Precious Time - Part 2

On the next day the first of my modelling sessions was to take place. After a shower, I addressed the most pressing question facing a girl in my situation, deciding what to wear. After trying a few different styles I chose a pleat skirt in an ecru shade and a tight top which went well with it. Pleased with the how the result discreetly showed off my curviness, I headed down to the restaurant for breakfast. The Plaza provided a tempting choice to suit all tastes but I resisted and helped myself to coffee and a bowl of fruit and yoghurt.

Returning to my room I set about making myself up with particular care. I donned my blonde wig and the transformation to Mistie was complete. There was a convenient exit from the Plaza via the hotel garage providing me with the ability to enter and leave without passing the reception desk, the benefit being that I need not concern myself about which persona I happened to have adopted. Minutes later I was hailing a cab enroute to the studio.

The photo session that day was pretty routine and went very smoothly. By mid-afternoon, I was done for the day. I made my adieus to the proprietor, Madame Blanche, as she liked to term herself and left. Before leaving the building, I visited the powder room and removed all traces of my working persona to emerge as Jennifer once again. Instead of calling a cab I’d decided to return to the hotel on foot. In these hotter southern climes I would feel more comfortable if free of my blonde hairpiece and without its encumbrance it would be very pleasant to stroll along in the sunshine.

Exploring a strange town was exciting. I walked through a street market which adjoined the downtown. There were new sights, sounds and smells in abundance and my progress slowed time and again as my attention was caught by objects of interest. I purchased some fruit at a stall and tried on a few trinkets at another. It took much longer than I’d estimated to reach the hotel but who cared? After work, the rest of the day was my own and hey, I was having fun!

As I sauntered through the hotel lobby without a care in the world, I was brought up short by the sight which met my eyes. Occupying a circular bench in the centre of the adjoining lounge was seated a figure I didn’t particularly want to see. With a leaden feeling in the pit of my stomach I recognised the agent I’d met on my journey here. Guy was hunched over what looked like a glass of coke and though I was well within his field of vision he pointedly was not noticing me!

I heaved a reluctant sigh and took the hint. Without regarding the man in the least, I walked across to one of the bookshelves on the wall and selected a volume at random. Then I positioned myself on the same bench but with my back to him. I waited. His move!

It was some minutes before he spoke. “Where have you been?” came his urgent whisper at last. “Your session finished at two-thirty, and you ought to have been back hours ago. I called your room three times. In the end I decided to come here in person.”

“Okay, okay” I murmured, marvelling at the amount of detailed information he possessed about my day. “I didn’t know when you would want to contact me.”

“Try and be more predictable, please. It’s vital that we are not seen to be connected. Meeting isn’t safe, anywhere!”

I bowed my head in what I hoped was a contrite pose, though as he sat with his face away from me my humility was doubtless lost upon the man. “What am I to do, then?”

“Not so fast. You ought to know a little more about what you might be facing here. The organisation we suspect to be the source of the leaks is called Research Incorporated. Last month we put one of our agents into it, name of Charlie Waters. That was a disaster. Two weeks ago he was found stabbed. We got him to hospital, but it was too late. We have no clue as to what he’d discovered. All Waters spoke of before he died was some phrase that we don’t understand, something like Grey Falcon.”

“The Grey Falcon?”

“We can’t be sure. If that’s what he actually said, it signifies some place or someone, but so far that hasn’t made any sense to us.”

“It sounds like a bar.”

“There’s no such place in town. I checked.”

Unable to suggest an alternative my thoughts ran in another direction. “If he was killed then it shows he was definitely onto something” I murmured uneasily.

“Yes, and it also shows that this assignment is dangerous. If you want to pull out, I will quite understand.” What I took to be a note of heaviness crept into Guy’s voice as he spoke these words. I could tell that the man was facing a burdensome scenario.

His disclosure reinforced the doubts I had been entertaining over getting involved in this clandestine work. Such a ready-made excuse to drop the whole deal ought to have been welcome to my ears. Naturally I ought to shrink from getting involved in anything hazardous. I had responsibilities to care for Rachel and the baby she was carrying. My baby. Just now, I was the sole breadwinner in our household. Something in the government man’s manner stopped me in my tracks however, and I heard myself saying. “No. You can count me in!”

Perhaps I was crazy, but the heartfelt sigh of relief uttered from my companion provided sufficient reward for the present time.

“Good girl!”

“What will I do?” I repeated my former question.

“I’d like you to begin by seeing if you can get to know a man called Smith, Carson Smith. He works as a technician at Research Incorporated. Reputedly he’s brilliant but also somewhat unstable and we know that Waters was checking on him. He may be at the heart of this whole business.”

“Why don’t you arrest him?”

“There’s a reason we don’t want to do that, a very good reason.”

“Well?”

“It’s complicated and there’s no time to explain right now. I just need you to get to know the guy, friendly-like.”

That seemed easy. “Where can I find him?”

