I wanted to contribute to the section's Renaissance with what I hope it is an original take on the genre. I hope you enjoy it.
A Study in Red: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery
Det. Brandy D. House looked at herself at the mirror one last time and thought she looked great: smart, sexy and not too slutty. She was wearing a grey wool blazer, a short grey skirt, a black shirt with one too many buttons unbuttoned, showing her generous cleavage, and high-heeled black shoes. Underneath that, she had opted for her raciest set of underwear: a black thong and a matching lacy bra besides black stockings and garters. Some people would say that it was a bit too much for a Sunday morning brunch, but Brandy House wanted to compensate her date, a handsome doctor, after having to cancel their dinner last night at the eleventh hour. Maybe she was overcompensating in general. She had a cute round face with warm brown eyes and nice long curly brown hair, but she did not consider her very pretty. Likewise, she saw herself as short and a bit chubby, but curvaceous or voluptuous were the word that best described her figure. Despite her undeserved low self-esteem, her round ass and wholesome breasts always attracted a lot of looks at the precinct and everywhere else. She was incredibly smart too, but she felt that, unfortunately, men usually found that intimidating rather than stimulating.
The sound of ‘London Calling’ interrupted Det. House’s train of thought. The unmistakable ringtone associated to her boss, Capt. Jeremy London, made her curse. It was her free day! Besides, she had also been summoned for an extra case last night after finishing her regular shift. Det. House worked homicides, but her talent and ludicrously high clearance rate made her a very valuable ‘commodity’ for her boss, who send her to work cases with other units to earn favours or just when some rich and powerful asshole called the Police Commissioner or the Mayor himself to assign their best ‘people’ on the case.
That was what had happened last night. Someone had stolen some bottles of the finest wine from the bodega of the most select restaurant in town. The bottles costed several thousands of dollars (‘Who spends that kind of money when you can get a decent Pinot Grigio for 20 bucks?’ She thought), so the restaurant owner reminded the Mayor that the party’s primaries were nigh and he had always been a generous donor. Consequently, Det. House was promptly sent to work the case.
Brandy House only needed a quick tour around the restaurant and a few minutes to observe the restaurant staff working to find out that a tall, attractive raven-haired woman with olive skin and a slim figure who wore a long green dress and black stilettos was not the real maître. Likewise, a petite blonde with perky breasts, green eyes and a hard look who wore a short black skirt, white shirt, black tights and black heels was not one of the waitresses despite wearing their uniform. It did not take long for the impersonators to confess the whereabouts of the expensive wine bottles and their accomplices, who were quickly arrested, and the victims who had their clothes stolen. The real maître and the waitress were soon found inside an empty barrel in the cellar, bound and gagged in their underwear. Both women had their wrists and ankles zip-tied and their mouths gagged with duct-tape. The waitress was wearing classic white bikini panties and a white bra with a pink ribbon while the maître had opted for a bolder choice: semi-transparent metal-grey silky panties and a matching lacy bra. Det. House could not avoid staring at the two women a bit too much, finally admitting to herself that since she did a threesome with two paramedics she had met two months ago, a tall, strong guy and a curvy blonde, she paid more attention to women than before.
The brunette detective sighed and finally picked-up the phone.
- ‘What is going on now, boss? It is my day off’.
- ‘Are you at home?’.
- ‘No, I am going to church’.
- ‘Hahaha, very funny. I have sent a cruiser to pick you up. Call me in 3 minutes from a secure line’.
Brandy House cursed, but knew she had to comply. Her boss was ambitious and a pain in the ass, but he respected her talent and, deep down, he cared for her.
Two minutes later, the brunette detective jumped on a police cruiser driven by a blode, curvy policewoman who vaguely reminded her of Brenda, the paramedic, but she did not say anything. The young cop did not dare to say anything either or even to look at Brandy House. She was terrified of Capt. London, so when she was ordered to follow instructions without saying a word to anyone about anything, she was more than willing to obey.
Brandy House changed her phone’s SIM card and called her boss while the cruiser drove her outside the city.
- ‘So, what’s the story?’.
- ‘Someone broke in the house of Senator Claire Cummings. It is all very strange; some people are starting to speculate that maybe Ursula Volkanov is behind this’.
- ‘Boss, you know my process. No speculations, just facts’.
- ‘You are so fastidious, Brandy. Ok, facts. The senator and her family had a party last night and today they left the house early. They went to church and they are now on a plane: they have a political rally at the other end of the country. This morning, at 10.11, someone tried to force the senator’s safe, triggering a silent alarm. The security company could not contact the security guards who watch the house, so they called the police. At 10.18 a pair of police officers, Mia O’Shea and Sophie Wilson, called from inside the house. The safe was open and empty. No one was found at the house’.
