John and Diane Fallon stood close as they looked through the one-way glass partition and into the interview room. The room itself was sparsely but tastefully furnished and had been deliberately designed to give the usually reluctant occupant a false sense of security. The heavy drapes and comfortable sofa’s created a warm, relaxing mood. But the interrogation techniques employed by Fallon & Fallon Private Investigations were usually anything but warm and relaxing.
The current, single occupant of the room was Carl Scott - a bad man - and at that moment he was idly drawing on a Marlboro Lite. The thin, blue smoke rose from his yellowed fingers and hung in the motionless air.
“He’ll crack.” Diane said quietly as she and her husband watched through the glass. “He has to.”
“I hope you’re right.” John replied. He was as aware of the sense of doom in his voice as Diane was. “We’ve tried every trick in the book and he’s still not told us where the girl is. All we have is a deadline and that’s getting closer all the time.”
The deadline that Jack Fallon spoke of was the time left to pay a cool half million before the kidnapped girl – Katy Mason – would be executed. The Fallons had been retained by Katy’s distraught parents in the hope of apprehending the kidnappers or negotiating the payment for their daughter’s safe return. Any police involvement had been most strongly advised against.
They had thought they’d got lucky. Scott – the obvious leader of the gang – had been found, languishing drunk in a bar. He had been quickly and professionally apprehended and brought straight to the interview room where John and Diane had quickly gone to work on him. But the longhaired kidnapper had been tougher than they had expected. He had resisted any and all attempts to extricate a holding location from him and simply restated the ever-advancing deadline.
The deadline was now only three hours away.
“There is one thing left we can try.” Diane said quietly.
For a second John stared at his wife in confusion. Then her meaning suddenly became clear.
“Now wait a minute …”
“John, You know it’s the only way. I can handle it. And you’ll only be on the other side of this glass.”
“I don’t know….”
“Look. It worked before on the Richards case, didn’t it?”
“Yes, but…”
John’s words trailed off as his wife popped a button on her blouse and pushed her firm breasts up. The valley of her cleavage deepened and displayed the tanned slopes of her upper breasts. The decision had been made.
“Be careful!” John called after his wife as she sashayed along the corridor towards the door of the interview room.
“Aren’t I always?”
John watched Scott’s facial reaction change as Diane entered the room. It was understandable; Diane was a very attractive woman. Short brown hair framed a pretty face and the tailored pantsuit that she wore did little to hide a lithe, athletic figure. John turned a switch and the volume from within the interview room suddenly increased.
“They sending the pretty one in to try now, are they?” Scott said with a snide smile. “It won’t work, you know. Either you pay the cash or the Masons forget about ever seeing their little girl again.”
“Oh, I know you won’t talk.” Diane said. Her voice sounded deep and sexily resonant. John was only pleased that this was just an act. “But John’s gone back to the Masons’ house to organise the cash. I’m left here all alone and was feeling a little mellow after the day’s work. I didn’t think you’d object to sharing a drink with me?”
Scott looked confused for a moment before the snide grin came back over his face.
“Never say no to a drink with a sexy chick!”
Diane grinned as she poured out two glasses of scotch and handed one to the kidnapper. Her stomach turned a little as she noted his heavily bitten fingernails and nicotine-stained fingers.
“You have really big hands.” She remarked, quickly getting back into character.
Scott snorted and gulped a mouthful of the alcohol.
“Yeah! And you know what they say about big hands, baby!”
“Oh yes, what?”
“A guy with big hands has got a big dick as well!”