“There’s a night spot across town called the Continental where we know he hangs out. Quite a few of his colleagues go there, it seems. It’s well-known as a place where certain types of females can be met, good-time girls, often spoilt debutantes looking for excitement. Young, pretty and frivolous are Smith’s particular preferences, apparently. You possess the first two qualities in spades and, I’m guessing, can easily pretend to the third so it shouldn’t be too difficult for you to make contact.”

I was flattered by his confidence in me. It made a change for me not to be regarded as a complete shatter brain, as my mother would have phrased it. Perhaps little Jenny Wren had grown wings!

“Do you think you can do that?”

“I guess.” The task didn’t sound too demanding. I was quite accustomed to being on the receiving end of men’s attention so I reckoned I could handle whatever fallout might result.

“It isn’t the choicest of places for a respectable girl to be seen in. You may need to dress a little on, shall we say, the louche side.”

“I can do ‘louche’” I tried not to smile.

“This is serious” came back the murmured reproof.

I had already become practical, however. None of the clothes I had brought with me would be suitable for such an enterprise. “I’ll need something glamorous to wear… I know. I may be able to borrow a prom dress from tomorrow’s photoshoot. I’m sure there’ll be something there that will hit the right note… or is it the wrong note?” I stifled a giggle.

Ignoring my levity, Guy sounded deadly serious. “That’s good!” He drained his glass and stood to go. “We’ll be in touch.”

“But…” Next moment I was alone. Aargh! How was I to get hold of the man if I needed to? What was I supposed to look for if I encountered this Carson? I tried to control my vexation over the sketchiness of the briefing I’d received. I shrugged my shoulders, returned my book to the shelves and made my way disconsolately up to my room. There would be nothing for it but to follow the scant instruction I’d been given and proceed blindly, one step at a time.

The following day’s photo session went as well as the previous one and Madame Blanche seemed highly satisfied with my efforts. I took advantage of the favourable climate to make my request.

The woman thought for a moment then grudgingly gave her approval. “Well… just this once. Feel free to borrow one of the items you have already modelled. They won’t be used again as props and if we were to sell them it would be for a fraction of their worth, so we won’t do that either. More to the point, it would clearly undermine the novelty of the range itself when it finally comes to market if it were seen too often. However… I guess that a single one being worn just once won’t hurt. As long as you bring whatever you select straight back, you may go ahead and choose one!”

I needed no further urging. It took a considerable time to decide what to borrow as there were several styles and hues of evening frock now available. I wanted something a little risqué that didn’t make me look trashy. In the end I settled for a ruffled cocktail-length dress in shocking pink which looked as if it had stamina.

This time I hailed a cab for the return to the hotel, anxious to avoid compromising Guy’s ideas on security. It wasn’t that I dreaded another scolding from my ‘control’, as I was beginning to think of him, but was mindful that any tardiness might put either one of us in some real or imagined danger. To my disappointment, the hotel lobby was devoid of tall, dark handsome men and putting my head around the door to check in the lounge drew a blank also. I took the stairs up to my room and let myself in. There was no sign of Guy there either, but before me on the carpet lay something which possibly might hold a clue.

I pounced on the plain envelope which had been slipped under the door and lost no time opening it. Out tumbled a latchkey. Picking it up from where it had fallen, I gazed at it in puzzlement. I searched the envelope for a note of explanation but there was nothing except a letter ‘G’ inscribed under its fold. That meant it was from Guy, I hazarded. I could make that connection, but from there on in I was mystified.
It wasn’t until I noticed that on the fob attached to the key was printed an address, ‘The Oaktree Motel’ and a number 17 had been scrawled over it. A rendezvous perhaps? Even I could work that out. Perhaps I was getting better at this spying game. Why, I wondered, did the infuriating man have to be so obscure? I determined to go to the motel later that same evening after my excursion to the nightclub. Though I didn’t feel in the least hungry with all the excitement, I hastily devoured a sandwich, curtesy of room service, then after showering, I made myself up again with extra special care.

When, finally, I put on my prom dress I was satisfied that I’d made a good choice. The material was soft and flowing and had a subtle sheen which I liked. Its off the shoulder style revealed a little, but not too much, of my swelling bustline. There were matching shoes and purse too, providing a touch of class. The result was very feminine but not overly provocative and that was what I thought I should be aiming for.

When I contemplated the evening ahead, the adrenalin was pumping. What might be demanded of me? However, Agent J was on the case and though she might be lacking in experience, I took solace in that she looked the part she intended to play. This was thrilling!

I put on a little cropped jacket over my frock, phoned for a cab and ten minutes later I was on my way across town.

“The Grey Falcon, please!” I directed the driver. After all, he might be in possession of more local knowledge than the government man.

“Where’s that?” came the response.

“I thought you would know.”

“Beats me!”

“Okay.” It had been worth a shot, but I had to admit to myself that Guy’s research had been thorough. There was clearly no such place in town.

“Take me to the Continental, then.”

“You got it.”

