Chapter 2 – … and two steps back

Now that my cover had been blown, I desperately needed to disappear. My very life was under threat and any faith I’d had in the authorities’ ability to hide me had fallen to absolute zero. There was only one thing to do. I would have to take my survival into my own hands. Adopting a completely new identity was required, and the only way I could think to try which had any chance of succeeding was to create a female persona for myself, no matter how unwelcome that might be. Inwardly I was groaning “Not again!”

The idea was certainly not original but unlike the hapless fugitives in Some Like It Hot, I wouldn’t be playing this role for laughs. The sobering reality was that in order to hide in plain sight, my apparent femininity would need to be faultless. Success or failure could mean life or death for me. Rapidly the essentials of the plan began to take shape in my head. This might just work.

Immediately, however, doubts began to assail me. Now I was older, would that make things more difficult? Would I be able to resume life as a female after so much time had passed? Could I achieve a convincing transformation using the limited possessions I had with me? How long had I got before my assailants would return to finish the job? I forced myself to put such anxieties aside and tried to stay focused on what I had to do.

Carefully, I removed my false beard and brushed out my hair. I stripped off my polo shirt and the chest-constricting singlet I had adopted as my normal wear. Then with my polo shirt back on and clutched about my waist I struck what I deemed to be a feminine pose. I held up my head, arched my neck and pulled back my shoulders then looked in the mirror seeking confirmation that this could work. I was reassured to see more than a trace of a woman gazing back at me. Sadly, the masculinity I had tried so hard to foster had so easily begun to fade.

It was a relief to see that I had a chance of eluding my pursuers, but I needed to act fast. My constant anxiety was whether my would-be assassins might have returned, as return they surely would. I rummaged hastily through my things and found the most appealing shirt I had. I put it on in place of my present one. It was tight across my torso and made my chest appear more prominent. The lift which a bra would have provided would have been welcome but no dice there. I thought that my figure seemed a touch matronly, so I unbuttoned the front a little to display a hint of cleavage. Perhaps that would distract any onlooker from too closely critiquing the shape of my 'bosom'. So far so good.

Now for my bottom half. I dug out a reel of tape from the med-kit I carried and applied some lengths of it down below. It was vital to achieve a convincing tuck and avoid that telltale bump in my nether regions. I had a pair of pants which had shrunk when I’d carelessly tossed them into the laundromat. They were now on the small side, and I could only just squeeze into them. Their snugness across my well-rounded butt ought to help project the feminine look I was after. My footwear would have to remain unchanged, as I had no alternative pair with me, but I hoped my sneakers were androgynous enough to pass.

Last came hair and make-up. I spent precious minutes restyling the former, piling it up to give more volume. I was thankful that Rachel had insisted on it remaining long, so I had never gone through with having it cut. As for the latter, by a stroke of fortune I had recently purchased a travel set of cosmetics. It was to be a present for my daughter, Georgie, whose birthday was due shortly. I hesitated to raid its contents but decided that my immediate need was greater than hers. I applied the make-up with careful attention to detail after promising myself I would send her a replacement at the first opportunity. The prospect of us actually meeting up looked like being more remote than ever and I wondered who would be the more embarrassed if she were to see the image staring back at me from the glass, her or me.

As I regarded the result of my efforts, the renewal of my feminised self, it occurred to me that my mother would be overjoyed if she were able to see me got up like this once more, if not by the danger I was in. Though she had long been in her grave I could almost feel the ties of her all-pervading apron strings dragging me back from my much too brief excursion into the masculine world which she had fought so hard to prevent me being part of. It now appeared that there was to be no lasting escape from her manipulating clutches. I could imagine her having the last laugh at my expense.

I had no leisure for such idle musings. My hurried transformation was as complete as precious time allowed and I deemed I was ready to endure the scrutiny of a waiting world, always providing it wasn’t too intense. I put my wallet in the make-up purse, slung a jacket over my shoulder and abandoning the rest of my possessions and my rented car, I hit the road. The first truck that came by screeched to a halt when I stuck out my thumb. My growing confidence in my altered appearance was boosted by the driver’s greeting. “Where’s a pretty girl like you bound to, missy?”

Though I had apparently made my getaway undetected I reckoned I needed to cover my tracks more thoroughly. Also, I needed to perfect my disguise. I alighted at the first town we came to and thanking the truckdriver, waved him goodbye. Across the road stood a Goodwill store which I entered and began to rummage among the racks of discarded clothing. For a handful of dollars I could surely find myself a few essentials.

A blue polka dot crop top caught my eye, and close by there was a pleated miniskirt whose colour complemented it. Doubtful that it would cover as much of my womanly thighs as I would have liked, I was tempted instead to look for a skirt or dress which approached my knees, but I couldn’t find anything in my size, or at least anything that went well with the top. I searched on. I came across some mid-heel pumps in a shade which went pretty well and that settled it. A short pink jacket provided the finishing touch and reassured me about the wisdom of my other choices. As an afterthought I added a holdall to carry my new belongings.

Pleased with my purchases, I left the store with a new lightness in my step, satisfied that I had not wasted my time in there. My justification for spending precious minutes shopping for clothes wasn’t all about looking chic, though I must confess that had always been important to me when I’d been in girl-mode before. No! Ideally I needed an outfit that caught the eye, but tastefully so, in order to distract from too close an examination of my person. Now all I had to do was to make the final transition.

I walked farther along the main drag and came to a mart which sold pretty much everything. There I selected some underwear in my size and picked up some pantyhose. I paid for my purchases and moments later found myself in a stall in the ladies’ powder room. Here was my opportunity. I stripped off the androgynous get-up I had worn for my escape and hesitated, regarding my new girly outfit with disfavour. I sighed. There was nothing else for it!

First, I slipped my feet into the pair of panties I had purchased. They were of a plain style but the softness of the fabric against my skin made me shiver. It seemed like I was stepping into a fathomless pool of womanhood which lay ready to engulf me. I slid them up my legs and eased them over my tucked nether regions, trying to ignore any such unsettling notions. Next, I carefully inserted my toes into the pantyhose and, careful not to snag them, pulled them up to my waist. It seemed like immersing my reluctant self even deeper in those dark waters while the life-raft of my manhood drifted further out of reach, despite my vain desire to cling to it.

The simple white bra I put on was unadorned, but its impact was dramatic. The lift it gave the swollen mounds on my chest made them clamour for attention. There was no escape from the siren seas of female allure surrounding me and when I donned the crop top, its tightness pushed my boobs up higher still. Now I was out of my depth, swept away on a voluptuous tide. It was a struggle to wriggle the little skirt I’d bought up and over my butt. A glance in the mirror reassured me. I had to admit that it looked hot and so did I! Any second glances I could expect to receive would be given for all the right reasons. Actually, they would be for all the wrong reasons but… you know what I mean! Now I was in over my head, submerged in an ocean of femininity.

I left the store and making a brief detour down a side alley to a dumpster, which allowed me to bid farewell to the remains of my masculine clothing, I set out for the bus station. I scanned warily around but there was no sign of a homburg hat of any shade in any direction. I took some encouragement from this circumstance and stepped out boldly, my heels clattering loudly on the hard paving. I couldn’t help but notice that my hips were swaying in time to their rhythm and that was without my even trying. The pleated hem of my little skirt fluttered teasingly against my legs and the sensation gave rise to a tingling down below, an undesired but all too familiar feeling to which I knew I would have to get used.

Memories of Jennifer’s former existence came flooding back to me as an irresistible tidal wave swept me away, lost to the deep for good. I sighed. Reluctantly, very reluctantly, I had to own that, despite my wishes to the contrary, this was sort of, kind of, fun!

At the bus station I ran my eye over the board and picked a destination almost at random. My ruling thought was that if I hadn’t heard of a place there was an even chance that it wouldn’t have heard of me.

I boarded the Greyhound and steeled myself to disregard the stares I was getting as I passed down the aisle, disapproving or otherwise. The latter were principally from the males among my fellow passengers. I’d been free from that kind of attention for so long that it was a shock to be forcibly reminded that it went with the territory. Welcome to being a woman! I made my way to the back of the bus where there was a pair of vacant seats over which I could spread myself and my scant belongings. The first hurdle had been surmounted and a new life beckoned. Or was it my old one returning? Who cared?

Watch out world. Jennifer Cartwright is back!

Chapter 3 – The ex-agent

The bar was empty of customers when I waltzed in on that particular evening. That was okay. It would me give a few additional minutes to adapt to the oppressive climate, to harden myself and put on the mask I would wear for the duration of my working hours. I’d had the job only a couple of months but had quickly gotten used to playing the part. At age twenty-five my hair and make-up now needed more maintenance than in my teenage years so I had taken my time and spared no attention to detail getting myself ready. Awareness that I looked my best was a sure way of increasing my confidence and that in turn would help me dispense the kind of sassy charm expected of a hostess in this up-and-coming establishment.

This preoccupation with my looks was not mere vanity… well… okay it was partly vanity. I had to derive some satisfaction from all the effort I was putting into being a girl. No, it was essential to my safety to flaunt my apparent femininity at every opportunity, or so I deemed. To that end, I had no higher aim than to be accepted as one of the place’s resident femmes fatales. At first, I copied the other hostesses who effortlessly projected an aura of charm and mystery to attract hapless males. Subterfuge was the key. Hints, insinuations and unfulfilled promises soon became my stock in trade. There were ample compensations for playing this game. Though the pay was low, the tips could be generous.

This particular night the action was slow, and that didn’t suit me at all. Flitting lightly from one unfulfilled punter to another was where the real money could be made and it wasn’t happening. I’d chosen my outfit with care. The material of my little minidress was of a silvery satin and I was conscious that the way its shimmering folds clung to my breasts showed their fullness and shape to advantage. Its skirt finished well above the knee and flared subtly from my hips to emphasise the narrowness of my waist, while tending to hide the ‘womanliness’ of my butt and thighs. Attaining an hourglass figure, something I was proud to show off, had taken a lot of work. However, as I stalked the bar to the sound of my skirts brushing against my stocking-clad legs, my apparently feminine fragility was proving of little avail.

It was when I had done my round of the sprinkling of regulars in the room and was perched on a barstool contemplating my sorry lot that the gamechanger breezed in. The man was tanned, lean and athletic. He prowled with brisk lithe movements like a big cat. While a few grey strands in his neatly clipped imperial and the silvering of his hair hinted that his youth might well be behind him, he oozed vigour from every pore. It was easy to guess that an hour or two in this maverick’s company could turn into a rewarding experience in more ways than one!

“Hello handsome!” I greeted him, with a welcoming smile. “You’re a stranger here, but that can soon be changed. Sit by me, won’t you, and we can get better acquainted?”

By way of response the fellow stared at me. He simply gazed as if I were from a different planet. Perhaps he was right; sometimes I felt like I was!

“Hello” I repeated. “I’ll start by introducing myself, shall I? I’m…”

“Jennifer!” he finished my sentence for me, smiling. “Yes, I recognised you straight away. Forgive me, but I was marvelling how little you have changed. What is it? Eight years? Yes, that must be it. Eight years. A lot of water has flowed under since then.”

It was my turn to stare, and I did. I was completely nonplussed. I tried to cast my mind back that distance in time, but unsuccessfully. The period to which he alluded must have been not long after I’d started out as a photographic model. Georgie would have been about to be born just around then. My hazy recollections didn’t help me place the man.

“You have the advantage of me, sir.”

“So it seems!”

The voice sounded familiar, but…

“You have no remembrance of that little town down near the southern border where a pretty young girl braved peril to come to her country’s aid in its hour of need? Strange! You must lead an interesting life if you have forgotten those dramatic days!”

A memory stirred. I tried to latch on to it and was rewarded with the surfacing of a name.

“Guy? Guy Martinez.”

“The same. Or rather, an older version” he smirked. “And it shows!” He pointed to his head of greying locks.

“Don’t complain! That longer hairstyle suits you just fine. Let me look at you. You’ve filled out some, but that’s good. A girl likes a man to be covered!” It jarred on my consciousness to realise I had switched into the flirty manner I adopted for work without even trying. “Tramp!” I silently branded myself.

I ploughed on regardless, patting my butt and then running my hand over my thigh. “You’re not the only one who has accumulated some substance. You carry it better, I reckon.”

“I disagree” Guy contradicted archly. “From where I’m standing, I can’t imagine a shapelier figure.”

I gave a little bob in acknowledgement of the compliment but added ruefully. “Not everyone would go along with that. The modelling agency for one. Apparently, I’m too womanly for them these days. My innocent girlish looks have long since been a thing of the past.”

Though the increase in fullness of my bust ought to have made up for what it had lost in perkiness, the modelling world didn’t see things that way. That hadn’t been all of it of course. Though my photographic career was already in decline, what had also intervened had been my ill-starred decision to regain my masculinity. That had finished it, but I wasn’t going to mention it.

“You have blossomed amazingly.”

“Oh, you don’t have to say that. I’m not fishing” I assured him. “Let’s sit.”

Our tête-à-tête was interrupted while I allowed Guy to order us drinks, then I continued. “My photographic work came to an end several years back. I had to find some other way to earn a crust… which is why I work here. Altogether we get by. How about you? Are you still with the agency? Or have you moved to a different one?”

My curiosity had never been rewarded with certainty as to which government department had the benefit of the man’s talents, hence the vagueness of my questioning. It was to remain unfulfilled now.

He shook his head. “No, I too have moved on. I work for myself. I’m…”

“Let me guess! I reckon… you’re… you’re a private eye. Am I wrong?”

Guy laughed out loud. “That’s what they’re called in books. I prefer the term ‘special investigator’. It sounds much more professional.”

“You mean, I was right? You are a detective? That’s crazy!”

He only smiled.

“Actually, no. It’s not crazy at all. You have the ideal qualifications... and experience. Where are you based?”

The ex-government man mentioned a city an hour’s drive away from this one.

“Tell me. Do you have an attractive assistant who does all the running around, while you sit in the office and give her misleading instructions?”

He grinned ruefully at my jibe. “That’s right! I reckoned we made a good team, eight years ago.”

“Really?” To my recollection, the mocking job description that I had just given him bore too much a resemblance to the actual role I’d played back then for comfort. I was less than sure it would bear repeating.

“That’s what I came to see you about. I need that assistant, and one with your special qualities, I might add.”

I knew exactly what he meant by ‘special’. My dual identity had been no secret from the man.

“You mean, you knew I worked here?” I blurted, wondering how it had been that I was so easy to find. Hopefully it was my female persona he had tracked down and not the male one lurking beneath. The risk that the connection between the two might be exposed would be of the utmost significance, but why didn’t the doubt he had raised worry me more? Well, somewhat illogically, just to hear Guy’s voice brought a measure of reassurance. I felt safer just then than I had for weeks.

“This job of yours” he went on. “How much free time does it leave you?”

“Not much. I had high hopes. At college, you may remember, I got a qualification in skin therapy, and I wanted to make good use of it, but life hasn’t worked out that way.”

It seemed only proper to retain some vestige of a private life, so I failed to draw attention to my fugitive status. I continued airily “I’m at the bottom of the food chain. The pay here is hopeless, but the patrons seem to like me, the male ones, that is, and we have some laughs.”

“I can imagine.” The investigator’s eyes ran over my bodily attributes, causing me some embarrassment. My hard-boiled act seemed to have worn a little thin in the presence of this visitor from my former life.

“So, how about it, Jennifer? Abandon this vocation to bring excitement into the lives of sad little men to others less well-endowed than yourself... in subtle skills, I mean. Whatever you earn now, I’ll double it if you’ll come and work for me.”

He made the deal sound very attractive. On the plus side, it might offer more fulfilment than my present mundane duties and I could certainly use the money, but mostly, I would feel a lot less vulnerable at the side of someone like Guy.

“I’ll have to think about it. How can I let you know?”

“Don’t take too long to decide. I’ll contact you.” He stood up and drained his glass. With an abrupt “Be seeing you!” he was gone, providing me with a vivid reminder of the exasperating man’s penchant for unnecessary mystery.

It figured. That was Guy all over!

Two full days elapsed before I had the chance to discuss the offer with Rachel. We had to keep secret any connection between us for safety’s sake and that made communication difficult. We had been living apart ever since I’d entered witness protection and to all appearances had gone our separate ways. With the avowed intention of exploring her inner self, she had joined a well-known hippie commune in the mid-West, taking Georgie with her. In the previous year the nation had celebrated the Summer of Love, which I had spent alone. I didn’t notice the paradox at the time!

In a mood of practicality, we’d agreed that we would remain married but would be free to seek other relationships, until we could be together again. That was a decision I was to regret whenever I felt vulnerable or isolated and that was quite often. How I hated being practical at those times! Continuing apart was a sad state of affairs but we could see no other way forward.

Now I’d been presented with Guy’s offer of more meaningful employment I grabbed at it with both hands. On top of the offer of escape from my fruitless existence, I desperately needed some kind of companionship and this opportunity to work with someone I both knew and trusted threw me a lifeline I wasn’t going to let slip. The glamorous life of a special investigator’s assistant which beckoned seemed an ideal alternative to my present hand to mouth existence.

I was unsure whether my role was going to be as a Miss Lemon or a Dr Watson but either way, I was up for it!

Chapter 4 – My first case

All too soon, the anticipated charms of my promised new lifestyle became tarnished. When, after several days more had passed, I found myself in Guy’s place of business for the first time, it would have been putting it mildly to say I was disappointed by the surroundings. I hadn’t expected the Ritz, but the building was ancient and its condition could best have been summed up as dilapidated. The furniture in the office itself evidently dated from another era, one long-bygone.

The most pressing difficulty I’d had to face so far was… what ought a private dick’s assistant wear? After much deliberation, I’d decided that a simple white blouse and dark skirt would be de-rigueur for an apprentice sleuth. While I sat taking notes from my principal it was borne upon me that my choice had been a good one. The particular skirt that I’d selected that morning had a muted check pattern. Its cut was cute, hugging my figure, and its demure length put just enough of my hose-clad legs on display, or so I reckoned. I was unamused therefore to see that after Guy’s initial head to toe scrutiny of my person his face bore a frown. “You look nice” was his comment, to my momentary relief. Then he added “very nice. Next time, perhaps try for a livelier style!”

The implied rebuke stung. All the thought and care which had gone into my preparations had been in vain evidently. It was disappointing not to have won the man’s approval though I would have been hard put to it to understand why it mattered so much to me. It wasn’t as if I were attracted to him, for heaven’s sake. Also, I was puzzled why he felt it necessary to critique my outfit, unless he thought, like me, that I needed to project a totally femme image to maintain my female persona. Could that mean he was aware I was even now a fugitive?

Things got worse. As I took notes on the three or four of his cases which were ongoing at that time, the onset of terminal boredom set in. The subject matter of what I was recording was mind-numbingly mundane; a stray pet, a stolen purse, its contents only of sentimental value, and a backyard boundary dispute. They failed to whet my appetite. Perhaps the life of a private eye wasn’t exciting after all.

“Is that it?” I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

“I also had a call yesterday. It was from a woman called Gloria Simpson who thought she was being followed. Not worth pursuing, in my view.”

Now to me, that sort of case seemed to contain promising potential, though Guy had dismissed it with an airy wave of the hand. “She should be so lucky. Some middle-aged spinster, by the sound of her voice. Just another lonely heart, I’m guessing. There will be no money in that one, so by my reckoning it’s a frost.”

My new boss then told me that he would be engaged in tracking down an absent husband, starting immediately. His search would take him across the country, hence the need for an assistant to staff the office in his absence. By his reckoning the new case promised to be a remunerative one, and he departed shortly after our meeting to follow up on the missing spouse, leaving me in charge, or rather holding the fort.

I pondered my new role. The immediate task which was to occupy my talents was arranging the backlog of case files into some kind of order. The prospect of the dull morning ahead left me feeling disgruntled, wondering whether I had done the right thing by taking the job. Was this career in any way more fulfilling than my previous one and was it what I really wanted? I was aware that I could pick up where I’d left off at the bar if I decided to quit, but it was early days, and so I told myself. One powerful consideration was that I felt a lot safer working here, even if Guy wasn’t always immediately to hand.

I had only got as far as formulating these thoughts when the phone rang. I picked it up and answered with a feeling of liberation. Any excuse to put off the pursuit of my allotted chore was very welcome. I was to be disappointed, however. The call was merely an office supplies company, chasing payment for a stationery order. It stirred up another anxiety in my already troubled head. How was Guy’s business doing, financially speaking? Naively, I hadn’t given that matter any thought up to that moment.

By noon, I was sorting through the penultimate file of papers when the instrument sounded again. With my task nearly complete, I resented the interruption this time and it was with a sigh of resignation that I picked up the receiver. “Abacus Investigations. How may I help?”
My boss had chosen that name, apparently, because it would come near the top of the list in the telephone directory, an important success factor; possibly the only one!

“Who are you? I want to speak to Mr Martinez himself.”

“Unfortunately, he’s out of the office just now. I’m Jennifer, his assistant. Can I be of service?”

“I’m not sure. Can you?”

“If you tell me what you want, I expect I can. Who is this please?”

“This is Mrs Simpson.”

The penny dropped. The ‘lonely heart’!

“I told everything to Mr Martinez, but he hasn’t got back to me. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.”

The woman’s tone was peremptory, and I could see that dealing with her would require diplomacy. Patience being a quality so far not perceived in Guy’s make-up, here perhaps was an opportunity for my own skills to be brought to bear.

“It’s unfortunate that he’s so busy at present. However, I’m here to help. Would you like me to come and see you?”

“Yes. That would be acceptable. This afternoon, if you please. I live on the south side. Have you a pencil ready?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Here is my address.”

Once the woman was sure that I had transcribed her directions faithfully, she rang off without further ceremony. Great! My first case and I hadn’t the remotest idea how to handle it.

I finished my filing chore before heading out across town. It felt like I was going AWOL, but my boss hadn’t specified I was to remain in the office. Neither had he troubled to let me know where to contact him. To square my conscience, I left a note explaining my whereabouts on the desk against his return. Free at last and in glorious sunshine I had a sense that adventure filled the air. Here was life!

The house wasn’t difficult to find; a large grey-stone mansion with an imposing façade, set back from the road. A maid in uniform opened the door for me and ushered me into an imposing hallway. As I took in my surroundings, I noted that the room was expensively furnished. To contradict Guy’s earlier surmise, there clearly might be plenty of revenue to be had in this case and any remaining trace of guilt over my seizing the initiative vanished.

I was announced into the drawing room where the lady of the house was seated. Elegance and opulence met my eyes everywhere I looked. She did not rise to greet me but sat, frostily eyeing me up and down with a critical glare. Despite a pause during which I found myself holding my breath, the overall result seemed to be favourable, thankfully.

“Please sit Miss Cartwright.” The woman thawed a fraction. She had delicate features and would best be described as being of a certain age. Her reddish hair was elegantly coiffed, and she was tastefully dressed and made up, though to my former beautician’s critical eye the application of her cosmetics was a touch heavy for that hour of the day.

“Please call me Jennifer, or if you prefer, Jenny” I smiled, trying to melt the ice some more, but unsuccessfully.

“Thank-you for coming, Miss Cartwright.” The woman’s tone remained formal. She spoke deliberately and in a rich contralto voice which I reckoned had benefitted from elocution coaching at some time in her life. “This is not a social call. Let me get right to the point. I trust that your Mr Martinez has briefed you fully?”

“Of course” I lied. “However, it would be useful to start over. I wouldn’t want to miss the smallest detail which could assist this investigation.”

My prospective client looked pleased at this evidence of thoroughness. “I agree. Well, I will begin at the beginning, in that case. It started two weeks ago. I was returning home from out of state after visiting some friends. I had just turned off the freeway when I noticed a dark blue sedan two or three cars behind me. It seemed to have been there for some time.”

“Did you notice the make of car?”

“Please do not interrupt. I was coming to that. I believe it to have been a Ford, though I’m unsure of the particular model. Anyway, a few blocks away from home it turned off and I dismissed the matter from my mind. Since then, however, I have seen what I believe to have been the same automobile behind me four or five times. Sometimes when I have been returning here and other times when leaving. On one occasion I pulled over to let it pass, hoping to see who was driving, but to no avail. The vehicle shot past me so quickly that I had no chance to get a look at the driver or take the licence plate. A few blocks further on, however, there it was behind me once again.”

The woman paused and, hesitant to stem the flow of her narrative, I nodded significantly.

“I am not a nervous person, Miss Cartwright, nor given to flights of fancy, but I dislike the feeling of being watched.”

I nodded again.

“I would like to know who this person is and what has prompted such intrusive behaviour. So… how do you intend to proceed?”

I gave a start at being put on the spot, then attempted to cover it by clearing my throat. Thinking rapidly, I could see only one suitable course of action. “To begin with, when you next leave the house, I will follow behind you, but at a distance. You must let me know where you will be headed so I don’t lose you. If this person tries to tail you, I should be able to see where they come from. I will take note of their licence plate. We are able to trace those numbers.”

“Is that all?”

“To begin with. Once we know who this is, then it will be clearer what course of action is appropriate. Can you think of anyone who might bear a grudge against you? Anyone at all?”

“I’m afraid I can’t.”

“I’m guessing that Mr Simpson is not around.”

“He died two years ago, shortly after we moved here.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” The words came mechanically and sounded hollow in my ears, barren of comfort.

“I miss him dreadfully. He would have known exactly what to do.” I was aware that I was being regarded as a doubtful substitute.

“Where did you live before?”

The woman’s face lit up at the question. “Before that we lived out in the country, up in the hills. I was happy there.”

I paused before moving on. It felt right to let her dwell in the moment. “When will you next be taking the car out somewhere?”

Her next excursion was apparently fixed for the following afternoon. “I usually go to a tea dance at the Grand on a Wednesday” stated the woman. “It’s a nice way to make new friends.”

“Perfect!” I agreed, reflecting that if Gloria adhered to a regular schedule the stalker was more likely to show, if stalker there was.

I drove back to the office warily, wondering whether I too would be tailed by some mysterious car. I failed to notice anything behind me despite frequent checks in the rear-view mirror. I had only been back a few minutes when Guy telephoned.

“Jennifer. How are you getting on?”

“Oh, I’ve finished all the filing” I assured him. “The office is in tip-top shape, you will find.”

“That’s good. Sorry to leave you to your own devices on your first day, but this case I’m pursuing is turning out to be more intricate than I thought. I will be travelling west tomorrow and will be away a day or two longer. I can’t offer you anything very interesting to do in the meantime. You will just be answering the telephone, should anyone ring.”

“That’s okay.” Here was an opportunity to give my boss an update. “That lady who thinks she is being followed called again, wanting me to visit her, so I did. Is that okay?”

“Gloria Simpson? A time-waster, and really not worth bothering with, but go right ahead. It will keep you occupied, I guess,” he laughed ruefully “and will give you a taste of how boring the job can be at times. Make sure you check the answer phone for messages, though. Be seeing you.” With those encouraging words, he rang off.

Chapter 5 – Let’s dance

The following day I rose early, eager to face any new challenge that came my way. After some internal debate over what to wear, I decided on a silk miniskirt in a dusky pink that I’d bought recently. It might not offer durability, but I was sure it was right on trend and certainly ‘livelier’ than the one I’d worn the day before. The clincher was that I had both shoes and purse which would go with it very nicely. In the confidence stakes, looking chic would help to counter my inexperience, I reckoned. Now all I had to solve was the problem of what to wear with it!

Just the day before I’d purchased a new black bra which wanted an occasion to be worn and the possibility of being in company with my elegant client provided just such a one, to my way of thinking. After I’d showered and dried myself, I slipped into the matching panties and eased the bra straps over my shoulders. As I positioned my boobs into the lacy cups and fastened the hooks behind my back, I could almost see the irritating smirk on my mother’s face over the deft way I performed that operation. Her strict discipline had forestalled my ever using the clip-in-front-and-swivel-round approach. While sitting at my vanity and giving my make-up the attention it deserved, I had ample time to reflect on how her influence still dominated so much of my existence. The realisation was galling!

Galling it might be, but if I had been entirely honest, I would have had to own a certain frisson of pleasure accompanying my labours in front of the mirror. It was satisfying to remind myself that this was something I good at, and moreover, prettying myself up could be a whole lot of fun!

My next problem was transport. I reckoned my own car might be too noticeable if I were to use it to tail anyone so I left my apartment in plenty of time and hailed a cab. I asked the driver to stop a few blocks short of the Simpson ménage and told him to wait.

Unsurprisingly he seemed very pleased to comply. “Suit yourself. It isn’t often I get paid for doing nothing, lady. I could get used to this!”

We sat a good ten minutes during which time I had to deflect his natural curiosity repeatedly with a “Can’t say!”, in answer to his many questions.

Eventually la Simpson’s cherry red Buick made its appearance. I let it drive on a couple of blocks before instructing my chauffeur “Follow that car!” I’d always wanted to say that! We hadn’t gone more than two hundred yards before a dark blue sedan pulled out from a side turning in front of us. I told my driver to remain a vehicle or so behind this newcomer in the procession of traffic heading downtown. When we were stopped by a red light I leant forward and noted the licence number, congratulating myself that at least one of my objectives had been achieved.

