He paid the taxi driver and showed Mina into the flat, watching her backside sway seductively from side to side as she preceded him into the building. With a quick look down the street, he closed the door behind them, hungry with anticipation and full of desire. He didn’t know what she was going to do to him, but he knew for certain that it would be an experience he would never forget.
Chap XV
DI Robert Scott was driving back from his meeting with Mrs Saunders. After answering the phone earlier in the office, he had quickly called his wife, Margaret, to explain that he would be working late after all, had grabbed the keys of one of the unmarked police cars, tapped the postcode of Mrs Saunders’ address into his the car’s inbuilt satnav system and driven as fast as the roads would allow him, arriving at the Saunders residence in just under two hours.
Something in her voice had piqued Robert’s interest; it sounded like an investigative lead. He knew he had to get to her as fast as he could; emotional people were susceptible to ambivalence, changing their minds in an instant and Robert wanted to make sure he got to Janet before she changed hers.
He’d arrived at the address and had been let in by a tearful Mrs Saunders, her eyes swollen and puffy. As soon as he’d walked in she had thrust a calling card into his hand. With a feeling of excitement in his belly, he’d inspected the card. It was a business card for a London venue, The Garden, and it declared proudly that all fantasies could be catered for, all fetishes indulged and all types welcome.
According to the card it was open five days a week from eleven o’clock at night to 6am the following morning. Something for the night owls. The card on its own did not mean a great deal. So, David Saunders was in possession of a card for a bondage club? Big deal. However, if this was where he’d been on the night of his murder, one of the other club-goers could have been his killer.
Janet had led Robert through to the front room, the tea that had been politely laid out on the living room table during Robert’s previous visit now replaced with a bottle of scotch and a glass, two fingers of the liquid inside.
As she ushered Robert in, Janet had gone over to the side of the room and retrieved another crystal glass, placing it on the table and telling Robert to help himself. He had politely accepted her offer and poured himself a small measure. He had then sat silently on the sofa opposite Janet, a sense of déjà vu as he noticed he was sat in exactly the same spot as when he had visited with DC Jessop.
‘I am sorry to have called you like that. I was really distressed. And angry, you know? Then Megan came in and found me like that, it broke my heart for her and Charlie, I couldn‘t stop crying. I didn’t know who else to talk to. I can’t talk to my family about this, I don’t want them thinking badly of David,’ she had begun, tears once again brimming in her eyes.
‘That’s ok Janet. I’m glad you called me,’ Robert had said, compassionately.
Janet looked at him, finished the dregs of her Scotch and poured herself another large measure. Robert wondered how many she’d had before he’d got there. He didn’t blame her for wanting to drown her sorrows. If there was ever a time to throw one’s self over board it was during a crisis like this.
‘I’m sorry I was rude to you and the other detective before. He was so polite and kind. He was only doing his job I know, but when he asked me about David’s sex life… I don’t know, I felt like maybe I was being blamed for something.’
‘Why did you feel that way Mrs Saunders?’ Robert’s voice was sincere and calming.
‘I don’t know how to talk about this stuff. It’s so embarrassing!’ Janet wailed in distress, bringing her hands up to cover her face.
Robert felt her misery. Janet was dealing with so much, and she was dealing with it on her own whilst also having to be strong for her children.
‘Is your brother here Mrs Saunders? Should I call someone to come over?’ Robert was hoping that by diverting her thought processes for just a moment, it would allow Janet to regain some control of her emotions and assist her in imparting whatever it was she felt she needed to tell him.
‘No it’s fine. My brother had to go home, he’ll be back first thing. The kids are in their room, sleeping, or at least pretending to be asleep. I have no doubt they’ll come out to find me at some point. They both cry for him, especially Charlie who is that bit younger. He doesn’t understand that his daddy isn’t coming back.’
‘This is a terrible time for you. I can only offer you my condolences and do whatever I can to try and make this less painful for you...’ Robert trailed off. What a load of bullshit. What could he bloody do to make her feel better? It felt trite, but Janet seemed to be grateful of the sentiment.