The lobby of the nightspot was brightly lit and the décor upbeat, not to say garish. After visiting the powder room to check my hair and make-up, I made my way with trepidation to the barroom. I entered and sauntered across the room as calmly as I could, my heart thumping so loudly I wondered if it could be heard.

An eye-catching group of girls were chatting to one of the waitresses at one end of the counter. The bar attendant’s style of dress was loud, and her clientele had clearly spared no trouble nor expense in getting themselves up. There were bouffant dresses and elaborately coiffed hairdos galore. Their babble of conversation fell ominously silent at my approach. I became conscious of unfriendly stares, which added to my sense of disquiet. I immediately felt myself to be underdone and awkward, though in reality my own outfit was not dissimilar to their own.

Whether the hostility I sensed was real or merely a product of my fevered imagination, I’m not sure, but instinctively I sheered away from the group and continued on to the other end of the bar where there was space to breathe. My eyes met those of the woman serving behind that part of the counter. She was less exotically dressed than her colleague and younger, and there was sympathy in the glances we exchanged.
“I believe its frosty in some parts tonight” she commented with an arch smile.

I grinned back at her. Here, at least, was another human being.

“Oh, well” I shrugged. “They’re young!”

“Too right! If any of them are sixteen, I’ll be surprised.”

Being nearly seventeen myself, much more mature, I felt glad to excluded from her summation! Sophisticatedly, I tried not to laugh too loudly. “Really? They seem so self-assured.”

“It comes of having a rich daddy.”

“You might be right.” I seated myself on the nearest stool.

“I know I am! Well, what can I get you?”

Before I could answer, I heard “Allow me.” Glancing over my shoulder I saw that the words had come from a well-spoken man, tall and fair-haired, who had approached unheard and stood a few yards behind me.

“May I send you a drink!”

I liked his good manners and inclined my head in assent.

“I can recommend the martinis here” he added. “Very dry.”

I nodded my assent and my friendly bar attendant set about mixing one. That gave me time to consider how I ought to act to handle the unexpected attention I was getting. By the time the drink was ready I had reached the only conclusion possible. I would simply go with the flow!

I turned my head towards the man. “Thank you, kind sir. Won’t you join me?”

“You’re welcome, pretty lady. I’d like that.”

I sipped my drink cautiously as the lean blond guy walked over and sat himself beside me. He ordered the same drink. “I guess you’re new around here, else why would a classy girl like you be seen in the Continental, and on her own.”

“I’m just visiting this city for a few days. I heard this was the hippest place in town and I thought I’d check it out.” I responded defensively.
He nodded in agreement and a silence followed.

This approach wasn’t getting me anywhere. I needed to stay friendly but be more assertive. “Do you always give your new friends the third degree? I’m Jennifer, by the way.”

The blonde man held up his hands in mock surrender.

“And I’m Carson, Carson Smith. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to be impertinent.”

Bullseye! The immediate goal of my mission had been accomplished, and at the first attempt too. I tried not to let my triumph go to my head. Now what I must do would be to find out what he was doing here and more about this place itself. How to achieve that I hadn’t any clear idea. I would just have to play it by ear.

“That’s okay. I’m not really mad at you, Carson. That’s an unusual name, but it seems to suit you.”

“Glad you like it. It was my maternal grandfather’s name. I hope it’s the first of many things about me you find acceptable.”

We chatted back and forth in light vein for some time. He downed his martini at a gulp and at his signal the waitress poured him another. “That makes five” she murmured under her breath.

I sipped my drink cautiously. I was well aware that I was unused to strong liquor and it might be vital to keep a clear head. However, my new acquaintance was easy to talk to. He had a wonderful smile which seemed to light up the whole room. I took him to be just like any other regular fellow. Perhaps he might drink a little too heavily, but who was counting? I started to hope that Guy had been wrong about him and that he was one of the good guys.

It was nearly midnight when I left the place, but no matter how late the hour, I knew I had to see my mentor that night. Instead of asking the cab driver to take me back to my hotel I backed my guess about the key I’d been given. “Oaktree Motel, please” I directed, my heart in my mouth. Minutes later I alighted and, asking the man to wait, I took the key out of my purse and scanned the row of doors, looking for room 17. The object of my quest was at the very end of the walkway. The lightbulb above the door had expired some time ago and had not been replaced so it was hard to make out my surroundings. This was scary. Though the night was warm I shivered. Screwing up all my courage, I inserted the key in the lock and turned it.

There were no lights burning inside but by the dim glow from the other apartments I could see that I had entered a tiny lobby. Not knowing what was ahead of me I took a deep breath and closed the outside door behind me. Then I ventured into the unknown. Opening the door ahead of me a fraction I called “Guy?” as softly as I could. Whom would I encounter? What would I find?

The response was immediate. A switch clicked and the room was flooded with light. I blinked in the harsh glare of a solitary ceiling lamp. My colleague stood in front of me hands on hips. Relief!

“Do you have to make things so mysterious?” I protested. “I only got here by backing a hunch.”