We drove on until Gloria’s automobile pulled over, stopping outside the entrance to a large hotel. I directed the cabbie to pull over also. My client alighted and gave the keys to an attendant who proceeded to take her car around to the parking lot. Meanwhile the blue sedan had driven past and disappeared down a side street. Everything happened at once and I hesitated before giving the instruction to follow it. By the time I’d told my driver to go after the blue vehicle it was too late. It had vanished! Inwardly cursing my slow-wittedness, I paid off my driver, asking him to return just before the time the dance was expected to finish. Hopefully I could repeat the tailing exercise on the return journey with better success.

I walked back to the hotel and slipped inside. I went towards the dancehall to find my client and was confronted by the lady herself. Gloria Simpson, widow of this parish, was dressed for a dance and made quite an impact on the eye. She had spared no effort in readying herself for the event. Her hair and make-up were flawless and the petticoated skirts of her tea-length dress stood out in a style reminiscent of the fifties.

Glorias’s mind, however, was clearly focussed on the task she had set me. She accosted me directly with a “Well, did you see who it was?”

I had to reply in the negative, and my answer was met with a frown.

“But… we have gained confirmation that you are being followed, and… more to the point, I did get the licence plate.”

The woman’s disappointment was softened by the last part of my declaration. She smiled again and it was as if the sun had emerged from behind a forbidding cloud. “That’s good!” she exclaimed with, I was touched to perceive, an almost childlike expression of happiness.

“Also, I plan to continue the investigation when you drive back, Mrs Simpson. I will be able to see where the car heads after you reach home.”

“That’s also true… Jennifer” she beamed. “Well done. I think you should call me Gloria, now. I’m very happy that you are on the case and are getting such quick results.”

“I’d better find somewhere inconspicuous to wait until you are ready to leave.” I made to go, but my client stopped me.

“Oh, do you have to. Don’t you dance?”

“Oh, yes, when I get the chance, but now would not be a good time.”

At this she pouted. “I was hoping you might take me for a spin around the floor. I love this melody. Nobody will be here as early as this, so I won’t have a partner to dance with for ages yet. What do you say?”

My mother had been insistent that both my brother and I took dance lessons when we were small. I wondered if I could remember anything I’d learnt back then. Against my better judgement I allowed myself to be persuaded.

“I guess it won’t do any harm. Perhaps we may do just one dance. I suppose that if anybody notices us it will look like we are just two early birds waiting for our partners.”

My misgivings remained. My short skirt would probably not be deemed appropriate wear for the opulent surroundings, at least not for an afternoon tea dance, but no one seemed to be paying us any attention. My prospective partner removed her wrap and glided towards me. Her figure was shapely but very slim, much slenderer than my own swelling curves. When she came into hold, she felt as light as a bird on my arm.

I pressed her against me as I’d been taught in dance class and set off nervously. Through my flimsy miniskirt I could feel every movement of her body against me. lithe and sinewy. After a few steps I realised that this woman would always be a joy to dance with. Her responses to my hesitating leads anticipated what I’d intended, making us seem to move as one. The whole experience was quite wonderful, and I revelled in it. The many folds of her petticoats seemed to envelop me and every breath of air I took in seemed to be filled with her perfume. Before the music came to an end, I had become lost in the moment. I was smitten.

The experience was quite sensual and after our second dance it was with great reluctance that I broke away. Observing the pouty expression of disappointment on my dance partner’s face, I had to insist “This is really not a good idea.” One of us had to exercise some caution!

“I guess!” came Gloria’s sulky reply. It gave me a little thrill to know that the lady had enjoyed our dances as well as I.

I took leave and returned to the hotel lobby where I ordered myself a coffee to pass the time. No-one seemed to pay me any notice. It was over an hour later when some of the dancers started to emerge from the hall and disperse. I took the hint and went to avail myself of my cab, only just in time. Gloria left the hotel moments later. The attendant brought her car around and she drove off.

I asked my driver to wait a few moments as before, then directed him to follow. We nearly lost sight of the Buick before we got going but that was all to the good, I calculated. The length of the gap between the cars would make the connection between us less obvious. In this fashion, we drove all the way back to the mansion. However, it appeared that I was to be disappointed. No dark blue sedan came within view. Disconsolately I asked the driver to take me to the office, alighted there and paid him off. At least I had the number on the licence plate.

When Guy telephoned, I supplied him somewhat breathlessly with a full account of the day’s events. To my intense irritation there was a patronising tone to his voice as he responded. It was as if my actions were dismissed as those of a novice, which of course I was, though one who was keen to prove herself of value. The man clearly didn’t see any significance in what I had accomplished. However, at least he was able to advise me how to trace the licence plate. His parting shot didn’t make me feel any happier.

“Trust you to get entangled with a merry widow” he quipped. “She must be quite something in the looks department. Be seeing you!”

I tried to ignore the remark, but the jibe stung. There was one observation I’d made that I hadn’t mentioned to Guy but if I was correct, Gloria was indeed quite something. My belief was that she was in fact a ‘he’! Like myself, or so I reckoned, she was transgender!

Chapter 6 – Breaking ground

It was with some small sense of unease that I entered the Simpson mansion the next day. I knew that what I had to report would be unwelcome to my client’s ears and I was proved correct in that surmise. As soon as I told her, Gloria’s expression changed from the sunny smile that had welcomed me to a forbidding frown.

“What do you mean the licence number is untraceable?” she stormed. “This is hopeless. All your efforts have so far come to naught, except, no doubt, to leave me with a large bill.”

“The licence plate doesn’t exist. It’s a fictitious one.” The black look I got in response prompted further elucidation. “Don’t you see what this means? Whoever is tailing you is taking steps to conceal their identity. It means they have something to hide.”

“And how is that supposed to make me feel any better?”

“I guess it won’t” I admitted meekly. “But it has removed any doubt that you are doing the right thing in taking the matter seriously. It can also give us hope that when we do get to know who they are, the purpose behind their following you may be self-evident. Let’s examine any possible whys and wherefores a bit further. Tell me a little more about your life, before you came here. Where exactly did you live?”

The name of the county she mentioned didn’t mean anything to me. “Our ranch was an hour’s drive upstate from here, way up into the mountains” she clarified. “So peaceful, and the air was so clean and fresh. Just being there made one feel good to be alive.”

Today Gloria was all in pale blue. The hue of her dress with its sheer top and frothy floral skirt was complemented by her shoes and nail polish. The colour went well with her hair.

Gloria continued. “We had 150 acres of the most wonderful land. Arthur… that’s my husband, God rest his soul… Arthur kept a few ponies for the guests to ride, and I had Sally, that was our goat, and some poultry, so we had milk and eggs whenever we wanted.”

The image of my pampered client living that rustic life out in the sticks jarred somehow. “It sounds idyllic. Why did you leave, may I ask?”

“His health began to decline. He couldn’t keep the place up and it was too big for me to manage by myself. Benson the cook and our housekeeper Millie always needed some kind of attention or other from us. We’d made our pile, so we sold up and came back to live here. But…” Gloria stifled a sob. “It wasn’t to be.”

I kept a respectful silence while she recovered herself.

She dabbed her eyes. “Silly of me.”

“Not at all. You must have been very close.”

She smiled. “You can’t imagine. And I owe everything to Arthur, simply everything. He made me…” she shrugged her slender shoulders. “… what I am.”

“Are you okay to go on?”

Gloria nodded.

“You mentioned visitors. Was that… friends who called or…?”

“Some we regarded as friends, they stayed so often, but in general they were paying guests, usually weekenders. What we offered was a different experience. We provided a place of relaxation, of refuge, a haven where people were allowed to be themselves.”

“And did their visits always end amicably? Did anyone leave on bad terms?”

Gloria smiled proudly. “Never, I’m glad to say, though the ranch operated for quite some time. In the last five years, all the time I was there, I cannot recall a single quarrel.”

That seemed to put an end to that line of enquiry, but I was intrigued. “What kind of people?”

“Men from every walk of life, some of them high in their profession, others with inherited wealth. They all had this in common; money wasn’t an issue for them” she giggled.

“It must have been quite a remarkable place.”

“Gloriana’s was what Arthur named it, after me! He was always thoughtful like that. I guess it was unique in its way. It was quite something.”

“Do you mind if I interview your staff, so as to be really thorough? There might be something they have noticed, you never know.”

“Help yourself. There’s only Millie left here now. She’s my maid of all work and has been with me years and years. She lives here and has her own room and everything. She is, of course, very loyal but I doubt whether she can tell you anything. Her memory isn’t what it used to be.”

When I took leave, I found the maid dusting in the hall. She made to open the door for me.

“It’s Millie, isn’t it.”

She assented with a smile. The creature was very tall, and it was hard to guess her age. Her hair was streaked with grey and drawn back unattractively into a tight bun. She wore ugly wire-rim spectacles and her overall appearance was made more severe by the absence of even a hint of make-up. For the briefest instant her eyes swept down to my shoes and back up again. Though the woman’s demeanour remained utterly respectful, I was aware that I had been critiqued from head to toe and, worryingly, I was unsure how favourable the outcome of that appraisal had been. Perhaps the little dress I had chosen to wear that morning was a trifle risqué for daywear. It was short and certainly showed some cleavage, to advantage, I thought! Guy had indicated that I ought to dress up a trifle, and this had been my response. My confidence was dented but with an effort I ploughed on.

“Can I ask you a couple of questions, please? I’ve checked with Mrs Simpson that it’s okay.”

“Sure thing, miss. You had best come into my parlour.” She led the way into an anteroom.

When we were seated, I began. “I understand that you have worked for Mrs Simpson quite a long time?”

“I worked for both of them” she corrected me sharply, and as I thought, needlessly. Did I detect an undercurrent of resentment here?

“Yes, I meant both.”

“A good many years, as private secretary to Mr Arthur and as housekeeper. He always turned to me first when he needed anything. He called me his port in a storm.”

“Were you with them at the ranch, then, at Gloriana’s?”

“It was only called that in the last year, after he married her.” There was a heavy emphasis on the final pronoun which conveyed volumes. “Before that it was known as Rancho Santa Teresa, a much better name in my opinion. Flora (that was the cook) and I managed everything between us back then.”

It was clear that the undercurrent was more in the nature of a fast-flowing tide. Her answers did not sound very much like those of a loyal employee to me. I sought to find a way to turn the stream to my advantage.

“That surprises me. I understood that they been long married when Mr Simpson passed.”

“They had been together for some years but unmarried... until it became possible.”

I assumed she meant until a divorce came through, but had there been another obstacle to their union? Before I could ask her to clarify she continued “That’s all ancient history, of course, and poor Mr Arthur is here no longer. This tailing business you are looking into, I’ve seen nothing of it. Mrs Simpson has returned here a little flurried on a couple of occasions and that’s all I’ve observed. I reckon she has been imagining things, and not for the first time.”

“Oh no. We can be sure it’s real enough. A car has definitely been following her.”

Mollie bridled at being contradicted. “Well, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything more. Now if that’s all, I have work to do.”

The woman stood up and with little ceremony showed me out.

As I walked to my car, I had the uneasy feeling that I’d missed an opportunity somehow. I would have to say as much to Guy when he telephoned me. The thought of confessing my lack of success was irritating. Highly irritating!

I hadn’t been in the office many minutes when the phone rang. Feeling hot, tired and more than a little confused, I’d collapsed anyhow into the nearest chair, loosened the top of my dress and tried to unwind. I’d been about to shut up shop for the day, when the instrument sounded. I heaved a reluctant sigh and picked up the receiver.

Chapter 7 – Under the radar

When I spoke into the telephone, my lackadaisical “Abacus Investigations. How can I help?” provoked a rebuke.

“Will you even want to? I can tell your heart isn’t in it. Try again!”

I was too dispirited to think of a riposte. “It hasn’t been a good day” I complained.

“I disagree.” Guy sounded jubilant. “My investigation here is all wrapped up except for one or two loose ends. I ought to be back by tomorrow evening.”

That at least was welcome news. “Oh, thank goodness. I think I’m out of my depth here.”

I recounted the steps I’d taken to unravel the mystery surrounding my own case and my findings so far. They made a pitifully small list. I had hoped to be able to demonstrate that, left to my own devices, I was a capable investigator, but to no avail. I couldn’t help sounding as downcast as I felt.

Guy, on the other hand, was ebullient. “Buck up, Jennifer. From where I am sitting, you have made solid progress. You’ve established that the threat to the client is not imaginary as I had reckoned it to be and you have got to first base with the woman and her servant. Instead of a penniless widow, she appears to be something of a wealthy socialite, which is all to the good. Interestingly her maid seems to have some kind of axe to grind with her mistress. Now! What are your next steps?”

His summary of my results sounded to have much more substance than my own assessment and I was encouraged enough to take a stab at improvising a suitable response to his question.

“I was thinking of checking out that side street from where the sedan emerged. Gloria is due to go out again tomorrow morning. If I drive past the place a little earlier, I ought to notice anything there is to see.”

“It’s Gloria now, is it?” he laughed. “That’s okay, but haven’t you wondered how that car so often happens to be in the right place at the right time? It can’t be coincidence. Don’t you see the significance of that?”

Under my mentor’s questioning, the answer seemed obvious. “They must know when she’s going out in advance. Someone must be tipping them off.”

“Smart cookie! And who is favourite for that little piece of skulduggery? That’s right. Your friend, Millie. Food for thought.”

It sounded so simple when he provided the explanation.

“Your plan has merit, however. If you do find the car waiting there, don’t get too close. And I have a little piece of kit you might find useful in that regard. In the lower left drawer of my desk, you will find a hard-back book and what looks like an ordinary black purse. Neither of those are ordinary items. Each contain a hidden camera. I suggest you carry the purse with you tomorrow. If you can do so surreptitiously, see if you can’t grab a snapshot. Then your friend, Gloria might be able to identify her stalker.”

“Got it!”

“Good. Take care you don’t attract any attention. If there is an inside informant, the driver might have got to know that you’re on the case so don’t let the Simpson woman know in advance what you are intending to do. Careless talk…”

I saw the danger but before I could query how best to handle it, he rang off with his customary abrupt “Be seeing you!”

I next spent some time examining the purse with its concealed camera. It looked simple to use but no amount of scrutiny was able to solve the problem facing me, and it was a biggie. I was unsure whether I had a pair of shoes that would go sufficiently well with the purse. Ridiculous though it was to be worrying over such a trifle, my years of modelling work had taken their toll. To my fashion-conscious mind, if I were to pass as a modern girl about town, avoidance of such a basic style blooper would be vital!

What else to wear? A robust get-up would be advisable for this expedition, something which had stamina, but here my choice was limited. Most of my clothing was more suited to my previous job as a hostess and tended to be very feminine in style, often fabricated with flimsy impractical fabrics. I recalled, however, that I’d bought a black leather skirt some time back and had never worn it. That ought to serve my purpose… if it fit me, that is. Accordingly, when I got back to my apartment, I drug out the said article of apparel from the back of my closet and tried it on.

The little thing was shorter than I remembered, a good deal shorter. It was tight over my thighs and butt and proved a struggle to squeeze into. No longer girlishly slender, my figure had grown with my increasing maturity. Furthermore, since my enforced exit from witness protection, I’d resumed the regimen of hormones and waist-training to which my body had been subjected in my formative years. The overall result was that I had as ample curves below the waist as those above it. It was with relief that there was just sufficient stretch in the leather to accommodate my more ‘womanly’ roundness. To complete the outfit, I chose a long-sleeve sweater, fairly inconspicuous, or so I thought..

There! I was ready but there remained a difficulty. My automobile was an open-top sports car of uncertain vintage. It had been Jennifer’s very first vehicle and my pride and joy. She had even come with a name, ‘Athena’. After my daughter had been born, she no longer met our needs but rather than sell my cherished set of wheels I had surrendered her to a friend for safe keeping. This was my erstwhile agent from whom I’d originally bought the car in the first place. I knew she valued the little gem as much as I did.

After my unceremonious exit from witness protection, I ridden north with the objective of retrieving my little two-seater from storage. My expectation had been that she would have been stowed away with meticulous care and in this I’d found that my confidence in my friend had not been misplaced. The engine started on the button with no fuss at all. I had driven away feeling that a welcome ray of sunshine had penetrated what otherwise appeared to be a dark and dangerous world. I’d felt like singing. I was mobile again!

For my immediate purpose of tailing the suspect sedan, however, it was obvious that Athena would be much too conspicuous. I was reluctant to take another taxicab as doing so would impair my flexibility of movement, therefore needed a more discreet means of transport. When I had mentioned this little problem in the course of my phone call with Guy he had come up with a simple solution.

“Take my truck” he’d advised. “It’s parked up behind the office, and you will find the keys in my desk. It may not boast much in the way of style but will be exactly what you need to stay hidden below the radar.”

My heart had sunk on hearing these words. Even while thanking my boss for his help, I recalled the occasion when I’d borrowed one of Guy’s vehicles before. The experience had been less than inspiring and when I viewed his pick-up the following day its appearance confirmed my fears. It was an ancient model whose paintwork was faded and pitted in many places. Grudgingly, however, I had to admit that in essentials it seemed in good shape and once behind the wheel I found the vehicle to have a powerful engine. The motor purred quietly and the truck proved capable of a startling turn of speed.

In Guy’s estimation, that his old crate was not in the least eye-catching had been an advantage, and as I drove downtown I was forced to agree. It blended well into the background, so I could expect to remain unnoticed. I drove to the side street from which I’d seen the sedan emerge the previous day and turned into it. The blind alley along which I found myself progressing was entirely empty of blue sedans. I parked up at the farthest end and awaited events, positioning the vehicle so that I had a good view of the whole street in the rear-view mirror.

At least half an hour remained before the appointed time for Gloria’s planned trip out. There was little traffic and the minutes passed slowly, but gradually they ticked away, and my patience was at last rewarded by the appearance of a long dark blue shape. The suspect sedan! It turned at the other end of the cul-de-sac and came to a halt facing the exit. Now we were both playing the waiting game. Here at last was the opportunity I’d been hoping for.

Chapter 8 – Walk on by

Taking the camera purse in hand, I slid cautiously out of the truck’s cab and closing the door gently behind me I began to walk slowly towards the dark blue automobile. My heels seemed to clatter inordinately loudly in the still morning air. Soft soles would have been better suited to this sort of enterprise. I passed a hardware store, ignoring but very conscious of the protracted stares of the shopkeeper who was standing in its doorway. Seconds later I was disconcerted to hear a low wolf-whistle behind me. It seemed that as a means of avoiding undue notice, my choice of clothing had failed at the first hurdle and the deliberate grin across the face of a delivery boy who passed me on his bicycle confirmed that conclusion. I began to rue the unfortunate choice of such a tight little skirt. The old saying came to mind that the only thing worse than being looked at was not being looked at, but that didn’t apply in my situation!

However, there was no other option for me but to carry on regardless, unless I was to give up the attempt entirely, and I might not get a better opportunity. I walked on. When I got level with the waiting sedan I sauntered past it as casually as I could, trying to pretend it wasn’t there. I even turned my head away when I reckoned I was level with the front passenger door so when I clicked the camera’s shutter release, it was more in hope than in confidence.

With my head averted, a quick sideways glance was all I could manage. What I was able to observe was that the front seat of the car held a single occupant, but unfortunately, he was seated on the opposite side. The opposite side! In a flash I recognised my blunder and mentally berated myself for acting like a complete beginner! The photograph would show nothing useful. I ought to have walked past on the driver’s side!

All might not be lost, however, provided I could find a pretext for making another attempt and if there was time. There was a drug store at the street corner where it intersected the main drag. I went inside and selecting a copy of Vogue from the magazine rack and trotted across to the desk to pay. To test my patience, the old woman behind the counter was heavily engaged in a heart-to-heart with an elderly couple who were ahead of me. I stood behind them in ill-concealed agitation, trying to remain calm but aware that with every passing second my quarry might take flight. The minutes ticked by relentlessly. In the end I gave it up and returning my magazine to its place in the rack, I ran out of the door. A rapid glance told me that my anxiety had not been justified. The sedan was still in its place. I resumed my leisurely pace, crossed the street and, with head in air, strolled towards the suspect vehicle once again.

My heart was pounding as I neared my target. When I passed it on this occasion, I was able to gain a better impression of the guy behind the wheel. Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed an overweight balding individual, as, at what I judged to be the correct moment, I pressed the shutter release. Praying I’d got it right this time, I strolled casually on. It was hard not to quicken my pace. When I reached my waiting truck, I allowed myself to turn and look back, only to discover how fortunate I had been, for of the dark blue sedan there was now no sign. That was okay. When I saw Gloria next, she would no doubt report that she had been followed again but I could hope that I was now in possession of an all-important clue which would reveal the identity of her tail. With that information I ought to be able to make some real progress.

I drove to the restaurant where she had told me she planned to meet a society friend and settled down to wait for her to emerge. To occupy the hour or so of expected inactivity I sat in the cab and munched on a sandwich I’d bought at a stall nearby. It didn’t taste great, but I was ravenous. I had only just finished my impromptu lunch and had begun to wonder how long a vigil I was in for when my client’s car made its appearance. The red Buick disappeared at a rate of knots before I even had time to start my engine. Worse, in my excitement I had carelessly parked my truck facing the wrong way for me to follow her!

There was no help for it. Thankful for the substantial build of my borrowed pickup I dragged it around in an impromptu U-turn, the tyres screeching in protest. My manoeuvre drew forth an angry blaring of horns from drivers who had been compelled to take avoiding action, but I ignored their protest and started off in pursuit of my chase. Though the Riviera was out of sight, I could hazard a guess at its likely route and if I threw caution to the winds, I’d likely catch it up before long. My reckless driving eventually paid off. I didn’t get pulled over by a cop, happily, and before long was rewarded by the sight of a familiar dark blue shape two cars ahead. Craning my neck, I could see the Buick beyond it. I moderated my pace and followed, making sure that there was always one vehicle in between the sedan and my truck. A grey station wagon obligingly seemed to be going the same way as our procession so thankfully I tucked in behind that.

On reaching the Simpson residence, Gloria turned into her driveway, but her tail continued past and I followed. After a mile or so the sedan took a sudden left at a stoplight followed by the grey vehicle. By the time I reached the turn the light had changed to red. I tapped the steering wheel impatiently until the green showed again when I made to follow. Now the sedan was out of sight so from now on all that remained was guesswork. I had entered the older part of town where tired shop fronts crowded the overgrown sidewalks. I drove around the area aimlessly for some time and was about to give up the hunt altogether when I spotted the sedan. It was parked up outside a three-storey building. Judging from the stack of nameplates I could see by the entrance door the edifice was home to the offices of an extensive range of enterprises.

I pulled over beyond the building and walked back, pausing as I passed the place and with as casual an air as I could assume ran my eye over the names. None meant much to me though a few of the plates bore some kind of qualifying sub-title. A dental surgeon, a clairvoyant and a loans-company apparently operated within those walls, among many others. The phrasing of the last plate caught my eye as being rather humorous, ‘Price Inquiries’. The price of what, I wondered! I was reluctant to linger, so feeling somewhat discouraged, I walked back to the truck.

I really needed to find out what my suspect looked like before I could make any real progress. As Guy was due to return today, I could count on his expertise to make prints from the photos I had taken. Some solid results might then fall within our reach.

To my relief, my employer was already there when I entered the office. I was delighted to see him and tried to believe he was pleased to see me. He greeted me in his usual laconic way. “You’re dressed to the nines. Going somewhere special, were we?”

I assumed he was referring to my tight little leather skirt. “No, just my working clothes” I corrected him stiffly, head in air.

His eyes twinkled as he shook his head sadly. “I guess.”

More out of politeness than curiosity I asked him about his own investigation. As he had indicated, it was essentially complete, but the few loose ends that remained to be tidied up seemed to have grown in magnitude, and he would be engaged thus for another day. When, eventually, he asked about my case, I was almost bursting to tell him everything. Without ceremony I blurted “I managed to get a couple of shots of the stalker. Can you show me how to develop them please?”

The next half an hour we spent so occupied. With the windows blacked out and the room illuminated by a single red bulb, my boss processed the film while I watched. It was spooky to see the prints emerge as the developing solution washed over them. Finally!

After washing them in the fixing solution, Guy picked one up and hung it to dry, then the other. “Open the blinds” he instructed me.

Once my eyes were accustomed to the light I scanned the prints anxiously. The results were mixed. The first one I’d taken was hopeless. Not only was the subject obscured by being seated on the far side of the car but the camera had been pointed into strong sunlight. Another basic mistake! Nothing could be made out at all. The second snapshot was better. Though the driver’s head had been turned away, the profile of his face could clearly be made out.

“So that’s the stalker! Will Gloria recognise him?” I wondered aloud.

“It’s possible but I’d be very surprised” Guy’s answer deflated my recently awakened hopes. “But no matter. I actually know the man myself. He used to work in the agency too although in a different team. Some years before I did, he left to set up as a private investigator. I’ve come across him now and then since. He takes the sort of work I don’t touch, divorces and that kind of thing.”

“Well, what’s his name?” I asked breathlessly.

“It’s Ray. Raymond Price.”

The penny dropped. “Price Inquiries!” I cried triumphantly. “I know where his office is.”

Chapter 9 – A discovery

“I’ve seen his office building” I repeated.

“Then you should go and see him and find out what the son of a gun is up to? Give him my best when you do. First, some refreshments would be nice but hurry! Then you might catch him in.”

I needed no second urging. Ignoring the impulse to suggest he get it himself, I made my boss a coffee while he sat back and enlarged on his thumbnail sketch of his ex-colleague’s character. It seemed a long time since lunch so as I bustled about I nibbled some biscuits. Then, although the pangs of hunger had hardly been blunted, I grabbed my purse and with a hasty “See you tomorrow!” sallied forth from the office. I ran down the stair and out to where my two-seater was parked up.

After Guy’s cumbersome pickup it was a joy to be driving my familiar little sportster again. I deftly threaded my way through the end of day traffic and in ten minutes, I was outside the building I’d visited earlier. I hastened inside and examined the names on the wall of the lobby. Price Inquiries was on the second floor. The elevator was signed Out of Order and as I mounted the stairs, I had leisure to wonder what I was going to say when I interviewed the private eye. How would he respond when I questioned him?

I was destined never to know. I reached the second landing and paused to get my breath before walking down a short corridor. The building seemed deserted. No lights were on in the rooms I passed before I reached the object of my quest, but the sleuth’s office was illuminated. The man’s name was stencilled onto the frosted glass, and the door itself stood ajar. I tapped on the pane and called “Mr Price”.

There was no reply. I tapped again and gently pushed the door wide. As it swung open it revealed the figure of a portly bald-headed man seated behind a metal desk. He looked surprised to see me. His eyes started from his head and his mouth gaped. Then I noticed a neat round hole in his forehead from which a dark trickle emerged. Blood!

I was far too late to interview this particular private eye. Raymond Price was dead!

The year was turning out to be a bad one as far as gun crime was concerned. It had been only a matter of weeks since Bobby Kennedy had been shot, just after my twenty-fifth birthday. The news had come as a stunning body-blow, following as it did Dr King’s killing earlier in the year. We were all horrified when we heard of it and now to come face to face with the reality of violent death was an emotional shock for which I was unprepared, even after my witnessing the murder of the policeman not to mention my more recent near brush with mortality. Though I had not as much as spoken to this latest victim I was profoundly affected. It was all I could do to stop myself dissolving into tears.

I tried hard to get a grip on myself and think rationally. I knew I ought to inform the police of the death but how best to go about that was unclear to me. What was paramount was that my undercover identity must remain secret and that made me doubtful of the advisability of getting officers of the law involved. Now, more than ever, I needed the guidance of my mentor. I felt sure that he would know what I had best do. I grabbed the telephone from the desk and dialled the office number, praying that Guy was still there. When he picked up the receiver I could almost have wept with sheer relief.

“Guy? Thank heavens! I don’t know what to do. I’m at Raymond Price’s office and he’s just sitting there. I mean I found him here and he’s dead, shot I think. Of course he’s been shot. You can see…” I sobbed incoherently into the mouthpiece.

My superior interrupted my babble of words. “Jennifer, calm down. You must stay calm. Listen to me, okay?”

“Okay” I sniffed.

“Good. You are sure the man is dead.”

Hesitantly I went over and felt for a pulse. There was none. “Yes” I faltered.

“Now you need to get right out of there but wait. First, you must wipe off everything you have touched, desk, doorknob, telephone. Think carefully. Can you do that?”

“I… I think so.”

“Good girl! Now, can you see a gun anywhere?”

I looked desperately about me. Finally, I saw it, a stubby little revolver. “Yes, it’s on the floor here. It’s quite small.”

“Small? A lady’s gun!” He sounded startled. “Okay. Have you anything so you can pick it up without touching it? A towel, a handkerchief, anything?”

