Walking the Dog Page 4

  My other hand kneaded her other breast. She made slow, undulating movements and I switched my hand and mouth from perfect tip to perfect tip. She ground herself against me and I could feel the wetness of her sex against my stomach. The pale light of dawn creeping into the room gave her skin the glow of alabaster but she was warm and soft; so warm, so soft. I reached down and cupped her buttocks, pulling her upwards until I could bury my face in the wild, soft tangle of her cunt. Her scent assailed my senses and I was overcome with a deep longing as I tunnelled with my tongue into her sopping core. She shivered, but it wasn’t cold in that room. She was murmuring half-heard endearments and her hips began a snaking rhythm as I licked and nibbled at her. Her lips were quite pronounced and I sucked at each of them in turn before thrusting my tongue into her once more. She was absolutely dripping now and I found myself swallowing her offerings like a parched desert traveller, coming unexpectedly upon an oasis.

  She moaned and pushed against me, her hands were tangled in my hair and she steered my efforts upwards to her clitoris. I needed no second bidding and fastened onto that sweet button, sucking it gently between my lips and rolling it with the tip of my tongue. Angela moaned and shuddered like a soul in torment and she gripped me tighter, urgent and insistent. It seemed that my entire existence was concentrated into that small area of contact between tongue and clitoris. I felt disembodied, aware only of the miraculous gem I held between my lips. She began to pant and suddenly stiffened, grabbing my head and pulling my mouth against her and I felt a series of thrills rippling through her. I flicked at her frantically, squeezing her buttocks and trying to drag her even closer, if that were possible. She gave a sharp cry and then another. I was licking her like a man possessed and she shuddered again and then a third time.

  “Ah no, stop please,” she moaned at last, “It’s too much, I cannot…” But she did and then collapsed over me, her head resting on the wall above the bed. I brought her back down gently, covering her mound with gentle kisses and stroking her back with my fingertips. At last she sighed and slid down my body. She trapped my erection between her thighs and eased down further until our eyes were level and my prick was stretched along the length of her crotch and nestling between the silky mounds of her buttocks. She had a slightly crazed look in her eyes, unfocussed and wondering. Then she smiled and my heart lurched inside of me. I stared into her incredibly blue eyes. I had the sensation of tumbling into their azure depths.

  Angela started to clench her glutineal muscles and to exert a rhythmic pressure on my cock. I was overwhelmed by her sheer presence; the pulsing sensations she was now transmitting had me gasping for breath. Her smile turned into a wicked grin and with a deft flick of her hips, she engulfed my straining erection and I slid into her. Her eyes went round as we came together and she arched up once more, offering her breasts to my avid mouth and hands. She moved slowly, rocking her hips and giving me intermittent squeezes as she tightened and relaxed her pelvic muscles. I tried to match her rhythm but she wouldn’t have it, urging me to stillness with a hand on my chest and a gentle shake of the head. “My turn now.”

  I confess I just lay back and let her wash over me, as irresistible as the tide. The heat in her loins was incredible and she seemed to be coming again and again. I could feel a succession of feathery, rippling caresses and her eyes were wild. Her mouth and breasts looked swollen, her nipples, bruised and wanton. A faint pink flush suffused the marble of her pale skin. It was the most erotic thing I have ever seen in my life. I couldn’t contain myself any longer and forced myself further into her, thrusting and driving upwards, beyond control or constraint. My orgasm roared through every fibre of my being, expanding, all consuming, utterly, mind-blowingly absolute. She felt me falling into that delicious abyss and matched me, hurling herself repeatedly down onto me with total abandon until we were both completely spent. It was quite some time until either of us could move.

  We lay there for a while, holding each other in perfect silence, wrapped in a cocoon of languorous tranquillity, all of our own. For a short space, there were no monsters waiting to devour us. There was just us; and a new-discovered country called love.

