We Promise Not to Tell

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We Promise Not to Tell Page 24

by Albert Able


  The all male team staying at the hotel that same evening was one of the many successful police rugby squads from around the country. They had however lost their match on this occasion and were commiserating their lack of fortune in the bar after dinner, when the lady entered.

  “What’s the trouble with you lot?” She greeted them cheerfully having observed the long faces and subdued atmosphere.

  “Not another one,” one of the hefty players gibed “if you must know we lost to those little piss artists from Devon.”

  “Ah,” the lady immediately understood “well let me buy a round. That my help to cheer you boys up, yes?”

  Several looked up at the offer of a drink and accepted with alacrity.

  Another thanked her “but I think its time to throw in the towel” others also politely declined leaving her with five of their burley team mates and it wasn’t long before the lady politician invited them up to her ‘Top Floor’ suite.

  The five rugby players quickly discovered the cocktail cabinet and with practiced style systematically worked their way through the array of bottles and the party soon got underway.

  They were playing ‘Spoof’ the losers having to drink a large measure from one of the bottles on display in the cabinet; when that became boring they decided to vary the game to strip ‘Spoof’ the losers removing an item of clothing each time they lost.

  After about an hour and naked to the waist, the Lady politician lolled against the table holding a bottle of Vodka, she took another swig and then challenged. “So have any of you boys got it in you?” She slurred.

  They all looked up trying to comprehend the question, noticing her ample mammaries for the first time.

  “Hey baby,” one leered leaning over and cupping one of the breasts, which more than filled his hand “this is just like a ripe melon and ready for plucking” he bent down and roughly sucked the nipple.

  The others suddenly lost interest in the game and pushed forward to share the new challenge.

  “Okay boys be patient,” she pushed them back contemptuously “I’m going to fuck you all” she slurred “It’s just a question of who goes first?” She carefully stood the bottle on the table and headed to the bedroom gesturing with her finger for the ‘boys’ to follow.

  They mounted her one after the other, laughing and shouting encouragement as the next man performed his turn.

  “Okay boys so you think that was pretty good eh,” she challenged “ well see if you can do that again this way.” The lady politician knelt on the bed inviting them to mount her from behind.

  “I’ll have a bit of that,” one howled leaping forward excitedly.

  “I bet you’ll find this one a bit tighter.” She wiggled her bottom invitingly and squealing hysterically as the first man penetrated her anus.

  The party continued until the men were all but exhausted; then suddenly there was gagging roar of horror from the last man as he fell away exhausted from his ‘doggy’ routine.

  The scream was followed by the most appalling stench as a jet of projectile faeces sprayed involuntarily from the woman into the man, ricocheting onto the bed and surrounding furniture.

  The woman fell forward in a pained heap as the rugby players tried to comprehend the source of the stench. Then as reality slowly dawned on the stupefied men, they recoiled in horror at the realisation of what they were splashing about in.

  It seems, that having revelled in an excess of anal sex, as the last rutting bull of a rugby player withdrew and fell back exhausted on the bed. The woman suffered a sudden bowel spasm causing an uncontrollable defecation, sending a stream of hot-feted faeces hosing across her playmates on the bed.

  Within seconds the whole room was smeared as the men panicked trying to escape the vile mess. They grabbed at bed linen, the curtains, anything with which to remove the stinking faeces, which seemed to creep on to them like some progressive plague but there was no escape, for everything they touched was soon contaminated.

  Unsurprisingly they had all sobered up, there was no more laughter just throaty cursing, eventually, desperate to wash the stench away, they all crowded into the shower.

  When I watched the video later I was just glad there was no scent recording facility.

  The following morning the woman signed her account and left without a word.

  Several members of the police rugby team however had spent much of the night and morning trying to eliminate the stains of their nightmare and sheepishly slipped away next morning.

  One week later I received a ‘Private & Confidential’ letter of apology from the lady explaining that she had suffered a serious bowel disorder and the consequential mess had been so embarrassing that she had left without reporting it. She enclosed a personal cheque for a four figure sum stating. “I was in interior design before going into politics and so have a good idea about how much the refurbishing of the room will be. If the enclosed is insufficient please accept this letter as my promise to cover any further costs.”

  I replied. “Your candidness is understood and the contribution to the refurbishment is appreciated. I anticipate that there will be a substantial balance from your cheque which I will credit to your account to pay for your future visits when, as ever, I trust you will be enjoy our discrete hospitality.”

  The lady did in fact continue to use the hotel but later that year the government changed and apart from a couple of small news items I never heard of her again.

  The big bull police rugby player however, became a prominent member of the force.

  Chapter 32 - Connie

  Although Marcus was still a Director of the International Hotel Chain at that time he only travelled away to visit the European hotels once a month and so was able to spend most of his time working on the new hotel developments leaving me to look after the City Express hotel.

