Destroying Angel (10 page)

‘Come out,’ he called, ‘I’ve got you a coffee.’

‘Thanks, Paul,’ Susan acknowledged him, and picked her way gingerly across the floor.

Berner watched with amusement, grinning at her fastidiousness.

‘Yuck,’ she said as she reached him, ‘that stuff’s revolting.’

‘What’s the fuss? You’ve got wellies on.’

Susan shrugged.

‘You’re not going to find anything,’ Berner continued. ‘Forensic have been over it already, and the Fire Ghost MO is pretty standard. Stone and petrol bomb through a high window at the back; bang, up it goes. No fingerprints, nothing on the security cameras. He obviously stakes the places out first, so old man Gage has got most of the team going through endless security tapes in the hope that he’s stupid enough to have actually gone into an estate. The idea is to look for faces appearing on several of the tapes from different estates, but they won’t find anything. I’d be doing that if I hadn’t asked to look round here.’

‘No trouble getting on the team then?’ Susan asked.

‘Just the opposite.’ Berner grinned as he sipped his coffee. ‘You’ll remember our little bargain, though. Once we’ve looked round, I’ll decide what to do with you.’

‘Here?’ Susan was horrified.

‘Why not?’ he said with a shrug. ‘It’s private enough, with young PC wet-behind-the-ears on guard. I might have you suck him off, actually,’ he chuckled, ‘I reckon he’d blow his fuse in ten seconds flat.’

‘You’re filthy, do you know that?’ Susan retorted, but only succeeded in making Berner laugh all the more.

‘What are you after, then?’ he asked once he’d calmed down, looking around at the mess.

‘A couple of things,’ Susan replied, glad to be back to the real purpose of their meeting. ‘For starters, how come they had a pallet of brandy delivered just before the fire? Wine doesn’t burn, brandy goes like a bomb. Don’t you think that’s a bit suspect?’

‘You’re too suspicious, Susan,’ he answered. ‘They’re a wholesale wine warehouse, supplying mainly restaurants. It’s hardly surprising that they stock brandy. Name me a restaurant that doesn’t sell brandy?’

‘Vegan ones?’ Susan suggested half-heartedly. ‘Point taken, but it still seems odd. Do you know when it was delivered and why it was so close to the office?’

‘No to your first question,’ Berner answered, ‘but presumably at the end of last week. It wouldn’t have been Sunday, but it was near the office because that’s where the deliveries come in and they hadn’t had time to stack it elsewhere.’

‘Maybe it came in on Saturday and was waiting for a warehouseman to stack it during the week.’

‘That sounds likely.’

‘I still don’t like it,’ Susan said, turning to look down the length of the warehouse. Something jarred about the whole situation, but she couldn’t think what it was. Also, if the brandy had been there before Sunday, then the idea that the information she and Paulette had transmitted to Annabella had led to the fire was flawed. Unless the brandy had been there anyway and Annabella and Ruddock had moved it.

‘Who left last on Sunday?’ she asked.

‘I’m not sure. We could ask security,’ Berner suggested.

‘Could you do that?’

Berner nodded and walked away, leaving Susan deep in thought. The situation was becoming increasingly complex; a maze of possibilities in the middle of which her theory was slowly taking shape.

It was impossible to tell if the brandy pallet had been moved to the side office; all that was left of it was a rough square on the floor of a slightly different consistency than its surroundings. There was no shortage of bits of brandy-bottle though, many having been blown clear when the pallet exploded. Some even had intact labels, showing a brand name and an address in Athens. Susan waited until the constable wasn’t looking, chose one from just outside the door, and slipped it into her bag.

When she returned to the warehouse she began to search for readable labels, using a piece of lead piping to poke in the muck. A surprising number had survived, although very few of the bottles were unbroken. There had been several different wines, but all showed the same address in Choray.

Susan was still searching when Berner returned with the information that Ruddock had left some minutes after de Vergy on the Sunday evening. She smiled, her theory almost complete.

‘Are you done?’ he asked.

‘I’m thinking.’

‘Think away.’

