The Gentlemans Accomplice Ch 06

Where Sir Douglas begins to search for the killer of Susan and makes some progress.

Sir Douglas strode down the corridor in a very thoughtful mood. He had been very impressed with Onna's handling of Chelsea's "introduction" to their very exclusive "Society". Chelsea had not seen him, but he had been in the rear of the crowd, observing the goings on.

He had been very impressed with the way that Onna had managed the crowd interaction with Chelsea. There were always one or two odious types from both genders who always tried to take liberties with those on display. There was one gentleman who was called "stink finger" behind his back as he always without fail desperately tried to insert his forefinger into the back passage of those who were taking their very first steps on the road to becoming part of their special society group. Sir Douglas smiled grimly to himself when he remembered the way stink finger had screamed when Onna had broken all of the fingers on his right hand one by one.

When he reached the end of the corridor, Sir Douglas paused and opened a door that was quite small and hidden in the wood panelling. He smiled to himself as he opened it and went into the passageway beyond. All of these older mansions were built in a similar way, in that it would not be desired to have the lowlier cleaners and servants traversing those corridors and rooms where the aristocracy would be. Why, the very idea of coming face to face with some hardworking servant woman carrying a chamber pot! So these buildings tended to have a hidden network of passages which were usually purely for the servants. Sometimes though, they might be used by the Master of the house if he wished to visit someone's bedroom without anyone else being able to spy on his nocturnal activities.

Human nature being what it is, Sir Douglas noted with a certain amount of good humour, as he walked along the narrow hidden corridors their were thin shafts of light that were coming through holes in the wall. These little shafts of light piercing the gloom of the servants passages were windows into the private perversions of those who attended this gala ball of the depraved. Sir Douglas did not pause at these, but each one that he passed he could hear snatched moments of people's pleasure.

At one, a husky woman's voice said "You have been very a very bad student Jeremy, so you know what happens as your punishment, get onto your knees..."

At another a man's voice shouted "For the love of God don't stop".

At the third peep hole all Sir Douglas could hear was the rhythmic slapping of flesh against flesh. Whose flesh it was he couldn't say, but from the liquid noise of cock entering a dripping pussy, it was clearly something that was almost hypnotic to listen to. So after gathering himself together, he continued along the corridor.

The fourth peephole along the east wing corridor had a voice that Sir Douglas recognised. He stopped and looked into the peephole to see if he was correct in recognising the voice. The image that he saw was of an older man with a significant paunch strapped to a St. Andrews Cross. It was the first time that Sir Douglas had ever seen him unclothed but he recognised the man as a politician from Parliament. He was a conservative politician who was particularly into the Church and very moralistic, which made the sight of a younger man on his knees sucking on the man's cock even more amusing. The fact that the young man was the son of one of his chief political opponents in the houses of parliament made the whole scene even more deliriously funny. For a moment Sir Douglas thought of getting Onna to come and enjoy the show as he knew that she enjoyed watching men at sport with each other, but Sir Douglas reminded himself that he had work to do.

After coming to a set of circular stairs leading down towards the kitchens, Sir Douglas descended down towards to Servants quarters. He knew where he was going as he had been there before but the woman he was going to see he had not seen in a long time. Pausing for a moment, Sir Douglas adjusted his costume so that everything sat naturally on his broad frame and so that the smaller sword, the "wakizashi" that he had taken from Onna was unobtrusive beneath his cloak. He did not want to startle this woman unnecessarily, but with the death of Susan, his previously collared slave, he was not going to be going unarmed until this matter had been resolved.

The woman he was going to see was named Martine, or Marti to her friends. Sir Douglas had met her in a very disconcerting situation in Paris. He had been making his way through the private house of a very notorious underworld figure who Sir Douglas suspected may have stolen plans of the new Battleship design being built in the shipyards in England. Several people had died in the stealing of these plans, some innocent and some not, but enough concern had been held by Senior Government figures that Sir Douglas had been requested to follow up the matter.

