Chapter 6

“Sir, what crime? We have no reliable evidence that any crime has been committed, merely my own suppositions. I cannot name the perpetrator, nor his assumed accomplice, only indicate what positon within the company they probably held; probably, I repeat; we know nothing definte, nothing at all.

What can we tell the cops? That we are supposing that a crime was committed some time ago, we are not sure when. And if we did suggest a crime and the cops decided to investigate despite their already high workload, they would remove the gold item from us as potential evidence in an assumed crime. There would be no guarantee that we would ever get it back, as there would be a dispute between us and the liquidators about the object being stolen from them acting for the former owner of the business and therefore the proceeds of crime and so not legally sold to us: that would be their legal argument, which would slow things even more.

Do you want to raise the question of a criminal act, and risk losing possession of the object that we purchased in good faith?”

Emerson was stunned at what his rational question might open up. He back-pedalled as he saw the ramifications that could arise.

“As you say, Jimmy, we have no proof of anything, just the surprise that one object appears to be made of gold. Perhaps it was made by and for the boss, as his private retirement fund when he sold the company, gold being a perennially appreciating asset? There would be no crime in that instance, just an unfortunate loss due to his sudden death, with no-one knowing of his intended plan.”

“Exactly, sir. Without the owner of the company to help us with the facts of the business, we know nothing that is provable. We are merely speculating a backstory for the object. It may be best to leave speculation out of it, and simply absorb this windfall into the Group’s assets.”

Mr Emerson saw his way clear.

“I think we should reluctantly accept that this was a lucky find, an accidental discovery that improves the Group’s asset value. Now, you are officially off sick, so technically your presence was not expected at the hangar. If you were not there, technically, you could not have suggested a crime solution for the presence of that gold crankshaft. The object is now in the possession of Copies, right?”

“Yes, sir. You can discuss it with Frank Davis, but the proposal is to have it assayed by a bullion expert, which should tell us about the fineness of the gold and its value based on the current selling price of gold.

You might decide to add another million to the asset vale of Copies, but move the gold object to the Group’s bank for storage. That way, Copies gets some benefit of its good fortune in its purchasing deal.”

All Emerson would say was, “I’ll look into that with Chairman Yeats, and we can decide on the matter. I don’t think we need bother the Board about this questionable discovery; not until we have more exact information to disclose.”

I gave up on the arguments, and finished the call.

Cherry had joined us by this time, and she told me that to protect themselves from sickness, added to his own tender stomach, that they were going to have a chicken casserole tonight, as that was easily digestible.

“With roast potatoes?” I asked eagerly, but was told, “Boiled small potatoes only. Too mach fat in roast potatoes for your digestion, my lad.”

I knuckled under, noting the common sense in this meal planning. Their own needs due to pregnancy had priority anyway, I agreed mentally. There was nothing wrong with chicken casserole as a filling evening meal.

With me being tired after my unexpected foray to the warehouse, Cherry was despatched to collect Marjory at the end of the work day while Sharl and Charlotte prepared the casserole. They declined to make a sweet tonight, for obvious reasons. The starter was smoked salmon with melon chunks, and was delicious for all tender digestions. As a result, the following casserole portions were produced as small but filling portions.

Once I was replete with dinner, I was accosted by Lily and Flora, eager to remind me of my earlier promises. Lily was the forward one this time.

“You said you would look at making love to us this evening, Jimmy dear, when you put us off this afternoon.”

“I did, didn’t I? Give us all a chance for our meal to settle, then you can take me to bed and love me.”

Lily was quick to take hold of me and kiss me invitingly. “Until later, Jimmy.”

Not to be outdone, Flora came to me and thrust her bare mammaries into my face. “These need your attention as well, lover.”

As they had maintained their normal household policy of ‘naked while indoors’, I immediately latched on to first one nipple then another. There was no milk to suck, for that would take months yet, but her nipples were already sensitive to the touch and she revelled as my tongue teased them.

Then she noticed my locks of hair hanging down to touch her breasts, and reacted.

“Jimmy? When did you last get a haircut?”

“Eh? That’s a sudden change of subject! I don’t know; two or three weeks ago?”

“It might even be four. Your hair is rather long, to my eyes.”

“So? You wanted to be made love to.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t stop you remembering to get your hair trimmed. Will we get our hairdresser to cut your locks when she is here for us girls?”

“She can do men’s hair as well as ladies?”

“Naturally. Haircutting is haircutting. The only difference is the style used.”

“Eh, right. Put me down for a trim when she next comes here. I presume she is coming to the house?”

“That is easiest for her: doing us all at the one visit. You are just an extra for a few minutes – a simple cut; she can cope with that.”