“I g… guess, b… but…” I stammered. I was horrified at the idea. Surely, I ought not to move it.

“Do what I say. Now wrap it up and put it in your purse.”

With extreme reluctance I obeyed. “Okay!”

“Now, you wipe everything off and get out of there. Try not to be seen leaving. You can stop at a pay phone on the way back here and call the police. Don’t give your name. Just say you want to report a murder, where it is, and hang up. Then come right here”

I followed Guy’s instructions to the letter. I scanned the street cautiously before stepping out of the building. I rued my decision to travel in my natty little two-seater in which I would be all too conspicuous, but there was no-one about. I would have to trust to luck. Finding a public telephone was easy enough, however. There was one a couple of blocks away. I somehow managed to stammer out my piece and then put the receiver down directly. That ordeal completed, I drove on, slowly, trying vainly to quiet my nerves.

I was still shaking when I reached the office and entered it to find Guy pacing the floor. I found it strangely gratifying that he was so concerned… about me? Perhaps he did feel something for me after all... I was too upset to explore that line of thought, however. I sank into a chair and dissolved into floods of tears.

What I needed desperately was a hug, a simple hug to quell my upset nerves, but instead of giving me the physical comfort I craved, the man just stood there regarding me uncertainly, as if I might be about to shatter into a thousand pieces. When I didn’t, he gingerly picked up my purse and opened it. He extracted the gun from it by sliding a pencil into its barrel. He held the weapon with extreme care while making note of the serial number stamped upon it. Observing these actions through my tears I felt more than a little piqued to see that the ex-agent’s mind was focussed on his examination of that wretched object. Apparently, my feelings were immaterial!

Soon, however, I made a serious effort and began to recover, scolding myself that this was no behaviour for a budding private eye. I watched, fascinated, as Guy methodically retrieved a leather case from a desk drawer and took from it a brush and a jar of black powder. He put on rubber gloves and laid the sidearm on a clean cloth. My distress receded from my mind as I watched him proceed to dust for fingerprints. By the time he had done I had nearly forgotten my tears. A momentary impulse to indulge them again in the hope of manufacturing some sympathy from my companion came to me, but I sternly pushed it aside as unworthy. No doubt the attempt would have been futile in any case! Instead, I gave vent to my overriding curiosity.

“Are there any prints?” I asked breathlessly.

My boss shook his head. “Nary a one! Either it’s been wiped clean or the assailant wore gloves.”

The negative reply made me feel a bit better about having agreed to tamper with the evidence of a murder case. I’d known that was very wrong. Such practice had been universally condemned in every crime movie I had seen.

He sniffed the barrel and sprang open the chamber, then snapped it shut again. “It’s been fired. One round.”

Business-like as ever, Guy picked up the telephone and dialled a number. When he was connected, the conversation lasted for some minutes. I couldn’t hear everything that was said but I gathered enough to know that he was asking for the gun to be traced. “I’ve called in a favour” he told me as he put the receiver down. “Now we wait.”

I had recovered my composure by this time. While we sat in silence, I chided myself that my earlier breakdown had been beneath me. Minutes passed slowly before the instrument rang. Guy picked it up and listened attentively, signing off with a muted “Thanks buddy. I owe you!”

“I half suspected this.” The former agent shook his head, then continued “Which is why I had you bring the gun away with you. Strictly illegal of course, but we don’t want cops crawling all over us. This gun is registered to a certain Mrs Gloria Simpson.”

I stared at my lead investigator in shock. “Gloria! No, I can’t believe it. Why…? How…? Does she even know this Mr Price?” I wanted to be reassured that my client could not be responsible for this awful crime and despairingly clung to that belief. It may have been irrational, but then weren’t detectives supposed to be guided by gut instincts? It was time I paid attention to my own, I told myself.

“That’s something we have to find out. It’s not looking good for friend Gloria, but we’re not paid to build a case against our clients. The cops will do that without our help!”

He mused for a while before speaking again. “Now, while you were out, another case has come in. It’s a high profile one which will drag me away for a few days and I haven’t finished my last one either, so unavoidably this investigation will have to be solely your pigeon. Go cautiously. It’s now a murder rap and I don’t want you getting in over your head.”

I was glad he hadn’t said that he was going to take charge. After all, this was my very first case. I desperately wanted to solve it myself.

As I drove in to my workplace the next morning, I sought to determine how best to continue with the inquiry. In the end I decided that my most urgent need was to check out my client’s back story. There were too many unknowns there for me to have confidence that she was innocent of the shooting, though I fervently hoped she would prove to be so. I didn’t stop to examine the reasons why I was so ready to leap to her defence, but somehow that was exactly what I knew I had to do.

Chapter 10 – The cook

When I reached the office Guy was already there, engaged on his new case. I was not unduly surprised to find that he had anticipated the course of action I’d planned for mine.

“By all means, interview the cook. I was about to suggest it myself” he responded when I told him what I intended. “In fact, to give you a lead, I’ve already called in another favour and requested searches. Some results have already come in, and I can tell you that there are three Flora Benson’s of about the right age who reside in this state. The closest one lives in a care home just over an hour away. I’d start with her.”

I gave him my thanks a little grudgingly. It needled me that the ex-government man was a jump ahead of me once again, but quashing my feelings of ingratitude, I lost no time in hitting the road. It was good to be out of town, cruising along the freeway in the sunshine and with a clear objective in view. A brief doubt occurred to mar my contentment. I was given to wondering whether Guy had taken an opportunity to send his inexperienced assistant out of harm’s way, but I soon dismissed the speculation as sour grapes. Here was a real chance to prove my worth.

It was mid-afternoon when I drew up outside the care home. I rang the bell and was admitted by a middle-aged bespectacled woman wearing a blue uniform. Her lapel badge bore the legend ‘Sister Marigold’, from which I assumed her to be the person in charge. I introduced myself and said who I wished to call on.

“You are here to see Flora, Miss Cartwright?” she beamed. “That’s a blessing. The poor dear hardly ever gets visitors. Time can drag so slowly for our residents, you know. While it makes little difference to some of our folk, whose days blend one with another, it is hard for those whose mental acuity is undiminished. Are you a relative?”

“I work for her former employer” I replied, hopeful that this threadbare explanation might suffice. “It would be good to chat about old times with her.”

The woman peered at me short-sightedly through her thick lenses. “Yes?” She hesitated. “Well, I feel sure your visit will make a welcome addition to her day.”

Sister Marigold led the way down a thickly carpeted corridor which opened into an extensive lounge. This large room was populated with a variety of armchairs in which a number of elderly individuals dozed. She halted in front of a frail-seeming woman who gazed endlessly through a window at the distant horizon. When she noticed us, she frowned at our approach.

“Flora, dear! Someone to visit you” the sister began.

The old lady tutted under her breath impatiently. “Thank-you Marigold. I can see that for myself.”

The woman looked uncomfortable and hesitated. “Er… yes… of course you can. Er… It’s a Miss Cartwright.”

“And hasn’t she a tongue in her head? We can manage quite well without you dithering there, thank you.”

“Well, I’ll leave you then, shall I?”

This suggestion was met by a steely glare.

With a closing “Visiting ends at 4pm” the woman walked away, an expression of relief on her face.

The old lady now gave her full attention to me. “What are you here for, Miss Carter, or whatever your name is? As you are well aware, I don’t know you from Eve. What’s your game? Speak up now!”

I decided there was only one viable course of action open to me. Tell the truth!

“My name is Jennifer Cartwright. I’m a private investigator in the employment of Mrs Gloria Simpson.”

At these words the look of recognition that fleeted across the woman’s face could not be mistaken. I’d got the right Flora Benson at the first attempt. I continued more confidently “As part of my inquiries, I need to find out something of her former life. I understand that you were the head cook at the ranch she and her husband owned, Glo…. I mean, Santa Teresa.”

“You are correct, young lady” she replied sharply “and what if I was?”

“It must have been quite a responsibility, with so many well-heeled patrons staying so often” I said, as casually as I could, but the woman bridled at the remark.

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle” she snapped. “What is that to you?”

“Well, to get a picture of the set-up there it’s essential that I talk to someone in the know. I figured you would understand better than anyone.”

She seemed a little mollified by my flattery. “That’s as maybe. I can certainly give you the low-down on that painted hussy you’re working for.” She tapped the side of her nose significantly. “If I decide I like you, that is.”

“Of course. What you tell me is entirely at your discretion. I believe Gloria only came on the scene well after you and Millie were established there. She was a relative newcomer as I understand it.”

“Too right!” Flora spluttered indignantly. “And what was she beforehand?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“Well, I’ll tell you. She was a dancer in a nightclub, if you can call it dancing. Poor Mr Arthur was besotted with her, though what he found to admire in her I can’t figure. What’s on the surface is all down to the surgeon’s knife. So many tucks and lifts she had over the years, I lost count.” The ex-cook leaned forward and mouthed “S E X” silently. “That was what the attraction was. In the end it killed him, or as good as. His heart couldn’t stand the strain and that was that.”

“I see. How shocking!”

“He should never have married her.”

“That’s what Millie believes too. She used to comfort him herself, she told me.”

“Comfort!” the woman scoffed. “I’ve never heard it called that before! Those two used to be like a pair of rabbits, and they thought no-one knew. Ha!”

I merely looked my surprise. Now Flora was in full flow, she needed no prompting from me.

“Then he brought Gloria home. Poor old Millie couldn’t compete. I thought she ought to have cleared out. That would have made Mr Arthur sit up and take notice. She was the one who was essential to the business. Finding clothes to fit the guests and showing them how to make themselves up. But she never moved away”

“Make-up?”

“Why yes. Hadn’t you realised? That was what the ranch was all about. ‘A safe haven for men to be their true selves’ or some such nonsense. Men who played at being women. I had nothing to do with that side of things. Some of them even brought their wives along. Can you believe it?”

I could, actually. It sounded nice, as I imagined the arrangement, not having to worry if anyone were to guess.

Flora seemed to have finally run out of steam. “I’ve said enough for now. You get the picture” she muttered. “Come back soon and I’ll tell you the rest. I’m tired.” She lay back in her armchair and closed her eyes. I expected her to rouse herself shortly and continue but instead her breathing became more and more regular. She had fallen asleep. It was time for me to leave.

On the way out I met Sister Marigold again. “Going, are you?”

“Yes. I thought it better. She seems to tire quickly.”

“Well, she isn’t strong, but your visit will have done her the world of good. Don’t leave it too long before you come again.”

On my return drive I had plenty of food for thought. What I had learned confirmed that I had been correct in my earlier surmise. Gloria had clearly been born a male. The feminine curves which set off her well-muscled body were doubtless no more the result of nature than were my own. Whereas my swelling bust and womanly hips and thighs had largely resulted from intensive and continuing hormone therapy, hers had been achieved at the hands of a cosmetic surgeon, supplemented, as I guessed from her physique, by rigorous exercise. I was aware of the effectiveness of the latter as it had formed part of my own feminising regimen.

Back in my apartment I felt exhausted. I gazed into the mirror as I undressed. Before I went into witness protection, I had contemplated surgery but that was to transform my body back to total masculinity, but that would never now take place. I had to accept that I would remain female in appearance for the foreseeable future, if not for life. My imagination conjured up an image of Gloria beside my own reflection. Our bodily shapes were by no means the same. Her body was shapely but sinewy and her breasts were small. They lacked the heaviness of mine, as did her bottom end. We had apparently taken different routes to the attainment of a womanly shape.

Also, it was likely that my client was free from much of my emotional baggage. The prolonged intake of hormones that I’d been fed had doubtless been responsible for the complicated nature my sexual orientation. If asked, I would have answered that I was entirely a male heterosexual and certainly I found women attractive. Occasionally, however, I found myself turned on by a man. There was no denying it and one result was that Gloria attracted me in both ways. The combination within this beautiful woman’s body was proving to be highly erotic.

I allowed myself to dwell on such thoughts as I readied myself for bed but then a cross-current disturbed the flow of these musings. A pang of guilt swept over me. I thought of my dear Rachel. I longed to be with her again, but how could I do so without putting her life at risk, not to mention that of my daughter. Reluctantly I came to the conclusion that my lustful feelings for Gloria could be tolerated in the short term. It was why Rachel and I had agreed we could see other people during our separation.

When I stepped into the office the following morning, I was just as confused, even after so many wakeful hours the preceding night trying to disentangle the complexities of my emotions. I had no intention of unburdening myself to Guy. That would have been an undertaking too close to home! How to unravel the mystery that now involved a murder which had been committed under my very nose, was what should have been concentrating my thoughts. I was finding that matter equally perplexing and that was where I would seek his aid. I had to own to myself that I needed my boss’s guidance urgently!

I was to be disappointed, however. The man wasn’t there. I could tell that the former agent had been in before me from the half-consumed cup of coffee on the side, but of my hoped-for mentor there was no sign save a laconic message on the desk. “See you later!”

Later when? Today, this week, next month? His customary vagueness jarred on my frayed nerves. He was impossible!

Left to my own devices, I reviewed the facts available and tried to formulate what seemed to be the important questions. Firstly, how had Gloria’s gun come to be found at the crime scene and was it actually used in the shooting? Why had this Ray been tailing my client whenever she drove downtown and how had he known at what times she would be travelling? Who had hired him? Why had he been killed? There were far too many unknowns to admit of any theory which would provide a tenable solution.

The only course of action seemed to be to keep on digging in the vain hope that something might turn up, something that made sense. Uncovering more of Gloria’s past was likely to be the most fruitful place to devote my efforts. It would certainly bear clarification in the light of Flora Benson’s revelations. The other source of information about the history of the Simpson household was of course the maid, Millie. I felt sure that she had more to tell and I resolved to look for an early opportunity to interview her again.

I picked up the instrument and telephoned my client. She could see me late in the afternoon. I felt better immediately. I’d made a start.

The weather was hot and humid, prompting a trickle of sweat down my back as I sat and stewed. The lack of air-conditioning in the antiquated office, adding to my discomfort, was less than amusing. Time passed slowly by. The telephone rang three or four times. I hoped each time it would be Guy but no such luck. There were some admin matters, a wrong number and a couple of marriages in trouble. I wondered how hard it would be to amend the answerphone message to include the line ‘…and no, we don’t handle divorce cases.’

Eventually the time came around for me to set off for my visit. I was wearing the briefest of denim shorts, imaginatively termed ‘hot pants’, underneath a cropped top. It was quite effective as a means of coping with the temperature and such a combination was the height of young fashion just then. I toyed with the idea of changing into something less informal but rejected it. Trying to remain cool was more important and my visit would be purely professional in nature, or at least that was my avowed intent, even if my heart was beating a little faster than normal when I rang the doorbell.

Millie answered and ushered me into the hall. The maid eyed me up and down and up again, looking somewhat askance at the sight of my tiny shorts. Her stare was sobering and I had to admit to myself that perhaps my butt was a little large these days for me to be sporting such a youthful style.

“Mrs Simpson is expecting you. She is just changing for dinner and wondered whether you would like to join her for the meal.”

I gladly assented, though I then began to wish I had chosen to wear a different set of clothes, more appropriate for such an occasion.

The maid seemed to share my view. “If you will excuse my saying, miss, this invitation was unexpected by yourself. I feel sure Mrs Simpson would be happy to lend you something to wear which is more appropriate for an evening engagement. Please allow me to help.”

I could only acquiesce.

Chapter 11 - Magnetic attraction

Millie showed me upstairs and into an empty bedroom. It had its own adjoining bathroom and like the rest of the house was expensively furnished. “If you will wait here a moment, miss.”

More than a little embarrassed by my lapse in choice of attire I waited as requested. Minutes later she returned with a dress over her arm. “I think you will find this little frock acceptable.” It looked delightful and I took it from her eagerly, glad to be able to remedy my mistake.

“It is one which my mistress is unlikely to wear again” she sniffed. “Far too young a style for her.” She handed me a pair of slip-on sandals with a “You made need these to accompany it.”

“Oh, that’s great, thanks.”

“Dinner will be on table in twenty-five minutes. Ring, if you require anything further.” Then she was gone. I’d hoped to ask the woman some questions while we were alone, but the opportunity was lost. Ruefully I washed up and checked my make-up before changing into the loaned dress. It was a pretty little thing in the palest shade of primrose. Anxious not to keep my hostess waiting, with a cursory glance in the glass, I hastened down to the drawing room.

It seemed that I was early. A large mirror occupied one wall, so I stood in front of it and had the leisure to scrutinise my image more closely. I could not but approve the maid’s selection of evening wear. The dress’s top was ornamented with intricate crochet work and its little skater skirt flared in a kittenish style which would definitely be too girlish for my client to get away with. Perhaps it was even a trifle young for my own 25 years! Who was to say?

I became aware that I was not alone. Someone stood behind me. She spoke. “If I may say so, miss, that looks perfect on you. I think it’s quite a success!”

Compliments were always welcome to my chic-obsessed mind. “You don’t think I’m too old for this. My teenage years are long gone.” I turned to face Millie.

“That’s something I would never have guessed from looking at you” she smiled. “The style is just right for you!”

“Well, it’s thanks to your choosing. You must take the credit.”

“Miss is very kind.” She gave a little curtsy.

“I’m unsure about this lipstick. Should I change it for a lighter shade?”

“Hmm” she considered. “No, not with your colouring. What you are wearing works very well.”

“You’re quite the fashion expert, I see. How did you become so knowledgeable?”

“My first job was in a beauty salon. It was a long time ago, but you never forget your earliest life-lessons.”

“I understand you used to give guidance on the use of cosmetics when you were at the ranch. That must have been quite demanding” I hazarded.

“I only instructed the clients in the basics. They were never very discerning, so it was child’s play.”

“You mean because they were male. Isn’t it more difficult to achieve a tasteful result when the subject is a man?” I expected the maid to concur with my suggestion, but without hesitation she expressed a contrary view.

“Not really! It is merely a matter of covering more imperfections than otherwise.”

“Did you enjoy life there?”

Millie thought for a while. “To begin with, I was never happier. Mr Arthur and I made the ideal team. That changed towards the end.”

“And yet you have stayed on here? May I ask why?” I expected to be met with silence on such a sensitive matter, but she seemed content to answer. My curiosity in this regard was not to be satisfied, however. As she started to reply, the door of the room opened, and Gloria Simpson made her entrance.

“Sorry for the wait.” She smiled disarmingly. “I hope you will find that it has been worthwhile!”

What could I say? To my mind she looked a million dollars. For a moment, everything else was blotted from my mind. A simple dress in a delicate shade of pink crepe material set off her slender curves. The sheerness of the fabric hinted at what it almost concealed. Without realising what I was doing I stretched out my arms in welcome and she came into them like a bird. The touch of her firm lithe body was as intoxicating as the wave of perfume which engulfed me. The embrace would have been more protracted but for the presence of the maid hovering in the background. It wasn’t only the recollection that we were not alone made me pull away. Guy’s mantra that an investigator should never get involved with a client came to my mind.

Gloria, however, was undeterred by Millie’s attendance. She grabbed my hands and standing back appraised me from head to toe. “You look wonderful” she cried. It seemed she couldn’t get enough of the sight before her eyes. The pause started to become embarrassing, until… “Let’s eat!” she cried. “Your being here has given me an appetite.” She added slyly “I’m dying to see what Millie has prepared for us now that I know what’s for dessert!”

I blushed to the roots of my hair at the suggestive implication contained in her words. Fortunately, the activity of being seated at table covered my confusion and I soon recovered my poise.

The supper which was served up to us consisted of several courses, each light and delicious, with a crisp, delicate wine as an accompaniment. I was hungry and did full justice to the food. When I started to give my client a resume of recent developments in the case, she held up her hand and forbade the discussion of any business until the meal was over. She nodded significantly in the direction of the maid who was bustling about us to indicate that the subject matter was confidential, so we chatted gaily on general things. It was as if we were old friends. It wasn’t until Millie had cleared away and left us with coffee and sweet things to nibble that we got down to business.

“Tell me everything you have uncovered” began my hostess. She grabbed my hand excitedly. “I can see that you have made some real progress just by looking into your eyes.”

“You could say that” I temporised. I hadn’t decided how much to reveal. I wanted to believe in her innocence but a doubt over her involvement in the killing lingered. “The man tailing you was a private investigator, name of Raymond Price. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Not a thing.”

“Who he was working for we don’t yet understand.”

“You say ‘was’. Has he stopped, then?”

“You won’t see anything more of him, for certain. He’s dead. He’s been found shot.”

Gloria put her hand over her mouth in shock, real or feigned I was unsure.

I continued. “We still need to find out why he was following you about, or someone else might take his place. We need to be certain of your safety. Do you own a gun?”

“A gun! Heavens, why would I have a gun? Am I in so much danger?”

“You’ve never had a gun?” I persisted.

“Oh, Arthur did buy me one when we first moved here. He felt the city wasn’t as safe as the ranch. It used to be kept in my desk drawer. I haven’t seen it recently, but I imagine Millie will know where it is.”

The statement was made so frankly that I felt I ought to believe in its truth. I steered away from the subject. “I love your house. It must have cost plenty. How many rooms does it have?”

Gloria laughed. “I remember that the realtor described it as a 12-room mansion, but I can never work out which rooms he was counting. It’s big enough for little ole’ me!”

I joined her in her gaiety. We were probably both getting a little tipsy.

“What happened to your previous property, the ranch?”

“We sold up, to pay for this place. A consortium or some such from back East bought the land for don’t ask me how much. Arthur handled all that side of things. I believe they built an equestrian centre down in the valley. It’s great riding country.”

“I can imagine.”

“I’m so glad you are handling this matter for me, Jennifer. Millie will deal with this.” She indicated the table. “Let’s go and sit.”

She took my hand and led me back into the drawing room. With a girlish giggle she pushed me down onto a couch and stood over me. As I gazed up at her I could observe something almost possessive in her manner.

It was an intimate moment. As the light caught her figure it seemed to bathe her in an unearthly glow so that to me she looked something like an angel. Through the gauzy material of her dress, I could perceive the outline of some exotic underpinnings. My awareness of what might be hidden beneath aroused me and an insane longing to take her in my arms and unwrap her beauty swept over me. My resolve to remain uninvolved weakened further as she took a step closer and our eyes locked. She clearly felt something similar. I was lost!

What would have happened next is easy to imagine, but we were interrupted. A voice as of doom broke in upon us. “Will madam want anything further?”

The spell was shattered.

The maid continued in matter-of-fact tones. “Everything is cleared away and ready for the morning.” She swept across the room and placed a brown paper shopping bag beside me. “Your things, miss, are all in here for when you want them and” turning to her mistress, “if that is all, I’m for my bed.”

“Thank you, Millie. That will do.”

“I ought to go” I exclaimed. “If I may, I’ll keep this dress on and return it when next I see you.”

“Won’t you stay a little longer?”

“I mustn’t” I replied resolutely. “Early start tomorrow.”

I rose to take leave. We embraced and she kissed me on the lips.

“Keep the dress” Gloria smiled. “I can see it was made for you. The memory of you looking like this will have to grace my slumbers tonight… in lieu of the reality. Sweet dreams!” she concluded wistfully.

Chapter 12 – The decoy

The excuse that I had given of an early start on the morrow was no fiction. I was desperate to make use of Guy’s older and wiser head to rearrange my jumble of apparently unrelated findings into some sort of meaningful order and I needed to do this before he disappeared off to pursue his own investigation once again. In deciding what to wear that morning I rather pushed the boat out. The advances made by my client the previous evening had re-awoken my vanity, I’m sorry to admit. Never far below the surface, this failing of mine was something of which I couldn’t be proud, but I’d come to accept it as part of Jennifer’s psyche. My excuse was that seeking to be admired gave some kind of outlet for my unfulfilled sexuality.

I had been able to resist Gloria’s expressions of amity only with difficulty. My libido had been aroused and still remained unsatisfied. I was as pumped as a high-pressure hydrant. To compensate for my frustration, I now needed to be found attractive; attractive to the delivery boy on his bike, to the postal worker on his round, to the traffic cop on the corner, and most of all to my boss. His apparent indifference to my charms continued to irk me!

After rejecting a number of outfits, I selected the shortest skirt in my closet. It was a skimpy little pleated affair, just about decent. Perhaps it might be suitable wear for the tennis court, but nothing else besides. I could almost hear the tutting of the local spinsters as I squeezed it over my butt. The tight-fitting top which accompanied this was in a material which was sheer enough to hint at the lingerie I wore underneath, and I had chosen a pale green set, the delicate lace of which always made me feel sexy. So attired, I felt partway satisfied. My legs looked good in pantyhose and I relished the idea of Guy trying not to stare at their over-exposed extent as we discussed my case!

These unworthy attempts to arouse the man’s interest in my limbs proved vain, however. As far as my superior was concerned, it seemed I could have worn sackcloth and saved myself the trouble. To my chagrin, he signally failed to notice my daring mode of attire throughout our conversation. Drat the man! What’s a girl to do?

When the ex-agent had been brought up to speed, he sat for some moments in deep contemplation before speaking.

“You have done very well with this investigation, Jennifer.” His words were meant to encourage. “Where do you intend to go next with it?”

I hated to admit that I hadn’t the vaguest idea, so I was spurred to suggest some kind of plan of action. “I’m intrigued by the property the Simpsons have acquired” I improvised. “That mansion must have cost a fortune, and I’m guessing the price might have been much more than what was raised by the sale of a ranch situated up in the back of nowhere. How could they afford such a place?”

“Good thinking. It’s not difficult to find out. Both transactions will have been registered” and he proceeded to tell me where I ought to inquire. He suggested that I should check the county records office for documents which related to those property transactions. “You will be able to see what moneys actually changed hands.”

That sounded simple enough, and who knew where that would lead.

“What else?” he questioned.

“How can we find out what sort of gun killed Ray Price? It’s wrong to assume without proof that it was Gloria’s.”

“It’s a long shot. It was her piece that was found there. Hmm… tricky.”

“Yes, but can we do it?”

“I’ll call in another favour. Hand me that phone.”

Ten minutes later we had the answer. “The bullet was from a 38. You know what that means, don’t you?”

My heart sank within me. “That’s the same calibre as Gloria’s gun. But when I asked her, she seemed to have forgotten it even existed. I’m sure she wasn’t pretending. I’ve got to know her pretty well.”

My mentor raised an eyebrow at this last statement and to my embarrassment I found myself colouring up.

“Also, we have no clue as to who was holding the gun” I added lamely.

Guy regarded me critically. “Don’t get too close to that woman” he warned. “She’s still the prime suspect…”

My face fell.

“…so far” he temporised. “On the other hand, don’t ignore your instincts. Sometimes, gut feel is all we have in this game.”

That made me feel a lot better. I could have hugged him, but the brevity of my skirt made me think better of it. I didn’t want him to think I was coming on to him. I mean, I wasn’t… coming on to him. Well, not really. I just liked to flirt a little, and that’s all. Believe it or not!

Another idea came to me which ought to be much more fruitful. “What we really need to know is who Ray was working for. Then we might have an indication as to why he was killed.”

“Now you’re talking! Let me see. We’ll need to search his office. That will require the both of us. The body will be in the morgue by now but while they’re still processing the crime scene there’s bound to be a guard on duty. One of us will have to provide a distraction while the other is busy. But you had got that far yourself. That’s why you’re wearing something eye-catching this morning, right?”

There was no way I was about to contradict him and disclose the real reason for my outfit! Secretly delighted that after all the man had noticed my provocative dress choices, I did my best to appear nonchalant.

We drove in Guy’s anonymous truck to the office building where Ray had met his end and parked a block away.

“You go in first” he directed. “I’ll follow in five minutes.”

To say I was feeling jittery would be putting it mildly. Not only was I reluctant to approach the scene of the murder again but the thought of confronting an officer of the law was daunting. The sound of my heels as I clopped up the stairs to the second floor echoed in my ears. The noise I was making would be bound to herald my approach and that made me feel even more vulnerable. Nevertheless, as I reminded myself, stealth was not an option. My intention was to serve as a distraction!

I turned onto the landing to see a cop on duty in the corridor leading to the fatal office. I fought to stop myself trembling, reassured to observe that our plan was starting to work. The man was definitely giving me his undivided attention. He looked me up and down and back up again till I felt like I had nothing on at all!

My nervousness must be apparent to the policeman, I realised, so I would have to come up with an explanation to account for it. Fortunately, the nature of business of one of the building’s occupants came to mind and provided me with a corker. “Oh sergeant” I began breathlessly. “I’m looking for the dental clinic that operates in this place. Can you tell me where to find it, please?”

The man drew himself up and with a final stare at my legs replied. “Sure thing, lady. It’s this way.” He ushered me back to the stairs and pointed upwards. “Next floor. You can’t miss it.”

I took a couple of steps upwards then hesitated while I had his full attention. “Oh dear. I know you will think I’m silly, but my legs are like jelly. I’m so frightened of dentists. Would you take me up there? I don’t think I can make it on my own.”

