Home > adventure, seduction, sex > 6. Beryl O’Flies – Confidential Investigator

6. Beryl O’Flies – Confidential Investigator

I quickly washed my face and hands. I dressed in a fresh pair of light grey pants, a white T-shirt and a black cashmere sport jacket. I went to the sitting room to wait for Beryl O’Flies. I walked around to peruse the fine art paintings in ornate frames and furniture more elegant than any I’d seen before.

Beryl emerged looking fabulous in an emerald green evening dress with a forest green wrap around her shoulders.

As we descended the curved staircase, Martin the servant appeared below us, ready to show us to Kimberly Rashid-Monterrain’s salon. We followed him across the vast entrance foyer which could have contained an average bungalow. Martin swung open the tall, arched double doors and stepped aside for us to enter. Ms. Rashid-Monterrain stood looking out a window with her back to us as we entered. She turned on her heel and strode quickly to us, her hands outstretched. I took her left hand in both of mine and Beryl had a proper handshake with her.

“I’m very grateful that you have made this long journey to help me,” she said.

“We’ll do what we can, Ms. Rashid-Monterrain,” said Beryl.

“Please, Beryl. I’ll call you Beryl, please call me Kim or Kimberly,” she said. She smiled at me, “You too. Call me Kim, any time at all.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Can you tell us about your suspicions now?”

“My husband, as you know, is… was the famous film director, Alberto de Monterrain. He was being driven to his studio in the Via Veneto when the driver detected a tire losing air and pulled off to the right shoulder of the six-lane AutoRoute. Alberto sat in the car reading his paper. It was still dark at six in the morning. The driver went to the right front tire and prepared to change the wheel for the spare. To get the tools and the spare wheel the driver opened the trunk of the Alpha Romeo sedan. Suddenly, the scene was lit up by the headlights of a large truck that was roaring up the right lane, straight at the parked Alpha Romeo.

The driver leapt back at the last moment before the impact. The truck was large and heavy. Its front bumper was almost level with the Alpha’s rear window. It was going fast, too fast, and when it impacted the Alpha, the car was crumpled and thrown like a child’s tin toy. The truck, unscathed, continued on and disappeared. We don’t know who was driving the truck or why they murdered my husband.”

“We’ll compile a list of questions, Kimberly, and come back to you for details and clarification,” said Beryl.

“That will be fine,” said Kimberly. “We can do that tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’ll see you at dinner at eight. Bianca will come for you. I hope your quarters are comfortable.”

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