Hannah Bronto - Lovers in paradise

"Miss Marple? Your prisoner?"

"Sure. Why not? She'd like you, I'm sure. She's a very, very passionate woman." I leaned forward, and in a whisper, said: "And, frankly, just between you and I, I really think she's better than most local girls."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, coming as she does from Ganymede, it seems to me that she's just more than a 'little' aroused by our standards of sexual openness. You've got to remember she's from the sticks – and they're still pretty prudish out there. In fact, did you know they don't even have Erotiseries out there yet?"

"No shit?"

"Absolutely true. She told me so herself. I tell you: Valerie Marple is turned on by all our sexual freedoms and openness. It impresses her. It makes her feel very worldly and sophisticated."

"A real hick, huh?"

"Yeah, and all you've got to do to get into her and have the time of your life is take her out later. Take her out on the town. Show her the sights. Maybe take her to an Erotiserie. Believe me, she'll be creaming in her panties and grabbing your cock before you know what's happening to you."

"Do you really think so?"

"Do I think so? I know so. In fact, when I go down and speak to Valerie later, I'll put in a good word for you."

Sergeant Mycroft's face grew serious. He pumped my hand vigorously up and down. "Thanks, Mal. Thanks a lot. I sure do appreciate this. I certainly do."

"Don't mention it."

"And I've gonna call Nancy right away and tell her what you just did for me. This way we both know she'll show her appreciation appropriately on Sunday. I'll have her give you a blow-job you'll never forget."

I pried my hand from his meaty paw. "Hey, enough of this socializing. I'm late enough." I cocked my head at Commissioner Moran's office door. "Tell me, is the second most powerful man in Bos-Wash in?"

Mycroft laughed. The dubious title of "second most powerful man in Bos-Wash" was one that Commissioner Moran had given to himself in a fit of ego mania upon being appointed to his job by the Mayor. A title, which, incidentally, neither Sergeant Mycroft nor I was about to let him forget easily.

"Yeah, he's in there, but he's with somebody. Wait a sec and I'll buzz him for you."

I walked toward the door. "Don't bother. I'll just walk right in, like I usually do. After all these years, I think he expects me to be rude."

I pushed open the opaque plasteel door and strode into the room. Sitting, slumped behind his desk, with the sunlight streaming in over his shoulder from the open window, was Police Commissioner Spencer Mortimer Moran. Across the desk from him was a slender and most attractive young woman with long blonde hair. My intrusion caught her in mid-conversation: "… know. You have his report right there in front of you. Give Auggie a call if you don't…"

"No, no, that's quite all right…" He sat up in his seat, looking as rumpled as always, adjusting his rimless plasteel glasses. "What is the meaning…"

"Auggie?" I echoed incredulously, striding across the room, ignoring Commissioner Moran, smiling my best and most seductive smile at the beautiful blonde. "Who is Auggie?"

Commissioner Moran bristled. He pushed his slipping glasses up with a brisk jerk of his index finger, causing his head to snap back in surprise. "Malachi Browne – what is the meaning of this!" His pale blue eyes glared at me through the lenses of his glasses.

The blonde's mouth opened in surprise, as if she were going to say something, but nothing came out.

"Plain-clothes Detective Browne," Commissioner Moran shouted, pounding his flat, open hand on the top of his desk with such force that the few soft white hairs remaining on his head flew violently up and down, giving him a wild-eyed appearance, "at least you could have had the courtesy of waiting to be introduced!"

"Then, allow me to make the introductions," I said glibly. "My name is Malachi Browne, but you can call me Mal. This somewhat flustered gentleman is…"

"Malachi Browne!"

"Don't believe him; I'm Malachi Browne. Say, you never answered me: who's Auggie?"

The blonde finally found her voice, trembling with indignation though it was. "He may be Auggie to me," she said, bristling visibly, "but to you, he's Doctor…"

"Doctor!" I turned back to Commissioner Moran. He was half out of his seat in frustration, his mouth twitching fitfully. "Are you sick or something, Spens?"

"No, I am not," he said, deliberately, coldly, "but believe me when I say I think I may be ill." He turned to the blonde, smiled apologetically, and in his softest, sweetest voice, said: "If you don't mind, Miss Wolfe, I think I'd like to speak to Mr. Browne in private. Perhaps we can go over this a little later."

"Yes, of course," Miss Wolfe said. "I understand." She rose up from her chair and crossed the room, moving toward the door. "Goodbye, Mr. Malachi Browne!"

I smiled at her. "You never answered my question. Miss Wove… Miss…"

She slammed the door.

"Oh, well," I said philosophically. "You win some, you lose some."

"Sit down, Detective Browne." Commissioner Moran commanded, his anger hardly contained. His hand was trembling as he stroked it through what little hair that remained on his head.

I sat down and smiled.

Commissioner Moran settled himself back in his chair. For a moment he said nothing. He simply sat there, with his elbows on the top of his desk, his fingers laced together in front of his face, the knuckles white. He continued to glare at me from behind his glasses.

"Malachi Browne," he snapped, "if you ever…"

I waved off his anger. "Oh, come on now, Spens. Don't get your balls in an uproar…"

"Don't you tell me how to act! This is my office, and you work for me!"

I stared back at him and frowned. "What's the matte with you, Spens? I've never seen you react like this be fore. Christ, if after all these years you're not used to the way I behave… what's come over you? Are you worried about something?"

He exhaled heavily and shook his head. "You're lucky that you're my best man, Mal, or I never would have put up with you…"

"Something is bothering you. What is it, Spens? Does it have anything to do with Miss Wolfe?"

"In a way… yes." He continued to shake his head staring blankly down at his desk top. "And you're right: something is bothering me. Ha – that's an understatement. It's got me baffled. Everything's in flux. I've got the Mayor on my back, the City Council, and I've got tc worry about the newspapers and television finding out." He sighed mightily. "Ah, Mal, I tell you, sometimes it's just not worth it."

"Jesus Christ, Spencer, are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?" Among his many virtues, the foremost of which was putting up with me, Commissioner Moran had one really bad habit – he was the most oblique, long-minded son-of-a-bitch in the world. If he had his way he would keep me dangling all day long. I said: "What's up, Commissioner? From the way you're reacting, it must be big."

"Big… I'll say it's big. Bigger than anything I've ever had to deal with in all my years as a policeman. That's why I've called you in on this. We've got to solve this, Mal, and solve it fast."

"Solve what? Jesus!"

Looking preoccupied, he removed his glasses and cleaned the lenses absently. "Perhaps I should begin at the beginning," he said, holding the glasses up above him, squinting as he stared through the lenses.

"Bravo!"

"Now, I don't want any interruptions from you," he warned me. "I know how impatient you get with me, but I won't stand for it this time…"

"Jesus, get on with it!"

"See! That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"Oh, my God."

"I'm going to tell this in my own way. Do you understand that? In my own way."

I sighed and nodded.