The cop grinned, letting his gaze fall to my butt which was barely covered by the skimpy little skirt I was wearing. “No problem!” he exclaimed with ill-disguised eagerness. “I’ll take you right to the door, sweetheart.”

I waited on the stair for him, coyly smiling at my would-be rescuer. I took his hand and placed it on my waist and allowed him to escort me up towards the halfway landing. I paused there. “I don’t suppose you are at all afraid of the dentist’s chair” I simpered, in my most coquettish manner.

“I can’t say as I like it ma’am, but I’m not exactly scared, if you know what I mean.”

I stepped up onto the landing and turned to face the man to fix him on the step below. His hand slid down onto my butt and I allowed it to rest there. Out of the tail of my eye I saw Guy below us padding silently upwards. He disappeared down the corridor which led to the dead man’s office, so I continued to act out my distraction.

“I don’t expect you are scared of most anything. It must be wonderful being so brave.” I place my hand on the cop’s chest and made a little circle with my fingers. “And so strong” I added.

The policeman must have been in his forties but that didn’t stop the colour rising to his face.
“Well… I don’t know about that” he stated modestly.

“It’s a pity you can’t come in to see the dentist with me” I affected a self-conscious titter. “You could hold my hand (giggle giggle)!”

“Er…” the officer was clearly out of his depth, giving me added confidence, whereas I was in my element. Flirting was my stock in trade, after all!

“But I’m taking so much of your time, when you should be out there catching all those criminals” I exclaimed admiringly. “What cases have you solved recently?”

The cop was only too happy to oblige me and started to relate an account of his most dramatic recent exploit which involved a car chase and a shoot-out. After several minutes had elapsed, I was relieved to see my boss re-emerge from the corridor and stealthily descend the flight below us. Now all I had to do was extricate myself and our mission would have been accomplished.

Easier said than done! The policeman had relaxed completely and was in full flow. The large hand which encompassed my rear end had begun to absently massage and squeeze it. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant in itself though the circumstances made it somewhat gross, but in the semi-aroused condition my libido was in I found I was actually beginning to enjoy the feeling and wanted more! Ewww! His eyes were staring fixedly on the curves of my prominent bosom which was only inches from his face. Insane impulses flitted through my brain. I needed to get out of there!

My salvation came in the shape of a craggy-faced police sergeant who appeared from below and immediately made his presence felt. “Henderson” he bawled. “What in blazes are you doing there? Aren’t you supposed to be on watch at the scene of the shooting, man?”

“Er… this young lady was lost, sarge. I was just showing her the way.”

“I can see what was being shown, thank you. Get back to your post immediately. Now miss. What have you got to say for yourself?”

“Oh, I’m just leaving, inspector. I had the most awful toothache but now it… well it seems to have gone. Your officer here has been most helpful.” I didn’t want the man to get into trouble.

“I see. Miracle worker now, are we, Henderson? Back on duty, instantly.”

The man obeyed, looking rather sheepish. I ran down the stairs, awarding the sergeant my best smile as I did so. Seconds later I was outside, tripping happily towards Guy’s waiting vehicle. As we drove back to the office, he updated me as to what he’d found.

“There was a nothing of note on Ray’s desk and the filing cabinet had been emptied, but there was a metal waste bin by it, and I found two crumpled sheets of paper, rather burnt at one of the edges. Someone was trying to dispose of them but were interrupted. They appeared to contain a list of what looked like names and dates, but the words were unreadable.”

“Illegible?”

“No, unreadable. They’re in some sort of code. It will take some time for me to crack it, I’m afraid.”

“You didn’t bring them away with you.” I was horrified, wondering how far he was prepared to go to bend the rules.

“Of course not!” He tapped his pocket meaningfully. “I’ve taken photos on my camera here. It’s a useful little thing.”

“That’s good!”

“They may hold the key to this business” he mused. “By the way, you did well with that policeman. You had him eating out of your hand.”

He couldn’t have noticed the tingling between my legs for which the encounter had been responsible. It had yet to subside and I coloured up at the thought of it. “It was his hand that was bothering me” I quipped, to cover my confusion.

We pulled up outside the office and alighted.

“Now, while I’m working on the cypher, you had better follow up on that other line of enquiry, the records office. Good luck. Be seeing you!”

Chapter 13 – Horse country

I walked across to where my two-seater was parked and turned to wave goodbye, but the ex-agent had already disappeared inside the office.

I put the irritating brevity of Guy’s farewell out of my mind and set off to make my inquiries. Though my sexy little skirt had stood me in good stead in my encounter with the horny officer of the law, it was now brought home to me how being overly conspicuous had its drawbacks too. A fitful breeze had sprung up and was playing havoc with my hemline. Before I got back in my car, I recognised that if I was to pursue my investigations without hindrance, I needed to wear something less revealing, no matter what my boss’s preferences might be.

In the end my visit to the records office turned up nothing of note. The Simpson mansion had been bought two years before and a considerable sum had changed hands. When I searched for the sale of the ranch itself, I drew a blank, but a large amount had been involved in the disposal of the land around it and amply covered the cost of the other purchase. The title to that real estate was now in the hands of Trail-to-blaze Inc., whose registered address was as Gloria had told me, back East. I came away with little result to show for my research except that I was wolf-whistled twice on the short walk from my car to the office and once again on the way back.

I rummaged in the car’s trunk to find a bag in which I had stashed a few spare clothes, kept for emergencies. I pulled out a loose sweater and a straight white skirt of a more practical length. These would definitely do the job, so I slipped back into the office and used the powder room to effect my change. My clothes were now better suited to whatever I might encounter. Pleased with my resourcefulness I got into my convertible and headed for the hills. It was time to pay Gloriana’s a visit.

It was a lovely day for a drive. The sun shone down out of a cloudless sky. I’d had this little car on and off for almost ten years now. Athena hadn’t been new when I’d bought her, but she had never let me down yet. I drove with the top down, the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. The engine sang as the miles rolled by, danger was forgotten and I had a new sense of purpose. The mountain air was intoxicating, and life couldn’t get much better.

When I reached the little town which nestled high among the foothills, the first thing I saw was a sign advertising the equestrian centre. That would be my first port of call. I followed the arrow which pointed the way and pulled up at the entrance to the driveway under the Trail-to-blaze logo. I got out to look about me. This was horse country all right.

At the end of the gravel drive was a ranch-style property that looked brand new. I would start my inquiries there. I left the car in situ and walked the distance to the door. An old-fashioned bell-pull hung on the porch, so I gave it a tug and waited. No-one appeared so I tried again. I was about to give up when a suntanned girl a few years younger than myself appeared from around the side of the building. She was wearing a stripey crop top and abbreviated jeans. Ankle boots and a cowboy hat completed her ensemble.

“You’re a-wastin’ your time there, honey” she exclaimed with a grin. “That ole rope is just for show. Come round to the side porch and I’ll let you in.”

Once inside the porch my guide turned to face me. “Now. Call me Connie. How can I help?”

“Well, Connie. I’m Jennifer. I was just passing through and saw the sign.”

“Do you ride?”

I had to give in to a falsehood here. “It’s been a long time, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to pick up again. What are the hiring arrangements?”

While Connie recounted how they ran the centre, I appeared to listen intently, though my mind was elsewhere, wondering how I could uncover whatever secrets the place might hold. She finished by listing the particulars of stabling and the guest quarters.

I thanked her and said I would contact her when next I would be free.

“No problem” she smiled. She accompanied me as I headed out towards my car.

As we walked along, I remarked as casually as I could “Say. I reckon somewhere about here must be the place where an old friend of my family used to work, Flora Benson. She was the cook there for years and years, apparently, though it wasn’t called Trail-to blaze then. It was something like Ranch St Theresa. Is this the same place? I’d be interested to know.”

The girl shook her head. “Nope. Never heard that name.” Her manner seemed to have become suddenly distant, almost wary.

“I think it was changed later on. Yes, I think it came to be called Gloriana’s right at the end.”

Connie shook her head gravely. “Sorry, no dice. You must be thinking of some place else."

I thanked her again. I took leave and got into the convertible. As I drove off, I was aware that she remained gazing after me, her curiosity clearly aroused.

I looked back after a hundred yards and she was still staring. I’d obviously touched a nerve somewhere. I took the road back through the little town and stopped at a general store. I bought some fruit and cookies and a bottle of water, then asked the woman behind the counter the same question I’d posed to Connie.

“Bull’s eye!” she laughed. “There is a place up in the hills which was called that. I believe it was the original ranch that owned the land before the riding centre was built. It’s in the middle of nowhere and is nigh on falling down. You wouldn’t think so when you see it, but it’s still occupied. A queer old soul, name of Meg Stevens, has the place and lives up there all on her lonesome. We rarely see her down here. She keeps herself to herself, but I guess she could have known your friend.”

“I might just drive on up and ask her.”

“Well, you can try. Take the old road and you won’t miss. Don’t expect any kind of welcome though. She’s not the friendly sort!”

I thanked the woman and walked back to my car. I followed her directions and half-way up the hill I stopped to eat and to consider what line I intended to pursue. I wasn’t clear what I could expect to find. It was doubtful whether this solitary woman knew Flora or not, but if she did... What if she also knew Gloria, back in the day? Finding out could make the trip a lot more worthwhile.

I got back in my two-seater and drove on. The sun was hot and the views were stunning as the old road wound up the hillside. Not far from the top I spied what I’d come in search of. In a slight hollow set back from the road was a timber building that had seen better days. This must be Gloriana’s. I parked up at the gate and got out to take stock of my surroundings.

Though the ranch house itself wasn’t particularly eye-catching, the scenery around it was breathtaking. The seclusion might not suit everyone but I could see why some folks might wish to live up here. The air was fresh and clean, birds sang, and as to the setting, words could not do justice to it.

After a final glance all around me I started off down the slope towards the old ranch, only to find I had been anticipated. The lady I’d been told about was climbing the slope towards me.

The woman was tall and raw-boned and of an age that was hard to guess. Certainly, she seemed active enough as she strode uphill, unlike the little old lady I’d been expecting to encounter.

When still some way off, she accosted me. “I seen your automobile stop up there, young lady. No visitors here, thank you, this is all private land. You’d best be on your way.” Her voice was harsh and grated on my ear, out of harmony with the idyllic surroundings. She stopped some distance from me and frowned.

“Is it Mrs Stevens?” I called.

“None of your business” came the surly reply.

“I’m inquiring about a Flora Benson” I persisted. “I believe she used to work here. With a woman called Millie.”

Dropping those names didn’t help. In fact, it seemed to create even more hostility. “There’s nuthin’ I can tell ye!” she glowered at me. “All gone before my time. You’d best be on your way. Good day to you!”

With that I was dismissed. The woman turned and made her way back to the house. Disconsolately I got back in the car and drove off. I was unhappy to have been so easily defeated so I pulled up after a few hundred yards and got out. I would see whether a more circumspect approach might yield any better result.

Stepping back up the lane as quietly as I could, I came to where a footpath led across a meadow in the general direction of the ranch. I took this diversion and trod cautiously down the path. My high heels were really quite unsuitable for this sort of trek but eventually I arrived at where a hedge of brambles hindered further progress. I picked up a stick and cautiously parted the undergrowth to be rewarded with a side view of the ranch building itself. The lady of the house was also in my field of vision.

At last I had achieved some kind of success, I reckoned breathlessly, not daring to make a sound. What could I learn about her now, I wondered? I was to be disappointed. The woman was crooning tunelessly to herself as she went about her business. Meg Stevens was engaged in hanging up the laundry to dry. Other than noting that the underwear on display was of a fancier style than I would have imagined such a rustic individual to wear, I gained nothing from my vigil. She disappeared into the building and silently I turned and retraced my steps. I was left with little to show for my efforts save some nettle rash and a muddy pair of shoes. Like the response I’d got from the girl at the riding centre, the mention of the cook’s name had provoked a very similar negative reaction. Uncanny!

Chapter 14 – The intruder

By the time I had driven back to town, I was tired and in low spirits. To make any real kind of progress in unravelling the mystery of the PI’s death seemed to elude me as much as ever. I was tempted to go straight home and soak away my weariness in a steaming bubble bath, but I knew I ought to check in at the office first, for form’s sake if nothing else. When I did so I found my boss at his desk in a scholarly attitude. Had he not moved from his task all day?

On the surface before him lay sheets of paper, each filled with pencilled lettering in neat rows, also the photostat images of the originals. A cryptographer had evidently been hard at work here. Guy looked tired but as he rose to greet me the gaze that met my own was exultant.

“Cracked it!” he exclaimed before I had a chance to speak. “It’s taken me hours but, in the end, it was quite simple; a Caesar cypher, but with an added little twist. That and the scarcity of material to work on made it a matter of trial and error in the end, but we got there.”

“What were those papers, then?”

“They’re a list containing the personal details of a number of individuals, and against each of the names are dates. I was stuck at first but then I had a eureka moment. I guessed at this double-barrelled moniker here.” He pointed. “After that, it all fell into place.”

“But what does it all mean?”

“I reckon that someone could have been operating a blackmail racket, and if it were our friend Raymond it might explain why he ended like blackmailers often do.” Guy drew a hand across his throat to illustrate his meaning, at which I shuddered. All too recently I’d seen death at close quarters, and that had been quite enough for me.

Now it was my principal's turn to be curious. “How have you got on?”

I related what I’d done that day, and what I’d discovered. The sum total seemed of little moment in my opinion, but the detective was less dismissive of my results.

“So, friend Arthur was able to raise some serious money to buy that swell place. That’s worth knowing. It saves us looking into the shape of Gloria’s finances. Also, that cook’s name seems to put the cat among the pigeons whenever it’s mentioned. I think another visit there is called for, don’t you?”

We agreed that on the morrow while Guy would research the names which he had deciphered, I would drive over to the care home and find out what else Flora had to tell. Feeling a lot more positive about the merits and demerits of my day, I took leave and headed home. Bath and bed, that was all I could think of.

When I got in I fixed myself a sandwich and ate it while drawing my bath. I felt the need to indulge myself after such a tiring day so shook a generous amount of bath salts into the steaming water. I was rewarded with at least a foot of foam. In happy anticipation I stripped off everything, pinned up my hair and plunged my limbs into the scented water. Heaven!

I lay there soaking for quite some time until I felt completely relaxed. Eventually I stirred myself enough to scrub and exfoliate. No nook or cranny was left undisturbed. When I’d done, I felt clean all over, ‘sparkling clean’, as my mother used to term it. I hauled myself out of the tub and wrapped myself in towels. The thought of my mom prompted one last ablution. I took a douche from the cupboard and filled it with warm soapy water. Soon I was ‘sparkling’ inside and out. Somehow that made my journey back to femininity seem even more complete.

Though the hour was late, fatigue had fallen from me. A curious mood had taken hold of me. I had a strange feeling that something was about to happen, and I wanted to be ready for it. I just knew someone was about to stop by and my heart beat faster as I speculated who that might be. I picked out my most frivolous nightdress, a tiny babydoll in see-through silk. It was fortunate that the pretty little set had frills and ruffles everywhere giving the wearer at least a nod to modesty.

Having robed myself in this fashion I sat before my vanity to brush out my hair and reapply my make-up. I redid my fingernails and while I waited for the polish to dry, I lapsed into a daydream. I found myself entertaining unreal imaginings which all had one thing in common. They culminated in the entrance of a seductive figure into my apartment for a late-night tryst. Gloria! Dangerous thoughts, perhaps, but not as hazardous as the reality that followed.

My nails had just dried and I was regarding them with a degree of satisfaction when it happened. There was a sound from the direction of the next room, and I felt an unexpected draught of air as if the outer door had been opened. I sprang to my feet in alarm, all thoughts of romantic meetings dismissed from my mind. The reality was that a person or persons unknown must be in my apartment.

As I stared at the door which led from the adjoining room, it began to move towards me. It had been slightly ajar but now began gradually to open wider. A gloved hand appeared in the aperture, a hand holding a black automatic. Help!

Trying my best not to panic I took two strides across the room and slammed the opening door shut on the gun-toting hand. There was a yelp of pain and the firearm fell to the floor with a clatter. I stooped to pick the thing up. It was heavy, far heavier than I would have imagined. Once I had finished juggling with it to get it safely in my grasp I shouted at the intruder “Come out, now. I’ve got you covered!”

I pulled the door wide open. There were no lights on and so that all I could see was a figure silhouetted in the outer door, making a hasty departure.

The intruder, who was enveloped in a trench coat, disappeared. Hesitating only for an instant I summoned up what courage I had, sprang across the room and crossed to the outer door. I could hear whoever had threatened me already clattering down the stairs. I began to follow but before I had taken many steps a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror at the end of the hallway brought me up short. I was in no way suitably dressed to be pursuing armed assailants late at night. As I turned to re-enter my apartment, I heard a car start and then speed off into the distance. My would-be attacker had gone.

Chapter 15 – Dead end

Guy was most disturbed next morning when I told him about what had occurred. “I don’t like this at all, Jennifer” he began. “Living on your own as you do makes you extremely vulnerable.”

Looking down at the man seated before me with his arms wide in mute appeal brought out a gush of emotion within me. I had an urge to throw myself upon his lap so that I could be enfolded in a manly embrace. I resisted the unworthy impulse of course! If only he were aware of the feelings running riot in my head. Instead, I folded my arms under my bosom and hid a smile while I responded. “I don’t think it was a real attempt on my life. I think someone was trying to scare me.”

To my mind this latest assailant had behaved not at all like a professional killer, and I had had seen at first hand that type of individual, so I was in a good position to judge. I felt reluctant to explain to my boss the basis of my surmise as it would entail going into my experiences when I was in witness protection. In any case he didn’t try and refute my argument. That the ex-agent didn’t disagree reinforced my hope that my guesswork was correct.

I continued “Now they’ve tried and failed, I should be much safer. Besides, they will know I’ve got a gun!” I said airily, extracting the bulky firearm from my purse.

“Let me see that.” The ex-agent took it from me and shook his head. “Your dabs will be all over this” he complained. “You have a lot to learn about handling guns.” As if to reinforce the point he clicked the safety catch back on.

I was unabashed. “My intruder was wearing gloves” I declared “and I was too busy disarming them to observe the niceties.”

My boss examined the piece and but unexpectedly he didn’t make a note of the number.

“Not getting it checked?” I queried. “Used up all your favours, perhaps?”

Guy didn’t laugh but shook his head. “Did you get a good look at this assailant?”

It was my turn to shake my head. “All I saw was someone wearing a trench coat disappearing through my apartment door. They had a beret pulled down tight on their head. I couldn’t even tell if it were a man or a woman, though if the former he wasn’t very big. I’ll keep this, for added protection.”

I retrieved the weapon and deposited it back in my purse which was only just roomy enough to accommodate it. Despite the cumbersome weight I would feel a lot safer. To my surprise the detective made no objection but merely gave an ironic smile.

“How did they gain entry?” he questioned.

I shrugged. “The door was locked and there seemed to have been no attempt to force it. They must have stolen a passkey, I guess.”

“I’ll call over later and talk to the janitor. He must have missed the key and might have noticed something. If you like I could stay over with you tonight.”

I was grateful that Guy was actively concerned about me but dismissed the suggestion. If the man were to stop the night with me, I wouldn’t want it to be merely for practical reasons!

“Thanks, but no need.” I tried to put on an air of confidence; one I didn’t really feel. Guy fell silent, deep in thought. I didn’t want our tête-à-tête to end but could think of no pretext for prolonging it. I shuffled my weight from one leg to the other awkwardly. “Well, I’d better get going. I have a cook to interview.”

The man made no response.

I walked to the door. “See you later!”

“Okay. Take care!”

I was able to take some comfort from his parting words by noticing that the ex-agent must have been knocked out of his stride by my adventure. He hadn’t said ‘Be seeing you’!

I had plenty of food for thought as I drove out towards the old folks’ residence. Perhaps I was overly optimistic, but last night’s attack had felt unreal somehow, as if it had been staged. For another thing, I couldn’t believe that the Persuaders gang had penetrated my latest identity. Besides, if they had, I was all out of places to go.

If I was right and my cover hadn’t been blown again, which of my recent actions had provoked someone to try and frighten me off? I racked my brains but could come up with no answer. The inquiries I’d made on this case hadn’t revealed anything threatening to anyone, as far as I could see. Or had they? Still perplexed, I arrived late morning to find the care home in as much disarray as my thoughts. When I greeted her, Sister Marigold was all of a flutter.

“Can you believe it, Miss Cartwright. Last night we had a break-in. The back door has been forced.”

“Was anything taken?”

“That’s the oddest thing. Not as far as we know. The police have only just left, and all the residents are still in their rooms. Have you come to visit Flora again? She will be pleased.”

The woman led the way down a corridor with many doors either side. She halted at number 23 and opened it to admit me. “She is still asleep, it appears. I’ll wake her.”

“Flora, dear” called the sister. “You have a visitor.”

The sleeping figure made no response, so she called again. The sleeper didn’t stir so the sister went over and gently shook her by the shoulder. No response. Marigold lifted an arm then “Oh!” she cried in alarm. “She’s icy cold.”

She paused and checked for a pulse then shook her head and tiptoed back to me.

Marigold whispered in my ear. “I believe she has passed away in the night. She was very frail, but what a thing to happen at such a time.”

Plucking up courage I drew closer to see if I could detect any sign of breathing. Flora was completely lifeless. The ex-cook would divulge no more secrets. She was stone dead.

Dear reader. Thank-you for staying with the story so far. May you be encouraged to learn that you have reached the halfway point in this tale. Keep following to hear more of Jennifer's exciting adventure!

Chapter 16 – The list

At the cursory glance which was all I had the opportunity to make I could see that there were no marks upon the dead woman’s face or arms and no sign of a struggle anywhere. She looked as peaceful as if she had indeed died naturally in her sleep, but there was no way anyone could be sure.

“How sad!” I exclaimed, and I meant it. In the brief interview I’d had with Flora her forthright personality had made a strong impression upon me. We would never continue that conversation now.

After a respectful pause, “I guess there will have to be an autopsy” I remarked to Marigold, “It’s been so sudden.”

“Surely not!” The sister visibly cringed at the mere thought. “Her state of health has been quite poor for some time.”

“It’s a bit of an ordeal, I know” I persisted “but these things have to be done.”

I tried to sound as if the matter was cut and dried but was far from assured that the procedure would take place. For now, though, the woman seemed quite accepting of its necessity. That this person should die so soon after I’d made contact with her seemed suspiciously coincidental to me, and even more so that her death occurred on the same night as an attempted break-in at the home. Though an autopsy would take some time, until one had taken place, foul play could not be ruled out.

It was well after lunch when I got back to the office, to find that Guy was not there. I assumed that he was out somewhere following up his own investigation. A note on the desk told me that before leaving he had made further progress on the decrypted list of names. The sheet of paper that was attached to it was annotated with the results of his research. It made an interesting perusal.

Against the first name he had written the words ‘district judge’ and added the place where the man served in that capacity. The second name had nothing against it. He must have drawn a blank on that one. The third was more interesting. It belonged to a member of the state governor’s staff. Next was a head-teacher and lower down the list were an attorney at law, a presbyterian minister and a gynaecologist. These findings were no doubt highly significant, but I couldn’t see what they had to do with Gloria.

It was late in the day before Guy finally put in an appearance. He looked tired and out of spirits which made me guess that his new case was not going well. My heart went out to the man in a gush of emotion. His evident vulnerability triggered another of those wild impulses, making me want to throw my arms around and comfort him. The intensity of the feeling took me by surprise. What was wrong with me, for heaven’s sake?
I managed to resist the urge with what I thought was creditable self-command.

It was easy to attribute the blame to the cocktail of feminine hormones I had resumed taking each day. As a second best, I made my principal a cup of coffee, then sat and listened attentively while he enumerated the difficulties which were currently perplexing him. Having him depend on me instead of it being the other way around was a reversal of our roles. The realisation of the deepening of our relationship subjected me to another sudden flood of warmth which made me tingle from head to toe. Help!

Fortunately, Guy appeared to be oblivious of the conflict which was taking place in my emotions. Striving to regain a hold over my feelings, I gave him all the encouragement I could. “I’m sure you will make a breakthrough before long. It’s early days. Is there anything I can do to help?”

But now that he had unburdened himself, the ex-government man seemed to recover some of his natural ebullience rapidly. “Thanks, but you’re good. Don’t trouble yourself about it” he grinned confidently. “Tell me! How did you get on when you interviewed the cook?”

“I didn’t!” At last, the opportunity had arrived for me to fill him in regarding Flora’s untimely demise and breathlessly I recounted what I’d witnessed. I went on to tell of the break-in at the home which had occurred that same night.

Unsurprisingly Guy’s view was the same as my own in that the coincidence was suspicious. “I absolutely agree with you. There has to be an autopsy, and we will have to wait for its results before matters become any clearer. I’ll give a nudge to the authorities to make sure one takes place, but it’s likely to take several weeks. In the meantime, we will work on the assumption that the old lady did not die naturally. That poses a question… why was she killed?”

“To silence her?” I hazarded. “She must have known something. Could it be because of the inquiries I was making?”

“It’s a plausible hypothesis. It might account for your own intruder too. It makes me suspect that either the girl at the riding centre or the reclusive woman at the ranch could be involved, directly or indirectly.”

“Or possibly both of them” I put in, wishing to make some kind of contribution.

“Right!” my mentor agreed. “Has Flora come up in a conversation you’ve had with anyone else?”

I shook my head. “Only Millie, but it was she who mentioned her name to me in the first place. Oh, and so did Gloria, of course.”
That recollection increased my confidence that my client might be innocent of any wrong doing. She would hardly have brought the cook to my attention if she were afraid of what the old woman could divulge.

There were so many unanswered questions that it was hard to know where to start. I observed that my companion was deep in thought and looked hopefully to him for enlightenment. When he spoke however, the result of his deliberations proved inconclusive.

“It’s all a matter of conjecture, although I feel pretty sure my guess about the blackmail angle could be right” declared Guy. “These names on the list are individuals who would have had a lot to lose if they were caught out in some kind of misdemeanour, but what kind of misdeed remains open to question. It must be something pretty serious to warrant Ray’s murder, if I’m right about blackmail being the reason for his killing.”

I didn’t disagree and I was able to add something. “I think this may be significant. See!” I pointed. “Here at the foot of the page is written in clear ‘Auros K’. If it’s someone’s name, then it’s a really unusual one, and somehow, it seems familiar.” The appellation had rung a distant bell in my memory. Though I racked my brains, I couldn’t think where I’d heard it. My interruption drew a blank with Guy who shook his head.

“No dice! It may be worth pursuing” he admitted, circling the writing in pencil. “Try and remember where you have come across it, will you?” He got up to go. “Phew. I’m beat! It’s an early night for me, I think. We’ll pick this up in the morning. Be seeing you.”

I was half-way back to my apartment when memory stirred. Some gossip about the nightclub where I’d been working came to mind. Some years before it had been subjected to a take-over bid by a pair of brothers of dubious reputation. They were rumoured to have wanted to acquire the place as a means of muscling their way into the town. In the event, the attempted buy-out had fallen through, but what stuck out in my memory was that their given names had been really unusual, Midas and Auros. Then I remembered that their surname was uncommon too, Klondyke. Surely Auros K had to be one and the same person.

I heaved a sigh. The discovery of the connection between Ray Price and the shady would-be owners of my former workplace made my puzzle no clearer. I would have to wait until morning to see what my boss made of the link. He would hopefully be able to deduce some significance from these recollections of mine.

Before he left the office my boss had repeated his concerns about the risks I was running by continuing alone in my apartment and had pressed me either to sleep at his place or to let him stay over. I’d thanked him but had dismissed both suggestions as unnecessary. Now however, I had to confess to feeling a little jittery as I climbed the stairs to the landing. As it happened there was no-one about. Having made doubly sure that my outer door was locked and bolted, I endeavoured to put my fears out of my mind. I woke in the night a couple of times and lay still for a while, listening, until sleep overtook me again, but each time I heard nothing to alarm me.

When I arrived at work the following morning, I found that Guy had already been and gone. A note told me that he wouldn’t return till the following day. That was frustrating because I wanted to get his take on what I had remembered. Moodily I resigned myself to the fact that if I was to make headway, I would have to undertake the research by myself. Moreover, I told myself, if I had any serious aspirations to be a successful investigator then legwork of this kind would be inevitable. The office boasted a good selection of reference books and directories and I scanned the shelves eagerly. I pulled down a number of volumes and started leafing through them.

It was mid-morning before I found what I was looking for. There in bold type the name one of the brothers leapt from the page. Admittedly it was the wrong one, Midas Klondyke, that I had come across, not the sought-for Auros, but the discovery was a start. The man was listed as the owner of a nightclub in a town not too far from here. The place was called The Golden Touch, rather obviously in view of the man’s legendary namesake, and though it was located in the next state, the distance was not more than an hour’s drive. I absolutely had to check the place out and resolved to pay a visit that same evening. That, however, left me faced with an urgent problem, deciding what I would wear!

