MacFarlane Investigates

After about an hour of waiting the doors opened, and a group of students emerged, some alone, some in clusters. I climbed out of the car and started walking towards the building. I saw my target, one of the last of the people coming out, and she was walking by herself, her studying a text book.

'Hi.' I said stopping several feet from her, I didn't want her to feel intimidated. 'Are you Nicola?'

She looked up, startled, 'Yes, who are you?'

'My name is James MacFarlane, I'm a private investigator.' I stepped forward and handed her my ID. 'I'm investigating the disappearance of Carina Hamilton. I was hoping to ask you a few questions.'

'Oh, OK,' She replied handing me my ID back, 'but I don't know how much help I can be, I don't know her very well.'

There was a bench not far from where we were standing, and I led her over to it and invited her to sit.

'I've just come from her home,' I said looking her in the eye. She turned away, clearly nervous about this. 'I found a video on her computer, and-'

I was interrupted by a sob.

'Oh my God. She told me she destroyed it.'

'Look, I'm not here to judge, I just want to find out where she is.'

She smiled weakly at me.

'Well, I really didn't know her well. I don't usually hang out with people like that. She's popular, and I'm not, and I got invited to this party. I was really anxious about it, because there wasn't anybody there that I knew, and I had too much to drink, and one thing led to another. . .'

She trailed off, and looked at her feet.

'I'm not gay, I was drunk, and for once in my life, someone made me feel special.'

'Do you see her often?'

'No. After she told me about the video I was horrified. She wanted to start hanging out more, but like I say, I'm not like that, and I felt uncomfortable.'

'When was this?'

'About two weeks ago maybe? I'm not sure.'

'OK, thank you you've been very helpful.' I reached out and rubbed a conciliatory hand over her shoulder. If I think of anything else I may get in touch is that OK?'

'Yeah that's fine.' She smiled weakly at me again. 'I can't believe she didn't destroy it. I'm such an idiot.'

'For trusting someone? In that case we're all idiots. The file was buried deep in her hard drive and was password protected. I think it was special to her. You've got nothing to be ashamed of.'

I smiled at her, got up and walked away.

On the drive back home I ran over what I'd found out. The girl I was looking for had had a lovers' tiff, about two weeks ago. After a couple of days soul-searching she had decided to get away from it all, and head to the family's holiday home. If this was the case, then why not contact anyone? Surely the family would have thought to check there. I guessed that that had to be my next stop. I phoned Mrs. Hamilton when I got back to my flat, and informed her of my findings, (without the lesbian thing, I was less than specific on the details) and asked where the holiday home was. It turned out it was in the south of France, just along the coast from Toulon. It was a good job this broad has money.

On the Train down, I did some research on my iPhone. The Hamiltons were a wealthy family, having gained their money through several different kinds of business ventures. Among other things, Carina's father had been involved in the oil industry. There were several less than flattering reports on the way he did business on the online news sites I visited, but I always take such stories with a pinch of salt. Sensationalism, that's the news these days. No one tells you facts anymore.

I arrived in the town of Bormes-Les-Mimosas by taxi. I checked into a smart, modern hotel. It was basic, I didn't plan on being here long. I spent the evening walking along the stunning coastline, checking out the area. The Hamilton's place was a little way away from where I was, and I thought it best to start my search tomorrow, as it was by now, getting dark. I thought about hitting the nightlife, but decided against it. I needed a clear head, and anyway, my French was a little rusty.

The next morning, after a delightful breakfast, I headed out to the address Veronica had given me. I didn't have a key this time, so I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do when I got there.

I found the property on a hillside, overlooking the sea. It was one hell of a view, one that was probably worth whatever the Hamiltons had paid for it. I knocked on the door, and it swung open on my second tap.

'Hello?' I called out, 'is anybody home?'

I stepped inside. The hallway was a mess. A table had been knocked over, there was paper everywhere. A broken vase and some dead flowers lay in the corner. I walked through the lower floor, there was no sign of anyone, and more signs of struggle, leading from the entrance, through a living room area, and out onto the pool area out back. A deck chair lay on it's side next to the blue water of the swimming pool. I looked around. There were trees all around, but you could just make out between gaps in the branches, some decking, probably belonging to the next property along. It was worth checking out.