He had come upon the two of them in the study of this monster of the French underworld to find the fiend slowly strangling the most stunning woman that Sir Douglas had seen. She had given a very good account of herself, as the underworld thug was bleeding copiously from his nose and one of his eyes were swollen shut, but this woman was clearly about to lose her life.

Sir Douglas felt that as a gentleman he had no option but to do the right thing in this situation. So he walked up very quietly, using the sides of his feet as he had been taught in China and quickly slipped a razor sharp stiletto between the fourth and fifth vertebrae in this evil man's neck. The man crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut over the woman, who clawed the now paralysed man's hands around her neck and started to suck oxygen back into her ravaged yet still extremely alluring frame.

Sir Douglas dragged the paralysed thug over to his chair and propped up the man whose bulging eyes betrayed his horror over what was happening to him. Sir Douglas knew from experience that for the next five minutes the now paralysed man would be unable to say anything, but from the fifth minute through to the twenty fifth or if he was particularly strong willed, even through to the thirtieth minute he would be able to speak and converse like a normal man. However unless he was placed into an iron lung at a hospital, something that Sir Douglas had absolutely no intention of facilitating, he would start to expire from asphyxiation as his body overcame its shock and started to die as a result of the neat and precise incision that Sir Douglas had made in his spinal cord.

The woman behind him stood up off the desk, shuddering with horror at how close she had come to deaths door, the woman who was adjusting her clothing so that her breasts and flesh were more appropriately covered by her torn and ripped clothing and said "Thank you for saving my life Msieu, my name is Marti"

The details of the interrogation that followed and the thugs timely departure of this worldly plane were particularly mundane, so they did not flow through Sir Douglas's thoughts, but Marti! Now she had been an incredible experience. She had worked with the "Surete" the French quasi secret police and had been in the process of infiltrating the thugs lair for much the same reason that Sir Douglas had, but had been discovered and was in the process of being killed when Sir Douglas had rescued her. They had met several times afterwards and had become firm friends, with each being in a position to provide a favour or two for the other in their professional capacities. They had also discovered between them a broad similarity in tastes when it had come to sexual concerns.

Both Marti and Sir Douglas had been friends and lovers of the inestimable Susan and Sir Douglas intended to enlist her in his search for her killer.

Marti had let Sir Douglas know by letter that she would be attending this party, but as she was not officially in England, here as a spy as it were, it was necessary for them to meet in secret so as to not arouse suspicion.

Sir Douglas walked across into one of the many pantries on the Servants level next to the kitchens and there she was.

Marti looked very seductive. She had taken some care in attending the ball in a costume that would attract comment and admiration wherever she went. It also served a more duplicitous purpose thought Sir Douglas, as whichever man saw it would be more likely to concentrate on her very exposed breasts than on her face. Marti had dressed as the Egyptian queen of legend and lover of Antony, the queen Cleopatra. She wore diaphanous pants made from a cotton so fine that you could see right through it to her sex, which she had shaved and waxed for the occasion. Her belly had a navel piercing where a large ruby dangled from the circular pin piercing her flesh there. Her breasts were held upright in a tight cross work of laced together golden fabric, which lifted and separated her incredible breasts, yet left her rouged nipples exposed. Her make up had been done in the Egyptian style and her normally blonde hair was disguised by a dark haired wig, completing the transformation from a stunning blonde to a dark haired temptress from the pages of history.

Sir Douglas had seen her make her entrance and new that the stunning appearance here amongst the most secret of revellers would quite quickly trickle down into broader fashion of London's elite, until the ancient Egyptian theme would be the absolute must have in current fashion. The thought gave Sir Douglas a lot amusement.

The effect of Marti's costume in terms of how it enhanced Marti's already considerable charms was not lost on Sir Douglas. Especially when she came forward and cupped his half erection through his costume while she kissed him, open mouthed. There was something in her lipstick thought Sir Douglas, something mildly narcotic that befuddled the senses as he felt himself get hard in her encapsulating hand which was slowly stoking his thickening shaft.

