A Piers Fellowes Crime Story
By Lairdscastle
Chapter 1
He stood naked and self-conscious by the side of the bed and stared down at the display of toys arranged neatly on the quilted bedspread. Nearby on a chair, also neatly folded... perhaps he would admit obsessively so, lay his business suit, expensive shirt, underwear, blue silk socks and a matching silk tie. There had been little time after he took the call from his Mistress to do more than escape from the office, take a taxi to his London flat, and grab the first travelling bag from the toybox that came to hand and then dash to the Country Hotel he had been summoned to. He was now trying to arrange what he had brought into some sort of order. With a shiver he hoped he would be punished for his lack of foresight.
He picked up one of a pair of silver rings, delicately attached to corded and therefore strong silver-plated chains and which ended with an exquisitely tooled and tiny clamp with a screw thread. After testing that the clamp closed smoothly, he laid it back down and similarly examined its pairing. A smooth paddle, about a foot long caught his attention. He picked it up and slowly rubbed his hand along the wood, so smooth and oiled he could hardly feel the grain and thankful that it was in good condition despite the fact he couldn't remember when it had last been used.
He regretted that in his rush to be here, he had not picked up the new set of black leather butt-plugs he had recently bought on instruction from his Mistress (though on his recommendation) as the ones he had found in the bag of toys were not the best quality. They were clean and serviceable but he noticed that some of the stitching on the larger of them (and so more used) was beginning to fray. That would be spotted. Finally, he removed from the old Doctor's medical case that served as his travelling toy bag, a short-handled flogger... he only one he was able to bring in the rush. It was, however, an old favourite and specially made by one of the best whip makers in England. The shiver came back as he held it and admired the workmanship. Three naturally coloured red, white and black strips of leather had been bound into a braided handle with a retaining ring of polished green opal and an exhibition quality red and gold flecked opal pommel stone at the end, set into brass. Not gold or silver as the quality and high price of the tool might have suggested. This was a workmanlike device, not meant for display. The expensive quality was to be enjoyed only in the most private and intimate circumstances.
There was a rustle of stockings as legs were unfolded and folded again.
"No boy! We won't be using those today. I have brought my own... special surprises for you. Replace them in the bag. There is nothing of interest to me in there today."
He didn't look up. He had been forbidden to look her in the eye.
"Yes Mistress."
"And when you have finished, neatly mind you, kneel and crawl to me. I want you to honour me. You are allowed to remove my shoes."
A rebellious twitch at the side of his mouth was the only sign that he was irritated. The urgent summoning that day at short notice was rude in itself and not usually in character with this particular Mistress. His day had been filled with meetings and urgent decisions. His PA had to perform miracles of diplomacy to clear his diary. Neither did he care for floggers or butt plugs that he had not personally cleaned and oiled. It was all more disorganised than he preferred.
"Of course Mistress, it will be my pleasure."
"Don't bring me an attitude today boy; it's not your pleasure that's important."
"Yes Mistress."
Chapter 2
Detective Inspector Ross Grave watched Detective Superintendent Pal Khan from his vantage point at the window as the latter climbed the metal steps into the mobile operations trailer. The temporary office had been placed discreetly in the staff car park behind the main hotel building. It had been put there out of direct view from the main driveway entrance at the request of the horrified manager when he realised the police were going to be on-site for some days, if not weeks. Ross had not felt it necessary to be so sensitive to the hotel's misplaced sense of propriety. After all, it was not as if the private chalet room in the grounds of this country club was going to be in a condition to be re-used for some time. Not known for his jokes, he nevertheless thought it was grimly amusing that the manager was so distraught given that this particular murder scene would probably attract "murder mystery" weekenders and boost business well after the police had gone. This case had a national profile.
DS Khan took off his hat and immediately sat down on one of the plastic chairs in front of the operations board to signal that he didn't want fuss. There were only two officers in the room at this time of the morning. Detective Sergeant Paula Morris stood and formally acknowledged the arrival of her boss. Ross simply waved from his chair as he stared pointedly engrossed in the operation's record sheets on his screens.
Turning, Ross thought that the boss was looking fatter and more tired than when he had last seen him. Ross on the other hand felt fitter and fresher than he had any right to be at this time of the morning. In fact, it was noticeable that he was taking better care of himself in the last few months. A residue from his recent marriage to his second wife, perhaps.
Khan placed his hat on the shelf next to one of the empty desks.
"So what do we have Ross? Forget a formal briefing; we can do that later in the pre-press meeting."
Ross glanced back at his screens, then turned to face his boss.
"Well so far this week we have told the press that we have a probable murder on our hands, likely to be sex related. They have picked up from some of the hotel staff, who couldn't wait to tell them, that it's probably a sado-masochistic crime involving a girl and a surprising amount of blood. They know from the irritatingly indiscreet staff that she is a cousin of the model Carrie Hart-Graham and so the press were usefully diverted into pursuing that link rather than anything important to us. That's sort of keeping them off our backs."
Khan made no sign he was listening, but Ross was used to getting very little feedback from him and after a suitable pause, he carried on.
"As for us, well the victim signed in at the front desk as Alicia Greenberg on Monday and provided a company credit card in the name of Strended Carr Ltd. Turns out that it is a near dormant advertising agency that seems to be her own firm. Her real name is Alice Hart-Graham, cousin to Carrie on her father's side. The latter is deceased along with her mother who sadly died years ago when she was a baby. Her uncle is of course Julian Hart-Graham, the city property guy. As far as I can tell, Alice's branch of the family are little known and not nearly as rich. Paula is looking into that history."
Khan roused by the name smiled up at Paula who ignored him and who nodded to Ross instead. Covering his irritation by a clearing of the throat, Khan spoke.
"Let's leave that connection for now, what about the crime scene? I've seen the reports and photographs, so just your opinion would be fine."
Ross ran his hand through thick greying brown hair and sat back.
"The techies say that they're finished with the room. When you first see it, you'll find it looks obvious what might have happened. The bed appears at first glance to be where she was killed as it is disturbed and covered in blood. Well, to be honest, we guess it was everywhere else, but there is a lot soaked into the sheets and into the atteress. That's what the cleaning staff has told the press anyway before we got to them and told them to keep quiet. There are ropes, some tied to parts of the bed and also various pieces of equipment scattered about. I have an itemised list but they are obviously standard bondage stuff; clamps, whips that sort of thing. All being DNA tested of course. We will have the results within the week we think."
Ross turned back to the desk and extracted a sheet of paper, then continued, glancing at the notes as he spoke.
"But as you know, it's not as straightforward as that. Alice was sitting in a gold velvet upholstered chair away from the bed. The chair was urine stained, still damp which will help forensics. She was naked from the waist down and was wearing a very thin black silk blouse above. There is no other female clothing in the room. Instead, on another chair there was a pile of neatly folded clothing. A male business suit and other stuff. All looked new."
Khan wrinkled his eyes in an involuntary twitch of disgust: despite his years in the force. He had too much imagination to cope well with crime scenes. Ross continued.