‘What are you up to?’ she asked, watching him pick his way over the remains of the office.

‘Oh, just thinking what to do with you. If you’re sure you’re finished here, that is. I wouldn’t want to break your concentration.’

‘Oh, come on Paul,’ Susan pleaded, ‘not here, it’s filthy! If you’re that desperate for it, I’ll come back to your flat for a bit and we can go to bed. Wouldn’t that be nice?’

‘Delightful,’ Berner replied, ‘but not nearly as much fun as what I have in mind.’

‘Paul,’ Susan wheedled, ‘it’s horrid in here. Let’s go to your flat—’

‘Another time,’ he interrupted, thoughtfully picking up the roll of police tape.

‘No, Paul,’ Susan begged, seeing the way his mind was working. ‘Not with the tape – not in here!’

‘Do you remember training?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ Susan sighed, knowing exactly what he meant.

‘Do you remember Collet and that other kid… Spenson, I think he was called.’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you remember them tying you up with tape for a laugh?’

‘Vividly,’ Susan said, not adding that her sole regret at the time had been that they’d stopped at tying her up.

‘It really turned me on,’ Berner mused, looking at the roll in his hand.

‘I’m sure it did. And where do you intend to indulge this perversion?’

‘Here,’ he replied casually.

‘Seriously, Paul, I don’t mind being tied up, if that’s what turns you on, but this place is revolting. Besides, if the constable looks in he can hardly miss us, and bang goes your career. Come on, take me home and you can tie me to the bed.’

‘I sleep on a futon,’ Berner answered. ‘Come on now, and stop whining.’

Susan sighed. ‘Don’t blame me if you get dismissed for whatever the breach of regulations is for putting women in bondage during an investigation.’

Berner sniggered and started across the debris-strewn floor, gesturing for Susan to follow. She obeyed, knowing further complaint was futile, and picked her way from solid piece to solid piece. With her gaze fixed on the hazards under foot, it wasn’t until she had almost reached the remains of the partition wall that she realised Berner had gone into the toilet.

‘Paul, not in there, please!’ she begged, realising his intention. Being tied up amid the filth and stink of the burnt-out warehouse was bad enough, but to have it done in a lavatory was truly disgusting.

‘Come along, Susie,’ Berner chided.

She entered, resigning herself to her fate. After all, it was certainly going to be a humiliating experience, and once things got going she would probably enjoy it, if only she could overcome her distaste at the smell and filth of her surroundings.

Berner pushed her back into one of the cubicles and followed. ‘Take your skirt and blouse off,’ he instructed. ‘It wouldn’t do to get them dirty, now would it? Your bra had better come off too, but not your panties.’

‘Oh, so you’re a panty freak too, are you?’ Susan goaded.

‘I wouldn’t be so cheeky if I were about to be tied up,’ Berner snapped. ‘Come on, get your kit off.’

Susan stripped to her knickers, removing each item carefully so as not to touch the walls or floor and handing them to Berner. He hung them on the hook on the back of the cubicle door. Finally she stood in nothing but white panties and wellington boots. Berner looked at her and nodded thoughtfully.

‘Nice… very nice,’ he remarked. ‘Shapely, but not flabby; plenty of tit. I always did say you had the best body in our year. A shaved pussy, too… I do like that. Give me a spin.’

Susan turned slowly, displaying her panty-clad bottom to him.

‘Have you been spanked?’ he asked. ‘I can see faint marks.’

‘Y-yes,’ Susan stammered, feeling a faint blush colour her cheeks.

‘I always did wonder what pressed your button,’ he said, with a hint of victory in his tone. ‘Now I know. Didn’t it hurt?’

‘Yes… but in a nice sort of way,’ Susan answered meekly, wondering why she felt she had to justify her pleasure in being spanked to him.

‘Hmm, interesting,’ Berner remarked. ‘Hold your hands out, wrists together.’

Susan turned back and did as she was told, acutely aware of her naked breasts as he strapped her wrists together with the blue and white tape.

‘Now kneel on the bog seat,’ he instructed, ‘and rest your hands on the wall.’