‘Thank you. You’re very kind,’ she downed her drink again and poured a third.
‘The thing is, what I wanted to tell you, the young detective was right about David. He did enjoy… unusual sex.’ She went silent.
Robert also stayed silent, waiting for more. It only took an average of seven seconds before humans felt the urge to fill a pause in conversation with inane banter, usually a comment about the weather. Robert was well practised and knew how to use silences; indeed it was part of his interview technique, and often caused suspects to begin rambling. They could hear the antique clock on the mantle piece ticking, it’s rhythmic clicks counting the seconds like a conversational chronometer.
‘He liked to be tied up. And whipped,’ Janet began, ‘he liked to be dominated and told what to do. He wanted me to do things to him and he liked me to hurt him. I only ‘played’ as he called it, a couple of times. I found it too strange, and quite frankly, I found it disgusting. That’s not how I was raised. A man and a woman have sex because they love each other, as a way of showing their love. I couldn’t see where this whipping and mistreatment of the man I loved could fit into that philosophy. I did try though. I tried because I wanted to keep David happy. He was a good man and once he realised how much I disliked it, he never asked me again.’
She sighed, and took a sip of her Scotch.
‘I was relieved. I never thought about what this could mean in terms of cheating, fulfilment, you know? Desires like that don’t just disappear, do they? He must have still wanted to do those things, but just couldn’t do them with me. How could I have been so blind,’ Janet hung her head and raised a trembling hand to her mouth.
Robert sat silently watching her, turning over possibilities and unanswered questions in his head. Was their killer a long-term partner of David’s? Was it someone he indulged all his fantasies with? Was it a one-off thing? Was David a regular at The Garden? Was there club membership, were patrons photographed, did they pay a monthly fee, would anyone there be able to tell him anything …? So many questions.
‘He stayed in London on occasions, he told me it was work, but now, who knows? He could have been doing anything, going to that club,’ she pointed at Robert’s hand which was still holding the card, her face a picture of disgust. Robert remained silent.
‘He used to have all the gear, you know? Trousers, shirts, collars, ball gags, rope… the lot. After we fell out about the bondage stuff, he told me he had thrown it out. Who knows if he did or not. Maybe that’s what he had in his gym bag and maybe that was why he always left it in the car? I am so stupid aren’t I?’ Janet shook her head, sadly. ‘Stupid idiot wife. Can’t keep her husband happy, trusts him so much she doesn’t even look in his gym bag and never disbelieves him when he says he’s got to stay up town for work. No wonder men cheat on us all the time. We’re so stupid.’
‘Janet, you’re not stupid and not all men cheat, and of those that do it’s rarely because they can’t get what they want at home, it’s simply because they can,’ Robert replied, hoping what he was saying would reassure her. To be honest he didn’t have a clue why men cheated. He’d been faithful to his wife from the day he’d met her.
‘You mentioned you rowed with David about the bondage sex. Can you remember when this was?’ Robert asked, hoping to get an idea of h
ow long David may have been frequenting The Garden.
‘Oh that was years ago. We were still living at the old house then and Charlie was just a baby. I’ll be honest, it was a hard time for me. I had post-natal depression after Charlie was born and I was rowing with David over pretty much everything, not just the bondage. We both thought our marriage was going to end, but then we just clicked back into place, just like when we first married,’ a wry smile spread across her face at the memory.
‘How long have you lived here?’
‘We moved here two years ago, when David got his new job with PR International in London.’
‘Would you have the days he stayed up in London marked in a diary by any chance?’
‘No. I didn’t make a note or anything.’
‘What about the frequency?’ Robert continued
‘Well he stayed up there now and then, really. Maybe once every couple of months? Something like that. It wasn’t so often that I really felt his absence if you know what I mean?’
‘I do. Janet, I need to ask you some pretty embarrassing questions. I hope you’ll answer them and not feel that I am just prying into your private affaires.’
