I was invited to meet up with a new client at his place of business. Fairly urgent I was told. Not having anything else urgent on I rang the man, arranged the appointment, and saw him later that morning.
Mr Charles Wainwright had an electrical manufacturing business. He made widgets and gadgets and such junk, mainly for the big companies, but he also had a couple of small contracts with the government. Knowing the government, those two small contracts were probably pure cream to him.
His problem was that he was now going after a much larger government contract which would keep him in cream for the next five years. He was tipped to have the contract in the bag, but someone else wanted it badly enough to take some nasty steps.
Charles had received a tip that his wife was going to be snatched and held until the contract had been awarded. If Charles dropped his bid then there would be a happy ending, otherwise, not so happy an ending.
Now Charles didn't believe for one moment that the threat was anything but a threat. His wife wasn't really going to be kidnapped and held. But still, why take chances?
That's where I come in. My firm provides bodyguards. Normally full time, but occasionally for threats of this nature. Would I be able to have someone with his wife full time until the contracts were awarded. It would be about two weeks.
This wasn't going to be a problem I assured him. I agreed that the threat probably wasn't serious but I'd arrange for a trio of my best girls to keep an eye on the woman. (They deserved an easy assignment occasionally.) One woman would be with her at all times, even to the extent of having one of my girls sleep over at her house until the threat was passed.
Contracts were signed and I despatched my girls to go over to see Charles and he'd take them home and introduce them to his wife. Everything went fine for about fifteen hours, and then I received a call from Marie, the keeper currently on duty.
"We've got a problem," she told me. "The little bitch deliberately tried to give me the slip this morning. She snuck out the side door without telling me and made a break for it. If I hadn't put a tracker on her car I'd have lost her."
"Now why would a nice lady like Mrs Wainright try to give you the slip?" I asked.
"Have you seen Mrs Wainright?" came the reply. "What do you think she's like?"
"Ah, no, I haven't met her. All my dealings were with her husband. I assumed that she'd be about the same age as her husband and quite content to go along with his plans."
"Well, Brandi Wainright is about twenty, a right royal bitch and a pain in the neck. She doesn't want a body guard. End of story."
"OK. Keep an inconspicuous eye on her and I'll have a chat with Charles."
So I returned to Charles and explained the problem. It turned out that Brandi was Charles second wife, the first having expired. Charles was also in no mood to have his contract queered because Brandi didn't want a bodyguard.
"I don't care what you do, but get the message through to her that she's stuck with company for two weeks. I have to go out of town today and I can't be there so your people have to be."
If that's the way the man wanted it, that's the way the man would get it. I called Marie, asking for the current location of our reluctant ward. At the tennis club playing with three other young women. I explained what I was going to do.
I went and got one of our more inconspicuous vans.
FedEx vans are everywhere. Brandi didn't even notice the one parked next to her car. She was just casually strolling past it when I stepped out of the van, grabbed her and tossed her in. No one noticed. Before she had a chance to scream I had my hand over her mouth.
"Listen to me, you little idiot," I snarled in her ear. "If this was a genuine kidnapping you'd be gagged and bound and off to some little hideaway right now. Body-guarding you is not a joke and ditching your bodyguard can be downright dangerous. For you.
You may not like it but for the next two weeks you're stuck with it. Got it?"
Brandi gave me this furious look but she wasn't going to argue. When I wanted to I could look big and mean, and right then I wanted to.
"I don't want to have this sort of conversation with you again, and you most certainly won't want me to have to speak with you again. Any more doing a runner and I'll tan your bloody hide.
Now get in your car and drive back home. Apologise to your bodyguard when you see her. And remember, if I could find you, so could someone else."
Brandi didn't say a word. She just gave me another furious look, got out of the van, into her car and took off. The way she drove I thought she might not live the two weeks of the contract.
I had to admit that Brandi was quite a dish. Platinum blonde, nice breasts that weren't over large and a bottom that was made for grabbing. I could see why Charles fell for her. It would have been lust at first sight.
For the rest of the week everything went fine. Brandi, reluctantly, let the bodyguards go with her. It helped that they were about her age and reasonably good-looking. They didn't look like obvious guards.
Then on Saturday morning Marie rang me again. Brandi had done a runner again. Marie was trailing her, so she was still covered, but it was the principle of the thing. I told Marie to keep an eye on her and let me know when Brandi was heading homeward.
It was getting towards the end of Marie's shift when she called to let me know that Brandi appeared to be heading homeward.
"OK," I told her. I'm already at the house waiting. When you've seen her safely inside you can knock off. Amy's shift starts in about an hour and I'll baby sit until then. After I've read her the riot act."
A little while later the front door opened and Brandi came bouncing in. She slammed the door behind her by kicking it with her foot. Her hands were filled with bags of shopping. Marie must have had a hell of a job trailing her. I'd really have to give that girl a raise.
Brandi was almost skipping along the hallway, smiling and full of joie de vivre. She'd evaded her bodyguard, she'd been shopping and she was safely home. It was almost a pity to spoil her innocent freedom.
Almost.
"Hullo, Brandi," I said in a nasty tone, and she screamed, tossed her bags aside and turned to run.
Then she must have recognised me, because she gave a shuddering gasp and glared at me.
"How could you," she snapped. "You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you were a kidnapper."
"So what's the problem if I was?" I asked. "Your bodyguard would have handled them. Ah, where's your bodyguard?"