  Chapter Five

  No idyll ever lasts and ours was shorter than most. We were summoned back to the real world by Niall hammering on the door. “Martin, get up! Looks like we’ve got company!” My heart sank and a sick feeling permeated the rosy glow. I rose and dressed as quickly as I could with Angela following suit. About two minutes later we joined the twins in the lounge.

  Liam gestured to us to move to the side of the room. “Our friends are a little quick off the mark,” he said and gave us a humourless smile.

  Niall asked, “How many?” and Liam grunted before replying.

  “Just spotted another one. That makes five out here and three more we’ve clocked round the back. I think we can assume two or three to each side so a round dozen at a guess. Good job they’re amateurs!”

  “Amateurs?” My voice sounded unnaturally loud.

  “Absolute bloody amateurs,” said Niall, “We wouldn’t have spotted pros in this cover.”

  He nodded towards the hedgerows that fronted the cottage and flanked the road on either side.

  Angela spoke. “What are we going to do now?”

  The twins laughed. “Put the fear of Christ Himself into their little black hearts!”

  Niall glanced at Liam. “Everything Ready?

  His brother winked and when Niall nodded, pulled a small black object out of his inside pocket. He saw my quizzical look. “Remote detonator.”

  He pressed a button and the peace of the Berkshire countryside was shattered by a series of loud explosions that seemed to ripple around the house. Angela grabbed me and hung on tight to my arm. It was over in seconds and before my ears had recovered from the shock, I heard men’s voices, panicked and shrill. The local rooks had also been disturbed and their harsh voices added to the general cacophony.

  “Right, grab your things and let’s go,” said Liam, “ I’ll take care of the dogs.”

  Angela and I sprinted back into the bedroom and threw our stuff into our bags. Niall had the door open and shoved us through into the waiting car. Trotsky and Magic seemed to find it all great fun and they were bouncing around in the back as Liam gunned the engine, slammed it into first and we took off like a rocket. The big four-wheel drive rolled alarmingly as we exited the gates and swung onto the road. Angela and I were thrown together in the back seat and we clung on to each other. The dogs complained loudly as they were flung into a heap. I thought I heard a gunshot.

  “That should wake the bloody neighbours!” Niall grinned back at us.

  “What was that stuff?” I said.

  Liam laughed. “Thunderflashes, old son, all sound and fury! We keep a small stock.”

  Thunderflashes are military pyrotechnics, used for exercises. They make an incredible noise but aren’t at all powerful.

  “Scared the crap out of them!”

  I smiled. “Scared the crap out of me, too.”

  We came to a crossroads and Liam turned right and then took an immediate left into a narrow lane. We were barrelling along at well over sixty and I found myself praying there was nothing coming the other way. We seemed to make several turns at random and the next thing I knew, we were driving into Hungerford and heading for the Motorway. To my surprise, we headed back towards to London.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “Plan B, old son. Confusion to our enemies. We’re going to pay Mr Mickey the Mouth Cornell a little visit.”

  “He wasn’t there then, this morning?”

  “Very much doubt it. Wouldn’t have been so easy. Besides, he wouldn’t sully his lilywhite hands. Leaves the rough stuff to the mechanics, he’s the engineer.”

  “Do you know where to find him?”

  “Couple of phone calls was all it took. We have friends in low places.”

  I knew I wouldn’t get any more out them so I settled back for t
he ride. Angela had recovered her equilibrium somewhat and she smiled at me.

  “You are lucky to have such friends,” she said. I nodded my wholehearted agreement.

  Niall turned to us. “We’re the luck ones, Miss Sable. If it wasn’t for Martin, we’d be working for Securicor.”

  I shook my head. “Somehow I don’t think so. I reckon you two could fall into a dung-heap and come up smelling of roses.”

  Niall gave me a withering look. “No money, no business,” he said. “We both know it if you don’t.”

  I waved a hand at him. “That’s what friends are for. Not for getting your arses shot off by a bunch of bloody hoodlums.”

