’d been in Greece at the time of the first attack. Since they were stopping dozens of IC3s, they got warned they were damaging community relations, so they just stepped up patrols. Seems our friend decided to move on. If we’re too obvious, he’ll move on from Tonford Heath too. I’d rather we caught him. So this is what we’re going to do.” Attention sharpened. Here it came.

“Instead of clumping around stopping every young male IC3, or even hiding behind bushes with our arses sticking out as an invitation to shirtlifters, we’re going to put out decoys,” he announced. This had most effect on the young female officers, who looked excited or frightened. “Naturally this is an occasion when we can discriminate on grounds of sex, age and physical attributes. No flat-chested fiftyish blokes.” Most of the officers laughed. “The following are detailed to decoy duty...” At this point the hush was dramatic.

“...Sergeant Waller, DC Appleyard, PC De la Rue, DC Frampton, PC Lindsay, PC Pope, PC White, PC Wisniewski. We’re timetabling coverage for four evenings and on each occasion we’ll have six decoys out and two resting. Lindsay and White rest on day 1, Waller and Wisniewski on day 2, De la Rue and Pope on day 3 and I trust you can work out who gets a rest on day 4. Clear so far?” No-one spoke.

“Dress is up to you, but make yourselves attractive, right? Short skirts, tight jeans, tight top with no bra, that sort of stuff, you know the routine.” Again, this had mixed reactions among the women – but the men seemed to approve. “You’ll all be issued with silent alarms which will sound in our operations centre and we’ll be able to pinpoint your position as soon as the alarm sounds. We’ll have uniformed officers in the scout hut, behind the cafe and in vehicles at all five entry points. All we expect from you decoys is to walk about alone or maybe jog a bit and then walk, to look preoccupied (I-pod, phone, whatever), to look sexy and to stay alert. Above all, don’t sound the alarm on suspicion. Wait till the bastard attacks you. Struggle then, and if you can subdue him, wonderful, but remember he’s strong and although he doesn’t like to use a knife, he probably does carry one. Inspector Mackay and I will be in charge of the operation. Sergeant Patterson, PC Wilkins and PC Rees will be the nerve-centre, waiting for alarms, tracking and transmitting messages.” He went on to other details, times, locations and arrangements for start and finish.

Cathy Lindsay exchanged raised-eyebrows glances and nervous smiles with Julie De la Rue.

“Well – we’re both tiger bait!” she said.

“Yeah. Is it fun, or what? No, it’s a job to do professionally. Actually, he called us decoys, but tiger bait is nearer. Decoy ducks lure real ducks down to join them, not to pounce on them. We’re tethered goats for the tiger – or the pussycat!” Julie looked determined.

“It’s a bit scary, I admit, but it’s an honour. I almost hope he does go for me so I can get him,” Cathy said. “What about you?”

“He won’t go for me. He wants white stuff. I know that kind of guy. He probably thought that coffee-with-milk coloured girl was more or less white,” Julie stated. Cathy could see her point, but could also see why Glendenning had selected her Black friend. Her breasts were downright extravagant and if she hadn’t been blessed or cursed with big, protuberant buttocks, she’d have tended to fall over frontwards.

“Well, um, you might have some attractions for him,” Cathy said diplomatically.

“Big tits, big bum, you mean?” her friend replied. Cathy did not respond, except to say,

“Anyway, I’m probably too willowy for him.”

“Don’t count on it! I wouldn’t call you willowy, just leggy and athletic.” Cathy smiled.

“Actually, I hope you’re right. We’ve got to catch this monster and stop him harming other women. I’m really excited I might have the chance to do it. It’d be an honour.”

“Just remember it’s a team effort and don’t forget your alarm, Cathy.”

“We’ll sort him, won’t we, Jules?” The two young women play-punched and high-fived.

Except for their youth and fitness, they could not have looked more different, and yet they both knew they had a lot in common. Both had stayed on into higher education. Both had artistic interests. Both had pretty liberal opinions for the police. Both were handworking and intelligent. Both hated men who used their physical strength and ruthlessness to dominate women. It was not surprising that they were the best of friends.

Inspector Sylvie Mackay left the meeting confident that their plan was well-devised and much more likely to succeed than Mason Street’s clumsy tactics. Of course, nothing could ensure success, but she was sure if they failed to catch the offender, it would not be their fault.

There was just one thing that worried her a bit, in fact made her feel slightly guilty. Being only 29, with a fine figure and blonde hair, she would have qualified easily to be one of the decoys. Although the serious risks to each one of the decoys were quite small, it was entirely possible one might get hurt in a struggle, and of course, there was the underlying fear of the man succeeding in a serious sexual assault, though an actual rape was surely out of the question. She was asking other women to put themselves on the line. She would be happier if she was taking the same risk herself. But a senior officer had to take decisions coolly and rationally, and she had concluded she was more use to the operation standing ready at its nerve centre than walking around on a fairly small chance that she might be accosted. But it gave her a very real, almost motherly identification with the brave young officers who were putting their bodies on the line.

PC Darren Wilkins walked away alone, thinking hard. That snooty bitch Cathy Lindsay was among the decoys! The ideas of some big buck nigger grabbing her and raping her all holes made him want some private time. It would be only fair after she’d turned down his invitation, prissy cunt. Unfortunately, the chances of the villain picking on her were small and if he did, she’d use her alarm and the boys and girls would come running. But then would they? He was the technical guy in charge of the alarms. He had to check them and deal with any problems. Patterson was supposed to be in charge, but he was a complacent, lazy old git who would happily leave the work to Wilkins. Sandra Rees was brighter and more hardworking, but she was very new and would do what she was told, even if all she got was a gofer role. The wonderful, exciting idea was growing in Darren’s brain and transmitting excitement to his stiffening cock. He could fix that cunt Lindsay’s alarm so it didn’t work. He already had an idea of how he could do it and make it look like an unpredictable mechanical failure. It was still unlikely the rapist would actually pick on her, but if he did...FUCKING HELL! What a revenge! Even if the stupid bitch never knew her alarm had been a dud – what a revenge!