I had a look around the rest of the property. There was a closet full of the kind of clothes teenagers wear in a closet upstairs. It was in a room with another collage of photographs on the wall. Clearly she had been here recently, and the signs of struggle downstairs suggested kidnap, so why no ransom demand? Had something gone wrong? Was she already dead? I was getting ahead of myself. I decided to check next door to see if anyone saw anything.

I approached the next house with trepidation. I wasn't sure my French would be up to much. As I got within a few yards I noticed that there was a sign on the door handle. It read 'we're longing by the pool.' This was good, it meant English speakers lived here. I had a look around and noticed a path leading around the side of the house, I followed it and came to a seven-foot high gate that was slightly ajar. I knocked on it and pushed it open slightly.

'Hello?' I called out, 'Is anyone there?'

'Please, come.' A voice called out. It was female, with a hint of an accent I couldn't quite place. It wasn't French I could tell that much.

I walked into the yard cautiously, and round into a pool area almost identical to the one next door. This one however had a tall, tanned woman in it.

'Hello,' I said taking one step towards her, 'my name is James MacFarlane, and I am a private detective.'

'Oh, you must be here about the commotion last week.' The woman was wearing a blue bikini, which showed off her curves magnificently. Her thick lips were the centrepiece to a beautiful face surrounded by a mass of black curls.

'Maybe. A young woman has gone missing and,'

'Let me guess. You want to know if I have seen anything suspicious.' Her accent was curious. It sounded like that non-specific Bond girl accent they keep churning out.

'Something like that.'

'Well, Mr. James MacFarlane. I have to ask myself, what is my information worth?'

'Pardon?' I was beginning to lose control of the situation.

'Well, I have seen something suspicious. So I have information you want. You come to my home uninvited, and want me to give you something for nothing. This Mr. James MacFarlane, is not how the world works.

'I guess not.' Did she want money? If she did we were both going to be disappointed.

'Well Mr. James MacFarlane, do we have a deal?'

'That depends on what you want.'

'Mmm.' She turned with a smirk on her face and poured a clear drink into a glass, giving me a nice view of her bethonged backside, vaguely covered by a flimsy, see-through sarong.

'Well, Mr. James MacFarlane,' she turned and looked me up and down, 'I have decided. I want your clothes.'

'Excuse me?'

'A simple trade. Your clothes for my information.'

'I don't see-' I was interrupted.

'Please Mr. James MacFarlane it is a simple offer, and it will be my only one. You are not a member of any police force, you cannot make me tell you anything. I am willing to help you, but only for a price.'

This was my only lead. If I didn't get anything here, then the trail would go cold, and I would be a lot of money out of pocket. I didn't have a choice. I began to peel off my shirt.

The woman smiled. 'I'm glad we understand each other.'

I stripped down to my boxers. Each item of clothing I discarded was picked up by my temptress.

'OK, what do you know?'

'Oh Mr. James MacFarlane. I know you haven't given me all of your clothes.'

'What, underwear too?'

'Underwear too.'

I took a deep breath. This had better be worth it. I yanked my pants down, and stepped out of them. I quickly tried to cover myself up.

'Oh, Mr. James MacFarlane, please don't be shy. Or I may have to come over all shy with my conversation, if you know what I mean.'

I forced myself to drop my hands by my side. She walked around me, slowly, in a wide circle.

'Yes,' she said quietly, 'very nice.' She walked over to a sun lounger and sat down. 'Last Saturday I came home from some shopping and saw a black van outside next door's house. A few hours later I heard a commotion from out on their patio. It was very quick, I didn't think much of it at the time.'

'Did you see anyone in the van?'

'No. But I remember the number plate. It was a British van, and I am good with figures.' She smirked at me. Wait there, I'll get a pen.' She got up, and walked inside her home, taking my clothes with her. She returned a few moments later carrying a pen, and my wallet.

'Here is your wallet. I don't want to be accused of stealing.'

'Do you have a piece of paper? I don't have anything for you to write on.'

'Oh yes you do.' She knelt in front of me and grabbed my penis. It began to grow at her touch. She stroked it softly, engorging it to it's full length. She took the lid off her pen, and wrote something on my erection. I had to turn my head to read it.

