Fairfax Bromley Explains

Fairfax Bromley was not at all the type of man Chief Inspector Nugent had expected. Small and dapper he was in his sixties and looked as though he might be a retired military man rather than a person associated with the seamier side of the sex industry. He sported a neat moustache and his greying hair was closely cropped. He wore a dark blue blazer, with what looked like a regimental tie, flannel trousers and highly polished brown brogues.

"I see you describe yourself as a 'Strict Disciplinarian' Mr Bromley" said Nugent, looking with distaste at the discreetly printed card in front of him.

"Yes, that's correct Inspector." It was the well-modulated, clearly enunciated voice of the actor he had once been.

"I assume that describes an occupation rather than a mere inclination? What services do you provide exactly?"

"That depends entirely upon what the client requires."

"Come on Mr Bromley," said Nugent irritably, "what sort of thing?"

"Well, spanking and humiliation are my specialities" he spoke with pride, as if he was a chef presenting his signature dish.

"And your clients are mainly women?" asked Nugent, putting the word 'clients' into verbal inverted commas.

"Exclusively women. Femdom is an entirely different thing."

"Femdom?"

"Yes. You know, dominatrices, BDSM, dungeons and chains. All that kinky stuff."

Bromley spoke as though his own area of expertise was entirely conventional.

"Do you have many clients?" again the pejorative emphasis on the word 'clients'.

"Oh my word yes. You would be amazed, Inspector, how many very respectable ladies can't wait for me to take their knickers down and give 'em a good spanking. They find it difficult to ask their husband's for what they want d'you see."

"Yes, I can understand that."

"I have two women MP's on my books and the wife of an ambassador. She always phones me first thing to make an appointment whenever she is in London" Bromley added proudly.

"How much do you charge?"

"Oh Inspector, that is entirely between my client and myself. Besides, it depends very much upon what services one is asked to perform. Sometimes costumes are required, or special equipment!"

Nugent restrained the desire to enquire "what special equipment" but asked instead, "How did you get into this rather unusual line of work Mr Bromley?"

Bromley seemed quite happy to answer the question. Steepling his fingers he leant back in his chair and began to expound.

"I trained as an actor in the 1950s. After I left RADA my agent got me some work with a film company called Harbinger," Bromley chuckled to himself, "something like Hammer Horror but lower budget," haw, haw, haw, "I specialised in playing nasties: inquisitors, torturers, witch-hunters, that sort of thing. Worked for Harbinger for the best part of twenty years and developed quite a reputation. So much so that I was approached by Volpez, that"s a film company that specialises in heavyish porn: BDSM, humiliation, bondage that sort of thing. "Course they only distributed privately but even so they paid a lot more than Harbinger. Some of their films were shown in private clubs for people with "unusual interests" and it wasn't long before I was being invited to perform live or visit individuals privately in their homes.

"Course when the Internet came along Volpez started making money hand over fist and I became well-known on 'The Scene'. Now I can get as many clients as I like but I prefer to keep it exclusive. Discreet and exclusive, that's my motto."

"And expensive presumably?" chipped in Inspector Horsley, speaking for the first time.

"Let us say that my income is quite adequate for my modest needs," replied Bromley archly.

Nugent, whose only experience of policing vice and pornography had been back in the 1970s, was surprised at the candour with which this man described his activities.

"So you visit people"s homes and, what, tie them up? Spank them?"

"Yes, but only women. I don"t do men, that"s a specialist area as I told you, although of course husbands occasionally like to watch. No BDSM with private clients, that"s a strict rule. I"ll do a bit of restraint -- velvet cuffs, that sort of thing -- but nothing heavy. I supply my own implements: strap, tawse, martinet, paddle, riding crop and so on. And I have a lovely Koboko rattan cane for really naughty girls, quite a collectors piece" he added proudly.

"How do your 'clients' contact you?"

"Usually by email. We make a date and then they send me a scenario describing exactly what they want to happen. It's mainly schoolmasters or strict uncles as far as I'm concerned."

"And Sally Arcus was a client of yours was she?"

The question obviously caught Bromley completely by surprise but he recovered fast. "I can't possibly tell you that Inspector. All my clients expect strict confidentiality."

"But you can tell us if she wasn't, can't you?" interjected Horsley irritably.

"Certainly not! It would be most improper. I am not prepared to confirm or deny."

"You do realise that this is a murder enquiry?" snapped Nugent, his patience exhausted, "Sally Arcus has been murdered. She had six stripes across her backside and we need to know how she got them. We have reason to believe that she was a "client" of yours so it's reasonable to assume that she got them as a result of a visit to you. Are you going to tell us or am I going to have to arrest you for impeding a police investigation?"

Bromley blanched visibly, all the confidence knocked out of him. "All right Chief Inspector, she was a client of mine."

"And when was her last appointment with you?"

Bromley slipped a slim diary out of his breast pocket and referred to it, although Nugent suspected that he already knew the answer.

"Last Thursday."

"And you gave her six strokes of the cane?"

"Eventually, yes."

"What do you mean 'eventually'?"

"Well, the actual caning is only a part of it. She had a schoolgirl fetish. Liked to dress up as a schoolgirl with me as the headmaster. I had to give her a long lecture and then make her take her knickers down and stand in the corner with her skirt up. It was the humiliation that turned her on really. That and the anticipation. The actual caning was only a part of it."