  The twins laughed uproariously. “Martin, we never knew you made a habit of this or we wouldn’t have got involved!”

  “Martin Booth, man of mystery! Seriously, old son, we couldn’t wish for a better way to repay you. This is what we do. And we love it!”

  I knew they were speaking the truth. They were loving every second of it. It was their element. I was scared shitless and they thought it was a huge game. In some ways, they reminded me of Magic. The enthusiasm,

  the irresponsibility, the boundless good nature. God only knows how they stayed out of jail. Oh yes, they were on the side of the Angels, but they raised Hell in the process, wherever they went. I’d hate to be up against them.

  In a little over an hour we were pulling up on a quiet street in Bedford Park. It was a typical Sunday morning scene. People washing their cars, children playing football in a small park. The sheer normality of it was hard to take in after the start to the day I’d had. I’d been seduced, surrounded and shot at. This is not your everyday occurrence for a boring tax lawyer. Niall indicated a Victorian stucco villa set back a little from the road.

  “That’s our man, lets go spoil his breakfast.”

  Niall didn’t bother ringing the highly polished brass bell. He just kicked the door in. We burst into the house like Gangbusters. I was shocked to notice that the twins were each clutching 9mm Browning automatics. I hadn’t known they were armed but I suppose it was logical, in their world. I tried to shut out all thoughts of what the Bar Council would do to me if any of this ever came out. Handguns are banned in Britain but ironically, easier to get hold of since they became illegal. They have become the accessory of choice for half the street gangs in the inner cities. I salved my conscience with the thought that at least Niall and Liam knew how to use them.

  Mickey Cornell was in his kitchen, a stunned expression on his normally too-smooth face. He seemed rooted to the spot as we crashed in and surrounded him in a moment. Niall and Liam stood each side of his chair. They never threatened him with their weapons but made sure that he saw they were armed. I took a seat beside him and waved Angela into the chair opposite.

  “Mr Smythe! Or should I say, Mr Cornell. I think it’s time you made the acquaintance of Miss Angela Sable. I believe we have a lot to talk about.”

  I may have sounded confident but my heart was racing and my palms were sweaty. I stared at him. Holding eye contact until he looked away. Then I went on.

  “Let’s start with your little farrago concerning Miss Sable’s father. He was never involved in any currency scam, was he? Her Majesty’s Government aren’t trying to help the Russian Federation and, even if they were, your services are no longer required. What was it, Mickey, had your hands in the till?”

  His face contorted with Anger and he made a slight move towards me. One large hand on each shoulder slammed him back into his seat. Niall punched him hard in the kidneys and he screamed in agony and slipped to the floor. The twins hauled him up and threw him back in the chair.

  “Mind your manners, my old lad,” said Liam.

  I continued. “Let me make it easy for you, Cornell. You came to me with some bullshit about Miss Sable’s father because you were desperate to get hold of her. Your associates ransacked her studio looking for something. She doesn’t know what you want and doesn’t have anything that could be of any possible use to you or your Chechen friends. But we would like to know why you have gone to so much trouble.”

  I was guessing his associates were Chechens but he didn’t deny it. He was still gasping with pain but he raised his head and gave me a look of pure hatred.

  “Fuck you, Booth! And fuck your friends!”

  His tirade was cut off by another solid blow to the kidneys.

  “Manners, Mickey! Ladies present.”

  It was Niall this time but the effect was equally devastating for poor Mickey. He lay on the floor, writhing in pain but was given no respite as once more the twins threw him back in the chair. I’m not good with violence but a glance at Liam and Niall told me to let it go. They were deliberate and cold, nothing frenzied or out of control. They seemed to know how to inflict serious pain without inflicting lasting damage. Niall gestured as much with one hand, indicating Cornell and giving me the ‘OK’ sign surreptitiously. I can’t say I liked it but I understood their purpose. The ex-Intelligence man was clearly off balance now so I tried again.