Susan flushed with humiliation as she climbed awkwardly onto the lowered lavatory seat and leant against the wall. The pose forced her bottom out, making her panties tighten across her cheeks. It also meant kneeling in the layer of soot which coated the top of the seat. She hung her head as he strapped her wrists on either side of the thick iron pipe that led down from the cistern. She was genuinely helpless, unable to protect herself from him in any way, her position leaving her naked body completely vulnerable.

Her breath started to quicken as he lashed her ankles together and wound the tape around the base of the bowl, making it impossible for her to do more than wriggle her bottom from side to side.

‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’ Berner asked, squeezing her bottom with a possessive familiarity that sent a new tingle of submissive pleasure through her.

‘Y-yes,’ she admitted. He sniggered again.

‘You’ve no idea how cute you look,’ he went on, squeezing her bottom with more and more familiarity, ‘naked except for your wellies and panties.’

He put the tape down, and then started to fondle her breasts, weighing them and rubbing his palms against her nipples.

Susan began to whimper with pleasure as he explored her breasts. Each touch on her nipples sent a little shock through her, her inability to resist adding to the thrill.

‘You do look very sweet,’ he said, letting go of her breasts and standing back a little. ‘Well, I think we’d better have these pretty knickers down now, don’t you?’

Susan moaned as he reached for the waistband of her panties and drew them slowly down over her bum. Her bottom felt fat and prominent, as it always did when her panties where taken down; be it for a good spanking, or in preparation for a long fuck. She instinctively dipped her back.

‘That’s right, stick it out, show me everything,’ he breathed. ‘You’re gorgeous, Susie. I’m not surprised people want to spank you. I’m not really into it, but with a backside like yours, I can see the temptation.’

‘Do it, then,’ Susan moaned as he settled her panties around the tops of her thighs and began to caress her buttocks.’

‘Maybe,’ he said quietly. ‘After all, you’re tied up, so I can spank you when I like, can’t I?’

‘Yes,’ Susan agreed, her voice little more than a whimper.

Berner’s hand moved from the cheeks of her bottom to her thighs, stroking the smooth flesh, squeezing gently as if to test its quality. Susan put her head back and began to moan in earnest as his hand moved between her legs, cupping the mound of her pussy, the heel of his hand grinding directly onto her clitoris. He chuckled softly at her excitement. Her breath was coming fast and hard, the muscles of her midriff, thighs and bottom contracting rhythmically.

He stopped suddenly, leaving her in an agony of desire.

‘Touch me!’ she begged.

‘Uh-uh, we can’t have you coming, not just yet,’ Berner teased.

‘Bastard!’

‘Now, now – such language,’ he chided. ‘Maybe I should beat you, or maybe I should just fuck you quickly and leave you for an hour or two.’

‘No, Paul, have mercy!’ Susan begged. ‘Spank me, please!’

‘That I like to hear,’ he said. ‘Say it again, beg for mercy.’

‘Mercy, please,’ Susan responded. ‘Spank me, fuck me, but don’t leave me. Please, please…!’

‘Nice. You really are getting me quite excited, Susan. I think I will fuck you now.’

‘Go on, then,’ she breathed.

‘Say please.’

‘Please, Paul, fuck me… please.’

‘That’s what I like to hear. You have such a pretty pussy, too, especially from this angle. Your sex-lips pout really sweetly and you’re all wet and ready. I like the shaved look, too.’

Susan strained to peer back over her shoulder. Berner was nursing an erection, his cock spearing up from his open trousers like a flagpole.

‘Please, Paul,’ she begged, sorry that his threat to spank her seemed to have been no more than a tease, but desperate for the feeling of his cock inside her.

He moved closer and she felt hands on her hips. His cock touched her pussy, rubbing in the wet flesh, and then suddenly stabbed inside. Susan grunted and gasped with the shock of his rough penetration, gripping the pipe as he started to fuck her with hard short strokes. His groin thrust rhythmically against the cheeks of her bottom and shoved her forward. Squirming in her bonds, she pleaded for more without a thought for who might hear.