His response was exasperating. “You’re a smart cookie. I knew you would figure it out.”

Before I could question for what possible reason our rendezvous had been left to chance, he held up his hand for silence.
“Were you followed?” Guy switched off the light and cautiously looked out of the window. “There’s a car there” he whispered.

“I expect that will be my cab” I replied in a normal voice. “I didn’t know whether to pay the driver off or ask him to wait.”

“What were you thinking? Send him away! Quickly now!” he snapped.

On my return from doing so, Guy seemed mollified. He asked me to sit and offered me a coffee. I declined the latter as the hour was so late and perched myself on one of the beds while my interlocutor sat himself opposite me.

“Okay” he began. “Tell me what happened.”

Trying hard to keep the triumph out of my voice I told him how I’d managed to meet Carson and was on friendly terms with this my primary target.

“Is that all?”

This reaction seemed hardly fair to my mind. Had I not obeyed his minimal directions to the letter? “There’s more.”

“Go on.”

“Well Carson and I were getting along fine. He kept drinking and offering me more drinks, but I managed to refuse most of them without offending him. Then there was an interruption. A man with a shock of white hair appeared from a doorway at the back of the bar. He was well-built and acted like he owned the place. I found out later that he does… own the place. He swaggered over to where Carson and I were sitting and greeted my drinking partner who seemed really ill at ease at being addressed so familiarly.

He then made some remark about me being ‘something new’ and referred to me as a ‘little tease’. Can you believe his nerve? He ribbed Carson about me being too young for him saying something like ‘underage again’ in a stage whisper. Though he was acting as if he disapproved, I could tell he wasn’t actually shocked or anything. He was just twisting his victim’s tail. That’s how it seemed. Carson made no protest but behaved as if he was being controlled somehow.”

I continued. “Anyway, this white-haired heel just laughed at him and told him he’d better introduce us.”

Guy was listening attentively now. “Go on” he repeated.

“Well, Carson mumbled an introduction of sorts, quite unwillingly. He told him my name, and said the other man was called Nick, Nick Saunders. This Saunders man said that that was no way to introduce anyone. He came over all gallant and kissed my hand. I didn’t mean to encourage him but I sort of smiled, out of politeness. Next moment, I was in his arms, and it was a real bear hug. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his hand sort of slipped down to my butt and pressed me against him. It felt… Eww!”

“Come on! I can see you were enjoying yourself?” Guy looked amused.

“Seriously, it was horrid!” I protested. I felt nettled that the man hadn’t given full credit to my story. While it actually was true that the experience was quite pleasurable, I wasn’t going to own that sensation. How was he to know what I had been feeling?

“I’ll believe you” he smirked. My companion’s lack of sympathy was palpable.

I glared at the man. What did he take me for? Admittedly, I didn’t usually mind being grappled to the muscular torso of a very handsome man all that much. Not if he smelled good and was impeccably dressed, and this fellow was a real dish. What was not to like? As it happened, however, on this occasion I’d offered some resistance. I’d been anxious to retain some kind of control over events.

“Tell me the rest.”

I sniffed haughtily and went on. “Well, Carson could see I didn’t like being pawed like that because he tried to intervene, if only half-heartedly. But Nick just brushed his protest aside and told him to get lost. He obeyed like it was a command from on high and shuffled away to the other end of the counter, without another word. I was quite dismayed at being left to defend my honour as best I could.”

Guy broke in upon my thoughts, unsympathetically. “This is all very intriguing, but it isn’t getting us very far.”

“Wait! I haven’t got to the best part, yet.”

“Well…”

“As Carson walked away, this Saunders said something to him under his breath. It sounded like ‘make sure you bring the stuff tomorrow’. Then out loud, ‘you know what will happen, if you don’t’.”

I paused for dramatic effect. My mentor looked impressed, in spite of his earlier scepticism. Triumphantly, I topped my success with a final surmise. “What if…, what if this Nick were the Grey Falcon that your agent referred to. He had a head of white hair. Too close to be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

Guy remained unconvinced. “Possibly. I guess it’s possible. Anyway, in either case, you’ve done really well. I knew you would be good at this.”
His face broke into a smile, which gave me a real thrill. I started to think I might be cut out for this work. Me! Agent J, a secret investigator!
“So, what now?”

“I’ll have this Saunders checked out. If you’re right about his involvement, we need to know what is going on behind the scenes at that Continental joint. For starters you will have to go there again tomorrow and think of a way of getting a look around the back room that Saunders came out of.”

He hesitated as if for dramatic effect. “Now, pay close attention. Getting in may be easy but leaving again may be harder. Here’s something that may help if things get out of hand.”

Here, I expected my control to pass me some means of protection which I would have to strap to my thigh underneath my skirts, a dagger perhaps, or a small revolver. Wow! This was getting exciting. Instead, Guy handed me a tiny packet. “This phial contains a powerful narcotic.” He took out a flat plastic disc and demonstrated by rotating it so that a short needle was exposed. “A quick jab and a squeeze, and they’ll be out for hours. Only use it if you have to, however.”

