Chapter 95

It felt so good to get into the pool again. I just relaxed into my own thoughts as I swam. This was how I relaxed the best.

As I turned at the shallow end I thought that I noticed Cilla standing by the pool.

Umm ... Just turned again; Priscilla is standing at the end of the pool.

And she looks miffed. Arms folded and, possibly, tapping her foot. She's frowning too. This doesn't bode well for someone.

And I think that the someone in question is me.

What have I done?

I stood a few feet away from the end of the pool. "Hi Cilla," I said cheerfully.

"Don't you 'Hi' me buster!"

Opps, definitely me in the shit then.

"Oh," I wasn't worried. Not yet anyway. I knew that I could swim a lot faster than Cilla; and if she came into the water I could be at the other end, out and running like a cowardly dog, before she could reach me.

"Why are there two naked women, no, I'll rephrase that, why are there two naked girls waiting for my husband?" Her tone was more of a growl than a human voice.

"Oh good, they've arrived then." Oh dear, I don't think that was the best thing to say.

"Mistress, Priscilla," said Umber, "Those girls are to be Master Nigel's PA and Secretary. Master Nigel can order the girls to wear whatever he wants them to."

"Don't think that you're forgiven Baron!" Cilla said the last word in the tone of voice usually reserved for 'murdering child rapist'; then she stomped back into the Chateau.

I was glad that Sasha wasn't here. She would've ganged up on me just for the fun of it.

Laughter made me turn to the left. "Hi Cecy."

She didn't answer me. It seems that she thought Cilla's visit was too funny or something.

Cecy too left me and went into the Chateau. Laughing all the way.

I looked back at Umber. She was angry, really angry that someone had disrespected her Master.

Then I noticed Aline and Jill running out to the pool. They took up positions either side of Umber. Jill started whispering in Umber's ear.

They seemed to calm her down a little.

"Umber, my precious girl, come here," I called, opening my arms to her.

Umber slipped into the water and pressed herself against me.

"Umber, my own precious girl, Cilla and Cecy, are my friends. I'm sure that it was a shock for Cilla to find to slaves in her rooms, waiting for her husband. And you know that Cecy and I love each other and would never really harm the other."

"This girl knows that my Master. But this girl hurts so much when her Master is treated with anything less than the respect that he deserves. My Master is the very best Master in the world, and this girl is grateful for every day that she lives, and she gives thanks to her Master for those days."

Oh dear. I knew that Umber was grateful for me taking her as my slave. That saved her life. Of course anyone would have feelings of gratitude for that. But I felt that she was beginning to hoist me onto a pedestal, one which I could never live up to. One which I might fall off and break her rather than myself. I think that I'll ask Helen to have a word or two with her. I did so love my precious Umber and I want her to be the best that she can be, whether that's with me or as a freewoman.

"I know, my precious girl. But you must let us free people play with each other. And sometimes that play is a little rude and sometimes it's a little disrespectful. But remember, we still love and respect each other."

"Yes, my Master," she answered in a small voice.

"Now no more or I'll make you go for a bike ride with Katie."

"OH COULD I, PLEASE MASTER?!" Umber looked up pleadingly at me. Twin peaks of her excitement pressed into my chest like nails. Diamond tipped nails.

This is going to be one of those days where I can't say the right thing.

"If you want to," I sighed. "Let me have a word with Elastic or Sandy."

"Oh please Master, please." She was almost, no, she was begging now.

"OK, I'll ask as soon as I can." I assured her.

"Thank you Master. Thank you so much." She dropped her head, "You look after us girls so much. And it's supposed to be we who look after you Master."

I lifted her chin, "No precious girl, in our family we look after each other. That's what makes us so strong."

She smiled at me, tears forming in her eyes. "Oh my Master, whatever did I do to deserve being owned by you?"

"No my precious girl, what did I do to deserve a girl like you?" I corrected.

"Now, let me get out and dried. I need to go to my office and write a letter. You can carry it to Paris for me."

Umber was jumping up and down in excitement and I had to be very careful not to laugh. I didn't want to bruise her, already fragile, ego.

"Thank you Master, thank you so much."

Umber released me and then helped dry me. She and Jill tidied the pool area while I went and wrote a letter to Tristan Bonner. This could actually help in a number of ways.