While I was working at the bar, I had acquired a number of eye-catching evening dresses, sourced from the local Goodwill stores which often had quite exotic creations on sale for just a few dollars. Some of these frocks had fitted well as purchased, others needed a few alterations, but my mother’s insistence that I had learnt to sew had stood me in good stead and I now had quite a dazzling collection. My range of ‘work-wear’ definitely had gone down well with the clientele and had promoted some generous tips.

From what I could find out, the Golden Touch aspired to be an up-market night spot, so it would be better to be over-dressed than under-dressed, I reckoned. In the past it had been a lot of fun to dress myself up, but my present existence provided no opportunities to do so. I now had the perfect excuse to glam myself up without restraint. My rationale was that if I had to live my life as a woman, then I ought to take every opportunity for pleasure as I could. Here was just such an opportunity. I could have a ball!

Eagerly I ran my hand along the rail of clothes in my closet. It didn’t take long to select a cocktail length dress in a hot pink. As I remembered, it clung to my curves closer than a second skin tending to reveal what it purported to hide. Perfect!

I brushed out my hair and sat at my vanity to work on the look I wanted. It would be best not to hold back with my make up. In the preceding months I had invested in a range of cosmetics which were not lacking in any direction and planned to take full advantage of the early experience I'd gained working in a beauty salon.

To begin with I moisturised generously. My complexion was neither worse nor better than any woman in her mid-twenties might expect to have and there were no obvious blemishes, but a selective application of concealer followed by a pore filler helped address one or two little areas I felt dissatisfied with. Then I brushed on a clear liquid primer to lessen some tiny wrinkles and that was followed by a colour-correcting primer overall. A neutral powder foundation came next, a subtle touch of blusher on the apple of my cheeks and I was nearly there. Finally, I dusted on a light mineral veil to restore some youthful freshness to my skin.

I resisted the temptation to apply overly dramatic eyeshadow. The sexy but elegant image I was aiming for would not benefit by bearing any resemblance to a painted lady. The eyes are the windows of the soul, or so I had been taught. Instead, I employed a progressive combination of shades to hopefully create an air of mystery.

I took especial care eye-lining my upper lids, ending with an upwards outward flick mirrored by a similar grace note on the lower. A steady hand was needed. The effect I was seeking was to make my eyes appear larger and I was pleased with the result. False lashes might detract from the subtly chic effect I wanted so instead I used curling tongs with lash-lengthening mascara. The effect was more natural and, in my opinion, just as striking. It only remained for me to colour my lips and nails to complement the hue of my dress, and I was ready for anything!

My painstaking preparations did have one drawback. They meant I was now running later than intended. I found it impossible to make up much time though I drove fast along the freeway. When quite near to the town I was heading for, I stopped to fill up at a gas station and asked directions. The pump attendant gave me plenty of appreciative glances and made no secret that he liked what he saw! While being subjected to such an intense scrutiny felt uncomfortable. it was a boost for my confidence and signalled that those hours in front of my vanity had been well spent.

The guy who polished my windshield was also very thorough in completing his task and engaged me in conversation assiduously. Fortunately, little evening jacket I had put on over my frock provided a degree of modesty, but I began to think I would never get away.

His parting words were salutary. “Have yourself a good evening, little lady, but don’t you go losing your dough at the tables they got in that back room. Only time I ever went in there, I got skinned alive!”

I thanked him for the caution and drove smartly away, glad to wave them goodbye and pursue the adventure that beckoned!

Chapter 17 – The Golden Touch

A cheerful ‘You can’t miss it!’ had been the ending to the gas jockey’s directions to the casino and he proved to be right. From quite a distance I could see neon lights blaring the name of the place in six-foot high lettering. I alighted and, handing my car keys to the parking valet, mounted the steps to the entrance, nerves a-jangling. The place’s decor made the unambiguous statement that whatever Golden Touch he happened to possess, Mr Klondyke had it in spades, and probably in every other suit as well! The lobby was entered via an imposing portal, adorned with marble pillars, and glittering surfaces abounded everywhere. My feet sank so deep into the thick red carpet that walking on it in heels required serious effort.

A couple of large individuals in evening dress were stationed on either side of the inner door. They looked me over unsmilingly as I approached. Nothing daunted, I stared right past them. When I got close, I halted, head in air, and waited with a disdainful expression on my face. The nearest of the two hurried to pull open one of the doors for me. I gave the other fellow a supercilious glance and waited some more. He nearly fell over himself to open the other as well, at which point I condescended to stalk haughtily through, a woman who knew her own worth.

The interior room was impressively ornamented with plenty of gilding everywhere. The Klondyke brothers certainly didn’t tire of the golden theme! A bar dominated one wall and in front of another was a small stage where a three-piece band played soft music. The place was half full, populated in the main with well-dressed couples but there were the occasional singletons dotted here and there. I checked my coat and walked over to the bar. One of the barkeeps was instantly in front of me, all attention.

“What can I get you, ma’am?”

I looked at him surprisedly, as if to convey that I wasn’t the sort of girl who expected to buy her own drinks. “I haven’t decided, as yet. Tell me, is it always this quiet in here? Where does all the action take place?”

The man nodded to the other side of the room where a double door was set in the wall. “The back room. But that’s just for Mr Klondyke’s special guests” he warned.

I seized what seemed like an opportunity. “Which Mr Klondyke is that, Midas or Auros?”

The man looked at me strangely. “Mr Midas, naturally. We don’t get to see much of Mr Auros in here anymore. Do you know him?”

“Let’s say, friend of a friend” I insinuated. “Would that get me in there?”

The man laughed. “With madame’s looks, I’m guessing she would be welcome most places.”

“You’re very kind. Let’s see what happens when I test that theory, shall we?”

I could almost feel the man’s eyes boring into my butt as I sauntered across the room. That was fine by me. I had dressed to be stared at. As I neared the backroom doorway, there was a man in a tuxedo approaching it ahead of me. Courteously, he held back and opened the door for me. The timing was perfect. It appeared as if we had entered as a couple and I didn’t have to explain my entrance to anyone. Once inside, I hesitated in order to allow the gent who had been my passport to the inner sanctum to squeeze past me. Then I shadowed him across the room. He stopped at one of the card tables, so I turned aside to where a roulette wheel was getting some serious exercise.

The room was crowded and noisy, exhibiting all the excitement, buzz and clatter of a gambling joint in full swing. It seemed I had chosen a busy place to stand. Short of pushing through the throng I couldn’t have made it to the table itself, and I was about to try elsewhere when a shortish man in a white cowboy hat and fringed shirt caught my eye, or rather I caught his.

“Make a space there” he called. “Let the little gal through, now. Come sweetheart, you can stand by me. I need a pretty little good-luck charm like you to bring me some success!”

People stood aside so, smiling my gratitude, I moved forward and stood just behind him.

“Now don’t you move from there, darlin’,” he commanded. “We’ll soon see if my fortunes don’t change. What do you reckon?”

This last question was addressed to a woman on the other side of him. Almost a head taller than he, she wore both an elaborate evening dress in pale green and a determined expression. Each time the ball was rolled she clenched her fists in apparent attempts to control its destiny by sheer force of will. It seemed, however, that the man in the hat had been losing despite his neighbour’s exertions, or perhaps because of them!
Once I had joined him, apparently, his luck began to improve, as he took care to inform the company at large. He recouped his losses and even made a few gains, before calling it a night. “Some days, it just ain’t worth the candle” he declared.

The man’s companion had left him by then, in quest of the powder room, and I found myself being escorted from the table by my new friend. He introduced himself as Alexander, but “not the Great” as he added, modestly qualifying the appellation. He handed me a small stack of chips “for your much appreciated assistance, my dear.”

I was about to refuse, but my new ally wouldn’t hear of it. “I’d be happy to see what you can do with those, sweetheart. I can tell you’re more than just a pretty face, though it sure is mighty easy on the eye. First, let’s have ourselves a drink. I’d like to get to know you better.”

“What about your friend?” I alluded to the tall woman in green.

“Jocasta? She’s no-one special to me. She just latches onto anyone that’s ahead. I was doing okay before she showed up. I reckon she should rightly be called Jonah! It was probably her that scared away my chance of a big night.”

I allowed myself to be led back to the bar and bought drinks. My companion found us a quiet corner and under the influence of cocktails became quite loquacious. I was well versed in the art of appearing to drink more than the actuality, so it was easy for me to find out a few choice facts without having to pump him. It seemed that Alexander was a regular at the place.

“I’ve known Midas for years” he stated. “We go way back. He talks tough, but…” he waved his paw in the air “…he’s just a pussy-cat underneath.”

“He has a brother; called Auros, I think. Don’t they run this place together?”

“Auros? Don’t see him around anymore. He’s as different as chalk to cheese and a mite too deep for me, if you take my meaning. A hard man to get to know.”

“This Jocasta? Where does she fit in?” The impression I’d gained of that lady bothered me. She seemed so unfeminine. Overlooking the paradox that the duality of my own gender posed, I could see why Alexander clearly preferred my company over that of the tall woman.

“Well do you know, I couldn’t rightly say.” The man shook his head and shrugged. “She’d like to put over that she and Midas are an item but I’m not so sure it works like that. She’s here most every night, rain or shine. Anyhow, time is passing. Let’s see what you can do with those chips in your purse.”

I was happy to oblige. We made our way back to the gaming room and found a space at the same table as before. It may have been beginner’s luck but after an hour’s play I had more than doubled my pile.

I thanked my new friend and made my excuses. “It’s getting late, and I’ve got a long road to travel.”

Alexander waved them away. “Don’t apologise. Just make sure you’ll be coming this way again, darlin’, and soon.”

I cashed my winnings, retrieved my coat and waited in the lobby for the attendant to bring my car around. A man in expensively cut evening attire was chatting with the woman Jocasta. When she noticed me, she said something to him upon which he approached directly and introduced himself as no less a personage than the proprietor himself.

Before me stood Midas Klondyke in all his majesty.

Chapter 18 – False trail

The casino’s head honcho’s first words to me were more mundane than his air of dignity had led me to expect. “As I have heard, my dear, you have accumulated a nice little sum there.” Midas gestured towards my purse. “We always like to send our first-time customers away with smiles on their faces. What was your name again?”

“I hadn’t mentioned it, but it’s Jennifer… Jennifer Cartwright.”

“Well Miss Cartwright, the roads around here aren’t too safe for a good-looking woman to be travelling alone so late at night, especially if she is carrying. I’ll tell you what we’ll do. Here’s my IOU for your winnings. I’ll hold on to the cash until you come again. That way, we can both happy.”

I opened my mouth to protest but then thought better of it. There was something about the man’s manner that brooked no refusal. I remembered what my real agenda for visiting the place had been and assented. As it was, I came away with something more valuable than money. The germ of an idea. As I drove back all those lonely miles the notion grew wings. The more I considered it the more it took flight. It positively soared!

What if this Jocasta was not who she pretended to be but someone else entirely? She was so tall and straight… almost flat-chested… and then there was her voice. Might she actually not be female at all, rather like my client? With my background I ought to be able to tell! If I was right then could she be the elusive brother that was so hard to find, got up as a woman? It might explain a lot.

My next leap in the dark was even more adventurous. Suppose that Raymond Price had discovered all about Gloriana’s and was blackmailing the wealthy names on the list who were patrons there. Perhaps he had also tried to put the bite on the other name on the list. Auros K!

Attempting to shake-down such a hard-headed individual might have been too dangerous a game for safety! During the long drive home the germ of imagination expanded in my brain until I felt sure I was right. It remained to be seen whether my theory would stand up to the cold hard scrutiny to which my boss was sure to subject it when I told him of it the following day.

I woke bright and early and arrived in the office before Guy, an event in itself. By 10am he was still not in, and I was growing impatient. By 11am I decided I would have to test out my theory of the previous evening under my own auspices. I would start by finding out what my client knew, if anything. Twenty minutes later I was outside the Simpson residence. I rang the bell and Millie answered the door to me as before.

“Good morning, Miss Cartwright. I’m afraid my mistress isn’t down yet. If you would care to wait in the drawing room, I’ll tell her you’re here.”
I waited as bidden, wondering why my client was so behindhand with her toilette. A late night perhaps?

I wasn’t kept in suspense too long. Gloria swept in looking radiant. “You must excuse me, Jennifer, dear. I woke with a terrible headache, which is why I wasn’t up. I was so delighted when I heard you had called, I’m happy to say, that your visit has driven it entirely away. Please forgive my lack of formality. I just threw this old thing on.”

The robe she had wrapped around her was so sheer it provided the merest nod to modesty. I didn’t know quite where to look. I gulped and stammered “It… It’s perfectly fine!”

She seated herself opposite me and gazed into my eyes. “You’re going to tell me you have solved my case; I simply know it” she gushed. “Clever you!”

“Well, not quite.” I amended, trying my hardest to prevent my eyes descending from her face, “but we have made some progress.”

“But since your last visit, there’s been no-one following me at all” she exclaimed, waving her arms in triumph.

Her excitement threatened to unwrap the flimsy robe which loosely enfolded her. I would have been less concerned if I’d been certain that she was at least wearing panties below it. Hastily I strove to introduce a modicum of reality into her state of mind.

“We still have some questions that need to be addressed. It seems likely that the man who was tailing you was a blackmailer, and there might have been other victims.”

Gloria’s eyes widened in horror at this news. “How awful!! I think blackmail is despicable, don’t you?”

“I was wondering if you recognised any of these names.” I took out the list. “It might make sense of our findings if any of these men were known to you. They may have visited Gloriana’s”

I read out the first, but my client immediately denied knowing it or anything that would cast any light on the subject. “No. But I only knew our guests by their femme names” she pointed out. “Arthur would have had their full details, I guess.”

“Let’s see” I persisted.

Slowly and carefully, I went through the rest of them, giving particular emphasis to those individuals whom Guy had highlighted. To each name, however, the lady gave a decided shake of the head. As far as I could tell she wasn’t trying to deceive me. To my belief the woman honestly had not heard of any that I mentioned. Until the very last, that is.

Instinctively I had held back from including it with the others and I dropped the name as an afterthought as casually as I could. “Oh, and there’s another name, someone called Auros. I think it might be Auros Klondyke.”

The effect on Gloria was dramatic. She looked wildly about her, as does a sleep-walker who wakes to find themselves in an unknown fearful place. “How? Why is he on that list?” She buried her head in her hands.

As gently as I could I coaxed “Can you tell me about him?”

She lifted her head and reached out to me.

I took her hands and time seemed to stand still. I forbore from further questions until she looked more composed. “How did you come to know him?”

“He and his brother Midas used to run a casino. Still do, for all I know. I worked there. It was where I first met Arthur.” She smiled at the recollection. “He rescued me from all that. He helped me change into… well, what you see before you now. When we first met, I was a singer and burlesque dancer. It seemed like fun to begin with but in the end, I found it degrading.”

“It doesn’t sound so terrible.”

“You don’t understand. My billing was as ‘The Ginger Goddess’. I was a drag performer!”

She paused before making the rest of the revelation. “There’s something you should know about me. Despite how I look, I was born a male, or so my birth certificate declares, but it was always wrong. I was born a female in a man’s body.”

I remained silent and tried to look surprised. Gloria didn’t appear to notice. “As time went on, having to act out a parody of what I ought to be became unbearable. One evening I refused to go back on after the interval. They had to make an announcement that I had been taken ill. Arthur was there that night and came backstage. He overheard them threatening me, trying to insist I carry on, and he intervened. He stood up for me. He was magnificent!”

The woman turned her head away, overcome with emotion. Her shoulders heaved as she stifled a sob.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too upsetting” I soothed.

“No. I want to” she visibly pulled herself together. “I know I can trust you completely. Arthur and I fell in love. He took me away from there and helped me change from merely impersonating women to becoming the one I’d always been on the inside. He found a good plastic surgeon who did the work. It must have cost a fortune, but expense was no object to him. I’ve lost count of the operations and procedures I’ve had, but he swore it was worth every penny. We were so in love.”

Gloria dabbed at her eyes. “There’s something else you ought to know. The physical side of our relationship was never complete. I tried so hard to please him, but it could never be enough. He always would reassure me that I excited him like no other lover. In the end the exertions were too much for him and his heart gave out. I can never forgive myself” she sobbed.

Again, I stayed silent. I could relate to the worry of being unable to satisfy a lover. When she had recovered her composure again, I probed a little further. “Is that how he died?”

Gloria nodded. “We’d made love that night. In the morning I’d taken a shower and was getting dressed when Millie came and told me. She’d found him when she had brought in the coffee tray. Once I’d seen him lying there so cold I was too upset to deal with it. Millie had already sent for the doctor, but of course by the time he arrived it was too late. When I last saw Arthur, he looked so peaceful, like he was asleep. I’ll always remember him that way.”

I resisted the temptation to take the creature in my arms. The flimsy nature of her covering garment and the attraction that I felt told me that that way lay disaster. Instead, I held her hands very tightly for what seemed an age. It seemed to help.

I was anxious to get back to discovering what Gloria knew about the Klondyke brothers and Auros in particular, but out of sympathy I refrained from plying her with questions. It was my client who roused herself to return to the former topic.

“Enough about me. You were asking about Auros. When I first met him, I had the impression that he was different from his brash and ruthless brother; a gentleman. But make no mistake, he was just as hard underneath. Worse, if anything!”

Her words echoed those of Alexander. “With Midas you know where you stand, but his brother is the evil genius behind those rackets they’re involved in. He’s an insidious little snake.”

“Little?”

“Yes, he’s not even as tall as I am.”

Bang went my cleverly thought-out theory. “Was there a woman called Jocasta at the club, by any chance?” I asked weakly.

Gloria nodded solemnly. I tried hard not to look disappointed. The tall woman was evidently not Auros Klondyke in drag, as I had supposed. Stupid of me!

“She began as the other half of my act. She played the man, I the woman. Fred and Ginger. Pathetic really, and when I realised what sort of outfit I had got mixed up in I had to get away. She moved on… to other things. What she is or does now I haven’t a clue.”

“I can understand that.”

“It feels good to tell you all this, but it’s time I made myself decent. Come and talk to me while I dress.”

I hesitated, but as ever, Gloria brooked no refusal. She took my hand and pulled me into the hall and up the stairs. At least by following her, the question of whether she wore any panties underneath her diaphanous wrap was solved! Entering her bedroom, I was led over to sit on the bed where I perched myself uneasily. She disappeared behind an ornate screen, so that only her head and neck were visible.

“Don’t be so nervous” laughed Gloria, seeing my edginess. “I rarely bite!”

I tried to smile naturally but it was a feeble attempt.

“Now you have heard all my secrets, tell me something private about you in return” she demanded playfully. Casting off the robe she casually slung it over the top of the partition. I paused, wondering what I ought to reveal.

Her eyes met mine, and the pleading look on her face helped me decide. “Well, there is something you might know.”

I had my companion’s undivided attention while I related that only the other night someone with a gun came into my apartment unbidden.

At the end of my tale, she appeared to be in total shock.

“It was okay, I scared them away, whoever they were” I said, attempting to calm her down.

However, Gloria’s terror remained. “You must cease working on my case immediately” she exclaimed.

My repeated assurances only mollified her anxiety slightly. “While the case is unsolved you must sleep here. If anything happened to you on account of me, I would never forgive myself.”

At her insistence I eventually agreed that I would give my apartment a wide berth at night with one proviso. “I will need to go back there, if only to change my clothes at the very least. Later today I have an important meeting planned, where I really ought to be very formally dressed.”

“That’s not necessary. You must wear something of mine.” Gloria looked so pleased with herself at the brilliance of her suggestion, it was comical. My hostess’s expression resembled that of the cat that got the cream.

“Merely the thought of dressing you in my clothes is something I find enchanting” she enthused.

How was it that I had to yield to her, against my inclination? As always!

Chapter 19 – Dressing the part

Gloria was all excitement. “Now let me see. Something formal. A little black dress will be the ideal” she decided, “and of course you must wear something elegant underneath. That will do wonders for your morale!”

Hastily she grabbed her robe and throwing it around herself once more, crossed the room and opened the doors of her closet. After rejecting several items as “too long”, “so last year” and “too old for you, darling”, my hostess came up with “the very thing”, a short black frock in a semi-sheer crepe material with a subtle sheen. It was beautifully made and looked expensive. As a former photographic model, I could appreciate quality clothing when it crossed my path.

Looking highly pleased with herself, Gloria held the dress up and twirled it before my eyes. “Approve?” she queried. She didn’t wait for a reply. In any case I would have deferred to her choice, but she was already hunting through one of the drawers in the dresser. It was full of lingerie.
Silks and satins were picked out, scrutinised and rejected before she hit upon something that satisfied her, an eye-catching bra in a shining pink satin. There were panties to match, and both were trimmed with delicate black lace. The lady was clearly enjoying herself! With a self-satisfied smirk she handed the selected set to me. “Just wait till I see you in these, my sweet” she beamed.

The sense that I was being treated like a life-size plaything had begun to irritate me. However, it seemed ungrateful to check such artless pleasure, so I allowed myself to go with the flow. My nature must be entirely passive as it was what I always seemed to do! Obediently, I took the proffered articles from my excitable companion and slipped behind the screen to change. I emerged moments later burdened with an apprehension that what I most resembled was probably a pinup centrefold!

The next five minutes were spent by my client in having me primp and pose in a variety of ways accompanied by many “oohs” and “aahs” of appreciation from the lady. She then recovered herself to make a more critical appraisal. “The outline this bra gives you is about perfect. It’s exactly what you need to shape those heavy breasts of yours. You must always wear that style in future, my dear” she added triumphantly. “Now, let’s see you in the dress as well.”

She took up the little frock and gently teased up the skirts in her hands. She held it out and obediently I raised my arms and suffered her to slip the garment over my head. The material felt soft and silky to the touch. An exquisite sensation!

Immediately, it was clear that there was a problem. However ‘perfect’ an outline the borrowed brassiere might provide me, far too much of it was visible beneath the frock. The exacting standards which my mother’s tutelage had stamped on me could not be easily set aside and showing one’s lingerie had been one of her bêtes noires. I said as much. It was after much deliberation and with some reluctance that my client was persuaded to think the same. With a sigh she returned to the lingerie drawer and searched assiduously once again.

Eventually she came up with an alternative set for me to try and I returned behind the screen to change once more. I had stripped down as far as panties when my privacy was broken in upon. On the pretext of handing me a new pair of hose, Gloria put her head around the edge of the partition, exclaiming “Wear these with the new set, darling.”

Her face bore an expressive smile as she added mischievously “They go together beautifully. Now, have you everything you require?”

I had good reason for wanting to remove the last of my clothes discreetly, of course. I was determined that my transgender status should remain concealed from my client for as long as possible. I assured her that nothing was lacking and though I waited until she had retreated to other side of the partition before slipping out of the last of my underwear, I was unsure whether my secret had been preserved. I happened to glance in the mirror to find my benefactress’s eyes meeting mine. How much had Gloria seen? Was that a rather knowing look upon my hostess’s face, or had I imagined it? Any sense of security that remained had been undermined by this circumstance and not a little.

I tried to dismiss my worries on that score and completed the rest of my change in double quick time. The style of this new lingerie set was quite different from that of the first, although just as striking. This bra was a half-cup style with removable straps. At first, I had some doubts whether the bra would fit, my boobs threatening to burst out at the first opportunity. Clearly Gloria and I were not quite of a size.

There was a matching panty girdle. Both were all over lace in a sultry shade of burgundy and as a finishing touch, the tops of the stockings she had found for me were fashioned in the same shade of red. Aware that I was handling items of the highest couture I took extra care that my painted nails didn’t snag their transparent material. I had to admit my benefactor had excellent taste!

When I stepped out from behind the screen, the look on Gloria’s face was a picture. The creature seemed enraptured by her handiwork and bade me turn first one way, then the other, then all the way around. She watched me as if transfixed. Finally, she recovered from her ecstasy sufficiently to insinuate “How does it feel to be so intimate with my frillies?”

Thinking only of the costliness of such an ensemble I could only come up with one reply. “Like a million dollars!”

I really did, but my reply was found lacking.

“Actually, I meant because our lives have become so closely intertwined. It represents a new level of intimacy, don’t you think?” she clarified, but no suitable answer to that question came to my mind.

The woman assisted me to wriggle into the little black dress once again. I couldn’t get over how beautifully the garment had been made. It felt nice and I was enjoying the experience of being so thoroughly pampered.

“Sexy but not too available” was Gloria’s summation.

I think I must have been completely dumb-sticken. “This is perfect” I whispered. “Thankyou.” Our eyes met and locked. We were obviously in complete accord over the correctness of this choice of attire.

She regarded me possessively. “When you’re wearing these old things of mine, darling, I’m hoping you may constantly have me in your thoughts. That’s the only recompense I seek. Now, where is this meeting of yours taking place?”

When I explained my plan to Gloria, she looked horrified and protested loudly against it. She regarded what I intended to do far too hazardous. However, I maintained my cheerful demeanour and was adamant that all would be okay. Even so, it took some time to reconcile her to the scheme.

Amusingly, the part to which she objected most strongly was that I would be away from her for several days. I felt flattered by the strength of her sentiment but couldn’t allow her objections to restrict my freedom of action. They could only be overcome when I promised to stay in her home as soon as I returned and remain there while ever the investigation of her case was incomplete. I didn’t really see the logic in this but could come up with no insurmountable reason to refuse. I could almost hear Guy’s admonishment, “Never get involved with a client!” but that carried no weight here.

It was much later in the day when I found myself on the road once more. I was feeling excited about the prospect of action that was before me. Setting aside Gloria’s misgivings, I’d called at the apartment to collect some of my own clothes. I didn’t know how long I would be away. Then I’d driven to the office only to find that I’d missed Guy yet again. I would have welcomed his approval for the course I was planning to take, but seemingly there was no chance of that. As a poor second best I left him a note summarising what I intended. As my little car bowled along, I turned on the radio and sang along with the music. The miles passed quickly. I felt happy… a little scared, but happy!

It was 4pm when I parked outside the casino, too early for it to be doing business as yet, but that was what I had been counting on. Checking around the side of the building, I found a second entrance, a plain door set in the wall. There was a bell push which I rang and then waited, nerves jangling in anticipation of what might follow. At the second attempt my summons was answered. The door was opened by a stocky looking individual with a face like a prize-fighter’s.

“I’m here to see Mr Midas.” Actually, I had no such appointment, but the fellow didn’t need to know that.

“Who shall I say wants him” growled the doorman,

“You can tell him Miss Cartwright is here to see him on a matter of business.”

The man looked me up and down and then closing the door in my face, disappeared. As I waited, I checked my appearance in the glass panel of the door. Gloria had been right. The little black dress hit just the right note. It oozed quality and was sexy without being too obvious. My confidence for the encounter ahead soared sky-high. I was going to need it!

Chapter 20 - Undercover

A few minutes later I was shown into Midas’s office. His lair was a plush affair strewn with furnishings as soft as the lighting.

The man himself was seated on a sofa in a relaxed pose. He didn’t get up or ask me to sit so I stood before him while he regarded me disdainfully. His lack of politeness was not lost on me, but actually it suited my book to be stared at. My looks were likely to be the biggest asset if I was to succeed in what I had in mind.

“Well, Miss Cartwright. May I call you Jennifer? Well, Jennifer, you have returned. Sadly, we are not open until the evening, so if you are here to redeem your winnings, you will have to come back later.” The main man’s lips twisted in a cynical smirk as he said this. Up to that point I might have found his regular features and good physique attractive, but his lack of curtesy lost him some ground.

“Oh, my winnings can wait” I smiled back at him. “May I sit?”

Midas waved a hand expansively in the direction of a seat opposite him. I smoothed the folds of my skirts underneath me and sat myself delicately in the manner Mom had taught me all those years ago, “as if something fragile might break”. Despite the demure posture I adopted, the shortness of my frock would ensure that the object of my quest would have plenty to distract him.

He sat up and took notice. It was easy to see from the look on his face that I’d already made an impression.

“What a lovely room. So comfortable. Mr Klondyke, you have excellent taste.”

Midas merely inclined his head.

“A girl could get used to this.” I leant back against the cushions and stretched my limbs luxuriantly.

The man made a gesture of impatience. “A matter of business, I was informed.”

“Yes. I was hoping that you would be able to provide me with something more lasting than my er… well-gotten gains.”

“Really?” He looked unamused.

“Why yes. A man of influence like yourself must have endless opportunities to do just that.”

The man looked nettled. He clearly didn’t like prevarication. “Come to the point, lady” he growled.

“It’s quite simple. I’m hoping you can offer me a job.”

“A job?” The man’s eyes flashed angrily at the temerity of my declaration. My proposal was apparently something for which he was entirely unprepared.

“Yes, a job. I think I could carry out the duties of one of your ‘golden girls’ more than adequately. I’ve had some little experience of work as a hostess and, do you know, I seemed to be rather good at it. I’m not sure why, but the customers always take to me.” I did my best to look coy.

Midas looked taken aback for a moment, then he laughed. “I just bet they do.”