I was impressed!

“And now, it’s bed for you!”

What?! My mind was going about 100 miles per hour and my consternation clearly showed in my face. Guy grinned. “Not here, of course! Sorry if I disappoint you but I reckon you’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

My face flushed scarlet. Of course I wasn’t desirous of… well, what he seemed to be implying. Unaccountably, however, my feathers were ruffled. In reality, half of me had been expecting the handsome man to make a pass at me all though our interview, and now I felt as if I was being dismissed like a child. After all, a girl has her pride!

“I’ve a spare car here that you can drive back to your hotel. Hang on to it. When you are done with it you can leave it in the garage there and I’ll have it collected.”

Now this sounded better; more in keeping with the special equipment Agent J would need for her mission! My imagination started to run apace, picturing something long, sleek and black, adorned with CD plates; or perhaps a low-slung muscle car packed with hidden gadgetry.

My fantasy was short-lived. Instead of a shining limousine worthy of an undercover agent, the car which was drawn up outside proved to be of far humbler style. Known derisively as a European compact, its colour was a mundane olive drab. So much for my fancy ideas of the glamourous world of espionage. I tried not to let my disappointment show in my voice as I thanked my benefactor.

On top of this let down, Guy’s parting shot jarred my fraught sensibilities. “Your dress is nice, very nice. What’s needed is something more than nice, or less. Next time you might want to wear something with a little more oomph.”

Whatever!

The following morning, I set off in my borrowed vehicle bright and early to drive to the studio. As might only be expected this far south, it was going to be another hot day. Despite that, I was too pre-occupied to pay much attention to the weather, nor to the deficiencies of the automobile I was driving, which had proved to be a very basic model. The questions which were chasing each other around in my brain were, how could I gain access to the secrets hidden within the walls of the Continental and… what ought I wear for the attempt?

On the second, and as any girly girl would agree, the more pressing of these two conundrums, I knew that my choice of attire would be limited to one of the frocks I had already worn in the photo sessions completed so far. Nothing with the required kind of oomph came to mind. Perhaps something from today’s impending shoot would fit the bill. I concluded that I needed to be on my best behaviour today and be blessed with a large slice of luck if I were to retain the good will of Madame and induce her to lend me another dress. Occupied as my thoughts were by this riddle, it is unsurprising perhaps that I had gotten no nearer to the solution of the other puzzle by the time I turned the car into the parking lot behind the studio. No plan for the evening had arisen in my mind.

The first sight that met my eyes on entering the studio was the substantial figure of Maurice. His ever-present smile broadened as he caught sight of me. That was nice, though I could have done without his gaze running over my entire body from head to toe quite so obviously.

“What are you doing here?” I queried.

“Now, that’s not friendly!” he joked taking the opportunity to fold me in a lingering hug.

“Oh, you know what I meant” I exclaimed, disentangling myself as quickly as I could. It was much too early in the day to be pawed like that. To regain my equanimity, I spent the next moments making a parade of straightening my clothing.

“Apart from taking an interest in your welfare, young lady, I have a pressing motive. Today you will be modelling a range of cocktail wear from one of my own clients. Very stylish, very chic!”

His words were music to my ears. Perhaps I would be able to borrow a dress with a décolleté suitably daring to meet Agent J’s latest requirements. At the close of the session, I screwed up my courage and made my request. With a decided shake of her head, Madame Blanche declined, as indeed I had feared she might.

“I brought the other one back completely okay” I pleaded, but to no avail.

“It’s against our rules and though I did make an exception before, that occasion has to have been a one-off. I can’t make a habit of it.”

I hung my head despondently. I had no backup plan, but it transpired that my conversation with Madame had been overheard. I was about to return to the changing room when Maurice buttonholed me.

“Why do you want the lend of an evening dress?”

His curiosity was forgivable, but I had to think on my feet to come up with a plausible answer. “Oh, there’s a cocktail party I’ve been invited to. It’s with people connected with my college. I ought to go but I’ve nothing to wear, so I shall have to decline.”

“Stop a moment. I may be able to help you there.”

“Really? It’s nice of you but I don’t see…”

“You want to borrow one of the dresses you modelled today, right. Well, I represent the supplier. You shall go to the ball!”

“Oh, Maurice” I gushed. “Thank you so much.”

I had to check an impulse to rush over and hug the portly man. Given my settled aversion to him it wasn’t that difficult.

“Well” he chortled. “We’re such good friends, aren’t we? And one good turn deserves another.”

Oh dear! It sounded as if I was going to have to be especially nice to Maurice. What might that entail? Ughh! I shuddered inwardly, but no matter. My country’s need came first!

Dismissing all negative thoughts, I began my search, knowing I was allowed to choose whatever pleased me. So far so good.

What I needed to find was something far raunchier than anything I would normally have in my wardrobe. Disappointingly, there had been nothing of that nature included in the shoot, but occupying the same rail as Maurice’s client’s collection, presumably from another photo session, had been some more exotic items of clothing. Among some scanty pieces of lingerie there hung a little frock in a glittery material. It caught my eye as perhaps the very thing.