With that settled, I resume my task of loving my younger wives, and we all had a pleasant time for the next hour or so. Then the bedroom door opened and Sharl stuck her head in.

“You girls finished with Jimmy for now?”

They agreed that they were satisfied, so Sharl told them, “In that case, move yourselves to your own room. I have Marjory and the three of us wanting his attention tonight. I know he can’t do us all in a short time, so he gets to fuck me and Cherry, then once we are satisfied, we make way for Charlotte and Marjory once he recovers; then he can have a good night’s rest. We’ll see in the morning if he is fit to go back to work. Today was not encouraging, if you ask me. He did too much.”

As the twins left, Flora murmured, “I hope he will be too exhausted to go to work!”

Her hopes were turned into reality when I got up for breakfast. I was in no fit state to make breakfast for the girls, but my appetite had partially returned and I ate well. My main complaint was tiredness.

“I can’t blame it on you girls, for if I am well, I still find it easy to go to work. Not today though; I am suffering from lassitude, a feeling that my body can’t be bothered with anything other than sitting around getting better. Or lying around in bed, being loved,” he finished.

Sharl asked, concernedly, “Do you feel worse than yesterday, baby?”

“No, I can’t say that. I suspect my trip to the hangar, all the activity there, then traipsing over our new home, all built up to combine into overdoing things. Going to the office today would be stretching my current abilities, so I’ll stay home in accordance with Chairman Yeats’ instructions.”

“Good. I can ring Priscilla and see if she can make time to do our hair today.”

“Priscilla?”

“Oh, yes, you don’t know her; our hairdresser. She usually sends one of her staff to this house, so you possibly saw a different person each time we got you to get your hair cut. Priscilla is the owner of the business. She normally doesn’t do the actual hairdressing as she has to manage the business finances, and there is all that paperwork these days. She fills in for emergencies such as staff illness, or for special customers like ourselves: six heads of hair in one appointment, every couple of weeks. Today it will be seven heads.”

Marjory chipped in, “Will I report to Mr Emerson that Jimmy is still unwell today?”

Sharl decided, “Yes, please do that, Marjory.”

I felt irrelevant in this conversation. As the patient, it seems I was not allowed a say in the matter.

I tried to intrude, “Don’t I get to decide anything?”

Marjory jumped on me. “Not today, my love. This is women’s work, deciding on their husband’s health. Right, Sharl?”

“Right, Marjory!” The pair had clearly established a pecking order, where I came last. I would live with it.

My morning was spent either sitting reading in my armchair, or stuck in front of my computer screen, looking up questions such as the value of gold or the comparative densities of tungsten and gold. Gold always seem to rise in value, which was why it was the prime economic safeguard in a depression. Unlike gold, tungsten was a relatively cheap metal, despite its density being similar to gold. What mattered was rarity, and gold wins, hands down.

As I thought about it, I searched online for the origin of the phrase ‘hands down’, and discovered it came from horse racing, where if a horse was so far ahead in the race that victory was certain, the jockey could slacken the reins, putting his hands down, assured of an easy win, hands down. Fascinating.

The hairdresser, Priscilla, turned up at the door around 3 p.m. and was warmly welcomed by the ladies. Priscilla set up her salon arrangement in the currently empty kitchen where there was adequate space for her to work.

She was about to start with the twins when Sharl came in and Priscilla asked her, “The girls say I have a man’s hair to cut as well, today, Sharlene.”

“Yes. Our husband’s locks are getting rather long, so we decided he should get shorn today.”

Priscilla blinked. “OUR husband, Sharlene?”

Sharl smiled sweetly at her and replied, “Yes, he is our husband, Priscilla. We all wanted to marry the darling man, so we did. Nothing legal about it, but married all the same. We are happy together.”

“Oh.” Priscilla was astonished, but willing to accept what she found. It appeared to be a polygamous marriage, but if the women were happy with it, that was what mattered. She was uncertain about one thing.

“Does your husband not go out to work?”

“Yes. He is a hard-working man, a senior manager in an engineering group, much respected at work. One of our ladies works there as well. She may not be home in time for your excellent expertise today, but she can get her hair done another day. Jimmy is unwell at the moment: some bug or other that he is gradually getting over.”

“Poor soul. I hope he is not infectious.”

“None of us girls picked it up, so it appears not to be transmitted by air or touch. Possibly something he picked up during his work duties, but nothing for you to worry about, Priscilla.”

The hairdressing proceeded as normal, including me being shorn to my wives’ requirement, and Priscilla left well before Marjory was due to be collected from work. None of the ladies wanted their new hair styles disturbed so swiftly, so I was despatched to collect Marjory. I got to the group’s car park in plenty of time, so simply sat there and entertained myself watching the world go by. Vehicles and people moved past on the road outside, and there was a trickle of staff collecting their cars and leaving early. I noticed one car enter the car park and find a vacant space much as I had done, but no-one left the vehicle which appeared to have a full complement of passengers so could not be collecting a member of staff. Odd thing to happen.