I hugged Katie and looked over Umber as she stood ready for her ride. Umber had my letter in a pouch slung over her shoulder.

"I love you Katie," I said as she climbed onto her infernal machine. Umber jumped on behind her and then jumped off and ran to me.

"Thank you so much Master." Then she jumped back on and plugged her intercom into the jack on the bike.

Katie pressed the electric starter and the monster roared into life. A tiny flick of her toe put the engine into gear and seconds later we could no longer hear the engine. Not because the bike was so quiet, rather that they were too far away for us to hear the engine screaming its heart out.

"Tell me Baron," said Oscar, who was standing behind me, "Has anyone ever explained the concept of speed limits to that girl?"

"You know, I could handle it when she rode a moped," I replied.

Oscar looked a little puzzled.

"She's my youngest." I explained.

"Ah," he said in understanding. "Motorbikes or boyfriends; either will drive a father to grey hair."

"Yeah, but I could shoot a boyfriend if I didn't like him." I said.

"Shooting tends to get a bit messy, stains the carpets. Drowning though, you could make that look like an accident." He said, obviously understanding my dilemma.

"You have kids?" I asked.

"Two," he answered. "My son has joined the Greens and wants to save the world. My daughter just wants to party; she is driving her mother to drink."

We stood quietly for a few more minutes, fathers thinking about their children. Each understanding the others worries.

I settled into a comfortable desk chair and sipped at my coffee.

"Baron," said Nigel, starting his quarterly report. At least he looked a little better. His suit had been pressed and he wore a crisp, white shirt. His eyes still had bags, and his skin would take a few weeks to return to its old complexion, but it was a start at least.

"You need to start spending money..."

I was a little dazed by the time Nigel had finished his report. My liquid assets, money in the bank, were ludicrous. I had more reserves than some banks ... That's it!!! I went straight back to Nigel.

"Nigel, I want a bank." I said. I must admit I was quite excited.

"A bank..." Nigel repeated.

"Yeap, my own bank." I must have been grinning like an idiot.

"A private bank, commercial, mercantile, or high street?" He asked, leaving his papers on the desk.

"You know my business and personal expenditure, what would you suggest?"

He thought for a few moments, "I would say get Ms Dempsey or Mr. Morton here together with my mother and have them think about it."

"OK, when your bloke gets here make that his first priority."

Nigel smiled, "He's already here and raring to go." Nigel

"So get him started then," I said with a grin. "He's got to get to know the rest of the crew, no time like the present to start."

"Will do Boss," Nigel answered as he continued packing away his notes.

I was pleased. Having my own banking facility would ease raising funds for larger projects. In the short term, of course, I would be spending money; which was what Nigel wanted of course. We both knew that if the Government saw a huge pile of money in a bank doing nothing, then they would want to get their own hands on it, for 'the greater good' of course.

Lunch was quiet. I missed Sasha. She was still in the States working on our 'no win – no fee' ambulance chasers, sorry lawyers.

"Carol, how's the reporter doing?" not having heard anything for some time I was worried about her.

Carol smiled, all of the Coven smiled.

"She's doing wonderfully Boss..."

Cumbria

Sally sat in the cafe waiting for Billy Wells, her contact. Billy was a low level crook. Too stupid to ever get into higher levels of crime he dealt a little grass and drove stolen cars for other criminals.

Billy's main feature though was his memory. He was a walking tape recorder, and he made sure that no one, with the exception of Sally, knew about that. People talked in front of Billy believing him to be harmless. He was, but what he heard and what he knew was going to become very damaging to a lot of people.

Billy entered the cafe and held the door open for a woman pushing a pram. Sally recognised Billy's wife, she didn't know her name though.

As the pair got settled into their chairs their baby started getting a little fractious, a thin weak cry coming from the pram.

Billy's wife stood and leant over the pram, cooing softly at her child. She lifted some blankets from the pram and laid them on the table. As she let go of the blankets Sally felt a heavy weight slide onto her lap. Instinctively she grasped it to prevent it falling onto the floor.

