DI Jack Frost 02 - A Touch of Frost

away from the vicinity of Denton Woods. They were helping Susan back to the car when the radio blurted out.
    “Kenny to Mr. Frost. Come in, please.”
    “Frost here.”
    Kenny’s voice was triumphant. “I’ve got him, sir. I’ve got him!”

Thursday night shift

    An almost liquid surge of warm relief flooded over Frost. He could hardly take in what Kenny was saying. Kenny had spotted the man charging out of the woods, stark naked. The man had jumped into a car and roared off, but the police constable had managed to swing the patrol car across his path and bring him to a halt.
    “Where are you?” asked Frost.
    “In the slip road, about four hundred yards southwest of you.”
    They cut across until they could see the sodium lamps and the flashing blue of Kenny’s patrol car, which was sprawled across the road, hemming in a metallic silver D-registered Mercedes. The windows of the Mercedes were misted with streaming condensation.
    Kenny had a man in an arm-lock, bent across the bonnet. The man was not quite naked. He wore red socks and black shoes.
    “You dirty bastard!” snarled Webster.
    Frost moved to block Webster, who seemed ready to lunge at the man. “Put the cuffs on him,” he said. Kenny spun the man round, then snapped handcuffs on his wrists.
    “Well, well, well,” commented Frost, running his eye over their captive, who was about thirty-five, short, plumpish, and looking absolutely terrified. “Is this him, Sue?”
    “I don’t know, sir. I didn’t see him at all.”
    “Would you mind telling me what this is all about,” squeaked the man, bringing down his handcuffed wrists to cover himself.
    “Don’t you know, sir?” asked Frost, mockingly. Then his eye caught a movement inside the Mercedes. “Who’ve you got in there?” The misted windows blocked his view. He yanked open the rear door. “Flaming heck!”
    In the back seat, frantically trying to get into a dress, was a young woman, naked except for a pair of briefs. The heater had been going full pelt and the interior was overpoweringly hot and thick with the lingering cloy of cheap perfume and sweat. The woman snatched up the dress and bundled it to cover her breasts. “Shut that bloody door,” she hissed.
    Frost slammed shut the door. The first doubts crept in. “Who is your passenger, sir?”
    “None of your business, officer. Would you please allow me to get dressed. I’ll end up with pneumonia.”
    Frost risked the passenger’s wrath and opened the rear door again. “You’re not being raped by any chance, are you, madam?”
    “No, I bloody well am not,” she snapped. “Now piss off, all of you!”
    The inspector closed the door yet again. “Your friend has a charming way with words, sir. Would you care to explain what you are doing here?”
    The man raised his eyes to the dark, moonless sky. “Are you sure you’re a detective? We’re in the car. I’m stripped. She’s stripped. What do you think we were doing, playing bingo? What I’d like to know is what the hell you are doing here?”
    “Attempted rape, sir. About five minutes ago.”
    “Well it certainly wasn’t attempted by me, Inspector. It’s taking me all my time trying to keep up with that nymphomaniac in the back seat. Now, can I please get dressed?”
    Frost shook his head. “You weren’t in the car when my officer first saw you, sir. You were running, stark naked, from the area where the attempted rape took place.”
    The man snorted with exasperation. “All right. If we have to go into detail then I’ll go into detail. I left the car because I felt the need to relieve myself. I also felt the need for a bit of a break. It’s like working a treadmill trying to satisfy her in there. I’m having a nice, quiet restful pee under the stars when suddenly there’s someone charging up on me. I think it’s her husband so I race back to the car to get the hell out of there. Next thing I know I’m in a scene from “Starsky and Hutch” - sirens . . . skids . . . police. I pull over and I’m yanked out of the motor and spreadeagled all over the bonnet. I’ve committed no offence and I don’t see why I should be treated like this.”
    Frost signalled for Kenny to unlock the handcuffs. The man rubbed his wrists, then snatched up his clothes from the front seat and started dressing as quickly as he could.
    “Who is the lady, sir?”
    The man looked to left and to right, then lowered his voice. “She’s my secretary. We’re both married so,