‘Yes, it’s ok. I have prepared myself for this. I won’t throw you out again, don’t worry,’ Janet smiled at Robert and he smiled back. It was the first time she had genuinely smiled and it lit up her face.
‘It’s not the first time I’ve been thrown out of someone’s house and I’m sure it won’t be the last,’ he replied, his eyes crinkling with good humour.
Janet leaned forward and reached out for the bottle of Scotch, then changed her mind and settled back in her chair, looking at Robert like an inmate on death row waiting for the guards to come and collect her on judgement day.
‘Can you tell me exactly what David liked you to do to him? The reason I’m asking is because if he was seeking the same gratification elsewhere, this could tell us something about the person who was maybe doing it to him. Do you understand what I mean?’
‘Not sure.’
‘What I mean is, from what I understand, there are some people who dominate, some who like to be dominated, some who do both, some who like to be hurt, those who like to do the hurting and so on… The more I know about David’s preferences the narrower our pool of potential suspects could become. The more I know, the better I can hunt for the person who murdered your husband,’ Robert explained.
Janet’s eyes welled up again at the word ‘murdered’ but she retained control of her emotions.
‘I see. This is so embarrassing. Will all of your colleagues have to know? I can’t bear to think of us becoming the canteen joke, I know how it can be at work. It’s oh so funny when it’s not happening to you.’
‘Janet, some of my colleagues will have to know aspects of this conversation, but it will not become public knowledge in any way. I give you my word I will do everything in my power to protect yours and David’s good name.’
Janet seemed satisfied by this. She sighed.
‘Ok. David told me he was a ‘sub’, he liked to be dominated. He usually wanted me to tie him to the bed, starfish style. He taught me the knots so that the rope wouldn’t tighten once it was done up and so that I wouldn’t cut off the circulation. Then, he liked me to use a thin cane on his chest and…’ Janet stopped, the words catching in her throat. This was not the sort of thing she was comfortable taking about.
‘It’s ok Janet. I assure you I am unshockable. When you’ve done as many years as a police officer as I have, you’ve pretty much seen and heard it all,’ Robert prompted. Janet nodded, but couldn’t meet Robert’s eye as she continued.
‘He also liked me to cane his genitals. Sometimes he wanted me to tie him face down and cane his backside. He also had this rubber whip that he liked me to use. He liked me to wear really high heels and press the heels into him. Sometimes he’d ask me to say things, and slap him. I didn’t like doing it at all, but I wanted to try and keep him happy, you know?’
‘Did he ever want to dominate you?’
‘No. Always me dominating him. I am a strong woman and I have no problem putting my point across or holding my ground in everyday life, but this to me was too strange. We only did it maybe six, seven times in all. At least, only that many times with me,’ she said sadly.
‘Last time we were here, Tony Jessop asked whether David had any homosexual tendencies. I know this must be very distressing, but are you sure he didn’t?’
Janet looked at him and for a moment Robert thought she was going to throw him out again, but instead she simply said: ‘I am one hundred percent positive he didn’t.’
Robert nodded. ‘I am sorry, but I had to ask.’
‘It’s ok. If any of this can help your investigation, I am willing to answer your questions.’
‘Had you ever heard of The Garden? Did you ever go to any of these clubs with David?’
‘No I didn’t. He asked me a couple of times if I would be willing and it normally sparked a row because I wasn’t prepared to do that sort of thing in public. At home, just the two of us was hard enough for me.’
‘Janet, this information has been very useful. Is there anything else at all you want to tell me, or think might assist me?’ Robert asked, sensing that the conversation was coming to a close.
‘That’s it. If I think of anything else, I’ll call you.’ Janet had offered him a weak smile, formalities were exchanged and Robert had left.
Now Robert was pulling onto his drive way. The living room light was on so he knew that Margaret was still up. He pulled the keys out of the car’s ignition and sat for moment, looking at his house, his mind mulling things over.
He took his phone out of his pocket and noticed he had a missed call from DC Lane. As he was about to dial his voicemail facility, he saw the kitchen light flick on and then saw Margaret’s silhouette through the net curtains.
