Elementary

British English spelling and grammar.

I got a lot of emails from readers who liked Eliminate the Impossible. This is in a similar Sherlock vein. He actually said 'elementary' several times - but never added 'my dear Watson'.

I still have a hard core of whiners who say I don't finish my stories properly. For the last time - this is the English style. Please cut and paste the line below:

'And they all lived happily ever after.'

***

Elementary

"It's a pity we can't raise enough capital." Red sighed.

"Well as we're business partners," said Simon, "perhaps it's time I explained things."

"It's up to you; we are mates as well."

"It's like this. That monstrosity I live in belonged to my grandfather. My dad spent a fortune modernising it, and now it's all mine. So when Amanda and I got married, she signed a pre-nup."

"So she should."

"If I catch her playing away from home, she takes anything that's hers, which is not a lot, and leaves. The problem is -- she loves the old place. She called herself Mandy when I met her. But now thinks Amanda sounds more like the lady of the manor."

"I understand why; your place is almost a mansion." said Red. "But you're saying, under other circumstances, you'd be prepared to sell up?"

"Yes. But there's no point in upsetting her. And it is more convenient for her work."

How much would it go for? If she agreed to move, I mean?"

"We could buy a smaller more modern place nearer the city centre. And have enough money left over to put at least £100,000 into SHARP." said Simon.

"Wow! That's enough to make us equal partners."

Simon Holder -- an ex Rugby player who used to be called Shoulder -- part owned the business. Max Petersen -- usually called Red because of his hair -- was his partner. The company was named SHARP Logistics; from their initials. They'd originally set it up with £300,000; Simon had raised only £50,000 of that but Red always said they were in it together 50/50. For him to say they would be equal partners was very generous; considering how much the company was worth today.

Their main competitor, Perrin's Enterprises, had always been one jump ahead. But had now extended their borrowing too far, and were slowly screwing up a huge order. An order SHARP could have fulfilled. The grapevine said they'd be forced into bankruptcy within the next few months.

"If Perrins go under, we can buy their premises for a song." said Red. "£100,000 added to our existing capital surplus would get us the building and plant. Selling our site would allow us to absorb their best workers."

"Well there might be a little ray of sunshine on our business horizon; if you're prepared to help." said Simon.

"Consider it done."

"I haven't told you what I want yet."

"It doesn't matter. I'll do it anyway. What's do you have in mind?"

"I think Amanda is cheating on me. If I can prove it, my house will sell in no time and we'll be set."

They met again in the pub that evening to work out a plan.

"So what's making you suspicious?" asked Red.

"Nothing I can put my finger on really."

"OK. Is there a difference in her clothing, underwear?"

"No." Simon downed his beer.

"Has she started working late; going away on business?"

"No. Everything in our domestic lives is the same as it was six months ago."

"How about showering; especially when she's just been out? Or has she mentioned any particular fantasies?"

"No, there's nothing odd really" said Simon. "She once said she'd like to have sex with a black man; but most white wives fantasise about that. She just sometimes has this glow about her. I'm sure she's getting extra sex elsewhere. It's not much help is it?"

"It could be; think back. How often does she display this glow? Is it once a week for example? Can you remember specific days?"

Simon went to the bar and got two more pints. When he returned, he sipped his and stared into the fire. Red said nothing but thought he could hear the cogs turning.

"It's not every week. It's more like a couple of times a month. And I think it's usually mid week; say Tuesday to Thursday."

"Have there been any changes in her work times?"

"No."

"OK. What does she do Tuesday to Thursday?"

"Tuesday, there's always a meeting at her place and she gets home an hour late and I cook dinner. So I suppose we should start by checking what she gets up to there. Wednesday is her night out with Imogen. She lives half an hour away and they take it in turns to travel. Thursday, nothing special happens. Though, we often hire a video."

"Great! I'll sniff around Jordan and Co, and find out about these meetings of hers. But I think we'll soon eliminate them and will need to major on Wednesday nights."

"Why?"

"It fits the twice a month scenario."

"Ah. What should I do in the meantime?"

"Get your radar working and give me an exact timing of the mysterious glow. Now, forget about it for tonight, and I'll thrash you at pool."

They met again a week later. On a Saturday lunchtime, while their wives were having a post-shopping glass of wine.

"I know a couple of people who work at Amanda's place," began Red, "and checked out her Tuesday night meeting - it seems legit. I also took a couple of photos at The Vinyard, as her mate arrived. Is this the one -- getting out of the taxi?"

"Yes, that's Imogen. Did anyone join them?"

"No. I didn't stay the whole two and half hours they were chatting. But I popped back a few times and was there when Imogen left; nothing suspicious, and they didn't see me. Have you honed down the times you're suspicious?"

"Kind of, there was nothing at all last week."

"So, the way you describe her wine bar visits, she'll travel to Imogen's next Wednesday?"

"Yes. She books a black cab. It takes forty minutes to Hampstead. That's why they take it in turns. Oh, and I remembered something else. She leaves for work a bit later on Wednesdays; they pay her back for working late the night before. It's about half an hour, and she has a bit of a rush to get ready for her night out."

"OK." said Red. "I'll follow her next week, and you check her comings and goings at her meeting. And Wednesday morning leave late yourself. Keep an eye open for anything strange. Then just act normal. We'll meet again next week."