  In spite of the shaky start Max Harris now had his food and beverage franchise running smoothly at the ‘City Express hotel’ which meant that guests using the restaurant were happy with the food and service, which in turn allowed me to concentrate on finding new corporate clients to keep the hotel bedrooms filled.

  Graham Radshaw was delighted with the new ‘Top Floor’ and seemed to have an endless stream of clients willing to pay a substantial fee to have its exclusive use.

  Grateful as we were for the extra income, Marcus and I spent many a sleepless night worrying about the possible consequences and promising ourselves that once the business was strong enough, we would close the ‘Top Floor’ down but I suppose it was a bit like trying to give up smoking and so we were for ever delaying making that final decision.

  To my surprise, I discovered that the local Councillor, involved in the fracas at the opening of the restaurant, together with several different ladies had become a regular on the ‘Top Floor’; his voracious appetite for extra marital sex in a variety of exotic positions were all captured on our video camera but his undoing came when one of his ‘harem’ discovered that she apparently did not have his exclusive attention and decided to share the knowledge with the Councillors wife.

  That little act triggered another problem, because it turned out that the Councillors wife who, unknown to him, knew all about her husbands infidelities and was happily conducting her own little bit of extra marital sex with, you’ve got it, the lady in question’s husband whilst she was with the Councillor so you can imagine the mayhem this situation caused.

  The worst part from our point of view was the arrogant Councillor’s threat to expose the ‘Top Floor’, regardless of the shame it would pour on his own macho image.

  In the end, it was the ever-resilient Graham Radshaw who, after a series of private meetings with each of the people involved, managed to resolve the situation.

  I never knew what was said, other than when Graham telephoned he assured me “You can rest easy now, I have agreed a truce with all parties but I am afraid it means none of those involved will be returning to enjoy your hospitality in the future.”


  “I really don’t care,” I retorted ignoring the favour Graham had just done for us “in fact I wish we could close the whole thing down for good!”

  Graham Radcliff was obviously disturbed by my attitude but reacted diplomatically, as he always did. “Now Connie don’t worry so much,” he smoothly reassured me “just think how few real problems we had over the years and now we are actually getting more genuine clients for confidential business meetings.”

  “What kind of confidential business meetings?” I queried.

  “Listen my dear all you need to know is that they pay handsomely. Okay?”

  That sent another chilly shiver up my spine; I knew of course that he only wanted us to keep the ‘Top Floor’ operational because of the fat fees he was making from it and so I wondered what new clandestine activities he had in mind.

  The one thing however, that Graham Radcliff did not know, was that we had secretly installed the video camera, which in turn gave me a small measure of comfort.

  Chapter 33 - Connie

  Over the next few months the ‘Top Floor’ saw regular use and without a single incident until one late afternoon when a white-faced Graham Radcliff appeared at my office at the hotel.

  Always the smooth super calm diplomat, I was shocked to see him shoulders bowed his hand trembling as he slumped into the chair facing me.

  I had never seen him in such a terrible state. “Graham what ever is the matter?” I stood up in alarm.

  It was unusual for me to be there at that time of day but Marcus had been busy elsewhere and so I decided to catch up on some of that paperwork which sits at the bottom of the tray and required that little bit of extra effort to complete.

  I never knew for certain until that moment but I often suspected that Graham’s job with the ‘Diplomatic Corps’ involved some mysterious cloak and dagger activities.

  “Is that your direct line?” Graham asked quietly leaning forward.

  “Yes” I replied in a similarly quiet tone sitting down again.

  “May I?” he raised his eyebrows.

  “Of course”

  Graham dialled; the call was answered instantly. “We have an emergency situation” turning his back to me, he spoke in a low but firm tone “five men down, one of them ours it’s a bloody mess.” He took a deep breath trying to control the tremor in his is voice. “No, no one else involved” he turned and looked directly at me as he listened. “Okay I’ll meet them there.” Graham replaced the receiver.

  “Connie I’m sorry but it is vital that you know nothing about all of this,” he slumped back into the chair and glanced at his watch “there has been a major problem in the ‘Top Floor,’” he ran a hand through his hair “anyway, the people I work for are sending a team to sort it all out so you have nothing worry about.” Graham slowly pulled himself out of the chair. “The truth is Connie, the people I work for will want this to be, shall we say, ‘something that never happened’. So if anything was ever to leak out, you and the hotel, never mind the ‘Top Floor’ will, to put it mildly, be in deep shit,” he moved hesitantly towards the door “I can’t think straight for the moment so I’ll have to get back to you,” he opened the door and looked back at me, he was desolate “what ever else; say nothing and do nothing, especially do not go any where near the ‘Top Floor’ until I get back to you; agreed?”

  “Take it easy Graham.” I tried to calm him. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Connie there five dead men up there,” he grabbed my arm “I beg you just make yourself vanish for the rest of the day anywhere away from the hotel and wait for my call this evening!” He insisted, the urgency in his voice verging on panic.

