Twisting the Melody

With gentle hands he slipped her beneath the covers and drew them over her before examining the room, catching up the knife, tucking lash and clamps away in drawers that locked with a tiny key. He drew the door shut behind him and shot the bolt quietly before walking down the hall to the study, where he poured another snifter of cognac and sat before the fire, sipping, staring into the flames and pondering the next lesson.