"It is always nice to see you again Douglas" Marti said, her French accent turning his otherwise ordinary name into a caress that was echoed as she ran her fingers softly along the length of his cock. There was a very real temptation there for Douglas to just let go and let this incredible vision of womanhood ravish him as he knew she had wanted him for a long time.

"Marti" he said, kissing her deeply with his broad hands sliding around the sumptuous curve of her ass, eliciting a gasp from her as she felt his broad strength reaching around and encompassing her. "You know that I have another in training and that as much as I would like to relive our time in Paris, it has to wait until these other pressing concerns are dealt with".

Marti let out a little moan of disappointment, "Of course darling, but I was at least hoping for a few smaller bruises to be able to show off later tomorrow, but we all have our priorities do we not? Besides, I cannot wait to meet your new woman, I am most intrigued to meet someone who can catch your attention so!".

They moved to another part of the kitchen, further away from the hallway where they could speak with relative privacy. As Sir Douglas watched her sensual form walk in front of him, he thought of Onna's likely reaction to such a one as Marti without the appropriate preparation and smiled. Marti didn't know it, but she would have been lucky to keep her head.

The sat down in a small corner of the kitchen that was obviously utilised by the household servants for their meals and began to talk.

"Susan was very special to me as you know" Marti said. "I was horrified when I learned of her death and I will be in for the kill, there is to be no argument in regards to that". Sir Douglas nodded in agreement as it had been a strong element of his training in the woman that passed through his hands. The bond between Master and Slave, between a woman and the one who had the strength to master who, who had passed through the intensity of experience that was Sir Douglas's living focus created such bonds One of the final binding rituals between them was the promise of revenge in the case of an untimely death. This cemented the experience that made Sir Douglas and his students a unique entity, a pack of like minded people who cared for each other to the point of death and beyond.

"I promise you his last breath" Sir Douglas said, kissing Marti gently on the hand in a tone of voice that promised that this indeed would come to pass. "What have you learned from your friends" he said.

Marti lowered her voice "you know I have contacts throughout the less salubrious parts of London, mainly amongst the smugglers and those who object to paying the King's tithe on luxuries like brandy and silk. I received word that one who you would know had occasion to hire a riverboat recently for a journey along the Thames. The person had hired this ferryman several times before, but this time the ferryman went missing along with his boat. Fortunately he had kept his son informed of everything that went on and who he was working for and his son ended up being directed to me"

Sir Douglas grimaced at this and said "It sounds promising but at this point it could be anything, it's hardly rare for a member of the criminal classes to find themselves in the Thames with a blade between their shoulder blades".

"But wait until you hear who the person who paid for this nocturnal service along the river" said Marti, her eyes glowing with an uncommon fervour. "It was Erik Weldon"

Marti shrank back in her chair, the change that came over Sir Douglas was momentary but for an instant Marti saw deep into the heart of Sir Douglas. She had known of his military service and even seen him kill, but what she had seen was quite dispassionate, with the same care and emotion that a gardener might have removing an obnoxious weed. This was the secret heart of a man who kept as tight a rein on himself as he did on any of his slavish women. For that moment, Marti saw the red and bloody ruin that strode through the depths of Sir Douglas heart and was afraid.

Sir Douglas leaned forward and said "You will have his last breath I promise you but only when I have finished with him".

Marti sat there watching him warily as Sir Douglas took in a deep ragged breath and gained his composure. "It is all right" he said "I had not thought of him for some time but he has more than enough reason to hate me".

"What predisposed him to hating you?" asked Marti.