Robert watched her for a while moving around the room, at the fridge, by the sink, taking something out of the cupboard. He couldn’t imagine being without Margaret; if she was taken from him, he wouldn’t want to continue living.
He returned the phone to his pocket suddenly overwhelmed with a need to hold onto his wife and tell her that he loved her. Whatever Elizabeth had to tell him could wait until the morning. He jumped out the car and walked to the front door. Nothing was going to stop him seeing his wife tonight and enjoying a few hours with her. Nothing.
************************************************
Mark Faversham had hastily thrust a couple of tenners through the cabbie’s window after the taxi had dropped him and Mina at his apartment, quickly opened the front door and made his way into the bedroom as ordered by the raven-haired goddess. He hadn’t even stopped for breath.
Now he was gagged and bound, his arms and legs stretched painfully, spread-eagled across his king-size bed, completely naked. He’d been lying here a while now. He didn’t know where Mina had gone.
For one brief moment he hoped that she wasn’t robbing him, removing his flat-screen TV and state of the art stereo system as he lay here powerless and vulnerable. He almost chuckled at the thought of being stuck, tied to the bed, his manhood on full display until Peter came back on Monday. How long could a human go without water again? He reckoned he’d probably survive until Monday night but it would be bloody agony. He wouldn’t even be able to shout for help, the ball gag preventing any form of speech other than grunts. As Mark was pondering how he could escape from his bonds should the need arise, he heard the bedroom door open.
Then suddenly, she was there, standing at his side, sporting long, black rubber gloves, a mini skirt that just skimmed the bottom of her arse cheeks and a sexy corset that finished below her perfect breasts. He felt himself becoming aroused as he admired her.
So, that was what she had in her bag - a change of clothes, transforming her from sex-on-legs to half-naked siren. He’d never seen such a beautiful woman or felt quite as aroused as he did now. He wondered what oth
er delights she kept in her bag.
Mina moved towards him, smiling provocatively, her skirt revealing tantalising flashes of her femininity as she sashayed towards the bed. She had something behind her back, which Mark hoped was a whip. He guessed he‘d find out soon enough.
She lent over him and kissed his forehead, her breasts hanging inches from his gagged mouth, her body sliding onto the bed and over him so that she was straddling him, her long legs circling beneath his torso, pulling him tight up against her naked sex. He winced as she squeezed her strong legs around him, his arms pulling against the ropes that bound him.
Mina, brought her right hand forward and showed him what she’d been hiding. It was a metallic circular object, about the size of a two-pence piece, with little needle like prongs around the circumference. It reminded mark of an old-fashioned doctor’s implement you might find at a museum.
The circular wheel was fastened to a black handle, which Mina now held in her hand. She placed the wheel against his chest and gently wheeled it across him from nipple to nipple. The prongs pricked his flesh, leaving a little trail of polka dots against his skin, but not breaking the surface. He groaned. It was an exquisite sensation; he could feel the heat of her intimate part against his swollen penis, sensuous and gentle, and he could feel the prickling across his skin, painful and distracting. He was loving it.
Then Mina stood up and looked down at him, towering over him on her heels, one hand against the ceiling so she could steady herself as the mattress moulded around her feet. Mark looked at her, confused. As he gazed up at her in the dim light, she looked different, her face looked different, but he couldn’t explain how. Was it her eyes? Where was that seductive gaze that had so captivated him? Where was that provocative smile? She looked - evil.
Mark felt his heart rate increase, a feeling of apprehension washing over him, rising from the very pit of his stomach. He’d seen live mice dropped into cages with hungry snakes; the mice knew their end was coming as the scent of the predator reached their olfactory organs. They would hunch and tremble, waiting for the inevitable to happen, sometimes with a pathetic little squeak, just before the snake struck. This was how he felt now. He was the mouse and she was the serpent. Somehow he knew this would be his death bed.
Sweet Oblivion Page 12