He looked me up and down quite blatantly to underline his point. “Interesting” he mused. “It just might be possible to find you employment of some kind, I guess. Come back in a few days and I’ll think about it.”

“Oh,” I pouted “and I thought you were a man of action. They do say that there’s no time like the present. What have you got to lose?”

He laughed again. “You’ve got some nerve, you little… Well… Okay, I guess. However, before we rush into anything we might both regret, let’s get Jocasta involved and see what she thinks. You remember Jocasta? In the meantime, let me offer you a drink?”

Suddenly Midas was all over courtesy. He poured me a bourbon and one for himself as well. Then he picked up a telephone and dialled a number. The party at the other end answered straight away.

“Jocasta, my dear, are you free…? Good! I have a proposition to consider that I’d like your opinion on. You remember the young woman in pink who er… lent me her winnings the other night. She is looking for work; as one of our ‘girls’. What do you think?”

There was a pause before the phone broke silence. I couldn’t hear what was said but the result must have been generally positive. He put the receiver down and smiled.

“Jocasta would like to see how you shape up. Finish your drink.”

I resisted the impulse to gulp the liquid straight down and took my time, savouring it while I crossed then uncrossed my legs artlessly. Midas would have plenty of opportunity to form his own opinion of how I shaped up. So far, I could surmise that it was likely to be favourable.

When I had done toying with my bourbon, the man dismissed me. “Now, if you trot along through there, she will meet you in the ladies’ dressing room.” Running his eyes up and down my body again, he added. “Assuming the lady isn’t against the idea, I’m guessing she’ll be able to find a costume to fit you.”

I gave him my best up from under glance and demurely rose to take leave of my would-be new employer. “You are very kind. I hope to be seeing you again soon.”

Then I went in search of the formidable Jocasta. Along the indicated corridor I found the door labelled Dressing Room without difficulty and entered directly. I found the woman waiting for me. Her manner as she greeted me was not effusive, making me sense that obtaining this lady’s approval might be a harder task than winning that of her boss. After regarding me with a degree of disfavour for a full minute, she shook her head resignedly.

Despite this inauspicious beginning, the tall woman set about selecting garments from a rail of costumes. She handed them to me without ceremony. Every item she had picked out had a glittering golden sheen. There was a bra top which was strapless and to accompanying it were matching panties and a bustle-like skirt. To complete the set was a waist-nipping corset in black with gilded boning. I was glad that my midriff was capable of being compressed into quite a narrow compass and even more that the skirt would provide some welcome coverage for my rear end.

There was a curtain behind which I could change clothes in privacy, and before long I emerged, attired as one of the place’s showgirls. The outfit left more of my limbs on display than I wished and I was very conscious that my thighs and butt no longer were as slim and dainty as in my younger days. To counter my embarrassment, I reminded myself that I would not be the only female dressed in such a fashion and tried to banish all doubts about the spectacle I would be making. I was here to do a job, I chided myself.

“Let me look at you.”

Jocasta scrutinised me from head to toe with embarrassing thoroughness.

“Impressive!” she commented. “But I think we can go one better. Breathe in!”

The tall woman turned me around and hooked my corset on the tightest set of fastenings before standing back to admire her handiwork.
This time she grudgingly declared herself satisfied with my appearance. “Mm… I suppose you’ll do!” was the verdict.

Next the matron instructed me in what was expected of a ‘golden girl’. I tried hard to concentrate. When she was done, she added a word of caution. “With your looks, honey, you will have every John in this place eating out of your hand. That’s fine by me, with one exception. Midas seems mighty taken with you, but… he’s already spoken for. If I see you so much as flutter those dreamy eyelashes at him, you will be out of here so fast your feet won’t touch. Got that?”

I hastened to agree. After all, the agenda I had in mind did not necessarily include hitting on the boss; unless, of course, events dictated the need for such dalliance. I was more interested in discovering what I could of the man’s elusive brother. By way of embarking along that course, I posed an innocent enough sounding question. “What is your capacity here, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“As far as you’re concerned, I’m the only person you have to please.” Jocasta wasn’t smiling.

“I thought Midas had a brother who ran this place with him. A man with a funny name… er Auros? Yes, that was it.”

From her manner I guessed I had touched a nerve. “He does, but you needn’t concern yourself with him. He’s never here. Now let’s go and see if Midas approves, but that’s only a formality. What I say goes!”

I followed this forbidding lady back into the lobby where the main man was to be found. I would need to assert myself if I was to survive here, so seeking to begin as I meant to continue, I stepped boldly past her and, ending with a twirl, halted immediately in front of Midas.

“I hope you like what you see!” I murmured, in my most flirtatious manner.

From the look of disapproval on Jocasta’s face, I felt it was safe to say that he did!

Chapter 21 – Small world

Two hours had yet to pass before the club was due to open and I was left to occupy the intervening time as I thought fit. My first need was to find myself some accommodation close by. No provision had been made by my new employers in that regard, and my new job would entail working into the small hours. The alternative of driving all the way home each night would be entirely impractical.

Clearly, I couldn’t leave the premises dressed as I was, but I was saved the trouble of changing by the presence of some raincoats hanging in the changing room. I availed myself of one directly, trusting that I would be able to return it before its real owner had need of it. The one I chose was of a trenchcoat style, particularly appropriate outerwear for a budding sleuth or so I thought! My confidence in my detecting abilities grew as I wrapped myself in the all-concealing garment. I belted it tight around me, picked up my overnight bag and left the building in search of a hotel.

Where to begin? A traffic cop was on duty at a nearby crossroads, so I began my quest on foot and walked across to enlist his aid. He smiled at my approach. Helping a young woman in dire need probably provided a welcome diversion from his other duties.

“A good hotel, not too expensive” he repeated after me and then while he considered, he held up a hand so that the cars he was directing screeched to a halt. Apparently oblivious to the confusion around him, he stood and pondered, varying this occupation with running his eyes over me.

Finally! I could claim that my looks had stopped traffic!

“You could do worse than try Rusty’s” was the conclusion of his deliberations. “It’s clean, reasonably priced and the grub is excellent.”
The officer gave me directions.

After thanking him profusely, I walked back to my car pretending to ignore the glares of waiting motorists whose journeys I had seemingly delayed. I drove a short distance as he had directed and parked up outside the building. I found Rusty’s to be all I required. The blonde woman who was seated behind the reception desk was a little older than me. Her welcome was accompanied with a friendly smile and when I explained I had just taken a job at the Golden Touch, her manner became even more cordial.

“We already have one of your fellow workers staying here. She’s on the top floor so I’ll put you in the next room. You’ll have to share the bathroom but you’re soon sure to feel at home.”

I followed her up to inspect my quarters wondering whether living so close to another ‘golden girl’ would prove awkward. There again perhaps it could be turned to my advantage. I took the room in any case. It didn’t take me long to dispose of my things in the closet and the drawers.

Wondering who my neighbour would turn out to be, I crossed the street and bought myself some food at a drugstore before driving back to the club. Though I wasn’t absolutely clear what I hoped to find out by working there the place seemed to hold a key to the mystery surrounding Raymond Price’s untimely demise. I was all out of other ideas.

I made sure I arrived back at the casino early. It would be important to make a good impression on my first day. The changing room was deserted so I flopped down in front of the vanity over which a range of cosmetics were strewn. I spent some time perfecting my hair and make-up ready for the night ahead.

When I was satisfied that my appearance was every bit as good as it could be, I paid a visit to the restroom to ensure that my tuck concealed everything beneath the skimpy gold-coloured briefs I was wearing, a vital precaution as that particular portion of my anatomy was bound to be checked out by the male half of the population during the course of the evening!

When I returned, I found two other girls had made their appearance. They were similarly if not identically clad to myself, and were too busy putting the finishing touches to their attire to make much conversation. When it was time, we headed out into the public rooms to begin our duties. Before long I was immersed in the work, fetching and carrying for the early birds among the clientele. This was all too familiar territory and the stares my striking costume provoked were not much different from such as I’d experienced before. Of more concern was the realisation that my every move was being scrutinised by Jocasta, but it was my first evening so that was only to be expected too.

As the night went on the place got busier and busier, and the three of us were hard put to it keeping up with demand. Eventually, I noticed that a fourth young woman in gold had joined us. She was working across the other side of the room. It was some time before my errands took me near her. When they eventually did, I nearly dropped the tray of drinks I was carrying. The fourth ‘golden girl’ proved to be none other than the girl I'd met at the equestrian centre, Connie. It was hard to decide which of us looked more surprised at the discovery, her or me.

“What are you doing here?” we both blurted out simultaneously, then burst out laughing.

There was no time for explanations just then so “Later!” we chorused, and after dissolving into giggles again we got back to work.
It was much, much later when I got the chance to take a breather. I was intrigued to know how the girl from Trail-to-blaze came to be here, so I delayed my break to coincide with hers.

In the relative calm of the dressing room, she was the first to speak. “Doesn’t that just beat it, seeing you of all people? How come you’re working in the same place as me?”

“Pure chance, I guess” I responded, truthfully. “I just quit a similar job in a smaller club. It was getting to be same old, same old every night there and I’d had my fill of it months ago. This place looks much more promising.”

“Where are you from?”

I mentioned the town where I’d been working, then added. “I’m planning to stay around these parts for a good while, at least till I see how it goes. I’ve taken lodgings at a little hotel called Rusty’s. It’s basic but my room is up on the top floor which I like. Quiet, but you can see what’s happening.”

Connie laughed out loud. “That’s just too spooky! We’re going to be neighbours.”

“No! I love that. See, I’ve made a friend already. But I thought you worked at the riding stables. Have you quit?”

“Nope. I work there afternoons. It isn’t far from here across country, so I can combine the two. I just love being around horses. I’ll have my own spread one day.”

“That sounds great and I can just see you doing it, too. Uh-oh. Break time’s over. We’d better get out there.”

“That’s right. You don’t want a run in with Jocasta on your first day.”

We got out there. It’s fair to say I earned my dough that evening. One good thing was that there were plenty of tips. Alexander was at the tables and because I knew he was generous, I made a point of anticipating he had everything he could need. It was easy to see that in our glittery costumes the ‘golden girls’ were a hit with the male customers. Being dressed so outrageously began to feel almost normal and as often had happened to me before I found myself enjoying the attention I was getting. Jocasta had taken pains to explain that there was a rule in place of ‘no touching’, so I was confident enough to discourage any over familiar advances. For someone with my experience, it was easy enough.

I’d just been deflecting a couple of the more persistent optimists’ ‘admiration’ under the eagle eye of the grande dame, when I noticed a familiar face.in the crowd.

Guy!

Next moment he wasn’t there, but I was sure of what I’d seen. I guessed he had slipped away somewhere to find a quieter place where we might meet, so I hunted around until I came across him in a corner of the bar. I made my way over so we could talk.

“What can I get you, sir?” I smiled, then sotto voce, “Like my outfit?”

I gave the ex-agent a flirtatious twirl. It was too good an opportunity of showing the man what he was missing.

“You look sensational” he replied evenly, “but have you any idea what you’re up to?”

“I’m investigating” I murmured. “There’s something going on here that we need to uncover. There was a connection between Ray Price and this place. Also Gloria worked here at one time. Anyway, can’t say more just now.” In a normal voice I added “I’ll be back in a moment with your drink, sir.”

Seeing Guy had lifted my mood. Having him around gave me a new level of confidence, though whether that was well-placed or not, only the future would tell. I was conscious that the wiggle of my rear end might be a tad accentuated as I glided over to the bar. I told myself it was entirely due to my too-high heels rather than any desire to draw the man’s attention to my gilded derrière. No honestly! He was my boss, for heaven’s sake!

I ordered a drink for the ex-government man at random and a few minutes later made my way back to where he was seated. “There you go, sir. Bottom’s up!” I teased, cheekily.

The man clearly didn’t match my flirtatious mood. “Jennifer! You need to be careful. This place could be dangerous for you” he admonished. “Call me when you finish up tonight.”

I smiled my assent and left him to serve to another punter. When I glanced back, it was a shock to see that the man had gone. I would have liked him to stick around.

The rest of the evening passed in a sort of blur and all of us four hostesses were rarely able to take a breather until the close. In my previous job I hated slow evenings, but here the problem was just the opposite. My co-workers acted a little warily around me at first, but when they saw that I was prepared to do my fair share they soon accepted me. I began to hope that a camaraderie would develop and lessen the sense of isolation I was feeling. If only Guy had stayed a bit longer.

Chapter 22 – Girl talk

By the time we had finished work and closed up, the time was well into the small hours. I lingered over my final tasks to make sure that Connie and I would be the last to finish. Accordingly, when we got back to the dressing room to change out of our exotic costumes the others had already left.

“Would you mind unlacing this corset?” she asked me. She had already removed her heels and discarded the little piece of lacy material which had served her as a skirt. “I can probably manage it by myself but it’s difficult.”
I was happy to comply. Instinctively I liked the girl. Perhaps her request signified the beginnings of a certain trust developing between us, although with that came a responsibility. I had no wish to take advantage of her nature. If I were to learn something from her it would have to be without subterfuge.

Once she had peeled off her stockings, I began on her corset’s rear laces, working them loose until there was no more tension left in them.

“You’re free” I told her, then by way of opening what might be a fruitful conversation asked as casually as I could, “So! How long have you worked here?”

Connie was too busy unclipping the corset’s busk to answer immediately. Eventually, as she slid herself out of the garment she replied,

“Eighteen months come July.”

The girl stood before me wearing just a pair of metallic gold panties, but without a trace of embarrassment. I looked away in order to pay no heed to her semi-naked condition, not wanting to play the role of voyeur with an unsuspecting victim. In this instance my delicacy was misinterpreted.
“I know! They are tiny, aren’t they?” she complained and pushed out her chest right before my eyes, as if to compensate for the smallness of the boobs to which she had been referring.

“I’m not so sure” I reassured the girl. “From my standpoint they’re a very pretty shape and that counts as much as size these days. You know, being slim is much more fashionable than being curvy. Think of Jean Shrimpton. Big bosoms went out years ago.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about my bust” she grinned. “You must be a very kind person! I’d give anything for a figure like yours. Even with that constricting thing,” she indicated her discarded corset, “I still don’t have any curves worth mentioning, whereas you…” I had just unfastened and taken my own waist-cincher off, “look like an hour-glass with or without one.”

Connie remained eyeing my body with undisguised admiration until the realisation hit me that she was expecting me to continue to undress also. There was no way I was prepared to take off my bra in front of her, so that even more of the swollen mounds on my chest would be revealed.

“Well, this person desperately needs to use the ladies’ room” I hastened to declare. Seizing up my underclothes I fled in that direction. When I returned, the most intimate part of my change of clothes had been successfully completed, and so, to my relief, had my companion’s. All that remained was for me to slip my little black dress back on, and we would both be decent once more.

Connie had already remarked on the delicate nature of the underwear that Gloria had lent to me. “Oh! Those are to die for” she had gushed in appreciation. “So pretty!”

She now began to enthuse over my borrowed frock. “Your clothes must cost you a fortune!” she exclaimed.

In reality I could take little credit for that, so I merely replied that I loved elegant things, a statement that was entirely true, and complimented her on her choice of attire, before stepping over to the mirror for a final check on my appearance. My new friend joined me, and we exchanged glances of satisfaction.

“We’ll do” we laughed together.

Now that we were ready to leave Connie offered to go call a cab. “We’re going to the same place so we can share the fare” she smiled. “They always charge so much after midnight.”

“No need” I returned. “My car is just outside.”

“Even better!”

I had been hoping that as we drove, Connie might fill me in a little about the club and its owners, but the shortness of the journey and the lateness of the hour seemed likely to hinder the sharing of any significant revelation. When we got to our hotel, the need for sleep would be paramount so I resigned myself to waiting for a better opportunity. To my surprise, however, it appeared that Connie wanted to satisfy her curiosity too.

“I’m not ready for bye-byes, just yet, are you?” she whispered as we reached the top floor. “I always feel wide-awake after working at the club. But forgive me. I expect you’re exhausted, it being your first day an’ all. I’ll let you get to bed.”

“No, I feel exactly the same” I protested untruthfully. “Your room or mine?”

“Oh yours, definitely” she giggled. “Mine’s a car wreck. I can be quite an untidy person.”

“Now” she cautioned before we went inside. “We will need to keep our voices low if we don’t want complaints. You take the chair. I’ll sit on the bed.”

“I’m desperate to take my shoes off?” I sighed once we were settled. “My feet!”

“I was just going to say the same” she laughed. “Phew!”

To break the silence that ensued I dove straight in and asked her “You seem such a nice kid. How did you come to be working in that kind of place?”

“I could ask the same about you.”

“Well, I’m older and I’ve kicked around quite a lot, whereas you could be fresh out of high school.”

“Don’t let my innocent face fool you. I’m not as young as I look, and, I may have dark and dangerous secrets!”

“Seriously?”

My companion laughed at my question and shook her head. “The reason is that I lost my mom two years ago and suddenly I was in need of money to live on. The horse-riding place doesn’t pay enough so I took the job at the casino to make up the difference. With all the tips I get I can even put a bit by so that one day I’ll have the money to start my own place.”

Something made me ask “How about your father. Does he figure in any of this?”

Connie thought for a while before answering. “He’s no longer around. After he and Mom split I used to see him now and then, but… he had his own problems.” She bowed her head and was silent.

The girl was clearly reluctant to enlarge on that, so I steered away from probing directly what was an evidently sensitive topic.

“My father left when my younger brother and I were quite small” I volunteered. “Mom had to bring us both up single-handed, but she was a pretty tough lady. Had to be, I guess. I could have been quite a handful.”

“Was?”

“She passed about seven years ago. She used to be pretty hard on me but I still miss her dreadfully, any time I think of her. Your loss is much more recent. I guess it hurts pretty bad?”

“Pretty bad. Mom is still my role model. Most of the time I try to act as if she were here watching. That keeps me out of some scrapes, I guess.”

“What was her name?”

“Catherine. Catherine Nolan. I took her name when she and Dad split so my initials are the same as hers.” Connie was blinking back tears.

“That’s thoughtful” I smiled sympathetically. “What was your dad’s name.”

“Dad? Oh, Simpson. Arthur Simpson.”

She bowed her head again and silence reigned.

I was taken so much by surprise that I could hardly hide that emotion. My confidante was too overcome with her own feelings to notice, however, and I recovered first.

The need to tread softly was clearly paramount. After a pause, “I think ‘Connie Nolan’ sounds nicer” I remarked vaguely. “Good choice.”

Chapter 23 - Sortilège

Not long after the above exchange Connie and I retired to our beds. It was too late by then for me to telephone Guy as arranged. There was no telephone in the room, and I was too tired for a trip down to the lobby. In the meantime, I tried to take some satisfaction from the hope that he might be worrying about me!

I woke the next morning with a sense of purpose. I finally had a real plan in my head instead of the mere pretence of one and it was childishly simple. The casino boss appeared to me to be susceptible to a little mild flirtation. Exploiting that weakness might possibly provide a key that would unlock the mystery. The problem I had was the usual one. First and most importantly, in the little drama I planned to play, how ought I dress for the part?

My choices were strictly limited. Although Gloria had generously sent me on my way with three or four outfits plus some lingerie, and even though, setting aside my client’s anxieties for my safety, I had called at my apartment on the way over here and picked up some of my own clothes, it seemed unlikely that within my limited arsenal of raiment I would have anything to advance my nefarious intentions. The range of glamourwear I had available was not extensive. It was a tricky one.

The one thing I was clear about was that Midas must be so used to seeing scantily clad female flesh that even the most outrageously revealing dress might not make sufficient impact on him. Perhaps I should try and put on an act as a demure little innocent lost in the seamy world of the racketeer. Could I bring off such a role by appearing naïve and vulnerable on the surface but as sexy as a call girl underneath? I was by no means confident that I could.

From among the things Gloria had lent me, I laid out the sets of lingerie on the bed. First to consider was the deep red bra and pantie girdle I had worn for my ‘interview’. It was certainly a beautiful set but in order to boost my morale sufficiently I reckoned my get-up ought to be brand new, to me at least. Then I might play the game with any hope of success.

Then there was an elegant lacy combination in delicate white lace.

It was simple and pretty and I fell in love with it immediately. It felt lovely to wear but in the end, I rejected that choice. The look it gave me was as demure as I could wish but probably a mite too much so. Did it have enough ‘man appeal’ I wondered.

The last set was different again. Shiny and slinky in metallic blue satin and lace, the style was fun and flirty. I liked it a lot but suspected the look might be too similar to the golden glitter which the casino boss encountered every day. I was doubtful whether the overall effect would be seductive enough to beguile a man like Midas, if he ever got to see me in it, that is.

I just couldn’t make up my mind. I would have to give the matter a lot more thought. I’d already taken so long over this decision that now I’d have to hurry if I was to make breakfast. Then I remembered my promise to Guy. It would be unfair to my boss to keep him in suspense any longer, so hastily I threw my coat around me and ran down to the booth in the lobby to call his office. When he picked up the phone, he mostly sounded relieved, instead of being angry with me.

“Jennifer, it’s you. Are you okay? That’s a crazy thing you went and did.”

He did care about me! I tried to keep any gratification I felt on that score out of my voice as I answered somewhat breathlessly “Of course I’m okay. And when you hear what I’ve discovered you might not think I’m so crazy. Remember Connie, the girl at the equestrian centre. Well, she also works as a hostess in the casino and guess what her father’s name happened to be, when he was still around, that is. Simpson. Arthur Simpson! It’s got to have been the same man.”

“Slow down Jennifer. I didn’t say that you were crazy. What you are doing is a little reckless, that’s all.”

“But what about Arthur? You have to admit there’s a connection.”

“True. Before he died, he must have been a regular habitué of the club, but we don’t know how that links him to Raymond Price. I admit, there’s more digging to be done, but please, tread carefully. Someone shot Raymond and already someone, possibly the same person, has attacked you. They might strike again.”

Guy had to be satisfied with my promise that I would run no avoidable risks. At the same time, I made it clear I wasn’t prepared to let pass any opportunity to get to the bottom of the mystery. I knew what I intended to do.

After I’d eaten, I would have the rest of the morning on my hands and there was one urgent thing I needed to do. Yes, that’s right. When in doubt the girl goes shopping! I picked up the phone book and leafed though its pages until I found what I sought; a lingerie store. There were two in town, and I made my way to the closest without further loss of time. It turned out to be a complete frost, definitely not the up-market establishment I was after. That left one other place to try, my last hope.

An old-fashioned bell tinkled as I opened the door to the second emporium. The shop smelled slightly musty with an atmosphere of disuse. My hopes plummeted as I took in the worn floor covering, the faded cloth on a side table and the sombre varnished drawers and shelves. I nearly turned right around and went out again, there and then.

Behind the counter a woman of indeterminate years stood. Her appearance was a little old-fashioned, but her figure was upright and well-formed and was admirably set off by the way that her black uniform dress fitted her. That, and the friendly smile she wore, gave me encouragement to persevere.

“I wonder if you can help me. I’m looking for something rather individual in the way of foundations” I explained. “I need a showstopper to wear for a special occasion. I want to make an impact, if you know what I mean.”

The saleswoman’s smile broadened. “I feel sure I know exactly what madame is seeking” she replied. “Be assured you have come to the right place. I have years of experience at your disposal. You can call me Mildred. Reckon you can trust me?”

I smiled back, hesitating. Then… I had nothing to lose… I nodded in acquiescence.

Mildred showed me into a cubicle directly. “First I need to see what we’re working with” she exclaimed. “Undress please!” She drew the curtain across and left me to do as bid.

When I had removed everything except my panties, and feeling more than a little nervous, I called “I’m ready”.

Instantly the curtain was whisked open. I was thankful that the store was deserted apart from Mildred and myself. It was quite unnerving to see the lady advancing on me brandishing a tape measure. Nothing remained for me to do but allow her free rein over my nearly nude body!

A step into the unknown!

Chapter 24 – Seduction

For several days, my employment at the Golden Touch continued without any incident that was worth remarking on. I had become part of the scenery; well, almost! Whatever secrets the place might contain, they were not ‘writ large’ upon the walls of that establishment. I would have to try my hardest to winkle them out whatever they were.

My reasoning went as follows: if there is are discoveries to be made at the Golden Touch, there is only one place where they could be; that place was Midas’s office; I needed to get access to that room; I could only get that access from the main man himself and to persuade him, my most feminine wiles would have to be employed, to their fullest extent!

I believed I was ready. After my trip to the lingerie emporium I reckoned I had everything I needed to put my plan into effect, everything except the courage to go through with it, perhaps. I was determined not to be defeated, however. I owed that much to Gloria.

Counting on Mildred’s expertise and years of experience, I believed that the intimate underpinnings I would be wearing had what it took when it came to making myself irresistible to Midas, though there was always an element of chance when depending on such calculations. Of course, it could have been that the lady had sold merely sold me the most expensive item in the store, but I discounted that as a possibility. I had trusted the woman.

“You must make the most of that narrow waist of yours” she had insisted as she helped me into an exquisite steel-boned corset which had been created from a dazzling confection of pink and white satin and lace. “That is the secret to sweeping the male of the species off their feet. Your most telling assets are here and here.” The woman indicated the portions of my anatomy that lay above and below the garment. “By emphasising them and sculpting their form like this, you will render yourself amazingly attractive. No man on the face of the earth could be insensible of your charms.”

How accurate her estimation was would be tested this very day. At a crucial point I intended to reveal all and overcome any resistance the casino boss might offer. How precisely that revelation would take place and what would I wear over my déshabillé were the two matters which required to be planned with utmost care if I were to succeed. It had taken considerable thought and time to map out every last detail.

When the fateful day dawned, I spent so long preparing myself that by the time I’d was ready I found that I’d missed breakfast. No matter. Several energetic butterflies were dancing a jig in my insides so vigorously that I had no appetite and in any case my waist was so compressed by my constricting shapewear that there was little room for any food. Over all my finery, I put on the grey trench coat which I’d borrowed for the occasion. I would be going out in the cool of the morning so that wearing a coat would not appear odd in anyway.

When I reached the hotel lobby I found that my co-worker was there ahead of me. Connie was preparing to leave, dressed for her work at the horse-riding place.

“Got to go!” she exclaimed as I greeted her.

“Me too. I’ve got an important day ahead. I’ll explain another time but keep your fingers crossed for me.”

Connie beamed her pleasure. “No problem. Catch you later.” With that she was gone.

When I arrived at my workplace, as an accredited employee of the casino I had no trouble in gaining admittance. I visited the restroom and checked my make-up in the mirror. It would have to be perfect if my plan was to have any chance of success. After ten minutes spent putting the finishing touches to it I was finally satisfied. I took a deep breath and set forth upon my quest.

I made my way to Midas’s sanctum and summoned up all my courage before tapping on the door. He opened it himself and ushered me in with a smile and a “You’re looking good.” The welcoming compliment was an unexpected boost for my confidence.

I gave him back my most winning smile.

“What can I do for you, Jennifer?”

“Apologies for taking up your time, sir, but I just called by to see whether you were happy with how I’ve performed my duties these last few nights. I’m finding this place so enjoyable to be part of and so different from anything I’ve experienced before that I’m really hoping you think I fill the role. I love working here.”

Though the neck of my trench coat wasn’t unduly low it was tight across my chest and emphasised the size of that part of my body. I arched my back to make sure the man noticed. “I so want to measure up to your standards.”

“Oh, I think your measurements are just fine” Midas grinned “as I’m sure you are well aware. Just look at you, all wrapped up like some little virgin from Sunday school. What are you trying to pull, honey?”

“Pull? Oh, I hope you don’t think I’m that sort of girl” I replied breathily. “I do try to look my best but I’m just an old-fashioned girl underneath.”
I revolved slowly before him, continuing to thrust out my chest and giving him what I hoped was an alluring smile.

The man needed no more encouragement. “Why, you little minx!”

Next moment I was in his arms and being soundly kissed. When we came up for air, I pulled away.

“Oh Mr Klondyke! You’re rushing me. Give me a moment please.

I laid my purse down carefully on one of the couches then turned back to him eagerly, all anticipation.

Midas laughed roughly. “I knew you were asking for it, you little tease!” He threw his jacket off while I unfastened my trenchcoat. He peeled it off my shoulders and gasped. The surprise I’d intended was complete.

In deciding what to put on over my glamorous lingerie I had found nothing suitable… so that was exactly what I’d chosen to wear over it. Nothing! After standing stock still and gaping at my semi-dressed body for a few seconds Midas recovered himself and grabbed me again. This was going much better than I could have expected. To help things along, I kissed him back this time. I’ve been told that I’m a good kisser and on this occasion I was sure that my efforts were warmly appreciated. Midas’s mouth, cheeks and neck soon bore the imprint of my lipstick and for good measure I made sure that his collar did too.

I pressed my bust harder against his chest and ruffled his hair. I could feel his excitement growing against my belly and when I opened my mouth, his tongue darted inside. One of the man’s hands clamped me firmly to his torso while the other massaged my butt. It felt good, unexpectedly so! Aagh! What was happening with me, I wondered. I had no leisure to dwell on the subject, however.