The following Saturday they pooled their information. Simon had said he would also be working late on Tuesday and would pick up pizzas. He telephoned Amanda's office after five and was told she was in her regular meeting. He was watching as she left work and she didn't interact with anyone. Neither did she stop off on her way home. The following morning there had been nothing unusual and she'd gone in to work about thirty minutes late, as expected.

Red followed Amanda and again provided photos. As she got into her taxi, and as she got out in Hampstead.

"There was nothing out of the ordinary all the way. She never stopped anywhere till she got out at 'A votre santé'. She went in, did the usual air kisses with Imogen and there she stayed. Once they'd settled in with their drinks, I went and had dinner nearby and got back an hour before she headed home. Here are a couple more photos of her non-stop return journey."

Simon took them, and paused before he spoke.

"It's Wednesdays Red." he stated. "I get the vibes Thursday; strongest on the morning, but still there when she gets home. That woman is getting fucked every fortnight."

"Well that's some kind of progress mate. Perhaps she's got her fantasy black guy stashed away in your basement. She comes home and has him every second week; either lunch time or at night while you're sleeping!"

Simon laughed. But the next Wednesday night, while Red kept a discreet eye on The Vinyard, he checked the basement anyway. He found nothing at all, and cursed himself out loud for being so stupid. And he cursed again when he locked the basement door. Still feeling ridiculous, he checked the entire house for clues and came up empty handed. He slumped on the sofa in the lounge. Then poured himself a Courvoisier and studied the photographs again.

"Can I borrow your car on Wednesday?" asked Simon. "I'm taking the day off and will follow her to Hampstead."

"Of course mate; got an idea?"

"Maybe; I'll see you Thursday night."

"I've nailed her!" said Simon.

"Great! What happened?"

"The main clue was here in your photos all along."

"Show me."

He passed them to Red.

"I went over to Hampstead and did some sniffing around."

"What, checking up on Imogen?"

"Yes. It's surprising what you can find out if you ask."

"Go on." said Red.

"She lives in a huge place -- bigger than mine. And next door is a little cottage. Guess who lives there?"

"I know -- a big black man!"

"No, it's a Fred Browning her gardener, he's a widower in his fifties. Funny you should say that though; Imogen has a black lover. He visits once or twice a week, and stops over most weekends. It's no secret apparently. Anyway, before I came back, I bought one of those spy pen things."

"You've got a movie of Amanda fucking the gardener?" "Sadly no; it only records sound. I put it in her handbag."

"That's a pity."

"I checked with our solicitor and while audio evidence is inadmissable in a criminal case; it's acceptable in a divorce court. Listen; I skipped the first part as it's only sucking and fucking noises."

"Jesus! You're as awesome as ever Angelo! Simon never gives me orgasms like this. I came three times!"

"When are you going to let me cum inside you?"

"We've been through this before; you finish in my mouth or wear a condom."

"OK."

"When I see you for part two, you'd better not cum inside me; not even 'by accident'. We do this my way, or it's over."

"What was part two?" Red asked.

"It was more of the same; slurping oral foreplay, then sex. He was only allowed to cum in her mouth after she was satisfied. It sounded like Amanda only came twice in the second session -- poor thing!"

"Angelo sounds black -- Imogen's bit on the side?"

"Definitely; it seems she doesn't mind sharing him. This was probably all her idea in the first place."

"But when and where do they do it? I followed her to Hampstead, and checked they were settled in the wine bar."

"And what did you do then?"

"I told you; I got some dinner. Don't tell me she fucked the guy while I was eating!"

"No, she didn't. Don't worry; you did exactly what I would have done -- well, before I studied the photos anyway. Last night I left her to meet Imogen, but stayed in the car. Then I followed the black cab."

"What?"

"Check these photos again. Can you see it yet?"

"It's the number plate! What are you going to do?"

"I'd like your assistance one last time. Can you and your car be available in a fortnight? You know which day."

The routine changed that second Wednesday, though Amanda didn't notice. She laid out the evening's dress and underwear on the bed as usual -- then got in the shower. Simon slipped into the bedroom and quickly loaded all her hanging clothes into large bin bags. She was very unlikely to return to the wardrobes, but he superglued the doors shut just in case. He could always slice them free later. The bags of clothes were stashed in the boot of Red's car. Red drove round the corner and waited. The moment Amanda left; Simon rushed round the bedroom and bathroom and packed everything else of hers.

The taxi pulled up and Amanda got in. Red followed it to Hampstead. When she went into the wine bar, he followed it again as instructed. It parked outside a small house, and the driver went inside. Red parked nearby and waited. Twenty minutes later, Simon arrived and asked: "Have they left?" Red nodded and they knocked on the door.

"There's been a change of plan Mr Browning. Do as we say, and you won't get hurt."

The black cab door opened.

"Hi Fred, all set?"

"There's been a change of plan, Angelo. There won't be a return journey."

"What are all these bags?"

"I'd rather not discuss it."

Fred drove alone to 'A votre santé'.

"What are all these bags Fred?"

"I couldn't say, Miss Amanda."

He handed her an envelope.

"I believe the explanation may be in here."

"She'll have opened the envelope by now. Divorce papers, and copies of the pre-nup and recording; I wonder what she'll make of it?"

"So she was screwing him in the taxi all the time?"

"Yes. Fred Browning was doing that trip every week. On the nights it was Amanda's turn to travel; Angelo was waiting in the cab and fucked her all the way to Hampstead. Part two was the return trip. He must have reckoned nearly three hours in a taxi was worth it for a crack at my wife's cunt and mouth. He can have them any time he wants now!"