Recap: Novice private detective Jim Priest investigates a series of break-ins at a stately home dating back over a Century. A series of encounters with dangerous women led him to uncover a trail of corruption involving politicians and a millionaire arms-dealer. He also discovers a secret room at the manor containing strange Indian artefacts and a long lost diary of a Victorian explorer.

D-Day minus 10

I spotted her as soon as I had left the coffee shop where Professor Maurice Dupont had been briefing Sir Humphrey and myself on his slow progress in translating the ancient artefacts that I had uncovered at Bristlingdown Manor [JIMP#13]. The news was disappointing as was my own failure for new leads on the perpetrators of the break-ins at the Manor; and no results meant no paychecks from Sir Humphrey. Luckily the tabloids had paid handsomely for my side of the story behind the airfield raid [JIMP#11] and brought in new business - mainly digging up the dirt for divorce cases, but it paid the bills. Walking across the precinct towards the bookstore opposite, strode a petite woman with a sexy pair of large black nylon clad muscled calves. Even from a distance I knew they were something special. I knew it was wrong but I had to get a closer look. Quickly saying my farewells to Sir Humphrey and the Professor, with another warning to be wary of his Departmental secretary Jean [JPECHO#1] (another small woman with powerful calves), I strode across to the bookstore where the calves had stopped to look in the window. Slender ankles rose from very high heels tapering to two thick solid slabs of muscle jutting out from each leg with a deep cleft between them covered with the sensual sheen of sheer black nylons. On any woman these would have been eye catching, but on a woman standing around 4’8” with heels (at least 4 inch stilettos I was sure) they were mind-boggling. The woman wore a light grey business jacket over which cascaded thick wavy dark brown hair tumbling mid-way down her back. Below this was a matching tight fitting short skirt, which ended well above the knee, with a small pleat at the bottom. As I approached, the woman turned to enter the store, allowing me to note that she was of medium build with a white blouse covering an ample bust; she was both buxom and leggy!

Feeling like a stalker I followed her, moving to an array of new titles giving me the chance to study her as she moved around the store. She was gorgeous, around late 30’s or early 40’s with the slightly dark complexion of a southern Mediterranean complete with sultry smouldering looks. Turning away to avoid eye contact, I pretended to study the books on display in front of me. Suddenly large muscular calves filled my vision as the woman moved to the same display standing slightly in front of me. I could do nothing but gawp and fight the urge to reach down and touch them! After a few minutes browsing, she turned to look directly at me, one eyebrow slightly arched and her brown eyes sparkling mischievously as she gave me a knowing smile. With a flush of embarrassment I realised that I been caught out and had better stop acting like a pervert and head back to my car, which I had parked down a quiet side road at a nearby business park.

A few minutes later, I was walking up the pedestrian bridge to the railway station beyond which was the business park when I noticed the same raven-haired beauty climbing up a set of steps to my side. I’m sorry but my instincts got the better of me. Stopping at the station newsagents until she had walked past, I followed her down the slope that led to the footpath towards some offices. I was mesmerised by the way her mighty calves flexed and flowed as she moved ahead of me.

Turning a corner ahead of me into a small park often used by office workers during their lunch break, I lost sight of her behind the hedge that framed the green. Being early morning, the park was empty and for a second I thought I’d lost her until a rich warm voice spoke from behind me, “So you are following me”. I turned around to see the brunette sitting cross-legged on a bench to the side of the entrance. I couldn’t but help notice how her short skirt had ridden up revealing plenty of strong thigh encased in sheer nylon and the massive meat flaring from her slender ankles. She noticed my attention, “Or is it these you are following?” she purred with a wicked smile running her hands over the thick muscle as she bounced it on top of her knee. “I, ... I” in my embarrassment I was speechless. Still smiling, she patted the bench to the space on her left “come, sit down. I’d like to talk to you”. She noted my hesitation “No, really” and again patted the bench while giving me a warm inviting smile.