Next moment I could feel myself losing control as the casino boss’s roving hand swept up and under my lacy panties.

With a supreme effort, “Oh Midas!” I exclaimed in gentle protest “not on our first time together”.

Actually, I had a more pressing reason for limiting the horny man’s exploration of what lay beneath my underwear. I was determined that he remain convinced that I was ‘all girl’!

However it was vital to retain his interest, so I pulled him down onto a sofa and repositioned his hands where he could massage my breasts. He needed no further encouragement and gave them his undivided attention. I was getting turned on myself, too much so to ask myself why.

Instinctively I slid my own hand down to the front of his pants and began to rub the bulge I found there. It felt enormous! Our breathing was getting heavier by the minute but just when I thought he was about to explode, our petting was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

“Oh, just leave it!” I urged, but Midas grimaced and looked at his wristwatch.

“No” he groaned. “I’d better take it. It will be Jocasta.”

Five minutes later he put the phone down. “She’s about to come over. Sorry honey, but we had better pick this up another time.” He took out a comb and started to groom his hair.

I gasped in mock astonishment. “But you can’t see her looking like that. My lipstick is all your face. And your shirt! Heavens!”

Midas regarded the offending item of clothing with disfavour. “You silly little… girl!” he expostulated. “What the f*** were you thinking?”

I smiled winningly at my new employer and shrugged. “You must have got me a little too excited, darling.” I opened my purse and produced a hairbrush and my makeup. “I’d better go too, but I need to make myself a little more presentable first.”

“Don’t be too long about it” he snarled. “Hell! I gotta run!”

“See you this evening” I replied, but the man had gone.

After a speedy cosmetic repair session, I slipped over to the door and listened. There was no sound. I was unsure how long Midas would leave me alone in his office so without delay I began my search.

A rapid scan of the drawers of his desk revealed nothing of interest, save for an automatic in the second drawer down. The presence of a firearm was only to be expected, I reasoned. A tall filing cabinet stood to one side. It was locked, but I’d noticed that the tray in the top drawer of the desk had held a set of keys. I retrieved it and, behold, one of them fitted. The top drawer of the cabinet was packed full of files in alphabetical order. Very methodical and it made it easy for me to start looking for anything I might recognise, though not very sure what that might be. I pressed on, rifling eagerly through the remaining drawers, hoping I would know it when I saw it.

In the lowest I came across what I was in search of, a folder labelled Price. I pulled it open to see inside a number of papers. I was about to take it out for further examination when I heard footsteps approaching, the clack-clack of a woman’s heels growing louder and at the sound I froze.

How could I escape discovery?

Chapter 25 – Trapped

I had no plausible excuse prepared for my presence in Midas’s office, and my alluring under things were all too visible. My first impulse was to hide… but where? I grabbed my coat and scurried behind the door, instantly regretting my imprudence in not putting my covering garment on before starting my search. I tried desperately to make myself as small as possible.

The sound of heels drew closer and closer. I shut my eyes tight in anticipation of discovery, illogically, as if being unable to see the person who was about to discover me would somehow render me invisible! I also mouthed a silent prayer. Whichever remedy was more effective remains unclear, but what I do know is that the woman who had approached Midas’s office halted in the doorway, evidently surveying the room from that vantage point. A step further and she would have had me in view.

Then disaster loomed! On Midas’s couch and in full view lay my silly little purse which I had omitted to pick up. The wretched thing taunted me with imminent discovery. I held my breath for what seemed like an age but was probably only for seconds. While I did so, the visitor was clearly engaged in surveying the room. Help! I was about to exhale from sheer necessity, when I heard Jocasta’s petulant exclamation. “Drat the fool! Where is he?”

With that she turned on her heel and marched off, leaving me slumped immobile against the wall, offering silent thanks for my narrow escape. That was too close a call for comfort. My impulse was to leave the perilous vicinity of the office with all speed. I would try and return at a more auspicious moment. I put on my coat but then the temptation to use the present time was strong and I took out the Price folder again. What was I about? I really ought not ride my luck any further and scolded myself for my folly. I put the thing hastily back in the filing cabinet.

As I did so the label on the folder which had lain adjacent to the Price one caught my eye and it occasioned me no little alarm. The word Persuaders seemed to smack me between the eyes. This was scary. I closed up the cabinet and returned the keys to the desk before making a sharp exit. I had to get to a phone and fast!

I drove quickly back to the hotel. I desperately wanted to speak to Guy to let him know what I’d found. Also, I hoped to formulate some way of robbing the Midas’s office of the rest of its secrets. When I called the ex-agent’s place of work there was no reply. My boss must be out somewhere yet again, pursuing his own investigation. I would just have to be patient. In the meantime, it would be vital for me to keep stringing the casino owner along. It was clear that Midas had a thing for me which with a bit of adroit manipulation I ought to be able to turn to my advantage. While ever he continued to see me as an object of desire there ought to be opportunities which might allow me to solve the mystery.

As usual that evening, I made sure I was first into the changing room at the casino. Ideally, I needed to be alone when I changed into another of the place’s glittering uniforms. There was no guarantee that one of the other girls might not interrupt me in the middle of changing and the lack of coverage provided by the outfits I had worn so far had demanded a faultless tuck. Such an intimate manoeuvre could only be achieved in the absence of an audience. When I took off my street clothes therefore I kept on the lacy chemise I had been wearing. Beneath this veil of modesty I removed my underwear from the waist down before reaching behind me to unhook my bra in the manner which had been instilled by my mom’s training. She had insisted that I always dress and undress ‘like a real girl’ and now it was second nature. I did so without thinking.

As expected, the outfit which Jocasta had set aside for me to wear that evening was another skimpy affair, a little frock of the expected gold hue. With a strappy top it was barely long enough to hide the matching panties which complemented it. Of satin and lace, the latter were full cut in style, fortunately for a ‘girl’ like me. I hoisted my silken slip around my midriff and slid them up so I could position myself securely in them. Garter belt and stockings followed. I made sure to check in the mirror that nothing was amiss down below. It was all good! Next, I fastened a pair of strappy heels about my ankles and was about to slide into the dress itself when I heard voices in the corridor outside. The sound made me pause.

I couldn’t make out what the conversation was about but I recognised the identity of both the parties. At its end the dialogue was terminated with the clatter of heels as the other person stalked haughtily away. Spotting a potential opportunity, I grabbed my purse and left the changing room as if I was headed for the bathroom next door. I almost collided with a man who was standing in the doorway, none other than Midas himself. He was staring after his departed companion, Jocasta, shaking his head with a bewildered expression. I stumbled against him and would have let myself fall if he hadn’t caught me. Realising that his arms were suddenly full of a semi-clad girl, the casino supremo gasped confusedly. To press my advantage, I straightened up and stood myself immediately before his eyes where my figure could be viewed at its best. I gave him my deadly up from under glance.

“Oh, you gave me such a start, but then you saved me” I breathed. “Thank goodness it was only you. I wouldn’t like just anyone to hold me when I’m not fully dressed, or even to see me.”

Midas positively gaped, staring undisguisedly at my scantily covered breasts.

“I can see you like my slip” I giggled. “It’s pure silk and as I’m sure you can tell it feels beautifully soft. I’m not wearing a bra so it’s like the caress of heaven next to my skin. See.” I took his hand and placed it on my chest. “Don t be shy. You can touch, if you want to.”

The directness of my advances seemed to take the man completely aback.

“Er… You look very… charming, but… keep your voice down” he muttered, looking every minute more discomfited. “Jocasta is in two minds about you already. She’s only just left me and is sure to be keeping a close eye open!”

I put my hand to my mouth in feigned shock. “Sorry!” I whispered. On tiptoe, I reached up and putting my hands on his shoulders I brushed my lips against his cheek. “I’ve been thinking about us all day, darling? I hope you have too. When can we be together again?”

Midas glanced about him warily and shook his head. “Not now! Not here!” he hissed. “In a couple of days perhaps. I’m away on business tomorrow, but er… after that...”

I put on a pouty face, to show my disappointment.

“We will have to be patient” he temporised.

I bridled some more. “I hate that word. Here let me.” I retrieved a tissue from my purse, moistened it with my tongue and removed all trace of lipstick from his face.

He put his hands on my waist and pulled me to him. “Only a couple of days, my dear. It’s hard, I know.”

I pushed his shoulder playfully. “Well… as long as it stays ‘hard’ for me” I whispered with a conspiratorial grin and then with over-exaggerated caution I stepped past him into the changing room, pressing my hip hard against his torso as I did so. With a final flutter of my eyelids, I closed the door on my would-be lover and resumed readying myself for the evening’s work.

It was late when I got back to my room that night. Fortunately as it happened, Connie was too tired for much conversation. After she had retired to bed, I’d started to undress but then, remembering there was something I must do before turning in, I hastily threw a wrap about my shoulders and crept down to the lobby to call Guy’s number. I was counting on there being no one about to see me in my partially-dressed condition.

Though the hour was late, I reckoned, if I disturbed his rest, all well and good.

“Jennifer. Have you any idea how late it is?” The man’s voice sounded grumpy.

“Every idea, but I needed to speak to you urgently.” Briefly I brought him up to speed with my findings of the morning. My discovery of the file on Raymond Price intrigued the ex-agent. Apparently, however, it provided insufficient cause for his sleep to have been disrupted. “Is that what you woke me up to tell me?”

When I told him of Midas’s connection to the gang it was a different matter, however.

“Jennifer, get out of there! What you are doing is way too risky. I’d have imagined that your time in witness protection would have taught you better. It’s too hazardous!”

I was taken aback. It appeared my having been in the programme was no secret to the man, after all. Coupled with his previous knowledge of my transgender status it meant that as far as the ex-agent was concerned, I was an open book. Illogically I felt cheated somehow. A girl likes to have something to keep in reserve, especially from a handsome man.

I temporised. “It’s okay. I’m as sure as anyone can be that the Persuaders haven’t connected the person they were looking for with me. Besides, I have protection. I’ve brought the gun with me.”

“That thing! That’s no use. The firing pin’s been removed. Why do you think I let you keep it?”

My hackles rose at hearing this. How could he let me delude myself in that way? And another thing, the wretched sidearm made my purse weigh about a ton!

Oblivious to my fit of pique, Guy ploughed on. “The gun was only for show so I agree with your view that the person who intruded into your apartment was only trying to frighten you off, but… this gangland connection creates a different level of danger altogether.”

“As long as the people here regard me as a female, and I’m going flat out to make sure of that, I ought to be safe as houses. I’m so close to unravelling this puzzle. I just know it!”

Guy was silent for some time. I could hear the anxiety in his voice when he finally broke the silence. “I don’t like it” he sighed. “I really don’t. You need to have a definite plan to make chancing your arm that way worthwhile. If you are just winging it, then the risks are too high.”

“I have a plan, a perfect plan.” I tried to sound confident. “We need to know what is in that folder and I can find out. Can you come over here tomorrow night and bring that miniature camera? I will need to borrow it.”

I spent the rest of the day smugly congratulating myself on my cleverness. All I needed was a few minutes undisturbed in Midas’s office. In his absence the room would be locked but then he would be back tomorrow. I’d noticed that about half-way through each evening the casino boss would emerge with Jocasta on his arm, and would complete a tour of inspection, as it were, ensuring that everything in his domain was running smoothly. Then they would stand and watch the stage show for some time. One of those occasions ought to provide me with the window of opportunity I needed. With them both occupied, it would be child’s play to slip into Midas’s inner sanctum and make photostat copies of the documents which I felt so sure contained the means of unloosing my Gordion knot.

I was all over excited in anticipation. I couldn’t wait.

Chapter 26 – Gold strike

On the night of Midas’s return, I was in the green room at the club getting myself ready as usual when I became aware of a fatal flaw in my plan. The glittering gold dress Jocasta had had chosen for me was the problem. Not only was it backless and featured a cleavage which plunged to the waist, but its skirt was tiny. What was even more troubling was that the whole thing was skintight. Where oh where could I conceal a camera even as compact as the one Guy was to bring me? Only by swallowing the thing! The miniature piece of kit would still have been visible if I tried to hide it in my panties!

As far as I could see my plan of action was a complete frost and the ex-agent would have good reason to berate me for a wasted journey on his part, not to mention my running pointless risks.

No! I would have to think again, but by the time my co-workers had arrived I was no nearer a solution. Moodily I set about my chores. It wasn’t until much later when I was engaged in clearing empty glasses from one of the tables that inspiration returned to me.

Among the glassware I had retrieved was a tall beaker half full of liquid and ice. That was nothing remarkable. We served cocktails in dozens of identical vessels every night, but this one was subtly different. The tumbler was of a dark smoky glass which was obscure enough to hide whatever the vessel contained. In a flash inspiration sped through me and my imagination took flight. It might conceivably work. The glass was dark enough to conceal… well… anything small enough to fit inside it. Casually I poured its residual contents into another empty glass and placed both on my drinks tray. All I had to do now was to find my mentor, collect the miniature camera from him as planned and my scheme would be back on track but... where, oh where was Guy?

In making my rounds I had visited every possible place, without result. Surely the man wouldn’t let a girl down in her hour of need. Perhaps he’d been held up somewhere, I conjectured, but time wasn’t on my side.

The minutes passed and my anxiety levels rose as each one ticked by. Then, at last, I clocked him. No pun intended! Though I hadn’t seen him enter the room I glimpsed my associate standing at the bar. He appeared to be toying with a martini. I breathed a sigh of relief and then, when I was about to make my way over to him, disaster struck.

“Put that tray down, Jennifer, and come with me.” The casino owner’s words sounded in my ear like the voice of doom. “Jocasta has been delayed and I need a pretty woman on my arm to make my tour. I can’t think of anyone better to take her place, my dear, than your lovely self, can you?” The racketeer’s face bore a self-satisfied smirk. “No doubt it will give the folks something to gossip about!”

He clearly thought he was paying me a compliment, and I had no choice but to do as I was bid. I slipped my hand under his elbow and tried my best to look as if I was enjoying myself as he paraded me about the rooms. I knew his choosing me for this role had resulted from the shameless way I’d thrown myself at him but it couldn’t have been timed any worse. Another worry was that if Jocasta were to return and see me elevated to play the part of Midas’s consort it might prove to be the final straw. I prayed that the lady for whom I had been substituted would remain a no-show.

As we progressed around the bar Midas stopped and chatted and sopped and chatted again, while I tried to hide the fever of impatience which consumed me under a fixed smile. We came across Alexander and I had to rouse myself to do even better. The little man was all over attention to me.

When his opening compliment smote my ears I could have died. “You have certainly done yourself proud, Midas” he called to the maestro. “Swapping this little beauty for that old sourpuss you usually drag around with you is a smart move. If you want my opinion, this one’s a keeper!”

There was much more in the same vein, and I cringed inwardly again and again while he lauded me to the skies in front of anyone who happened to be listening. When he had done, however, his eulogy had one good outcome. It decided Midas that perhaps he ought to exercise more caution in selecting a substitute companion.

“Thank you, my dear” he muttered to me. “You have done admirably but it’s best if we separate now, I think. The other girls will be hard-pressed to keep up with their work without you.”

That suited me and I breathed more easily as he took himself off to watch the show. Better still, I was able to retrieve my drinks tray, on which sat the all-important obscure glass. Holding it aloft I went across to where Guy was standing, wiggling my butt stylishly in the hope that anyone regarding me would be focussed on its gyrations instead of looking at what I was carrying.

“Drink up, sir!” I exclaimed to the ex-agent. “I have something here which you may find more your size.”

I held out my hand for his glass. Looking somewhat bemused, the sleuth obediently downed his martini, while I waited, preening myself before him. Well, I reckoned I was very seductively dressed, and the opportunity was too good to pass up! When his drink was finished, I took the empty glass from him, and placing it on my tray, picked up the smoky one and handed it over.

“I think you will find this one more suited to your needs” I smiled. “I’ll call back for it when you’re ready.” I gave a meaning glance to accompany my words, hoping against hope that my mentor would have wit enough to understand what I was intending him to do.

I walked away and busied myself over on the other side of the room, waiting for the right moment. The minutes seemed to drag endlessly until at last I observed Midas settle himself comfortably at a table to watch the floor show. Jocasta was still nowhere to be seen. I felt reasonably confident that if she were to show up, she would straightaway join the casino boss. In the meantime, I was a free agent. Now was the chance to put my plan into action.

I crossed over to Guy and stretched out my hand. “I think you have finished with that, sir?” I smiled. He placed it gently in my fingers. There was a tiny clink as he did so which told me that the glass was no longer empty. He had understood after all! I moved away with my tray held high above my head. No-one hindered my exit into the lobby. So far, my ruse appeared to be working well!

“Drink for Mr Klondyke” I announced to the man stationed on the door and walked purposefully over to the office. Once inside I lost no time in checking that I was in fact alone. There was no sign of anyone there, so taking the little camera out of the dark tumbler, I prepared to go to work.

I extracted the keys from the desk drawer and with trembling fingers, unlocked the filing cabinet. I pounced upon the folder labelled Price. With bated breath I opened it and took out its sole content, a notebook. I felt sure that whatever secrets this place held were about to be revealed and that I held the clue in my hand. I opened the slim volume to find … nothing. The pages were empty. I checked again anxiously and still came up with a blank. There was nothing for me to photograph. Frustration!

I was about to replace the book when, despairingly, I examined it one last time. Holding it up to the light I was rewarded by the sight of faint indentations on the first page. Along the binding there were traces which showed that a page had been pulled out. Those faint impressions could only be marks left by whatever writing had been on the sheet above. There was certain to be a way of discovering what had been written, but it would require expert handling, so I needed to get this to Guy. There, however, lay another puzzle. How was I to do so without being discovered in the act?

Gingerly I pulled the top sheet of paper out of the notebook, careful not to tear it. There was no way of folding the paper up small without impairing the legibility of those impressions and my skimpy gold costume did not abound in places of concealment in any case. In fact, there were precisely none! I made a single fold and placed the sheet upon my drinks tray. Fortunately, that was dry. With the tumbler placed on top of it the page resembled nothing more remarkable than a napkin.

Now for the other folder. The one whose exterior was emblazoned with the name of the very gang from whom I was still a fugitive. Feverishly I photographed the contents, sheet after sheet of paper. When I had done, I placed the camera back inside the tumbler. All I needed to do now was to get out of there with the precious results of my espionage intact.

I returned the folders to their places in the filing cabinet and, breathing more easily, locked it. Success! I was in the middle of returning the keys to the desk drawer when the sound of impending disaster came to my ears. A clatter of heels approached the door. With that confident stride, it could only be one person.

Jocasta!

There was no time for me to hide and escape discovery. Now was the time to put a back-up plan into effect except there was one small problem. I hadn’t actually made one! I would have to improvise.

Chapter 27 – Caught

Hastily I threw the keys into their place in the desk drawer and slammed it shut. I had just time to retrieve my tray and restore the smoky glass to its position on top of the paper when the office door was flung open to herald the entrance of one formidable woman. More than ever, I needed to have my wits about me and all the luck in the world if I was to get myself and the intelligence I’d gleaned away in one piece.

“What on earth… what are you doing here?” she vociferated.

Jocasta stood over me menacingly. Arms akimbo, she simmered like a dormant volcano. Improvising wildly, I addressed my interlocutor airily.

“Oh hi! I merely was wondering whether Mr Midas wanted a drink or anything, so I popped in to see. He isn’t here. Do you know where he’s got to? Poor lamb! He works so hard. Perhaps I’ll can catch him in one of the other rooms.” I gave her my best innocent smile.

“You will do no such thing, you impertinent little tramp. I’ll thank you to remember that I provide for any needs that Mr Klondyke may have. You will wait until you are asked. I’ve heard all about your strutting around on his arm tonight. What can he have been thinking? Get back to your duties at once and don’t let me find you in here again.”

I shrugged unconcernedly and pouted. “Okay, I’ll go. I was just trying to be helpful. See! I was making myself useful collecting empty glasses. Are there any others in here?” I glanced around unconcernedly. “No!”

Jocasta glowered as I trotted past her, my tray held high. It occurred to me that it might be politic to for me to get clean away. Perhaps I ought to contrive a way of leaving the employ of the Golden Touch sooner than I’d originally intended.

Acting on impulse, “You know, I think Midas has taken a bit of a shine to me” I remarked confidentially. “It’s quite common for men of a certain age to have a thing for younger women, of course, but I think he’s rather cute!”

The volcano erupted. “How dare you! I warned you about this and I’ve had enough of your insolence. You’re fired” she spluttered. “Get out! Get out and don’t ever come back!”

My face registered alarm, mostly feigned, and I beat a hasty retreat. The outcome was only what could be expected and should work in my favour. I had my exit, a plausible way out.
 
I flounced across the lobby, conscious of Jocasta’s inimical gaze boring holes in my retreating back. Undeterred, I gave the man on the inner door a sunny smile and entered the bar. I tripped across to where Guy was standing and handed him the glass containing the camera with a look which I hoped conveyed urgent meaning. I whispered, “You will find what you need in here and”, slipping him the sheet of paper, “this as well.”

Our eyes met and locked.

“I’m out of here!” I mouthed, turned on my heel and ran from the room. I headed straight to the green room to change out of my gilded trappings and into my street clothes.

As I stood in front of the mirror in the golden figure-hugging outfit, I experienced a pang of reluctance to take the costume off for what was certain to be the last time. Over the last few days, I had gotten used to the thrill of knowing that the glittering image to be seen in the glass was myself.

It gave me butterflies!

I kicked off my shoes and peeled off the dress. Before I removed the matching panties, however, I grabbed my skirt and slipped it on, mindful to avoid standing there in my birthday suit for even a second. Once that was secure around my waist, I reached underneath and wriggled the shimmering underwear off my hips. I had just let the panties slide to the floor when I was interrupted. The door opened and a female figure entered.

I had just known that was going to happen! I felt self-conscious in the extreme in my near naked state, I straightened up and covered my boobs with my hands, in the meantime endeavouring to step out of the panties. Somehow, they clung to me, wrapping themselves around my ankles. Help!

It was fortunate that the person who had broken in on my déshabillé turned out to be none other than Connie, someone I could count as a friend. Even so, to be closeted with even her when wearing only a flimsy skirt was highly disconcerting. Feebly I kicked my feet, in an attempt to disentangle them but to no avail.

“What’s the matter? Why are you getting changed?” she demanded. “Jennifer, tell me what’s wrong!”

“Nothing to be concerned about” I declared. “I’ve just been fired, that’s all. It’s fine.” Looking into her disbelieving gaze, I reassured her.

“Honestly, I’m actually okay with it.”

“You poor thing!” Connie’s voice was full of pity. “Being so brave about it an’ all. Come here!”

Next moment I was enveloped in an intimate hug. I tried to control my natural bodily response, but I couldn’t help but be somewhat aroused. The clothing which the sympathetic girl wore covered little of her own lissom body, while mine hid less of me. This was so embarrassing! The surgical tape which restricted my little member was hard put to it to contain what would have been a full-blown hard-on. I silently offered a prayer that the attractive young innocent hadn’t noticed anything.

“Erm… Thanks… I ought to finish getting changed” I murmured.

The girl herself was suddenly overcome with embarrassment. “Er… right…” She released me and stood staring at my naked chest with a confused smile on her face. “I’d better leave you, then.” Her next attempt at carrying off the situation didn’t help. “Oh! Like I said before, your boobies are amazing! Wish I had half as much…” She laughed awkwardly and turned her back on me.

Unsurprisingly I completed my change of clothes in record time; my own panties, bra and a sleeveless top that complemented the little skirt which had been the sole defender of my modesty moments before. Finally, I slipped on my heels, had a last check in the mirror and then I was ready.

“Okay. I’m decent now!”

Connie turned back and smiled ruefully. “Sorry. Are you really not sad about leaving?”

“Yes, it’s fine. It was great fun at first but isn’t for me. Getting to know you has been the best thing and I’ll miss that, of course. We must keep in touch.”

Another hug followed then the girl left me to get back to her duties. Finally I could get out of there!

At least I reckoned I could, but an unforeseen obstacle halted me in my tracks. On leaving the changing room, Connie had been detained in the corridor by none other than Jocasta herself, and they were deep in conversation. My first impulse had been to march past them with my head in the air, but the mention of my name stopped me in my tracks. I was curious to know what was being said and hung back in the alcove by the green room door.

Immediately it became clear that the younger woman was being cross-questioned and none too gently. “…and how long have you known her? Answer me!”

“I will if you give me a minute.” I was glad to see that Connie was standing her ground. I hated to watch anyone being bullied on my account.

“I only met Jennifer once before she started working here. She came to the equestrian centre where I work part-time. She was inquiring about the terms of our riding arrangements. That was all.”

“Didn’t you think her turning up here too much of a coincidence? It is for my liking. What else did she want?”

“Nothing else, really. Honestly. We only spoke for five minutes. Oh, I guess she did ask about the old ranch.” The girl’s voice faltered. She shook herself as if to get dismiss an unwelcome idea before resuming. “But of course there was nothing I could tell her about that, so that was all we spoke of. Can I go now? There’s so much to do without Jennifer. We’re one down tonight.”

“No. Before you go… tell me about this old ranch Jennifer was interested in.”

“Oh, it’s just an old place that closed years ago. Long before my time. It’s pretty much derelict now...

Though the interrogation continued, their voices receded as the two women made their way down the corridor. From my point of vantage, I could hear no more, but one thing worried me as I peeped out, the expression on Jocasta’s face. It had turned from anger to what can only be termed exultation. What was she so pleased about? It was frustrating. Just when I seemed to be on the point of uncovering something to shed light on the puzzle, there was another twist and the cloud of mystery returned. I would have plenty to think about on my drive home.

After I left the casino for what probably would be the last time, I made the briefest of stops at my lodgings. I settled my tab and picked up my things. I left a note for Connie, promising I’d phone her soon and then I was on the road. At last! I felt an impatience to get home, an impatience that mirrored my desire to see Guy in the morning and learn what he had made of the possible clues I’d presented him with.

I was beginning to see the light.

Chapter 28 – Chez Gloria

It was late when I got back to the town which in recent months I’d begun to regard as home. I was exhausted after all that had occurred in the last 24 hours and longed simply to get back to my apartment and collapse into bed. There was an obstacle to that, however. I’d made a promise to Gloria that I would stay with her on my return and… well, a promise is a promise, even though I felt very reluctant to honour this one. For one thing the effort of meeting anyone was outfacing and for another I hadn’t prepared the inevitable explanations which my client would require of me. I debated with myself as I drove, should I, or shouldn’t I, should I, or shouldn’t I? Surely, I could be excused just for a single night.

In the end my decision was a compromise. I made a deal with myself. I would drive past the Simpson mansion and see if there were any lights burning. If the house was dark, I could surmise that all the occupants had retired to rest and I would be justified in postponing my ‘return’ until the following day.

By the time I reached the outskirts of town I was regretting my decision. I was almost asleep at the wheel. I somehow dredged up enough energy to head in the direction of Gloria’s house and pulled to a halt on the road outside, the engine still running. I sat for some moments before I raised my eyes to view the building and groaned inwardly when I did so. The house was not in darkness. Most significantly there was bright illumination across the porch and in the drawing room. It appeared that my client was keeping late hours. I sought desperately for any straw of an excuse to cling to. Perhaps she had guests! I would have to check more closely.

I turned the car in at one end of the sweep that formed the driveway. If visitors’ cars were present, then I could glide quietly out of the exit and away. I would have given myself a sop to my conscience by doing all I reasonably could to keep my word. No such luck befell me. The expanse of gravel was empty of vehicles. I drew to a halt close by the front door and turned off the motor. While I sat for a moment and drew a deep breath in preparation for alighting, I became vaguely aware of something glittering in the radiance of the lights.
Before I could determine what that might be, a voice broke the stillness.

“At last, you’re here!” Unnoticed until that instant, Gloria had been standing watching my arrival. She was clad from head to toe in a sequinned gown of shimmering silver. The effect was spectacular! “I knew you would come tonight, dear. Call it a presentiment.”

She opened the door for me, and I struggled out, cramped after so many hours at the wheel. I stretched myself expansively to shake off the stiffness of travel, but my action was misinterpreted as an invitation. The lady of the house threw herself into my outstretched arms and wrapped every inch of herself around me so tightly it would have been difficult to determine where one of our bodies ended and the other began.
It was some moments before any word was spoken.

In the end it was Gloria that broke the silence. “Come, dearest. Let me help you with your things. I sent Millie to bed an hour ago.”

“Oh, thank you. You are so kind.”

“It’s nothing, darling. Come!”

Meekly I followed my hostess inside and up to the guest bedroom. “Shower or bath?” she queried with a smile.

“Oh, bath please!” The prospect of luxuriating in endless hot water was enticing, if I could stay awake long enough.

