"We met… at my place of work.""That was where? And under what circumstances?" "I was his employee."Pensby's brows arch. "His employee? So, Richard Haswell was paying you? You were answerable to him for your job? For your income and your living?""I suppose.""And if he'd asked anything of you, as a good employee, you would have done as he asked?""Anything within reason, of course, but he never…""Miss Kimberley, if you have been coerced or pressured into some arrangement by Richard Haswell, you have nothing to fear. An admission now would ensure that you would not bear the consequences of any criminal…""It's Mrs Haswell! And I'm not about to admit to something that hasn't happened."Another box tick, then, as though I'd said nothing at all, he continues in the same colourless drone. "Where do you live, Mrs Haswell?"My brain blanks over. "Live? What d'you mean? I live here. This is our home. You must know that. You drove here. Knocked on my door.""Do you have a set of house keys?
"That's the whole point of these investigations," sneers Pensby. "Rooting out corruption.""I have worked for Richard Haswell for years," snaps Ross. "He is not corrupt. And his marriage to Mrs Haswell here is completely genuine. They dote on each other.""Yes, very romantic, I'm sure. However, we are investigating possible serious fraudulent activity…"I've had enough. "In which case, it is a criminal matter. The police should be conducting this interview and I should have my lawyer with me…"Is that true?I've no idea.I have no experience of anything like this. No frame of reference.Pensby Tuts. "Your lack of cooperation will be entered in my report. As you say, we shall continue this interview another time, Miss Kimberley, and under more formal conditions." Nonetheless, he flinches as Ross looms closer. Bundling clipboard and briefcase under an arm, he scuttles out, Ross right behind him…… And shaking… shuddering rage and humiliation… I burst into tears.Again the door opens, thi
Claudia and I have run out of small talk. She sits beside me, awkward, sharing the silence.Ross hovers in the background, shifting from one foot to the other. "Have you ever seen him like this before?" I ask."Not even close. Never in anything approaching this kind of rage…" He spreads helpless palms. "He's normally so unflappable.""Who's this Adrian Barclay?"He shrugs. "I guess we're about to find out."Then…The bellow echoes down the hall. "Barclay, damn you! What the hell do you think you're playing at? If you have a problem with me, you come deal with me. You do not invade my home and attack my wife… I beg to differ. Attack is exactly the right word…"His voice falls, and he drops into silence, then, "Yes, your excuse for an officer was completely unprofessional. He treated Elizabeth with utter disregard for her feelings. His line of questioning was demeaning and humiliating. His behaviour contemptible. You seriously expect any respectable woman would give intimate details of h
My Master too, is warming. A fine sheen gleams over his forehead and cheeks, smoothing the scrape of a day's stubble over my chin. His breathing deepens and as he pulls away from me for a moment, pupils like great dark eclipses have all but swallowed the steel-blue irises. His movement grows more urgent, more ardent. Not merely embracing me now, but grasping me, my own fragrance surges, pungent with arousal and my sheer need for the man I accepted as, first my Master, then my husband.His breathing rasps, his colour growing high, matching the flush flooding my breasts, blushing over my neck and face. Inside too, heat ripples my core, liquefying to lave my unfurling pussy and my swelling folds.He glides a hand over my belly. One of us is slick with sweat. Him? Me? More likely, both. The palm slides smoothly, massaging over my waist, my hips, my outer thighs, then cupping my mound…"Open for me," he breathes, easing a foot between my ankles, supporting my leg as I slide it over his. Th
I wake early, rolling over to find the bed beside me empty. The blankets are flung back on his side and the sheets are still warm.Listening for movement from the bathroom instead, the almost silent pad of footsteps from the hall outside is followed by my Master nudging open the bedroom door with a tray. The scents of toast and coffee call to me, haul me upright against my pillow as though I were on strings.He sets the tray alongside me, then, perching a hip on the bedside, leans in to brush his lips over mine. "How are you this morning, my Love?" His words are soft, but worry lurks there, like a shark in the shallows. "Did you sleep well?"I switch on my best and brightest smile. "I'm fine, Master. And yes, I slept very well…" The unease fades behind his eyes. "… I didn't expect to wake up to breakfast. This is perfect. Thank you." Taking a slice of toast, I slather it with butter, pass it to him, then butter another for myself. "You're up and about very early. Has something happened
"Who suggested it to Barclay?" I say. "Where did he get it from?"Pondering, my Master slices off a sliver of cheese, chewing slowly. "So far as I'm aware, direct from Vandervoort, but I didn't think to ask. I will."Claudia shakes her head. "Gotta say, it's been an education. Whatever happened here, it's a scandal. All aside from your involvement in this, my friends, the fact that it could happen to anyone at all is a complete disgrace. Supposedly you're innocent unless proven guilty. Shouldn't they at least follow the same rule as the police and give people chance to have a lawyer with them?""Couldn't agree more." He slides the cheese plate toward her. "Try some of the Roquefort. It's very good."*****All goes quiet and after several days, we have heard no more.It seems that Adrian Barclay has gotten the message to conduct any Revenue investigation he still thinks appropriate through conventional channels. My Master is clearly unconcerned by that prospect, shrugging it off. "They
I exchange glances with my Master. His voice remains bland. "You have our attention." "I followed him for a couple of days. Trailed him from City Hall to his home. He lives in an apartment just off the city centre. Alone so far as I could see. But I shadowed him in the evenings too." Claudia fishes in her bag, producing her mobile. "I've not printed any of this yet. Don't want to risk anyone stumbling across anything inappropriate."She opens up on a short video clip. Pensby, exiting an apartment block, straightening his tie as he walks. The pudding-basin haircut is slicked back. The cheap suit is ill-fitting and badly chosen.Claudia sniffs. "Doesn't cut much of a figure, does he?" Her eyes sparkle, perhaps with humour. Or maybe with malice.I lean in close. "No. He's not exactly every maiden's dream. Sometimes there's a reason guys are single " I also sniff. "Although, in this case, I'll admit. I'm biased."My Master presses a forefinger to his lips. "So, what do we learn from this,
The table I booked nestles in one of the booths, secluded and to the rear of the dining area. As we take our seats, the waiter scoops up the Reserved label. A matching Reserved sign sits on the table in the next booth, equally secluded, back to back with our own. Claudia and I sit together, facing away from that booth.The waiter looms. "Something to drink while you wait for your party?""Claudia?""Whatever you're getting.""A bottle of Sauvignon Blanc," I say.The waiter sniffs. "Very good, Madam."I nudge Claudia. "I ordered the right table, did I? This one behind us is where they sat?""Yup. So long as they come to the same table, they'll be right behind us." Glancing across toward the waiters, she fiddles with her phone, then twists, trailing a fine cable between us, then behind, winding it into one of the plants twining into the screen. "Camera and microphone," she says, flashing brows. "My phone as it is would probably catch what they're saying, but this is better.""Waiter's c