Back upstairs, in the main house, Peter now made his way up the grand marble staircase to the first floor. He was thirty-five, good looking in an intellectual kind of way with brown hair and slate blue eyes. Tanned and fit, Bearing took good care of himself, he did not drink excessively, did not smoke, apart from the occasional cigar and was the product of an excellent education. He had a beautiful family and enough money for several lifetimes but for Peter none of that was enough. He wanted more. Much more.
At the top of the staircase, Peter paused for a moment to listen for the sound of any stray guests who may have escaped his watchful eye but there was only silence. He glanced out of the window, just to double check that the driveway was completely empty and the last of the revellers had actually gone. The only cars still remaining were a Renault Clio and an Aston Martin Vanquish. The Clio belonged to the girl on Peter’s payroll, the Aston to Jonathan Wallace, her companion for the evening.
Peter then carried on up to the second floor and walked along the wide landing to the furthest bedroom. Outside the door he listened again but once more heard nothing. He knocked softly and waited. A moment later the door opened and a scantily clad blonde in stockings and green satin lingerie ushered him in.
On the bed, next to her discarded Vera Wang cocktail dress, lay Jonathan Wallace, lifeless and completely naked.
“I trust he’s only sleeping?” Bearing enquired.
“Like a baby,” said the striking young girl, her voice prim, very English public school. “He’ll be out for hours darling – you could drop the atom bomb and he still wouldn’t wake up.”
Bearing made no reaction. “It all went to plan? No problems?” He asked.
“No, it was easy. I slipped the liquid you gave me into his whisky when he went to the loo and ten minutes later he was dead to the world.”
“Not before—” Peter began.
“Oh, no. He managed that, darling – just – but I seriously doubt he’ll have any memory of it. I certainly won’t let’s put it like that. He collapsed half way through so I just rolled him off and left him where he is.”
“Do we really need to carry on with the rest of it?” The girl asked quietly, “I mean, I’ve done my bit – he won’t remember anything and I know what to say if anyone ever asks.”
“Yes, we do,” Bearing replied firmly. “He’ll need to be totally convinced. To have no doubt about what he’s done. He’ll need to see evidence. You already know that and you’ve been paid very well.”
“Well, yes, I suppose. It’s just a bit frightening, you know. You will be careful won’t you? Like you promised – you won’t hit me too hard – I mean, my face, well it’s the first thing men see – it’s my living darling, my fortune.” She was clearly scared but knew she had entered into a wicked bargain for a very lucrative reward and there was no going back now.
Bearing looked at her. He understood exactly what Jonathan Wallace had seen in her; early twenties, fabulous figure, stunning looks and very upmarket in a really sexy kind of way. When she arrived at the party she could have easily been mistaken for the nubile young daughter of a duke and duchess. Wallace would have had no idea that she was, in reality, a high priced whore.
Peter had paid her enough to keep her in designer lingerie for years. But now she was going to earn it.
Bearing smiled, then picked up Jonathan Wallace’s trousers, which had been discarded on the floor, and slid the soft leather belt from the loops before throwing the trousers back on the ground. He held the belt tightly with his hands about eighteen inches apart and tugged it twice to test its strength, hearing a rewarding whip-like crack in response. It would do very nicely indeed.
Still holding the belt, he walked over to the door and closed it as the girl looked on aghast. “Of course I’ll be careful,” he said, a wicked smile spreading across his face.
Continues tomorrow or download the complete novel here