Accordingly, when I selected as possibles a couple of Maurice’s dresses hanging next to it, I somehow managed to retrieve that one as well. With it wrapped in the folds of the other two, I retired to the changing area with my bundle, congratulating myself on my sleight of hand.

The ill-gotten fruits of my guile turned out to be a strappy little dress which featured a revealing sweetheart neckline, which could be made just decent by the addition of a sheer bolero-style shrug. The dress was very skimpy but the material was stretchy so I found I could squeeze myself into it without too much trouble.

Checking in the mirror, it would have been an understatement of the first magnitude to say that my image was eye-catching. The skirt was well above my knee, very short for those days before the mini skirt had hit the fashion scene. Furthermore, the tightness of the fabric emphasised how well my boobs and butt had developed over the preceding years. The impact of the former could be lessened by covering up with the gauzy shrug, but the overall effect of the ensemble remained electrifying.

I tried removing the shrug and stared at my reflection again. Stunning! I was unsure whether I had the nerve to carry off such a look as this. I reminded myself that Guy had criticised my earlier appearance as too demure. Well, my new outfit definitely could not be termed ‘nice’! One of my problems might just have been solved.

I revolved slowly before the glass, lost in thought, trying to imagine what was to take place at the club that evening. It was fruitless. There were too many unknowns ahead of me and I would just have to play it by ear, yet again. I had just reached that unsatisfactory conclusion and decided that there was no point in cudgelling my brains any further when my reverie was interrupted.

“You can’t dress like that! There’s gotta be a law!” Maurice’s jocund voice abruptly broke in upon my consciousness. He had entered unheralded, once again.

Starting at the sound I backed away, warily. I half-expected him to make his usual move towards me and the last thing I wanted was to be manhandled in my half-clad condition. Fortunately, the unwelcoming expression on my face served as a sufficient deterrent. The fellow raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Maurice!” I reproved. “Don’t you ever knock?”

“Sorry, but you’ve been in here ages” he excused. “What in heaven are you wearing? I thought you were going to borrow one of my client’s dresses.”

With an effort I recovered my poise. I adopted a matter-of-fact tone. “Oh, this one somehow got muddled up with the others and I just had to try it. Actually, you’re right. This dress is quite unwearable."

“Quite!” he agreed.

"Did you want something?”

“My dear, I have a favour to ask. I was hoping that you might get me an invitation to tonight’s party. As it happens, I’m free all evening.”

I resorted to a well-worn feminine device. “Sadly, I’ve decided to give it a miss. I can tell I’ve a headache coming on, a bad one. Thanks for the offer of the clothes, all the same.”

I grabbed the door and firmly hustled the man out of the room. “I need to change back now, if you will excuse me. Thanks.”

He allowed me to shepherd him out like a lamb, while I silently congratulated myself on my resourcefulness. To smuggle the ‘borrowed’ dress out, I put on my own clothes over the top of it, resolving to return the thing surreptitiously on my next visit. I left the studio feeling smug. My encounter with my over-inquisitive admirer had had an unexpected benefit. It had provided sufficient confirmation that I was certain to be the centre of attention!

My preparations for the coming evening were made with meticulous care and once complete, my mind revolved over my main problem. I had no clue what I was aiming to achieve. Ad-libbing my way through would require me to be ready for anything and while I would like to have believed that I was, actually I felt more than usual like the dippy featherbrain which most folks deemed me to be. Trying to count my blessings, one thing in my favour was that I need not be constrained as to time. There was no photoshoot the following day and so I could stay at the club as late as I wanted. That was the only plus that I could see.

Somewhat self-conscious in my immodest attire I arrived at the bar quite early. I positioned myself at the end of the counter nearest the fateful door which led to that back room, a place of mystery whose secrets I intended to lay bare. The hostess I’d chatted to the previous night came over to me straightaway. Answering to the name Irene, she greeted me as her long-lost bosom-buddy and before long we were deep in conversation. Within twenty minutes I was privy to the intimate details of her love life, which was complex and extensive. It was also generally sad. All her affairs had apparently ended unhappily. Impulsively I reached across the counter and took her hand. Our eyes met, and I could tell we had clicked. A new friend.

The girl cut an interestingly tragic figure and had lots to tell. Had I been about to base a novel on her life-story, the subject matter would have filled several volumes. I really felt for her, but also I had an ulterior motive for listening. The role of confidante provided me with the perfect post of observation of the whole room and I took full advantage. Customers came and customers went, mostly unaccompanied men. I guessed that the majority were seeking the sort of female companionship that the gaggle of floosies at the other end of the bar could provide. In passing, one or two showed an interest in myself and even made to start up a conversation, but I was able to avoid making any new conquests. I merely broke off the absorbing tête-à-tête in which Irene and I were engaged momentarily to deliver a cursory smile before returning all my attentiveness to her.