  “Okay, okay” I tried to calm him even as my own stomach cringed at the reality of what he was telling me “but are you sure you’re all right?” I persisted even as the implications of what he had just said bombarded my thoughts.

  Graham Radcliff squared his shoulders and with a more confident smile gently patted my hand and left the office.

  That was the last time I ever saw or heard of Graham Radcliff in the flesh.

  There was however some astonishing video footage from the hidden cameras.

  Chapter 34 - Connie

  I did not do as Graham Radcliff had insisted because I realised that if the camera was found we would certainly be in trouble; so I slipped unseen out of my office and hurried to the ‘Top Floor’. I did not enter the apartment, I did not relish the idea of five dead bodies; instead I went straight to the laundry cupboard with its secret panel and removed the video tapes and the recorder together with any sign that it had ever been there and managed to slip away from the building just a laundry van pulled to a halt at the rear entrance and several men carrying what appeared to be large suitcases vanished into the direct access to the ‘Top Floor’.

  I didn’t wait to see any more and with my heart pounding in my chest expecting at any second to hear a challenge walked, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible back to our apartment.

  Chapter 35 - Marcus

  I arrived at our apartment just minutes after Connie; as I entered the door she threw herself in my arms. “Oh Marcus we have a problem with the ‘Top Floor’. Graham Radcliff is in terrible trouble and there has been some kind of tragedy up there; sounded like several men could be dead!”

  “Steady now,” I told her holding her tightly “let’s sit down and you can tell me exactly what this is all about.”

  “The trouble is I’m not really sure because Graham was falling apart when he told me; he insisted that I was not to be seen or to get involved in any way,” Connie pulled away from me, she now had that familiar look of determination “he said that the people he works for would not want us to know anything about the incident; he said they could be very dangerous and was adamant that I left the hotel immediately,” Connie moved across the room and picked up a package from the sideboard “but I did recover the video tapes perhaps we should take a look?” She held out the cassettes.

  I was naturally stunned by the impact and implications of what she had told me and whilst I was initially angry that Connie should have taken the risk to recover the camera, was quick to realise what a smart move it had been. It also dawned on me that Graham Radcliff’s people, who ever they were, would probably want to call on us to check our whereabouts and ascertain what if anything we knew about the incident.

  “Not here my darling,” I grabbed the tape “I think we had better go around to Max’s place, just in case we get a visit from Graham’s friends.”

  Max had just arrived and he and Naomi were preparing to have an early supper.

  “Sorry to call unannounced,” I apologised “can I have a quick word?”

  With Max there was never any need to beat about the bush. “Come right in, we can wait even though we’re starving” he added in mock sarcasm as he waved us into the apartment.

  “A little bit of bother.” I gestured towards the spare bedroom he used as his ‘home office’

  I carefully explained everything that we knew. “I don’t like the idea of getting you mixed up with this but I was a bit worried about having this laying about at home.” I held out the videocassette.

  “Let’s start by seeing what it’s all about eh?” Max took the tape and fed it into the player. “Do you want Connie to see it as well?”

  “I better ask her, you know what she’s like.”

  “Indeed I do.” Max guffawed.

  Connie however declined the invitation. “I have no desire to see it thank you.” She had already made up her mind that she had no desire to witness the probable images the videos contained.

  It was just as well because the carnage, which eventually appeared, was enough to turn the strongest of stomachs.

  The video cameras were triggered automatically when the door of the ‘Top Floor’ opened and three smartly dressed men entered. One was obviously European the other two probably Arabic. One of the Arabs immediately disappeared out of view, we assumed to check around th
e apartment. The second Arab was carrying a leather briefcase and sat at the table carefully positioning the case in front of him. The third man hovered and spoke to the man out of shot.”

  “What language is that”? Max queried.

  “French but he has an English accent.” I told him and translated.

  “They’re late.” The man at the table looked at his wristwatch.

  The other Arab re-appeared and spoke to his colleague apparently satisfied with the room’s security. “Looks okay.”

  At that moment the door opened and Graham Radcliff accompanied by two European men, both carrying small document cases entered.

  “You piped us to the elevator,” Graham smiled weakly trying to excuse their tardiness “so here are the Mossad delegates you have been briefed on” he waved his hand at the two Europeans “and I can confirm that they are authorised to negotiate the arrangement with you and this is my colleague.” Graham pointed towards the Englishman.

  The two Europeans gave a stiff bow and seated themselves at the table facing the Arabs with their own document cases on the table in front of them.

  So far all the conversation had been in French, which I had translated to Max.

  “Are we happy in French or would English be easier?” Graham asked standing at the head of the table.

  “The contracts are in English” one of the Arabs offered “so?”

  The proceedings immediately lapsed into English.

  “The first thing we need to understand” Graham addressed the men “is that this meeting is of course top level confidentiality, which is why we have chosen this unusual location in order to ensure absolute secrecy.”

  The men all nodded approval.

 

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