Flustered I sat down next to her. Smiling she extended her hand which I shook. “My name is Adriana,” she purred in a soft sexy voice. “I’m Jim” I replied. Smoothly she brought her legs in front of her, bent at knees until her feet were on the seat. Stroking the outside of her legs while studying me with her head slightly tilted she told me “This is what a lifetime of walking in high heels does to a woman’s legs”. “They are magnificent,” I blurted like a fool. Smiling coyly she said, “Why don’t you take a closer look, Jim?” Swivelling towards me, she tucked one foot against the side of my backside whilst raising her outermost leg bringing a beefy calve right in front of my face. “Feel it Jim, caress it, that’s what you want isn’t?” she purred “it’s okay go ahead”. It’s not everyday I get a beautiful woman inviting me to touch her legs. I know what you’re thinking, I should have seen it coming but I was too absorbed feeling how firm and large that muscle was and admiring the sharp deep ridge that separated it from the rest of her lower leg to notice that she had brought her other leg up behind my back. Suddenly the trap was sprung and I found one big slab of meat crushing my throat while the other compressed the back of my neck. “Grrk” I croaked as rock solid muscle bit deep constricting my airways with shocking power. A solid wall of thick hard flesh swelled against my throat growing so large that my head was being painfully forced up to make way. Choking, feeling light headed and with a real fear that she was going to decapitate me, I desperately tried to prise apart her deadly grip to no avail, everywhere I felt huge unyielding flesh. The next second, I was pulled to my knees on the ground as my sexy assailant swung her legs and body around to face forwards.

Taking advantage of my momentary disorientation, the sexy petite Amazon repositioned her calves both sides of my neck and clamped down. Raising herself with her hands and straightening her body, Adriana squeezed down so hard that black spots danced before my eyes and my ears rang. The massive bulk of her calves pressed against my shoulders levering my head back painfully. Under my hands her thighs turned hard and bulged with power through the silky fabric of her tights as she scissored me ruthlessly. I tried to beg her to stop but couldn’t find my voice; I felt as though I was tuning out, all noise had ceased except my heartbeat. Suddenly the terrible pressure stopped and I knelt there panting trying to catch my breath, my neck held in a firm grip, my hands upon her thighs. Adriana looked amused “Now you know how I deal with unwelcome attention Jim Priest. The last man who tried to feel me up ended in A&E with a cracked skull”. Leaning forward she looked me in the eyes “You will listen very carefully to me Jim Priest”. I realised she was using my surname which I hadn’t told her. She gave me a short squeeze that made me gasp in pain. “Listen to me. Every time I tell you something, I want you to blink both of your eyes twice to acknowledge that you heard it. Understood?” Another short powerful crush - blink blink.

On this piece of paper is a telephone number. She paused, looking as if she expected an answer - blink blink. “Not an English number but French” - blink blink. This number is valid for one day only, this coming Sunday - blink blink. You will call this number on Sunday at precisely 9 o’clock in the morning - blink blink. Under no circumstances will you write this down, understand? -blink blink. The lady you will speak is very important, you will show her respect - blink blink. I don’t know why but you are about to get the answers you’ve been seeking these last months, I hope you can handle the truth. Now I am going to knock you out and leave this in your jacket. A friend of mine will make sure you don’t get mugged while you sleep. Alarmed I took a firm grip on her thighs and tried in vain to release myself. Clearly amused she rewarded me by squeezing tighter. There was nothing I could do; her legs were too strong. The pressure stopped “Oh, one more thing. If I ever catch you following me again I will crush your head so badly that you’ll be drinking your meals through a straw”. Adriana started squeezing again then paused with a wry smile on her lips “On the other hand if you were to ask me out for a nice expensive meal, I might consider it and let you worship my legs when we got back to your place”. With a look of concentration on her sultry face and the swell of her thighs beneath my fingers, she Adriana straightened her body once more and crushed me relentlessly between her calves, shaking me from side to side and raising herself up and down. It was probably only seconds but it felt like several long agonising minutes before I slipped with relief into oblivion.

