The Trusted Professions - Chapter 5

No. Not for a long while, at least. Perhaps when I was a child.

Right, right, I had it when I was a kid, too. At the time I thought it was an intuition that maybe what I saw around me wasn?t reality at all, and that throwing myself out of a window would shatter the illusion and I?d see things for what they really were. But I got that feeling a couple of times as an adult, as well. Well, laugh, it?s almost a daily experience in here, the urge to run screaming out the front door, but that?s not quite the same thing!

But I?ve felt it on the outside, as well, this powerful sense that I should just run, that comes out of nowhere. I remember getting it distinctly about an hour before Max came into our office for the first time. And you know, I?ve spent so many hours in here wishing, praying, mentally willing that if only I?d just, just for once in a whole lifetime of suppressing that urge, just listened to it that one time and got the hell out of there, I might have saved so many lives, including my own.

And it?s funny, y?know, I spend so much time concentrating on that one moment, focusing my mind on it, now I kind of wonder if that?s where the urge was coming from- from myself in the future, now, sending back a psychic echo to warn myself, only for me to ignore it.

Maybe that?s why you don?t get that feeling anymore?

Why, because my life turns out perfectly?

Not necessarily. Maybe you?re just killed instantly and never have a chance to send back a message.

Very reassuring. Even if I could, I?d probably just ignore it.

Well if you suddenly up-sticks and run screaming from the room, I?ll try not to take it personally.

Thank you. Will that be required if I were to ask about Max again?

Yeah, sorry about yesterday. That took me by surprise a little. It won?t happen again.

I?m glad to hear that. So?you were saying?

Right, yeah. Phew. Okay.

One second?okay.

So, Max was who we eventually selected to be our honey-trap. She was a domme we recruited through my local dungeon.

Domme?

Uh, dominatrix? Er, woman who ties up guys for money?

Oh! Of course. So your local dungeon would be?

The place I used to go and get tied up at. I?d do that for kicks. That a problem?

Ah, no! No, of course not. Not at all.

I mean, they have a similar programme in here, but it?s not quite the same thing, if you follow me.

Right. Say no more. Please.

So you were?acquainted with Max?

No, I?d seen Max around, although never met her myself, and asked after her.

Why did you ask after her specifically?

I don?t know, actually. I guess she had a look about her?well, for starters, we interviewed several women for the role, from several different sources. Max was about the fifth girl, I think, that we interviewed and you had to be quite cagey when interviewing subjects for a job like that, especially when a celebrity is involved, you can?t just come right out and say: ?We?re looking for someone to bap Saul Colmes.? because their next stop would be Cliff Axford?s office.

Cliff Axford?

Oh, fuck, you haven?t heard of Cliff Axford? Of course you haven?t! Cliff Axford is a ?publicist?, which is code for saying he is the lowest slime-sucking piece of vermit that?s ever existed on this cold green earth. You can?t go two days without reading about him in the papers here. If there?s any case that has anything to do with a celebrity or a footballer, he?s all over it. Particularly rape cases, I mean, if you read an article about a footballer raping a woman, you don?t even have to keep reading to know that Cliff Axford?s name is going to pop up a few lines later.

And frankly, and I know this sounds harsh, but if you?ve been raped, and your next stop is to a publicist, fuck you. I don?t give a shit. I?m real sorry you went through something traumatic, but the moment you try and milk it for a few million quid, you?ve lost every shred of respect from this corner. I can fully understand the desire to turn a horrible experience into a money-making one, I?m just saying that if you?re prepared to do that, and that?s your right, you?re a fucking whore and I don?t give a rat?s ass about you. Okay?

?okay.

Okay, so that was always a danger, I?m sure you can imagine how ?PIs Team Up With Hooker to Cock Top Shock Jock? would look splashed across the dailies. So we had to be extremely careful about where we sourced our potentials from. Honey-trapping is, at a pretty basic level, prostitution, so there was a certain strata of women that we were restricted to, but the problem with whores is that they?re just extremely unreliable, I mean, you definitely can?t trust them. So how do you find someone that could pull off that sort of job, but also be depended on not to turn on us for even more money the moment the opportunity arose? I mean, you can guarantee that if we paid someone a million to pull the job, a publicist like Axford would pay them double for the story rights.

So how did you go about it? I assume you had some contacts you could use to look into it?

Contacts? No, we didn?t have shit. We had the money to afford the technology, but we didn?t have the acumen. Regular dicks looked down on us for thinking we could just bust into the business at that level, and they had a point, I mean, we were floundering around most of the time. We didn?t have a business model, our accounts barely made sense, I mean, we were in a bit of a mess. I think we both made pretty good PIs, for what it was worth, but we only had a few more contacts than your average Joe Blow would have. Not a good thing.

I figured the best thing we could do was break it to the potentials level-by-level, like, slowly close the circle, first see if they would be interested in Honey-trapping, then see if they could keep it confidential, and only then tell them who the subject was. We called a couple of what you might call ?high class? brothels to outline the general requirements to the madam and ask if she had any girls that might be suitable for that line of work. A couple of them turned us down, but the majority seemed familiar with honey-trapping, and presumably took a cut from the final payment for referral. We got sent a few photos, and made a couple of picks, asked some girls to come in for the first level of questioning, which was essentially just us outlining to them what honey-trapping was, and what it would entail, but not really giving any specifics of the case away, or indeed even mentioning that a celebrity might be involved.

Our first day of interviews was a disaster, nobody was suitable, in my eyes. It wasn?t so much that we didn?t feel we could trust them, although that was another major concern, it was just that nobody sprung out at me as being the sort of girl who could seduce Saul Colmes- it was rapidly looking like our plan to entrap him was going to end before it had even started. Me and Jez hit our local, The Rogue Trader, to see if we could figure it out over a few pints.