'OK,' she said standing up, patting my balls lightly. 'We are done here. Thank you Mr. James MacFarlane, it's been,' she looked me up and down, 'entertaining.' She smiled.

'Er, what?'

'Goodbye Mr. James MacFarlane.'

'Can I have my clothes back?'

'Of course not. They are mine now. We traded fair and square. Now get off my property before I call the police.'

Crazy bitch. It was a good couple of miles back to the hotel, and most of that was through town. I had to think rationally. I needed clothes. There was an empty house next door, I could try there. I searched the house from top to bottom, but the only clothes there belonged to a teenage girl, and even if they had suited me, they certainly wouldn't fit. Maybe I could wrap a towel around myself, and walk along the beach front. I could make that work. I'd be just another tourist who'd been for a dip in the ocean. Alas, however there weren't any towels in the house. Not one. How does a house with a freaking swimming pool not have any towels in it. I forced myself to remain calm. Then I had a spark. I rushed into the bedroom, and ripped the sheet off the bed. It was pink, but it would have to do. My makeshift toga got me some odd looks as I walked home, but at least I didn't get arrested.

The number plate, (once I'd given myself another erection so I could read it) was an interesting one. Luckily I had a friend who works for the DVLA, so I got him to look it up for me. The e-mail was waiting for me when I got back to my office the next day. It was a registered government vehicle, the address listed being down in Devon. Curious and curiouser.

I decided to head down straight away, and forgo the check in with the Lady Hamilton. I wasn't in the mood. I got to a small Devonshire town at around ten in the evening, so I checked into a bed and breakfast. I drifted off eventually, my mind racing over the last couple of days. I just couldn't piece it all together. Maybe this address held the key.

The next morning I headed out to the address from the licence plate. It was just an office block in a largeish town a few miles from where I had stayed. There was nothing extraordinary about it, apart from a very large security presence at the entrance. I wasn't getting in there. I was considering giving up when I saw it. The van. It had blacked out windows, and turned off the road and into an underground car park. I hurried back to my car, found a parking space with a clear view of the car park's entrance, and waited. After six hugely boring hours it reappeared, and headed down the road away from me. I started my engine and followed suit. I tried to stay as far away from it as possible without losing sight of it. This wasn't my first tailing job, but it was a rarity, as I didn't lose the vehicle in question. It's measly van engine meant it couldn't really pull away, even from my worn out rust-bucket. It headed out of the town and into the countryside. We wound our way through country lanes until the van pulled into a driveway. It was a long, gravel driveway, leading up to a grand old house. There were no other houses around, but lots of woodland. If you wanted a hideout, this was a damn fine place for it. In the middle of nowhere, with plenty of cover.

I drove past slowly, getting a good look at the layout. There was a large front entrance with two men standing guard outside. They were both armed. OK then, not the front door.

I parked up about a mile away, and headed back on foot, through the woodland. I hung back, found a likely window to go in through, ground floor open, at the rear of the building. I waited. I waited to see if any patrols came past. None did, They clearly weren't expecting visitors. I hopped in through the window, and landed in a large kitchen. It was at this point that my brain decided to ask me what the hell I thought I was doing. I had just broken into what was quite possibly a government building. I could go to prison for a very long time. It was too late now. I had to carry on. I opened the door. There was a staircase to my right, and a hallway leading out in front of me. I saw a door open at the other end, so up the stairs I went. I crept slowly up, and along a hallway, with a few doors on my left, none to my right. Eventually I came to a doorway that was wide open. There was a desk inside, with a laptop sitting on it. I entered slowly. The screensaver was on. I swiped my finger across the mouse pad, and the screen lit up. I read the words,

'To whom it may concern,

We have obtained the package you requested. It was easier than we anticipated, there was no barrier, but the location you gave us was inaccurate,'

There was more, but something thudded into the side of my neck, and I blacked out.

I woke up, dazed, confused, and tied to a chair.

'Who are you? What are you doing here?'

'Wha?' I spluttered, looking up. There was a bright light shining in my face. The rest of the room was black. I couldn't see who was talking to me.

'Who do you work for?'

'I'm self employed. I'm a private detective.' I got a smack in the face.

'Who sent you here?'

'I was hired by a woman to find her daughter.'