Curiously, all the occupants appeared to be men, with no space left for a passenger from the company, and that bothered me as there was no obvious reason for the car’s presence in the company car park. I began to suspect the driver of using our private yard as a handy parking spot that would not be bothered by nosy cops, so I got out my phone and noted down the car number plate and the model of car it appeared to be.

The driver kept looking at his wrist watch. That was another red flag for me, so I dug into my glove compartment and pulled out my digital camera. I wound down the side window and moved my body round to be able to take a photo of the intruding car. Having got that, I engaged the telephoto lens function to get a close-up of the car. Once I had it sharp with a clear view of the offender at the wheel, I took another shot of the intruder.

That should do for evidence of unauthorised parking, I decided. Company security would be pleased to get this.

The driver decided it was time to move and restarted his engine. He then drove the car down a lane between parked vehicles and out through the yard exit. His maneuvering kept him away from me, so I had no more chance of an extra photo for giving to the company security man as evidence of a freeloader.

I cursed to myself. If the freeloader had stayed, I would have been able to alert the Group’s security man and have the intrusive driver given a sharp warning about private car parks.

The time came for the business to close for the day, so I waited while a stream of people exited, got into their cars and left for home. At last Marjory came out, so I started the car and drove it round to where she stood at the door.

“Hi, darling,” she welcomed him. “The girls too busy today?”

I grunted disgustedly, “Too concerned about mussing up their new hair styles,” I told her. “We had the hairdresser in the house this afternoon, but she has left so you missed getting your hair done.”

“That’s okay. I can get my hair done at the shop any time,” she reassured me. “Your own hair looks much tidier. I don’t have a Board meeting to attend for a while, so there is no rush for my hair to be styled.”

I grinned at the thought of a Board meeting. “That is certainly worth repeating, Marjory. You might as well attend all the meetings, so you can check they are using your money sensibly.”

“You don’t mind, Jimmy? You were the official representative, as I recall.”

I stared at her, and challenged, “Marjory, whose money are they playing with?”

“Mine,” she agreed.

“So who best to keep a close eye on the Board?”

“Me, I suppose.”

“Then that is what it should be, my darling girl,” I beamed at her in conclusion.

“Hadn’t we better get under way, Jimmy?” she protested.

I raised my hands to the sky in supplication. “Priorities, priorities!”

That got me a smile.

I moved the car into gear and headed for the exit. As we were about to move out into the road, the wailing of a police siren told us a cruiser was approaching, so I halted and waited. The noisy car shot past, heading who knows where. I was about to move again when another police car followed the first, going as fast in the same direction.

“Think it is safe to move out now?” I questioned Marjory, who smiled at my antics.

“I think we can try, dear,” she replied.

This time I was able to get on to the road safely and we set off for home. Every so often they were delayed by a cop car seeking priority in getting somewhere important. Marjory commented, “It appears that there is some major crime in progress, Jimmy.”

I replied wryly, “I think the crime was completed some time ago. This is the usual demonstration of the ‘headless chicken’ dance, meant to display to the public how competent our public guardians are. It usually means they don’t know where the criminals went, so they are covering all bases. If they knew which way the miscreants went, they would concentrate their assets on that route; trying to ‘cut them off at the pass’!”

“You must have watched every B western, darling,” Marjory surmised.

“Enough to know the routine movie phrases, Marjory.”

“Do you think the radio news will tell us anything?”

“We can try,” I said, switching on the car radio. It was set to a music station, so I moved the dial, trying to get a news station. I finally succeeded, and was told that police forces were chasing a gang after a daring jewelry heist in the city centre. The radio said, “The gang walked into the store, and the leader walked up to the assistant at the counter with a gun in his hand, saying, “Get down on the floor, girl. Everyone else, do the same.”

As he spoke, two other gang members inserted a steel column in the doorway to stop the vertical security shutter from dropping, and the rest of the gang smashed every display case in sight. They grabbed everything valuable – jewelry, watches, rings and threw them into burlap bags they carried. They made no attempt to get at the vault. They were all about speed.

In two minutes the attack was over and they walked out with their loot. Staff report that the men were all wearing lifelike masks with large eyeholes to hide their identity from cameras.

They escaped in a family Ford car, described as a dark gray sedan. The staff who got up in time to look had only a glimpse of the car and said it was moving off at a normal speed, not racing away. The manager told our reporter, “They acted as if they didn’t have a care in the world and in many ways that was true, for within moments they were part of the normal traffic stream, unnoticed.