Following the ins and outs of Irene’s history was mentally quite taxing and more than once I felt my eyes beginning to glaze over. My attention was completely diverted when Carson made his appearance. He seated himself at the other end of the counter and began chatting to the other waitress and her satellites. The guy was dressed in a business suit as if he had just left his place of work, which I guessed he probably had. I noted that he had brought with him a slim valise which never left his side. I turned my barstool so that while engaged in conversation with my troubled friend, the edge of my field of vision included him. Congratulating myself on my arrangement I reckoned I had hit on the ideal way of keeping track of any developments without appearing to do so.

Later in the evening Nick briefly appeared from his lair but then retreated there again. He didn’t take any notice my presence. I tried to catch his eye as he passed me, to no avail. So much for my daring décolleté and revealing skirt! I tried to stop myself from glancing at that enigmatic door too often but in the end Irene noticed what I was about and broke off from recounting the demerits of her last lover but two to question me.

“Interested in darling Nick, are we?” she murmured slyly. “I don’t blame you, honey. He’s quite an eyeful!”

I hazarded a guess. “Am I right to wonder whether you have history there?”

Irene responded with an arch look.

“Go on. Tell me!” I pressed her.

Her next words confirmed my surmise. Nick had been her last ex but one! Although there was no-one within earshot at the time, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I was so glad to be out of that relationship. If you are really intent on making a catch you can expect to find that there’s not too much substance when you land it. All blow and no go, if you get my meaning!”

I didn’t have to pretend to look shocked at this revelation.

“Course, if you want a pearl necklace, you can get one of those in seconds flat!”

“You… you don’t say!” I tried, unsuccessfully to expunge the image conjured by these words from my brain.

“I’m serious. But if you don’t mind that, I can give you some insider information. Trust me!”

I trusted her, sort of, but caution was still the watchword. I chanced a small revelation. “I am interested.”

She nodded in triumph. “I guessed as much!”

“Actually, I have an ulterior motive for wanting to know him. I need to get something from him, besides that hunky body, but he mustn’t know. What it is doesn’t belong to him. I can’t say more.”

Irene stared at me for a moment saucer-eyed, before seemingly making her mind up. Then “You’re a strange one, but I’m your girl. I’d do anything to score off that useless two-timing skunk. If I didn’t need this job, I’d have done it long ago.”

At this point my attention was caught by Carson. He disentangled himself from the young woman who had been draping herself across his body and walked over to the all-important door and entered. Five minutes or so later he re-emerged still carrying his valise which appeared to be just as bulky as before. The contents had apparently not been left with Nick, therefore, or not all of them.

“Sorry” I addressed Irene again “but I need to make a move in Nick’s direction. I’m not from around here and I’m running short of time.”

“You have got it bad. So… what do you want from me?”

“Well… ideally, I need to get Nick on his own, somewhere quieter than here.” I gestured toward the busy barroom which had been filling up as the night progressed.

“That’s no problem. Let me show you something.”

She led the way across the bar, away from where Carson and the group of girls were chattering, to an arched alcove screened by a baize curtain. I hadn’t noticed what a trim figure my new friend had but couldn’t fail to do so now. The graceful sway of her hips, accentuated by her tight black dress, was mesmeric. I found it hard not to focus on their movement and when she paused in the archway and turned, the knowing glint in her eye hinted at an awareness of what had been passing though my thoughts. Drawing the drape aside revealed a felt-lined door and she ushered me inside. “We reserve this for our most exclusive clientele” she grinned. “It’s our salon for rest and relaxation.”

The interior décor was plush, with heavy velvet curtains dividing the space into a series of booths, each of which was labelled with a number in ornate script. All sound seemed to be muffled in that space. From a table by the door, the girl selected a token adorned with the number 5.

“This is the most discreet one, in my view.” She spoke softly. “It would normally cost plenty but as it’s all in a good cause…” she handed it to me with a meaning smile. “Come.” She took my hand and led me to the farthest end of the room where she held the curtain of the booth aside for me to enter. Before me was a couch festooned with drapes and cushions. “Try this one for size.”

I went over and seated myself gingerly among the cushions.

Irene grinned mischievously. “No! That’s no good. Own the thing! Take off that shrug and recline. Go on. Luxuriate!”

I obeyed, to be greeted with suppressed giggle. “Seductive! You know, I could fancy you myself, seeing you like that. Nick won’t stand a chance”

For an instant her face clouded. “That’s odd. I’ve never been turned on by another girl, but somehow, it’s different with you.” She shook herself as if to get rid of an unwelcome thought, then laughed again. “Why am I telling you all this?”

I didn’t know how to reply to defuse the tension in the air. I found myself colouring up. The truth was I found myself reciprocating the attraction. That would not do. I was a married… person, for heaven’s sake! I tried hard to think of Rachel, with some success. Self-consciously putting my little shrug back on, I got up to leave.