"It is ironic in some ways that you bring this news to me," said Sir Douglas "as Erik was behind our initial meeting. You see, Erik was employed by the company that was providing engineering expertise to the Royal Navy and was one of our suspected conduits of information on the new Dreadnought design to Europe. We were never able to prove it, but my interception of these plans which lead to the demise of that cretin who was trying to wring your lovely neck was linked to him"

"If we had proof Erik would have met with a terrible accident that would have tied up any loose ends, but as he had some significant connections with the upper strata of society who would have been able to press for an investigation. A decision was made to give him the benefit of the doubt as it were, but any Government work quickly dried up due to the heavy handed hints we made in some quarters.". Sir Douglas then sat back in his chair, resting his bulk against the chair. "The man had the temerity to confront me about it last year at the Ascot races and I did not deny it, but made it clear to him that he was lucky to still be walking above ground and that if I had any proof of what I thought he had done, he would rapidly find himself beneath it, regardless of his social connections".

"What makes you think that he would be the one who killed Susan?" asked Marti.

"Our retrieval of the plans for the dreadnought and the subsequent chain of murder and mayhem that followed the trail back here to England and those who tried to profit by betraying their country discomfited a lot of people. At the end though, we were unable to find those at the head of this conspiracy and if it was not necessarily Erik who finally took her life, I'm sure that he would have been there at the Susan's death.

Marti knew that Sir Douglas had other avenues of investigation which would provide further detail for him, but having seen the savagely leashed beast which lived in the heart and soul of Sir Douglas, she new that although he did not know it, that Erik's days were numbered and would rapidly begin to count down towards his inevitable demise.

"I will send you a note inviting you over for tea and I will introduce you to my newest challenge. Her name is Onna and is proving to be quite the challenge". said Sir Douglas, leaning forward to kiss Marti on the lips.

"As much of a challenge as I was?" asked Marti.

"Absolutely" said Sir Douglas, "I look forward to seeing what happens when I put the both of you in the same room together".

They gave each other a final lingering kiss and caress and then went their separate ways. If his knowledge of Marti was anything to go by mused Sir Douglas, some unsuspecting fellow was about to have the shagging of his life as Marti was one hell of a woman and he could steel feel the heat of her womanhood in the palm of his hand where he had caressed her pussy through her cotton trousers.

The narcotic in Marti's lipstick clung to Sir Douglas like a fog of lust as he made his way back through the servants corridors within the mansion, back to the room where Onna would be guarding the sleeping Chelsea.

When he entered the room, Onna was standing over the body of a man who was dressed in black and who had been carrying a long dagger and bludgeon. Judging by the corpse and the small amount of blood that was leaking from the man's ear, he had not been expecting any resistance when he entered the room. Onna had clearly killed him before he had the chance to do anything but open his eyes in amazement. By the size of the man's frame and the coarseness of his features, slackened by Death as they were, it was clear that he was a standard bully boy that you would find along the docks in almost any city in Europe.

Sir Douglas knew that Onna would have taken this man's life like a stooping eagle, but it was part of his gentlemanly upbringing that forced him to ask if she was all right. Onna raised an eyebrow at this inanity, but acknowledged that she had not been hurt and that Chelsea was still fast asleep.

Realising that time was of the essence, Sir Douglas wrapped the corpse in the Turkish carpet which was on the floor in the room and using his considerable strength, gathered this and the corpse up onto his shoulder and walked the body outside into the garden. He then carried the body around to the stables where his carriage had been parked along with the others.

All of the stablemen and servants were at the other end of the property near the gardeners cottage, as there were arrangements in place to ensure that there were no prying eyes that were not already thoroughly trusted.

Sir Douglas placed the carpet shrouded corpse in the luggage section at the rear of the carriage. It should rest there undisturbed to be removed and left to drift out to sea in the Thames, the reliable disposer of many of those who met their deaths in a nefarious way.

Walking back to the mansion, he walked briskly back through the corridors returning to their bedroom. Onna was standing to one side when he entered the room, her long sword, the "katana" which Sir Douglas knew was razor sharp. Onna lowered it as she recognised him, pulling the strike before it would have left Sir Douglas a good head shorter than he had been when he walked into the room.