"And then you had sex with her?"

"Good God no, Inspector," Bromley looked genuinely shocked, "I'm a professional disciplinarian, not some kind of ... of male prostitute," he was spluttering with indignation, "I would never dream of having sex with a client!"

"But you did visit Sally Arcus in her home?"

"Yes. She gave me a key so that I could let myself in. She had a lovely little Georgian house in ... well I expect you know where it is. I used to go up to the second floor where she had a workroom -- she didn't want to see me beforehand, it spoilt the illusion for her."

"So what happened then?"

"I put on my gown and mortar board and laid one of my canes on the desk so that she would see it as soon as she came in. There's a bell push on the desk which rings a bell downstairs somewhere. That's how I let her know I was ready for her."

Horsley found it quite difficult not to smirk at the mental picture this revelation conjured up however he reminded himself that this was a murder enquiry and managed to keep a straight face.

"When she knocked at the door," continued Bromley, "I kept her waiting before I said 'come in' and when she was standing in front of my desk I ignored her for a long time while I pretended to be finishing a piece of work. All part of the humiliation process do you see," he added, as if revealing a trade secret.

"Go on."

"Well, I did what she asked for in her email."

"Which was?" insisted Nugent. Despite himself, Horsley was suddenly feeling quite aroused.

"She wanted us to pretend that she had been caught flirting with some boys from the local grammar school and exposing herself to them. I was to give her a severe talking to about her behaviour."

"And then?"

She was wearing a sort of gymslip thing so when I had finished lecturing her I made her pull up the skirt and I fixed it at the back with a safety pin. Then I made her stand in the corner with her knickers down so that she was showing her bottom."

"And you enjoyed that did you?"

Once again Bromley looked indignant. "Certainly not! As I already told you I am a professional. Although," he suddenly looked a little sheepish, "I must say she was certainly very shapely."

"And then you spanked her/"

"Not spanked Inspector, caned. She wanted the senior cane. That can be pretty painful. She made a lot of noise but she never used her safe word."

"Safe word?"

"Yes. We always have a safe word. Some women like to scream and beg for mercy -- it turns them on -- but it doesn't mean they really want me to stop, unless they use the safe word. Then, of course, I stop instantly."

"And what was the 'safe word' in this case?"

Bromley consulted his notebook, although once again Nugent felt sure that he already knew the answer."

"Manga."

"What does that mean?"

"I believe it's a style of drawing used in Japanese comic books."

"I see. And how hard do you hit your clients?"

"Depends on the client. It's my job to know how much a client can take, and how much she actually wants. Some ladies only really want a very light hand-spanking. It's being put over my knee and having their knickers taken down that excites them. At the other end of the scale there are women who want to be restrained and to receive a full scale thrashing. I try to avoid that sort of client if I can but sometimes I have to do it."

Inspector Nugent paused and leant back in his chair. He was somewhat bemused by the demeanour of this seedy little man who seemed unwilling to make any apology for activities which to Nugent -- who had been brought up in a most conventional way -- were both shameful and indecent. He felt reasonably sure that the man himself was not implicated in the murder but it was undeniable that Sally Arcus had been a pretty and popular children's TV presenter whose image as a young woman of high moral character would have been severely damaged should her sexual predilections become public knowledge. Thus she was clearly an obvious target for blackmail. After some thought Nugent decided that he did not have any evidence on which to hold Bromley. He would let him finish his account and then send him on his way, hopefully feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself and his occupation.

"So, what did happen when you had finished delivering this simulated 'punishment'?"

"Nothing 'simulated' about the stripes on her backside Inspector, I gave her six real stingers" replied Bromley in a tone that suggested his professional competence had been questioned.

"Yes, we noticed that in the morgue" commented Nugent dryly. "What happened next Mr Bromley?"

"Miss Arcus always liked to go to her room immediately afterwards. Most of my ladies like to be on their own for a bit after punishment."

"So that they can masturbate you mean?" asked Inspector Horsley, with no attempt at delicacy.

For the first time during the interview Fairfax Bromley blushed. "I really would not like to speculate Inspector, that is a very private matter. I merely packed up my things, took my cheque -- which Miss Arcus had kindly left on the desk for me -- and left by the side door."

"And I take it that was the last time you saw Sally Arcus?"

"It was Inspector."

"Alright Bromley, you can go. But let me just say that I regard you and the world you inhabit as sordid and depraved and if I had my way I'd run you in. Now get out!"

To Nugent's surprise Fairfax Bromley did not scuttle out of the interview room but drew himself up to his full height, quivering with anger.

"That, Chief Inspector, is exactly what I would expect from a small-minded, unimaginative bigot like yourself. I perform a function that is completely legal and entirely consensual. Indeed I do it at the specific behest of my clients. I have brought sexual relief to many women by allowing them to realize their fantasies and the fact that I make a comfortable living by doing so merely indicates that I do my job well and that desires which you think of as 'sordid' are shared by very many people. I have no reason to be ashamed of what I do and I refuse to be made to feel so by petty-minded individuals like yourself. Incidentally, I am extremely sorry that Miss Arcus is dead. If you require any more information I shall be glad to provide it."

So saying he turned on his heel and stalked angrily out of the room.

"Blimey," muttered Nugent, "you'd think he was a bloody psychotherapist!"

"Perhaps he is," said Horsley thoughtfully.