The Golden Room

With his head again between her thighs, his tongue circled her vaginal lips. Then he began to kiss her.

Her body started, and she sat up halfway. 'Hey, Doctor, I didn't know you did that.'

'I never do. But you're something special. I can't resist. Do you object?'

'Not especially, except Mi

'Didn't she say you could see me?' he asked, looking up at her.

'Yes, of course.'

'Didn't she say I could treat you?'

'Yes, but-'

'I am treating you, Greta. Lie back and cooperate.'

Greta exhaled. She lay back and gave up all resistance. 'Whatever… whatever you say, Doctor.'

'I say let's enjoy ourselves.'

He bent down once more, easing his head between her thighs, until he could kiss her labia again, and then extended his tongue and inserted it inside her vagina.

She was moist, and her buttocks were rotating.

After a few minutes, he thought she'd had an orgasm, but he wasn't sure and he didn't care.

He pulled back slightly, clambered to his feet, and stood between her legs, unbuttoning his trousers.

'Sit up, Greta,' he commanded. 'Come here.'

He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her head down to his distended penis. 'It's fellatio time, darling.'

'It's what?'

'Time to do unto others as you would have done to you. It's time to suck, Greta.'

Her mouth closed over him and her tongue and lips slid expertly over his penis. He trembled with frenzy. She was good, very good, very, very good. Staring down at the top of her head, the exposed back of her neck, he realized how many men she must have done this to, and he was excited by one thing – a desire to sever her head from her body, to dismember her, so that she could do this to no one ever again.

He felt he was coming apart, and then he did, erupting and groaning and groaning.

Later, he patted her cheek. 'You were magnificent, Greta, better than any woman I have ever known.'

'Really? Well, you weren't half bad yourself.'

Holmes dropped the speculum in his bag. 'Then maybe we belong together.'

'What are you saying?'

'I'm saying we seem suited to each other. Why don't you pack your things and move out of here? Move in with me.'

Greta hesitated. 'I'd love to, but what will Mi

'They'll never know. Move in with me tomorrow. We can live together, and if it works out as I think it will, we can get married. No more of that Everleigh drudgery for you. Will you?'

'Will I!' Greta exclaimed, falling upon Holmes with a hug, and kissing him again and again. 'I'll be there.'

Holmes was scribbling on a piece of paper. 'Here's my address. Any time from noon on tomorrow.'

'I'll be there. I'm so happy.'

'You won't regret it, darling. I'll have a real treat in store for you. I guarantee you one thing. You'll find peace for the first time in your life.'

It was not until just before noon that Mi

The word of this had come from Edmund, who had routinely checked the scattered whereabouts of the Everleigh girls and reported to Mi

This morning he had reported that Greta was missing from the Tremont House Hotel. Edmund had learned that less than an hour before his phone inquiry, Greta had checked out of her room with her suitcases, leaving no forwarding address.

News of this defection had thoroughly mystified Mi

What disturbed Mi

customed to losing one girl a year, two at the most. But three leaving without a word in two weeks – it was unheard of. The second factor that concerned Mi

Now Fa

Mi

'Chet, this is Mi

'I'm glad you called. I was pla

Mi

Foley answered immediately. 'I'd hire a private detective agency to trace them.'

'That makes sense,' Mi

'The Pinkerton National Detective Agency, by far.'

'Do you know anything about them, Chet?'

'Not personally. We must have something on file here at the paper.'

'All right,' Mi

'Certainly. Do you want to see me soon?'

'Right away. Soon as you have the information, come right over with it.'

Half an hour later, Foley was seated with Mi

He handed her a folder. 'All we have on the Pinkertons. Some clippings from the Tribune. One from the Observer. An official brochure from their firm. The clippings are repetitious. The brochure should tell you most of what you want to know.'

Mi

The brochure was indeed impressive. It was headed, PINKERTON'S NATIONAL DETECTIVE AGENCY. It had a staring eye as its trademark, and the motto 'We Never Sleep'. The superintendent of the Chicago office was William A. Pinkerton.

Studying the Observer story, Mi

Mi

'Their business is crime,' Foley assured her, 'any kind.'

'I suppose you're right,' said Mi

After speaking to William Pinkerton and securing an immediate appointment, Mi

town to Pinkerton's National Agency, at 193 Fifth Avenue in Chicago 's downtown.

Once inside the building, she was escorted to William Pinkerton's cluttered office. He was a great bear of a man, with his hair slicked down flat and a full moustache. He directed Mi

'I'm Mi

Pinkerton gave a short laugh. 'Who hasn't?' he replied.

'I've run into something that's disturbing me. I think I can use some of your detectives.'