  “Let me make it as plain as I can, Cornell. We have no idea what it is you’re after and we would like to know. All we want from you is to understand what this is all about. Maybe we could even save you a lot of time and effort. Certainly, talking to me is going to save you a world of pain.”

  He seemed to consider this for a minute and then he replied between gritted teeth.

  “Ikons. More particularly, one 13th Century ikon. Three panels, painted on box wood.”

  “Explain, I don’t understand.”

  “The good Colonel ran a security business in St Petersburg after the Soviet Union went tits up. Big business in Russia, now. Anyway, he was hired by some Swiss collector to guard a shipment of Ikons. Let’s just say they weren’t acquired through regular channels. Among the collection was a 13th Century Ikon, almost priceless. If I tell you the Swiss guy paid over $5 million on the black market, you might get an idea. There are only two known to exist and our Swiss chum had one of them. Or rather he didn’t. They were to be brought out hidden in a container through Tallinn. Never made it to the port.

  “I don’t believe in coincidence. The Colonel vanished at the same time. What he didn’t know was that the Swiss was just a front. The real players were the Chechens. They were going to sell in the West to raise money for the cause. Like I told you, the Colonel surfaced in Sweden, regrettably dead. The Ikons are nowhere on the radar. The logical place to look was with his daughters.

  “What got us really very interested was a catalogue item for the auction at Hervey’s; something along the lines of Russian Triptych Ikon on box wood, believed to be 13th Century, the property of a lady.”

  I looked at Angela. She shook her head helplessly. “I know nothing about any of this,” she said. I believed her, so, apparently, did Cornell.

  “We’d more or less decided you weren’t involved but then, yesterday, you took off. That got us thinking again. Look, Booth, I don’t call the shots here; I’m just a fixer. I’ll talk to them; tell them you aren’t involved. I spent last week going over Miss Sable’s affairs with a fine-toothed comb. She came up clean. Anyway, as I told them before, it was too obvious. The Colonel was a pro. Also, I don’t think he’d endanger his daughters. Some of the hired muscle isn’t too bright. They put two and two together and make a dozen, provided they take off their socks to help them count that far.

  “I’m sorry about your sister Miss, I wasn’t involved with that at all. I only handle things here in the UK. I made it clear to them that I wouldn’t sanction any violence – would shop the lot of them if they didn’t keep it under control. The Boss said he’d personally shoot anyone of them who stepped out of line, but I think that was just for my benefit. They won’t cross me on my patch, though. I have too many powerful friends. I think I can safely say they’ll listen to me and the dogs will be called off.”

  He was starting to sound too much like his old smooth self for my liking. He wanted to clear his
own yardarm. I knew there was something he wasn’t telling us but at least we had a part of the truth. I was thinking furiously. I gave a quick glance to Liam and Niall and they understood that they were to go along with anything I said.

  “I don’t know how or why you became involved in this, Cornell, but I want your word that our part in this stops here.”

  He nodded agreement. “Done!”

  “Miss Sable and I are returning to Norfolk, to her studio. I’m telling you this so you will know where we are and can see we have nothing to hide. There is just one more thing I’d like to know. “Who was the plain-clothes police officer in Norfolk? Was he really from Special Branch?”

  “I have no idea, but I very much doubt it. I just used Rod Willis’s name to see if I could stir you up. I know how nervous you lawyers get if you think you might be under suspicion.”

  “Then how did you know it was me that called police?”

  “Oh that! Easy, old boy. My associate noted your car number and I simply called in a favour from the boys in blue. You’re not a hard man to track. By the way, your bank account’s overdrawn.”

  He said this last with a nasty smile, just to remind me that there are no secrets in his murky world. Liam topped him nicely. “”And your account at UBS has been frozen, pending investigation for money laundering.” Cornell gaped like a stranded salmon. Liam smiled sweetly. “No doubt you’ll be able to clear it up in a day or two.” Cornell was sprinting for the telephone as we left.

  Chapter Six