'Who?'

'I'm not at liberty to divulge-' I got another smack in the face.

'Who?'

'Veronica Hamilton. She asked me to find her daughter Carina.'

'I don't believe you.' I had figured out the voice was female, but I still couldn't see where she was.

'My ID is in my jacket pocket. Please, just check it out.'

'OK.' The spotlight went out and I sat in darkness for a few seconds. Then all the lights went on. I was sitting in what looked like a library. Books covered the walls, all bound in red or green. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see I was in the company of two women. Both physically fit, one blonde, one brunette. Both wore what looked like business suits, short skirts, open shirts showing plenty of cleavage. I felt my penis stir. It was at this point I realised I was naked. Stark bollock naked hands tied behind my back, in a building and nobody knew where I was. I was deep in the shit.

'Look, I didn't want any trouble, I was just looking for a girl, and-'

'Shut it,' the blonde said, walking over until she was standing right in front of me. She leant down. 'You are going to tell us everything you know.'

'And then what?'

'We'll see.'

The brunette had picked something up. It was my jacket. I was gonna have to stop wearing my best clothes to work. She took my ID out and said to the blonde, 'I'm gonna check this out.' She turned and left the room quietly.

The blonde turned back to me. 'Right then,' she said smiling, 'let's have some fun.' She hitched up her skirt, and sat astride my naked lap. My cock twitched.

'Now, you are going to tell me everything, aren't you?' She smiled sweetly and put her arms around my neck. 'You wouldn't want to disappoint a girl would you?' she pouted, her face inches from mine.

I told her everything. I'm no hero, I wasn't about to protect a woman I barely know.

'And then I woke up here.' I finished weakly. By this point the brunette had returned, still holding my ID.

'Do we believe him?' The blonde asked.

'Well his ID checks out, and we didn't find any gear on him. And as ever your search was almost unnecessarily thorough.'

'Well, what can I say, we always get the cute ones.'

'Yes well, I think he likes you too, judging by the state of his penis.'

'Yeah. I'll finish up here if you want to head on upstairs.'

The brunette nodded, and left the room again. The blonde turned to me taking off her jacket.

'I'm sorry about all this. We just had to make sure you weren't a spy.'

'A spy?'

'Yeah.' She sat on my lap again. 'You see, we have your girl. Here, in this building. We work for MI5. She is to be a witness for the prosecution when we put her father on trial. He is an arms dealer. A drugs smuggler. He is a very, very, dangerous man. So we had to protect her. Keep her safe from Daddy's far-reaching claws.' She was unbuttoning her shirt now. I swallowed hard.

'Right so, France?'

'Yeah, that was us.' She had taken her shirt off now. Her black bra looked expensive. 'I am sorry for this.' She looked down at my throbbing member. 'It's not exactly standard operating procedure, but I find it's effective.'

She reached to her hip and began to unzip her skirt. It ran the full length, all the way down to her knee, and it came off as a long rectangular piece of material, leaving behind a pair of stockings and suspenders.

'I have to insist though,' she whispered, reaching up her back, 'that we keep this between us. We can't have the whole world finding out.'

'Anything you say,' I gulped as the bra came off, revealing two, magnificent, perfectly proportioned breasts to me.

'Perfect.' she pulled my head to her chest, where I kissed her perfect nipples. 'I love a man who can take orders.' With that she slid her panties to one side, and slid easily onto my shaft. She slid her arms around my neck, and held my face close to hers, maintaining eye contact as she bounced up and down, slowly, gently, in control.

After a couple of minutes the brunette came back in, 'I should have known. Can't you just once let the guy put his clothes back on and leave him be?'

My new friend turned to her partner, beaming. 'I just can't help myself.' She stood up, 'OK, then, you give him a go.'

'I thought you'd never ask.'

The brunette strode over and planted a big kiss on the blonde's lips, who responded by undoing the brunette's skirt, and it dropped to the floor. She too, was wearing stockings and suspenders. Her panties hit the floor as well. She lowered herself onto my glistening cock facing away from me, still gazing at her blonde companion, who leant in and kissed her again. She then walked around and kissed me again. She returned and knelt down between my legs. I felt her play with my balls as the brunette bounced up and down on me, more vigorously than her companion.