D-Day minus 9

The Evil One was in a foul mood. Seated around a large antique conference table was her dwindling band of acolytes. Nervously they cast quick glances at the 6 men and 6 woman of the elite death squad standing behind them and at the only door to the room. None of them dared looked in the corner of the large ancient room where in the shadows stood a black robed figure, its face hidden in the depths of a hood. Following the coverage by local media of the raid on John Davidson’s airfield and the unexplained death of the Millionaire arms-dealer and local councillor Reginald Cole [JIMP#11], the National media went into a feeding frenzy each trying to outdo each other as the trail of corruption unravelled to the upper reaches of Government. Scapegoats in high office were made to save others. The balance of power behind the scenes shifted. “Freedom of the Press!” their leader shrieked as she paced back and forth across the top of the room like a caged tiger “by the time I’m finished with them, they will wet themselves before they print anything other than what I tell them!” The hooded figure spoke in a strong feminine voice “You will do nothing that threatens The Plan”. Enraged The Evil One shouts back “I AM The New World Order!” “SILENCE. SIT DOWN!” It was the sort of voice humans were instinctively programmed to obey without question. Angry with herself for complying, the greying woman at the head of the table turned her withering stare at the robed figure only to bite back a retort as she found herself looking into red eyes - blood red with darker red irises and black pupils. Moving slowly from the shadows, the figure pushed back her hood to highlight an elegant mature woman with slightly greying brown hair. Across her face ran a broad red stripe at the level of those disturbing eyes. As she moved, her robe fell open to reveal a black cat suit hugging a powerful athletic figure that even the death squad eyed with caution. Halting near the far end of the table, the woman closed her red eyelids for an extended moment then opened them to reveal normal eyes with brown irises. Speaking softly to the hushed room she told them “There is one who has betrayed us all and brought this upon you”. Nodding towards The Dragon, the deadliest of the squad, she continued “Your plans for power and greed by separating her from The Crown against our wishes has triggered her desire for revenge”. “Her? Surely not?” The Evil One expressed surprise. “In 9 days time, she plans to reveal the truth. She must be stopped”. A look of malice spread across the ageing leader’s face and she turned to address The Dragon “It’s time to claim the prize dear”. The mysterious woman interrupted “No, not her. Send another. We dare not risk enacting any part of The Prophesy”.

D-Day 23:40 BST (GMT+1)

The Princess entered her hotel apartment to freshen up before her meeting with that detective fellow. She didn’t recognise the security man in the corridor, must be new she thought. To her surprise the room was occupied. “Vanessa, what on earth are you doing here at this time of night?” she enquired of the slim brunette in front of her “shouldn’t you be in London being Nanny for the boys?” [Most upper class boys have a Nanny until they are at least well into their 30’s - or so I’ve been told:-)]. “No, it’s my day off. I was just in Paris doing some shopping and thought I’d pop in” the woman answered in husky sophisticated voice with a faint slur. “You’ve been on the Bolly again dear, haven’t you?” the tall blonde asked accusingly “I’ve told you about that”. “It’s my day off” the sultry brunette whined, “Anyway all Sloanes drink Bolly, even you”. D asked, “So what have you been buying dear”. Vanessa replied “white nut crackers just like yours” both women laughed at the in-joke, it’s what the Princess called the very sharp pointed shoes that were all the fashion, after a stalker got past security only for the Princess to stop him with a solid kick in the groin. The sound of agony was terrible, the man wouldn’t stop crying in pain as he rolled around the ground. The report from the hospital said the ball sack had been severely punctured and one testicle ruptured beyond repair.

Vanessa watched as D slipped off her shoes then removed her light blue blouse and selected a high-necked black top from the wardrobe. “Black top” Vanessa murmured. “What?” D queried. “You never guess who I met shopping”. The tall blonde was in no mood for games as she pulled on the top and got ready to remove the matching blue skirt “just get on with it Vanessa, I need to get changed”. “Me!” came a voice from the en-suite bathroom. D spun in horror as the “The Dragon” entered the room. People who knew her called her that, although not to her face, it was an unkind but apt description. A fierce face with piercing grey eyes, prominent nose and a firmly set mouth, framed by a curly short mane of blonde hair. Wrinkles and a slightly flabby neck made her appear much older than her early 50’s. Standing less than 6’ in her heels, she was a good deal shorter than D’s 6’4”. She was dressed in a tight low cut white top which showed off her large breasts and deep cleavage. Over this she wore an open light white jacket with a matching knee length pleated skirt, nylons and heels.

“That top’s a bit young for you dear, don’t you think?” The Princess sneered. “I get no complaints from your husband, darling” the older woman replied “it always makes him rock hard”. D shook her head in disgust “Ex-husband. He’s all yours, you are welcome to him”. “You were never a match for me” the mistress sneered as she stood in front of her former love rival with her hands on her hips. For a second, D’s blue eyes blazed in fury, her mouth tight with anger, and then she regained control “If my ex prefers older women than that’s his lookout. Now if you will excuse me. Vanessa be a dear and get out the grey suit”. “Grey suit” Vanessa murmured. “What?” D queried.