Hicks.
‘Sorry, Tom. Go ahead.’
‘I’ve got some news on the severed hand found outside your place.’
‘Oh?’
‘I had one of the lads take a picture of it and enlarge it by ten.’
‘And?’
‘You
were
right. It is the number eighty-eight.’
‘Hate to say it, but I told you so.’
‘I also did another re-run on the Kevin Johnson hand, but, although he had plenty of other tats, there was no sign of the number eighty-eight.’
‘Bang goes another of my grand theories of Johnson and the serial killer.’ Karl thought for a second. ‘Could be a cult of some sort. Witchcraft, perhaps?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I doubt very much we have a coven of witches running about Belfast.’
‘You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d witnessed some of the women I went out with years ago.’
‘Can you stop the nonsense, just for a second?’ said Hicks, obviously tiring of Karl’s puerile prattle.
‘Could be bingo aficionados.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Eighty-eight. Two fat ladies. Those bingo fanatics would kill for a thrill.’
‘I’ve got to go.’ Hicks sighed. ‘Talk to you later.’
‘Before you kiss me goodbye, could you do me a really big favour?’
Silence at the other end.
‘Tom? I know you’re there. I can hear your heavy, sexy breathing .’
‘What is it?’ sighed Hicks.
‘I need you to check the records for a Thomas Blake. He’s a missing person, but could be dead.’
Karl could hear Hicks scribbling something.
‘Okay, but that’s you favoured-out for the rest of the month,’ replied Hicks. ‘If I discover anything, I’ll let you know. Give my regards to Naomi.’
Turning the phone off, Karl squeezed in closer to Naomi’s deliciously warm body. She stirred and growled in protest at the coldness of his touch.
‘That dirty old bastard, Hicks, said he wanted to ravage you,’ said Karl, nuzzling her neck while stroking her warm arse. ‘I told him I would kill any man who even dared look at you.’
‘Get your roaming hands off my bum,’ protested Naomi.
He could tell she was smiling, and began pressing harder against her arse. His erection added an exclamation mark between her warm, firm buttocks.
She groaned softly. ‘Anyone ever tell you, you’re a
bad
, man, Mister Kane?’
‘Bad relationships, bad debts and a lot of bad business in between, will do that to a man once good.’ Karl began whispering into her ear.
‘What do you say we stay in bed all day and do nothing but dirty things to each other?’
‘What kind of dirty things, good sir?’
responded Naomi, merrily.
‘Do you want to cane me, Mister Kane?’
‘That can be arranged for later, you naughty girl, but right now I was thinking of that jar of honey in the kitchen. I would just love to put it–’
The mobile phone suddenly screamed again on the bedside table.
Karl ignored it.
The phone stopped ringing.
They both smiled.
It rang again.
‘Shouldn’t you answer that, Sugar Kane?’
whispered Naomi, hoarsely, face slightly flushed. Her hands were cupping his balls, as if weighing them.
‘Answer what? I don’t hear a thing except the sound of someone playing
Tubular Bells
on my globular balls.’
‘Could be important.’
‘What’s more important than having sex with the woman I love?’ murmured Karl, ice-skating his nails over her left breast and nipple.
‘Business!’ said Naomi, swatting his hand away while reaching for the phone. ‘Hello? Oh…yes, one second, please.’ Making a face, Naomi mouthed,
‘Jemma Doyle…’
Taking the phone, Karl said, ‘Hello? Yes, Jemma. No, you didn’t catch me at a bad time.’
Naomi rolled her eyes.
Less than a minute later, Karl clicked the phone off.
‘She has a few more photos of her uncle for me.’
‘Why didn’t you ask for the fees?’
‘I will.’
‘I have to pee,’ stated Naomi huffily, getting out of bed.
‘Be quick, my dearest. I have a rocket for your pocket.’
‘Get stuffed,’ she
‘Sorry, Tom. Go ahead.’
‘I’ve got some news on the severed hand found outside your place.’
‘Oh?’
‘I had one of the lads take a picture of it and enlarge it by ten.’
‘And?’
‘You
were
right. It is the number eighty-eight.’
‘Hate to say it, but I told you so.’
‘I also did another re-run on the Kevin Johnson hand, but, although he had plenty of other tats, there was no sign of the number eighty-eight.’
‘Bang goes another of my grand theories of Johnson and the serial killer.’ Karl thought for a second. ‘Could be a cult of some sort. Witchcraft, perhaps?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I doubt very much we have a coven of witches running about Belfast.’
‘You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d witnessed some of the women I went out with years ago.’
‘Can you stop the nonsense, just for a second?’ said Hicks, obviously tiring of Karl’s puerile prattle.
‘Could be bingo aficionados.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Eighty-eight. Two fat ladies. Those bingo fanatics would kill for a thrill.’
‘I’ve got to go.’ Hicks sighed. ‘Talk to you later.’
‘Before you kiss me goodbye, could you do me a really big favour?’
Silence at the other end.
‘Tom? I know you’re there. I can hear your heavy, sexy breathing .’
‘What is it?’ sighed Hicks.
‘I need you to check the records for a Thomas Blake. He’s a missing person, but could be dead.’
Karl could hear Hicks scribbling something.
‘Okay, but that’s you favoured-out for the rest of the month,’ replied Hicks. ‘If I discover anything, I’ll let you know. Give my regards to Naomi.’
Turning the phone off, Karl squeezed in closer to Naomi’s deliciously warm body. She stirred and growled in protest at the coldness of his touch.
‘That dirty old bastard, Hicks, said he wanted to ravage you,’ said Karl, nuzzling her neck while stroking her warm arse. ‘I told him I would kill any man who even dared look at you.’
‘Get your roaming hands off my bum,’ protested Naomi.
He could tell she was smiling, and began pressing harder against her arse. His erection added an exclamation mark between her warm, firm buttocks.
She groaned softly. ‘Anyone ever tell you, you’re a
bad
, man, Mister Kane?’
‘Bad relationships, bad debts and a lot of bad business in between, will do that to a man once good.’ Karl began whispering into her ear.
‘What do you say we stay in bed all day and do nothing but dirty things to each other?’
‘What kind of dirty things, good sir?’
responded Naomi, merrily.
‘Do you want to cane me, Mister Kane?’
‘That can be arranged for later, you naughty girl, but right now I was thinking of that jar of honey in the kitchen. I would just love to put it–’
The mobile phone suddenly screamed again on the bedside table.
Karl ignored it.
The phone stopped ringing.
They both smiled.
It rang again.
‘Shouldn’t you answer that, Sugar Kane?’
whispered Naomi, hoarsely, face slightly flushed. Her hands were cupping his balls, as if weighing them.
‘Answer what? I don’t hear a thing except the sound of someone playing
Tubular Bells
on my globular balls.’
‘Could be important.’
‘What’s more important than having sex with the woman I love?’ murmured Karl, ice-skating his nails over her left breast and nipple.
‘Business!’ said Naomi, swatting his hand away while reaching for the phone. ‘Hello? Oh…yes, one second, please.’ Making a face, Naomi mouthed,
‘Jemma Doyle…’
Taking the phone, Karl said, ‘Hello? Yes, Jemma. No, you didn’t catch me at a bad time.’
Naomi rolled her eyes.
Less than a minute later, Karl clicked the phone off.
‘She has a few more photos of her uncle for me.’
‘Why didn’t you ask for the fees?’
‘I will.’
‘I have to pee,’ stated Naomi huffily, getting out of bed.
‘Be quick, my dearest. I have a rocket for your pocket.’
‘Get stuffed,’ she
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