?What about Honey, she seemed nice.? Jez said, leafing through the headshots for the umpteenth time.

?What, the third girl? She looked okay, I guess.?

?Nice norks.?

?I didn?t notice.? I said, grinning and wiggling my eyebrows. ?Okay, but do you really see her being able to hold Saul?s attention for more than a few minutes? I mean, Jesus, her name is Honey for crying out loud- if Colmes hears that he?s gonna burst out laughing before doing anything else. She barely had a thought in her head.?

?Some guys like that.? His eyes darted left to right, ?So, hey, you know she slipped me her number??

?Honey? Don?t you have her number in that folder there??

?No, I mean, like, her personal cell number. Check it out.? Like a little boy, he showed me a little scrap of paper with a hastily scrawled call me on it.

I recoiled slightly. ?Dude, you?re married. Don?t tell me you??

?No, no, I?ve never broken my vows, Dal. But I gotta tell you, I?m thinking about it.?

?Fuck?s sake man, why??

?Things haven?t been good with Sam, bro. They?ve been really rough. We fight all the time, we?re not even speaking to each other at the moment.?

?Well they say marriage is always toughest in the third year. You?ve gotta put some more effort in, man. What?s the problem??

?Ah, a couple of things. It?s the money thing, really. She virtually demands to pore over the accounts of this place, and just, she just loses it when she sees we?re not breaking even. A day doesn?t go by when she doesn?t remind me of how much I owe to her dad, and then if we don?t spend the night not talking to each other, we spend it screaming at each other. I don?t know how to get around this, man.

?Money?s always a sore point with friends and lovers.? I said redundantly. I really wasn?t sure what to say.

?Easy for you to say,? Jez said into his pint, ?We may be equal partners in the loan, man, but I?m taking the brunt of the interest at home.?

I felt a brief flare of anger that I quickly repressed. I could see he was hurting. ?And I?m real sorry about that man, but I really don?t know what I can do other than try and make this business work. You invited me into this man, and I?ll always appreciate it, but don?t hold it against me now.?

Jez looked at me sadly.

?I?m sorry man. My home-stress is boiling up over all over the place. The other week I came home and Sam was as nice as she?s ever been to me, made me dinner and massaged my feet, and then just as we?re about to start making things interesting, she says she wants a baby with me! I say I didn?t think we were ready until we were clear of the debt, and she fuckin? flips out on me all over again! Fuckin? slapped me right in the face. Jesus.?

?That sounds rough, bro.?

?I haven?t had sex in weeks, it?s driving me up the wall. I swear I?m seriously thinking about calling this number.?

?Can I see that again??

Jez proudly rebrandished the small folded piece of torn foolscap. I snatched it, rubbed it into a tiny ball between both of my hands, popped it into my mouth, chewed twice and swallowed it.

?What the fuck?? Jez yelled as I fended off his grabbing arms.

?Dude,? I said mid-swallow ?I love you to bits and I want you to be happy, but going behind Samantha?s back is not the way to do it, as far as I can see. You start lying to her, and it?ll ruin your fuckin? life. Jesus, how many times have we seen this at work??

?Fuck!? Jez sank his head into his hands, propped on the bar. I put my hand on his shoulder.

?Look?if you?re determined to cheat on your wife, there isn?t much I can do to stop you. All I can say is that I?ve never once seen it lead to anything but hurt for everyone involved. And neither have you. I want you to go home to Samantha, tell her you?re unhappy and that you want to fix things, but you can?t do it without her, and you need her help. Can you do that much??

?Yeah.? Jez mumbled into his hands.

?Great. And if that doesn?t work, maybe, maybe I?ll let you sift through my shit to try and find that number.?

?Screw you, jerk.? Jez said, trying not to laugh.

?Hey man, I thought we?d agreed you were going to try again with Samantha before screwing anyone else? But if you insist, we can go to the toilets or something.?

?Don?t make me kick your ass again.? Now he was laughing. His eyes were still red, but he looked a lot better. It made me feel very powerless to see him so unhappy. I knew I could cheer him up for the moment, but he was the one who had to fix things at home- I certainly didn?t envy him. When I?d agreed to be his best man I?d very seriously considered telling him not to marry Samantha, I just didn?t see them together. But I?d kept my mouth shut, I had to respect that he was in love, and I didn?t want to lose his friendship. Not for the first time, I questioned that decision.

?So?you don?t think Honey is right for the job??

?No, none of them really impressed me?? I said, idly pawing the photos, ??I guess, I mean, everyone we?ve looked at so far is just Gillette-lite, aren?t they? Which may work for our regular honey-traps, but Colmes is a special case. The way I figure it is; we can?t persuade him with just another copy of Gilette. Saul is an intelligent, wealthy, confident man, who knows what he wants and goes after it. He already has the young, buxom nymph; I don?t know that we can just tempt him away with an inferior version of the same, and let?s face it, we?re never going to be able to find or afford someone who can beat Gillette at her own game . The way I read the situation is, we need to provide him with a challenge. Someone smarter than him. Someone who?ll seem like a refreshing sorbet after Gillette. I mean, she can hardly be the world?s most interesting conversationalist. The man may be a political idiot, but he?s a walking brain, and brains need stimulation. That?s how we?re going to get him.?

?Right, right. I see what you?re saying, man. You got anyone in mind??

?Yeah, I think ah, I?ll make some calls, I think I might have seen someone who fits the bill.?

?Cool.?