Seargeant Claudine Miller had been most happy to hear that Gerri had decided to return to her hotel room this evening. The fact that she was bringing as a present was exciting and somewhat bewildering. They had after all only just ‘met’ properly that very afternoon, so a gift seemed a little too progressive.
The rat-atat-tat in the front door set Claudine’s stomach all aflutter and her pulse racing. Claude virtually tripped over her own feet in her haste to reach and open the wooden barrier between her and her surprise.
“Go and sit in the bed with your eyes shut while I unwrap your present. And no peeking!”
Claude obeyed Gerri’s instructions very smartly. She well recognized that disobedience would simply delay the pleasures that she hoped were bound to follow compliance.
After several minutes’ delay, and the recognizable sounds of clothes rustling and at least one long zipper unfastening, Gerri’s voice whispered softly in Claude’s right ear.
Ready? On the count of three, sweety. One, two, three, open!”
The vision that greeted Claude’s eager peepers when she opened her eyes was not at all what she had expected. Rather than a simple small, unwrapped gift of some form, she espied Darlene Gillespie, devoid of all her clothing bar a decidedly suggestive flimsy black leatherette whisp or two of lingerie, displayed extremely provocatively upon her kneeling submissive form. Claude was immediately struck dumb and blushed profusely in quite recognizable confusion.
“You like your present? I thought you deserved something extra special to snack on after what must have been a trying day.”
“Thank you.”
Claude’s appreciation was heartfelt. The girl looked like she would prove quite delicious.
“You call her Darlene, or anything else you find appropriate in the moment. I am sure you will find her most obliging and responsive.”
To validate her point Gerri leant forward and rather aggressively sunk her perfectly aligned teeth into Darlene’s exposed right shoulder.
The girl shuddered in reaction without uttering a single sound.
Fergus Lothly was not in the least surprised to discover that Inspecter Alois Fennel’s off duty apparel was as elegant and pricey as the exquisite suiting he was inclined to adopt during his investigative forays. The velvet collared smoking jackey he was modeling when he opened his suite door for Fergus’s entry was a prime example, a most comfortable looking dark blue embroidered damask, with turned back cuffs matching the plush collar.
“Please excuse my casualness, but you call caught me quite unawares.”
Ferus acknowledged Alois’s apology with a cursory wave of right hand, before thrusting the same forward for the compulsory shake greeting. Alois’s grip was satisfyingly firm and not the slightest sweaty.
“Brandy?”
Without waiting for a reply Aloise poured two glasses of amber alcohol from a cut glass decanter.
“Thank you, it is a chilly night.”
Lothly was going out of his way to be endearing. He was quite aware that his dour reputation preceded him like a platoon of light infantry. The brandy was particularly good, Fennel has remarkably good taste in most things. He might well be quite the prospect for a position in Lothly’s own rather exclusive department in future less trying times.
“Well, I presume you are wondering what particular matter obliged me to interrupt your well-earned leisure time this evening?”
“The question had raised itself in my noggin.”
Fennel’s use of childlike familiarity was a nice touch.
“I had reason to visit Whitehall this afternoon. Some of the indicators in your investigation are suggestive of Home Office involvement.”
“That possibility has occurred to us poor starving souls at the bottom of the food chain.”
“Starving possibly, poor most unlikely, but most decidedly in the track of some good, sumptuous game for your cookpot. “
Daily Abstract Thoughts 