Billy's wife fed the baby its bottle while Billy and Sally talked some small talk. Soon their drinks, and the baby's bottle, were finished and Billy, his wife and baby, left. Sally stayed drinking another coffee, one which she was sure she'd regret later. Sally wondered what was in the pack now in her handbag.

"Bertie," said Sally as she picked up another document from the pile on table, "This stuff is amazing. No, it's dynamite." Sally was really shocked with the revelations in her hands. This was like finding Nixon's missing Watergate tapes. People, some very important people, would spend the rest of their lives in prison if even a quarter of this stuff was true.

Bertie could hardly believe what he was reading too. "Sal, pet," he stared very seriously, "You know that nobody local is going to publish this don't you. According to this even Joe Maxwell, our own paper's owner, is mixed up in all of this." Bertie shook his head, what they had in front of them could be more dangerous for them than all of his times in active war zones. These people killed, and they were the law too. "We're going to have to go and see an old friend of mine. See if he can help."

Sally nodded, then started to gather the papers together. "Bertie help me make copies of all of this and then we'll go see your friend. Where is he, London?"

Bertie nodded, "Yes, Wapping, he's editor in chief of the Daily Standard."

A heavy thud from the front door surprised, and shocked them both. Frightened, they moved away from the door and into the bathroom. They huddled together, both fearing for their lives.

Sounds came from the front door again, muffled grunting, papers being forced through the letterbox and someone swearing quietly. Then another couple more thuds, sounding like a huge number of letters being forced through together.

Then silence.

Sally and Bertie waited for what seemed hours. Both of them were certain that something bad had just happened. Both too frightened to go to the door and see what was there. Both waiting to die.

Finally Bertie pushed Sally into the bath. "Lie here for a while. This is a steel bath and should protect you for a while. I'm going to have a look."

Jerkily Sally nodded her head. Letting go of his hand, was possibly the most difficult thing that she had ever done.

Bertie left the bathroom and the silence enveloped Sally like a cloying blanket.

"SALLY!" Bertie called. "It's OK come and have a look at this."

Shaking like a leaf in a storm, Sally got out of the bath and went through to the front door. There Bertie sat on the floor leafing through a huge pile of documents and letters. Bertie held one up for her to read. In shaky, block letters, Sally read - A FRIEND TOLE US THAT YOU WANTED PROPER DOCUMINTS ABORT THE POLICE AND WHAT THEY DOES. HERE IS WHAT WE NO. IF YOU CAN GET THEM BASTIDS IN CORT THEN WE WILL TESTIFY.

Sally looked at the pile on the floor by the door. There were hundreds of pages there.

"Bertie, we're going to need some help," said Sally.

Bertie nodded. "We are that Sal lass, we are that."

Em and Melissa walked out of the hospital and started crossing the car park to their car. Concealed in the deep shadows behind them a large man watched and waited. When they were away from all effective cover he started moving to intercept them, a cruel smile on his lips and a baseball bat held loosely in his hand.

Before he took two steps he was thrown backwards as a large calibre bullet smashed through his head. He was dead before he hit the ground.

300 yards away the German watched through the scope of his silenced sniper rifle, waiting to see if this man had been alone. 'Oscar was right to have me looking after his women.' The man thought. He stayed there, watching for a further 30 minutes. Em and Melissa were back in their flat by the time he left his post. He would be watching over their flat in the morning.

Chateau Martinè

"Jill, do I have time tomorrow to go over to Karen's factory for a visit?" I asked. "I'll need, maybe three hours there."

Jill opened the diary, "Tomorrow morning, leave here at nine o'clock and return by two p.m., Master?"

"Yes, that should give me enough time to see what's happening there."

Jill started writing in the diary, pulled her phone out and started making a call as she walked away. I returned to my swim. The news from Cumbria was encouraging.

As I swam back to the shallow end I saw Umber waiting for me. She had a thick package in her hand.

"How did your meeting go Umber?" I asked her.

"Master, it went well. Master Bonner is going to call you later this evening, though he told me that he accepted your offer in principle. It would only be minor details that needed to be worked out. He said that his ministers would fall over themselves to get you to spend five billion Euros in France. And he said that Herr Liemann is now Monsieur Liemann, a native of Strasbourg. That will explain his fluency in German and his French accent." Umber held up the package.