Moments later I was immersed to my neck in deliciously scented foam. My fatigue fell away as I relaxed in the soothing bubbles. The strain of the last 24 hours was washed into oblivion.

Gloria put her head around the door, her face wreathed in smiles. She came in and perched on the side of the tub. “I can tell that’s exactly what you need. You look like a new woman. It must have been a tough day.”

I nodded my thanks. “I’ll be good as new very soon” I assured her.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Take your time. I’ll lay out some night things for you. Then I’ll get ready for bed myself.”

After a while the water was starting to cool, so I ran in some more hot. Bliss! The second time this happened the temptation to keep refreshing the hot water was strong. It would be wonderful to linger endlessly there, but conscious of the lateness of the hour and that I was likely to be keeping my hostess from her slumbers I roused myself and emerged dripping from the bathtub. I dried myself off and tiptoed softly into the adjoining room. I have to confess that I was curious to see what exotic nightwear might be awaiting me. Well, given what I’d experienced of Gloria’s fashion preferences, curiosity was perfectly natural!

I was not disappointed. On the bed I found the most wondrous confection. In a silky material so sheer it might be made of gossamer the night gown I held up before the mirror was in a babydoll style of the palest shade of lemon yellow and ornamented with delicate white lace. There was no way that this creation was intended merely for sleeping in. Although the set included a matching pair of full cut panties, it was shockingly indecent. In addition to the transparency of the fabric the little nightie was so brief that I guessed it would barely cover the wearer’s crotch.

Thoughts of what might ensue if I should wear it filled my brain and my heart skipped a beat. The possibilities were intriguing and endless but whether I actually desired any of them was less certain.

It was hard to decide in the moment how far I was prepared to meet Gloria’s advances. My naïveté in not foreseeing that this situation would arise didn’t help. To buy myself thinking time I lay the nightgown down and returned to the bathroom. I spent some minutes working on my complexion. I rearranged my hair, refreshed my mascara and redrew my lips in a colour calculated to complement the hue of the nightie. I checked my nails to see that the shade of their polish also went.

Once all that had been accomplished, I could delay the decision no longer, but I was no nearer reaching any sort of conclusion. I scrutinised my image in the glass once more and laughed out loud. It had just occurred to me why it had been so important to select my makeup colours so precisely. My subconscious mind was already made up. I was committed to wearing the alluring set and to blazes with the consequences. How far I allowed things to go thereafter was entirely up to me, or at least I hoped so.

I cast aside the all-enveloping towel I had wrapped around me and walked purposefully back into the bedroom in my birthday suit. Deliberately but reverently, I slipped the beguiling nightwear over my head and positioned its straps on my shoulders. Before arranging my boobs inside the bodice, I allowed the tiny skirt to fall slowly down. my eager flesh revelling in the caress of the slippery material. The sensation was heavenly.

The pair of matching silken panties sensually slid up my legs and over my ample hips and butt. I carefully tucking my private parts into them and was rewarded to see that they provided a sufficient degree of modesty, almost.

Then I turned to go in search of my hostess and, presto, there she was standing behind me, looking as sultry as a night in the tropics. I wondered how long she had been standing there. How much had she seen? There was no answer to my unspoken question.

Gloria was clad in a backless gown of a bright blue damask which clung sensuously to her lithe frame. “I hope you like what you see” she declared calmly. “I see that my little offering is acceptable. It gives me inordinate pleasure to see you dressed so.”

Coolly, she walked over to stand beside me and reaching out her arm, allowed her hand to cup my left breast.

I gasped in a combination of shock and pleasure as the thrill of being touched in that way sped through me. “Aah!” I moaned, involuntarily.

She took my hand in her other one and placing it between her own breasts, she proceeded to guided it downwards, my fingertips brushing her sinewy torso, until my hand had traversed its full extent. There she halted its progress and pressed it firmly against that part of her anatomy. It was borne upon my consciousness that unlike myself she had not chosen to tuck!

My knees turned to jelly as Gloria’s right hand began to knead my breast. She raised her other one from mine and putting it behind my head kissed me fiercely on the lips. The kiss seemed never to end. I didn’t want it to.

“Come to bed” she commanded when we eventually broke apart,

There was no resistance left within me. I had no choice but to yield!

Chapter 29 – On the trail

The following morning, I was woken by my hostess entering the bedroom carrying a laden tray.

“You’re awake at last. I’ve brought us breakfast and most importantly coffee. You must have been exhausted, darling. Last night you fell asleep in my arms.” These words were accompanied by a reproachful moue of disappointment across her lovely features.

“What?”

My memory of events was hazy, but clearly, my bedfellow had not been satisfied by my performance, whatever that had been. I tried to remember what had ensued when we had lain down together.

“Sorry” I stammered.

“Oh, it’s fine” she spoke in a forgiving tone, then archly, “It was after our second time, after all. Darling, I never would have put you down as such a tiger. I was well rewarded for my vigil.”

I had no recollection… I must have looked my confusion for amid peals of laughter she teased “Your face! It’s okay. I’m teasing. Actually, when we got to bed, I began to stroke your neck to relax you, and you went out like a light. And that, my angel, was that. I tried everything legitimate that I knew but you were beyond rousing.”

I coloured scarlet at the ideas with which her disclosure was filling my mind.

“All the same” she continued. “I’ll be expecting you to compensate me this morning. I’m just itching to get my hands on that big round ass of yours.” Gloria accompanied this sentiment with another of the archest of looks.

“Don’t fret!” she concluded. “We will soon have the house to ourselves. It’s Millie’s day off and she’s just going.” She grinned mischievously.
“And… I want to climax at least twice before we’ve done!”

As if to verify her words the noise of an external door closing came in through the window, whose sash was ajar and whose drapes had been drawn aside. This was followed by the sounds of a car being readied for a journey. I slipped from under the covers and evading my hostess’s anticipating arms crossed the room to see what was going on.

As I watched, a vehicle emerged from the back of the house and headed past my window to the exit gates. I caught a glimpse of the maid’s figure behind the wheel. Then it was gone.

I turned to see Gloria eyeing me lustfully. “There, you see!” she pouted. “Now we’re finally alone. Darling, it’s just you and me.”

“Does Millie always go out on her day off?” I asked, curious to know more.

“Almost always.”

“And that’s her car?”

“Yes, that old grey station wagon, but don’t bother your head about it. Come! It’s time for us to continue… getting better acquainted.”

“No. I need to know. Where does she go?” My voice betrayed the sense of urgency I felt. My subconscious mind had somehow performed the feat which logic had denied me. Suddenly I understood the reason for the last look I had seen on Jocasta’s face, a look of triumph.

“Darling, this is silly. Who cares where the woman takes herself off to? Darling…?”

“It’s the key to the whole thing!” I exclaimed. “I have to go there.”

“No! You can’t. You mustn’t.” Then seeing the determined look on my face. “Really?”

“Yes, really, now. Better still, we’ll both go. There’s something I think you should see too.”

I began hurriedly retrieving my clothes. I was doubtful whether we would be in time. It took some serious persuasion to convince Gloria, but she acquiesced in the end. I had to make the concession that first we did justice to the breakfast she had brought and which as she repeatedly pointed out, had prepared with her own hands. More than an hour passed before we were dressed and on the road; minutes which I felt we could ill spare.

While I was waiting for Gloria to finish readying herself, I took the opportunity to make a phone call. I wanted to learn what secrets my raid on Midas’s office had laid bare, if any. My conversation with Guy was revelatory. At last, the tangled mystery showed signs of beginning to unravel.

Once we got going I drove fast and as I did, I filled Gloria in on some of the details; enough to get her to take our expedition a trifle more seriously. Up until then she had been disposed to regard the whole thing as some sort of game. The road before us began to climb into the hills, the change in scenery prompting cries of recognition from my passenger. It wasn’t long before she had guessed our ultimate destination.

“Oh, how precious! Darling, you are taking me to visit my old home. I have never been back since we moved away. I always thought it would be too painful to return there, but today I feel good about it. I’m so excited at the thought of seeing the place after all this time.”

When we arrived at the little town I took the same old road up to the ranch as before. I drove past the building and drew to a halt fifty yards farther up the hill. “It might be better if you wait here” I suggested to my companion. “I ought to check how the land lies.”

“Fine!” smiled my companion. “I’ll just stay and take in the sights, shall I? Actually, it would be no hardship. I’ll always love this view, but I’m coming with you.”

With her mirth ringing in my ears, we set off back down the road. I was undecided how I was going to play the coming interview. Perhaps I had better have insisted I come alone. Having Gloria as back-up gave me little moral support. Though I’d made Guy aware of what I was intending, I felt very vulnerable as we made our way down, accompanied only by the sound of our footsteps on the moist gravel.

I reached the gate and careful to make as little sound as possible I unlatched it and we slipped inside. A finger to my lips served to warn Gloria of the need for silence. A necessary precaution, I told myself, though there was no sign of life, but as I approached closer several vehicles came into view, parked at the side of the house. Their presence advertised the likelihood that more than one visitor would be within.

A grey station wagon certainly betrayed the identity of one of the callers and the sight reassured me that my guesswork had been accurate. There was also a battered looking pick-up of uncertain vintage, but what drew my eye was a sleek black Camaro which was clearly brand new. The Chevy looked entirely out of place against the woe-begone dwelling by which it had been parked.

The house appeared ramshackle and neglected. In the gentle breeze, the screen door banged to and fro as if to emphasise the dilapidated condition of its parent. Up close, however the dwelling seemed solid enough. It was not likely to fall down just yet. With as much confidence as I could muster, I stepped ahead of my client onto the front porch. The door to the interior was open.

“Hello!” I called. “Is anybody there? Hello!”

There was no response. I called again and waited. There was still no answer. I waited some more then cautiously stepped inside. Looking suitably anxious, Gloria followed tentatively, though she had less of an inkling than I as to what lay before us.

I found I had entered some kind of lobby. Dust was everywhere and it was evident that a colony of spiders had been busy in the corners. The occupant clearly didn’t believe in cleaning. Various doors led off from the passage, and I glanced from one to another, checking for any signs of activity. Listening carefully, a murmur of voices could be discerned from one of the rooms at the far end. Its door was only closed over, so I plumped for that to be the one to try.

I tiptoed forward and pulled the door wide. To my astonished gaze an individual came into view. It was… it had to be… a familiar figure, but not as I had seen her before.

Millie!

Chapter 30 – High noon

It was Millie. Yes, Millie!

In place of the dowdy servant I had encountered in past meetings, however, stood a tall, slender female, fashionably attired in a low-cut dress which showed the woman’s person to advantage. Tastefully, her shoes matched it perfectly. Gone were the spectacles, her hair was unconstrained by its tight pinning and loose about her shoulders. Her face was made up with a subtle application of cosmetics. The creature thus transformed may not have been exactly a head-turner but was certainly worth a second look!

I stepped inside the doorway, exclaiming as I did so. “Hello! The door was… open” I faltered. “The door was open and I shouted. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

In contrast to the building’s entrance hall, this part of the ranch was well cared for and well furnished. The contrast was striking. There were three other people in the room. Turned towards me as I stood in the entrance were Millie and, perched on a chaise in the centre of the room, the lady of the house. The latter was wearing a loose top and a smart skirt. She had paid more attention to her make-up than on the last occasion I’d seen her and looked younger and almost attractive, though even less pleased to see me than on the previous visit. I observed that the expressions on the faces of both were tinged with fear and I turned my attention to two other individuals. Both faced away from me.

The eyes of Meg and Millie were rivetted on a tall chair which stood before them, its back towards me. I followed their gaze to observe that its occupant appeared to be a tall woman with greying hair, which even from the back looked familiar.

A pregnant silence ensued which, when it was broken by a voice I recognised only too well, confirmed my deduction. “Now don’t stand on ceremony, you there in the doorway” drawled Jocasta’s voice. “Come in and join the party!”

“And take it nice and easy” snarled the harsh tones of the final player. On the other side of Jocasta, Midas was stood, the gun in the racketeer’s hand covering the two creatures who quailed before him. A steely glare consumed his usually handsome features.

Treading with utmost care I sidled into the room, as if by doing so the peril of the fraught situation I had walked into would somehow be lessened. Gloria hesitantly followed me. The reaction to her entrance by the room’s occupants could not have been more varied. Millie’s look of embarrassment was only as might have been expected on her employer being permitted to view how she was dressed. Meg Stevens’s posture looked most unnatural with one arm twisted behind her. She had squirmed around in her seat to face her visitors, and her face bore an almost mask-like passivity.

The countenances of the two confronting them were more in harmony with each other with mirrored scornful expressions. Only the degree of contempt was different, Jocasta’s being the most intense.

“Well, if it isn’t my old dance partner… or should I say, accomplice” she derided. “And how comes our ‘Ginger’ fairy to be here today? It’s quite an unexpected and most underwhelming pleasure to see you!”

Gloria made no reply but drew herself up to meet the jibe with a look of disdain.

“We were just doing the introductions when you and Jennifer barged in” continued the woman. “Now, Mrs… er Stevens, we’d like you to tell us what you know about a man who came here to make some inquiries a year or so ago. Soon after he disappeared but we know that before he did, he was searching for a spread that sounded pretty much like this place. He happened to be the brother of my partner here.”

At these words inspiration finally took complete hold of me. I felt suddenly assured that I understood at last. Every last thing had fallen into place in my mind.

“Why do you think it was this particular ranch he was interested in?” I interposed.

Jocasta looked surprised at my question. “What is that to you? Your little friend Connie let it slip, if you must know, though why you're interested, I can’t imagine. Her description tallied, when I finally dragged it out of her, if you must know. I could have guessed you would interfere, you little tramp!”

The angry woman glanced suspiciously from me to Midas and back again, the latter looking decidedly uncomfortable under that searching stare.
At the mention of Connie’s name, the woman Meg had given an involuntary gasp, the first sound she had uttered. In response Gloria grabbed my arm as recognition dawned upon her. I decided it was time for some answers.

“I came here to see our friend Meg here” I began. “Or, should I say our friend…”

“Arthur?!”

The brilliance of my intended revelation had been somewhat dimmed by the name being spoken by the person standing behind me. Gloria had at last made the connection and found her voice.

“Arthur! What…? How come? You’re supposed to be dead!”

The atmosphere could have been cut with a knife.

“Arthur, if it’s really you and you are really alive, then… who is that buried in the churchyard back there?”

Again, there was no response, so I filled in the blank myself.

“May I venture to suggest? It’s likely to be the body of a man with an unusual name… Klondyke… Auros Klondyke!”

“Auros…?” Gloria’s voice petered away leaving a silence which hung in the air. I had everyone’s attention.

Then it all happened. Before my words Midas had swivelled around to give his attention to my client and myself. Recovering from his surprise, he began to turn back to point it at the ‘woman’ of the house, but he was an instant too slow.

Then the reason for Meg/Arthur’s contorted posture became clear. She took the split-second opportunity offered to make her countermove. From amid the cushions behind her on the couch she pulled out an automatic and aimed it at the gunman. Both shots rang out simultaneously and one was sufficient to finish the casino owner. His firearm clattered from his hand as he hit the deck and lay lifeless.

“You’ve killed him!” screamed Jocasta and flung herself down to kneel by the side of her would-be paramour. Next instant she seized the fallen weapon. “That’s for Auros… and for Midas!” she spat as she fired it twice at Meg/Arthur who collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“You can rot in hell for taking them from me.” The words were ground out from between clenched teeth as Jocasta strode across and kicked her adversary’s firearm out of reach. She then backed away, gun in hand, glowering at us all

Arthur’s faithful attendant, Millie, recovered first. She threw herself over him as if in a vain attempt to shield him, but the time for that had long passed,

“You crazy bitch!” she shrieked hysterically. “You’ve shot him!” Looking incongruously distraught in her seductive trappings, she broke down and sobbed over the bleeding body while its assassin watched with a contemptuous smirk on her face.

Next moment the sound of running feet was heard, the door was flung wide and Guy sprang into the room, automatic in hand. “I heard gunfire!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “What…?”

Jocasta was quick to react. With remarkable agility she spun around and fired at the intruder, but in her haste the shot went high and wide.

The ex-agent’s weapon responded immediately. Too close to miss, the bullet fatally found its target and his aggressor collapsed to the floor, shot through the heart.

Guy stepped forward and knelt to feel for a pulse in the woman’s wrist. He shook his head. “She’s dead. I had no choice” he stated flatly. “I had to do it.”

Chapter 31 - Dénouement

I stepped to where Millie was huddled over Arthur, to check for any sign of life. “She… he is still breathing” I was able to report. The former was pressing a wad of material against her lover’s side. The pad was slowly darkening.

Gloria, tears coursing down her cheeks, fetched bandages and together with Millie, they bound the wounds more tightly, while I looked on helplessly. Guy found the phone and called for an ambulance and then the police. He covered the dead bodies each with a throw from the sofas.

“Arthur, how could you deceive me so?” sobbed his wife.

“Don’t you see, I had no other option” gasped her sometime spouse. “You know what Auros was like. Evil. Pure evil. When I refused to set up the racket with him, it was either him or me.”

“But why leave me behind?”

“Shh!” hissed Millie. “Can’t you see how weak he is?”

Her employer gave her a reproving look, but the maid was unrepentant. “You should save it for later, when… if… he’s well again.”

We had a lengthy wait for arrival of the emergency vehicles, made inevitable by the remoteness of the ranch’s location. Once we were sure that everything that could be done for Arthur had been done, my principal and I left the critically wounded man to the care of his lover, his wife and his daughter. Summoned by telephone, Connie had driven up from the riding centre to join us.

Guy and I retired to the porch and sat on the step side by side. As we began to compare our findings, the remaining pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

“So…” I began. “So, Jocasta and Midas were connected with the Persuaders.”

“More than connected. From what I’ve read in those papers you copied, that harridan and the brothers ran the outfit’s operation in these parts. With the evidence you uncovered, the Feds ought to be able to roll up this part of the organisation completely. It may still be like an octopus but now it will be short a couple of tentacles!”

“Does this mean I can go back to being… who I really am? Can I be with my family again?” My eyes misted over as thoughts of being reunited with Rachel and Georgie flooded over me.

“Possibly, but my recommendation would be to wait a month or two to see how the land lies. The Persuaders may not take our actions here lying down. In any case, even if it is safe, do you really want to? Jennifer’s life seems to be developing quite nicely as things are. Professionally, I mean… and…” with a nod in Gloria’s direction “socially too.”

At these words, the fears to which I had been prey, of green and white Plymouths and menacing strangers in white homburgs, were instantly overtaken by another image. I gulped as a recollection of my client in her deshabille that morning came vividly to my mind. The feelings I had been entertaining for her were complicated and had yet to be fully explored. Was I really ready for the kind of relationship which appeared to be on offer there?

We were sat close together, and I became suddenly self-conscious in our proximity. My little skirt barely covered my pantyhose clad legs at all. I unfolded my arms and dropped them to smooth what there was of its material over my thighs and my right hand came to rest against Guy’s left. He didn’t move it away and neither did I mine. At the awareness of that my heart seemed to be beating loudly in my chest as wild thoughts sprang into my brain. What if…? Yes, my feelings were undoubtedly complex!

Summoning up what was left of my self-control I put those thoughts aside. Was I really that sort of… girl? I roused myself with an effort. There were still a number of things bugging me regarding the case. It was irritating that one or two loose ends remained untied. Here was an opportunity to put them into some kind of order instead of indulging in fanciful imaginings.

“I think I understand the blackmail angle!” I faltered, trying to marshal my thoughts logically.

“Arthur’s a philanderer” I continued. He and his first wife had had Connie before he left her for another woman, possibly several, one after another. Then he split from whoever and had a thing with Millie, or that might have been the other way round. Together they set up this place. Gloria came long and he married her. He wound up the ranch and moved to the city, keeping the list of Gloriana’s clients as insurance against a rainy day, but it was coded to keep the names of the ranch’s customers secret.”

Guy added “He probably had the idea that if he got into difficulties he could lean upon a wealthy ex-client to help him out, but I don’t think he would have stooped to blackmail.”

I reflected some more. “That was where Auros and he differed.”

My boss nodded in agreement. “Auros got to know of the existence of the list. I guess Jocasta may have had her hooks into Raymond Price who had been sniffing around and somewhere along the way Auros and Jocasta had become an item. Anyhow that little snake got the crucial information. He saw a gold mine, but Arthur wouldn’t play ball”

“Naturally Auros wanted a piece of the action, but Arthur wasn’t about to hand over the key to the cipher. They fought over it and… exit one of the Klondyke brothers.” I fell silent.

“Arthur was now in big trouble” continued Guy. “The outfit that Midas and company were part of would be after him, so he faked his own death, with Millie’s help. Judging by the way she’s dressed up today, the relationship which those two had enjoyed picked up where it had left off. She’s been spending her days off up here devoting herself to looking after his… needs. He certainly has a way with women!”

“Yes! When I saw ‘Meg’ hanging up that exotic lingerie to dry, I didn’t twig. It wasn’t hers or rather his laundry. It was the maid’s unmentionables, and very sexy too!”

Eager to show off my understanding of what came next, I pushed on. “By that time, Jocasta had become er… interested in Midas, but she wasn’t going to let Auros’s disappearance pass and got Ray to investigate.”

“He must have cracked the code, in the same way I did” put in Guy. “The indentations in the paper you took from Midas’s office revealed notes on how to break the cipher. Ray must have gotten too close and speculated that Arthur was still alive. He was following Gloria to discover where her presumed-dead husband was hiding out. That’s why he died. Arthur killed him to preserve the secret.”

“Except it wasn’t Arthur. I remember it now. When I followed Ray to his office that day, the car directly behind him was an old grey station wagon. He ended up dead not long after.”

“Millie’s automobile!”

“She had Gloria’s gun. She had been feeding Ray information about Gloria’s schedule so she could fix where he would be, and then…” I drew my hand dramatically across my throat.

“Well done, Jennifer” beamed my boss and mentor. “Well done!

“Oh, but what about the cook? How did Flora die? That still needs an explanation.”

“The autopsy came back negative as to any foul play. Natural causes. Her health was really poor and she could have died any day.”

Guy put his arm around me and pulled me close. Why did that make me tingle all over? It was just a friendly hug. At least it would have been if the hand hadn’t remained around my waist.

“Whether or not Arthur does survive” I decided “I don’t plan to enlighten the police about Millie and Ray. She’ll have to take her chance.”

I was relieved that the ex-agent didn’t disagree. “One last question, then. Who was your attacker?”

“Oh, that’s easy, it was Connie. She took it upon herself to scare me off. The gun was just for show. I’m guessing that Arthur and Millie had nothing against me and didn’t want me getting in too deep as I could have got hurt. What a long time it’s taken me to understand.”

“You’ve done really well!”

My waist was in receipt of another ‘friendly’ squeeze. A siren interrupted our tete-a-tete heralding the proximity of the authorities.

As we got to our feet in anticipation of their arrival, his hand slid downwards. I found myself blushing scarlet!

Then the police car showed up.

Chapter 32 - Epilogue

It was late when my little car pulled up outside Gloria’s home. If I had been tired the evening before, it was nothing to how drained I was feeling now, after the tumultuous events of the day. We had accompanied the ambulance taking Arthur to the hospital where he now lay hovering between life and death. Millie had been adamant that she herself would keep a constant vigil at his side, but my client was too upset by her husband’s apparent, and possibly brief, resurrection to control her feelings. She was persuaded to come away with me. I did what I could to sooth her troubled spirit. I made milky drinks, gave her two sleeping pills and put her to bed.

My intention had then been to return to my apartment. Gloria’s troubled state of mind forbade my leaving her, however, and once I was assured that she slept, I made my way to the guest bedroom. The chamber was as we had left it that morning and across the bedstead lay the wondrous red nightgown which the lady of the house had then picked out and flaunted before my eyes. The little thing was even more brief and revealing than the one I had worn yestereve.

“You will be irresistible in this” she had exulted. “Just wait till tonight when I work my magic on that gorgeous body of yours. You can forget about sleep!”

That conversation now seemed a distant memory, and I regarded the garment doubtfully. With my would-be lover soundly slumbering it was obvious that the activity she’d had in mind was no longer on the agenda, even if I had desired it.

I sank into the bedside chair and fell into a reverie. I had some big decisions to make. What was troubling my mind was the shape of my future, both immediate and longer term. How long I remained there I have no clear idea but at least an hour passed before I surfaced and though I hadn’t formulated the answer to the weightiest issue facing me, my course of action was now obvious. Despite the demise of a significant part of the crime organisation which had been threatening us, there was no way that I could now rejoin Rachel and Georgie, thereby putting them at risk.

My family’s wellbeing was just too precious to me. It followed that if their safety was in doubt then so was my own. I had been contemplating the resumption of my male persona, but it was clear that was still not an option.

The answering of those conundrums quieted some of the turmoil in my brain though the hour was very late. I heaved a sad sigh and stirred my unwilling limbs to prepare myself for bed. It was then that the splash of red which lay across my intended couch hit me again between the eyes. The sight of the night attire, which that morning Gloria had joyously selected for my intended seduction, brought the final dilemma confronting me to the fore. How much a part of my life did I want that woman to play? There was definitely a strong physical attraction between us but if we were to be together I knew there needed to be more, much more.

As if hypnotised I lifted the little thing up and gazed at it. The action raised complex feelings; a cocktail of curiosity, apprehension and excitement. Randomly, imaginings over what the night might have held for me if I had not now been the only one awake flitted through my brain accompanied by a strong feeling of desire, alongside of which existed a reluctance to allow myself to be manipulated against my will. I couldn’t make a decision to save my life!

As if in a trance I found myself slowly stripping off my clothes. Next, I put on the little nightdress and as it slithered down over my eager body, the sensation made me shiver. I picked up the sheer panties which completed the set and stepped into them. The delicate softness of their material felt sublime against my skin.

My breasts were threatening to burst the inadequate covering which the bodice of the garment afforded so I gently eased them into a better position and straightened and smoothed the gossamer folds which descended from them. When I took a glance in the looking glass, the vision was sufficient to thrill me through and through. It left me near some kind of ecstasy!

My whole being ached for sensuality. I managed to reject the crazy idea which flashed through my mind of waking Gloria up in order to surrender to what might be her wildest demands. In an agony of irresolution, I cast myself down upon the bed and tried to sleep. Many waking hours passed me by before I finally succumbed to sleep.

It was late before I woke next morning. The advent of my hostess disturbed my slumbers and when she peeled the sheet from over my shoulders, I surfaced properly.

Seeing I was fully awake, she apologised, in reference to the night attire I had slept in. “I can see that you had prepared yourself to meet my desires last night, but it wasn’t to be, sadly.”

“It was my turn to be completely exhausted” she explained. “Our tryst was put on hold again and this time, all my fault. We are even, I guess, but I’m truly sorry, darling.”

Gloria continued “It was an emotional rather than a physical fatigue which overcame me. Also, my eyes have been opened so that I know I must continue to disappoint you. The sight of Arthur again yesterday and then to have him snatched away, possibly for ever, has been too much for whatever there might have been between you and I. I’m so sad to say this, Jennifer, but for now I need to be alone. Today I will go to him and remain by his side whatever the outcome. If…” she stifled a sob “… he is destined to pass, I will need time to come to terms with… with everything.”

A tidal wave of feeling swept over me. Though I hated to admit it to myself, relief was mingled with the disappointment I felt, though I tried hard not to let the former show in my voice as I responded. “Of course I understand. You will need to grieve all over again. Perhaps in a day or two…”

My companion interrupted me “Not days, darling. Perhaps not even weeks. It will be a long time before I would be able to get past the loss… and yet there is a chance he may live. For that I hope and pray. He has the strongest spirit, and if he can pull through, we may have the chance to build our life together all over again. Of course, we will live no longer in this land where danger still threatens him. Europe, I think, will be safe enough, so for that I will think and plan.”

“Of course.” Again, I tried to sound more disappointed than I felt. I became practical. “I ought to return to my own apartment, now that the case is closed and the danger there for me has passed. In any event, I will have a new investigation that I must start as soon as possible. It will mean my making an early departure, I’m afraid.” These statements may not have been a lie. I felt reasonably confident that Guy would have lined up some other mystery for me to take on, even if I knew nothing about it myself as yet!

I crossed the room and gave her the briefest of hugs. “You need to go to Arthur. I can dress and pack in minutes and then I’ll go too. I can let myself out. Goodbye, dear. You have my phone number if ever you need me.”

Gloria nodded assent, then with a determined air she turned and, stifling a sob, left me. It was the last time I ever saw her.

Ten minutes later I closed the front door softly and walked to my car. I had to blink back the tears as I drove. I really ought to get a grip on my emotions, I scolded myself. To dwell on what might have been was simply pointless. To get my mind straight, I forced myself to speculate upon what my next investigation would turn out to be. Something out of the ordinary I hoped.

Perhaps I ought to start keeping a journal, a book of memoirs I might publish one day. I would call this first episode… ‘The Case of the Living Dead’, or possibly… ‘The Golden Girls’, or… whatever!

A whole new life beckoned!