Irene drew the curtain shut behind us, gave me her sly smile again and walked ahead of me back to the barroom. Was it my imagination or was the wiggle of those curvy hips of hers more pronounced? It was hard to focus on anything else. Back at the bar the girl gestured to the back room. “Go on. Do it now! As he’s in the office, the door will not be locked. It’s a no-go area the rest of the time, like Fort Knox! Off you go. No time like the present.”

So encouraged, I drew a deep breath and with a parting “Wish me luck” went over to the mysterious doorway and entered. I found myself in a small lobby. There was a door to my right and one straight ahead. On consideration I rejected the former. Although uncertain of the layout of the building I guessed that it led in the general direction of the ‘rest and relaxation’ suite I had just left. The other door was marked ‘Private’. That must be the office, I guessed. Fixing a smile across my features I grasped the handle, turned it and went in.

I’m unsure what I was expecting but once inside I was met with the sight of a very ordinary looking place of business. The object of my quest had his back to me and was part-way through covering over some large freestanding object with a cloth. Hearing me enter, Nick turned and greeted me with a look of annoyance. “What the blazes…?” he exclaimed angrily.

“So, this is where you’re hiding” I cried, in my most inviting tones. “Bad boy! You’ve been ignoring me all evening.”

I ran over and threw my arms around him pressing my body against his muscled torso. I turned my face up to his and pouted. “Oh, Nick! Haven’t you any time for little Jennifer tonight?”

At first the man was unbending. “This is a private room” he admonished severely. “You shouldn’t be in here!”

“Oh honey!” I pressed my bust harder against his chest and felt him relax little by little, then soften. “I just wanted to see you, that’s all.”

Finally, he smiled and bending his head, kissed me.

Rachel had frequently told me that I was a good kisser, and you may believe that I put my all into my efforts now. It wasn’t because I wanted to, nor because I enjoyed it, naturally, but I was prepared to do anything for my country. Okay! Don’t believe me! In a few moments I felt his hand descend onto my butt and my reaction was to press my hips against his crotch. He was getting excited, and so was I, and not a little. We didn’t bother with words. I grabbed his other hand and drug it to where he could massage my chest, which he did, and how. Time seemed to stand still.

Eventually we reached the point where I was sure one of us was about to come, though I couldn’t be sure which. With a huge effort I broke free. “Can we go somewhere a bit more… comfortable... please?”

“Er I guess… What have you in mind?” Nick’s voice sounded thick. He was shaking with emotion. My previously non-existent plan was beginning to take shape.

“Oh, I think you know.” I picked up my purse and dangled the token for booth 5 before his eyes. “I was hoping we would be able to get to know each other a lot better. Come on!”

I turned on my heel and as I did so, glanced around the room. The object Nick had been engaged in hiding caught my eye. It was like a small desk and where the top was imperfectly covered, I glimpsed part of a nameplate which bore the legend ‘….x914’. That stirred a memory. Now where had I seen that logo before?

Taking his hand, I pulled Nick out into the lobby. He paused to lock the door behind him before opening the other one. He held it for me to pass through. We now found ourselves in the ‘rest and relaxation’ suite, and it was satisfying to see that I had been correct in my geographic calculations. I led my companion to the booth and adopting my seductive pose on the couch, stretched out before him. I made sure my purse was to hand, ready for me to take out the phial of narcotic when I needed it. The prospect of my would-be lover powerless before me beckoned. I gave the man what I hoped was an inviting smile. I was ready. First, however, there was an interruption.

“I need another drink. What will you have?” Nick had the self-satisfied air of a man who was about to accomplish at least one of his desires. It was as if he was savouring the moment.

Impatient at the delay I asked for a martini.

“Back in two ticks!”

While he was gone, I reviewed my plan. It seemed flawless. Once my victim was unconscious, it would be simple to relieve him of his keys and then the secrets of the office would be at my mercy. Success seemed inevitable! It would be hard not to gloat when I met up with Guy again.

The minutes ticked by. It seemed to be taking longer than I imagined to get those drinks. I tried to curb my eagerness. Finally, Nick reappeared bearing a tray with not only drinks but other goodies too; a bowl of bonbons and a vase with red roses. “Now, we have everything we need” he grinned triumphantly.

“Oh yes, darling. Perfect!” I enthused.

Placing his tray on a side-table he seated himself next to me and took hold of my hands. His grip was strong, not that I needed to escape, of course. The curtain beside me appeared to move a little. A draught of air, possibly?

Nick’s grip tightened even more.

“Ow! You’re hurting me” I complained.

“Now!” exclaimed my companion and a hand appeared through the drapes, the skin wrinkled by age. It clutched a cloth which gave off a pungent odour. An instant later this was pressed to my face, covering my nose and mouth.

“Noo…” I protested, but my voice was muffled. I tried to hold my breath, to no avail.

Held still in my would-be lover’s grasp, I was helpless to resist. As soon as I’d inhaled whatever substance the rag was soaked in, the room began to swirl. My blood pounded in my ears. Everything went black!

I knew no more.