- ‘How did the police arrive so early?’.
- ‘There are always police cruisers patrolling the neighbourhood, being a nice area full of rich people and politicians’.
- ‘What did the perpetrator or perpetrators steal?’.
- ‘No idea. The senator said that some files and jewels’.
- ‘Who lives or works at the house?’
- ‘All the family travelled with the senator and most of the staff had the day off. The maids were supposed to come to clean the house this morning, but, apparently, they never did’.
- ‘Who was supposed to be there then?’.
- ‘The property is guarded by a couple of security guards and the senator is always followed by a team of federal agents who protects her. One of the agents stayed behind this morning: the senator recently joined the Defence committee, so the Army was going to send someone… Humm, let me check for a second. Yes. Sergeant Elizabeth Reed was going to inspect the house’s security and IT system today because the senator will have access to classified material now. Wait a second! There was a last-minute change and, according to the senator’s office log, two of the federal agents stayed behind: Meadow Corradi and Clarice Hawk’.
- ‘Why the change? Did anyone suspect something?’.
- ‘No idea. I will make some inquiries and get back to you if I find anything’.
- ‘Ok. I think I have memorised everything’.
- ‘Ah, one more thing: they say that the senator is a big old dyke, that is why all her staff and security is comprised of young attractive women’.
- ‘Boss! No speculations, please’.
- ‘THOSE ARE FACTS! Anyway, I was told to send my best people and I thought you could make some sense of this mess. Needless to say, this could be big for your career, and specially for mine’.
- ‘Hahaha. I appreciate your honesty, boss. I am sure there is a rational explanation to this mystery’.
Capt. London did not hear Brandy House’s last words as he had already hung up. In any case, the brunette detective had just arrived to her destination. The senator’s house was part of an elitist neighbourhood surrounded by forests and with its own private lake. The place was full of police, but, so far, they had managed to prevent the neighbours and, more importantly, the press, to find out what had happened. That is what Det. House was ready to do: find out what happened and bring the culprit or culprits to justice. The brunette officer of the law stepped out of the police car full of resolution and with her gifted brain already working at high speed.
A Study in Red: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery
-
Torreken
- Posts: 106
- Joined: Thu Mar 12, 2020 9:20 pm
Re: A Study in Red: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery
***
Lt. Craig Boulder was the leading officer at the senator’s house that morning. He was a very unhappy man. The case perplexed him: nothing made sense in this robbery. If that was not enough, his superiors wanted results, but, more importantly, they wanted discretion. No one should know that the senator’s house had been robbed before they had arrested the criminals. The senator was already polling very high in the imminent presidential primaries and she had built her reputation for being tough on crime. She could not look like a fool who was not able to protect her own property. That is why he had been ordered to organise a ‘quiet’ manhunt, whatever the fuck it was, in the forests and the lake which surrounded the senator’s property to capture the perpetrators and recover what they had stolen. That is why, besides the best forensics team, his superiors had promised to send him the cavalry. The best detective in town was going to help him as a consultant in this case. The lieutenant was very sceptical about this, but he needed any help he could get.
A police cruiser stopped in front of the senator’s house: the cavalry had arrived. Lt Boulder saw a slightly chubby and pretty brunette stepping ungracefully out of the car. The woman almost fell and accidentally flashed her black panties to the very surprised police officer. Craig Boulder could not believe how a detective could dress up so inappropriately at a crime scene: the woman was wearing a blouse and a blazer, but her grey skirt was so short that he even got a glimpse of the embroidering of the woman’s black stockings. The lieutenant had to recognise that she looked incredibly sexy though. Hopefully she was smart too.
- ‘Det. House, the pretty brunette said, showing her badge. I was told that I was needed here’.
- The lieutenant did not appreciate the detective’s arrogant innuendo, but she was highly recommended by his superiors and beggars cannot be choosers, so he nodded and politely said: ‘Thanks for coming, detective’.
- ‘I was informed of the case’s details on my way here. Is there anything new that I should know?’.
- ‘Nothing new. We think that the criminals escaped through the forest and possibly reached the lake, that is why my men… And women, of course. Are searching the area very thoroughly. We believe that this is a work of professionals, maybe Ursula Volkanov herself…’.
- ‘Please, sir, refrain from sharing your speculations with me. I need uncontaminated facts to do my jobs’.
- Lt. Boulder breathed loudly but decided to bit his tongue before continuing: ‘Ok, facts. The responding officers arrived 3 minutes after the silent alarm went off. The property’s gate was open, but there was not anyone at the nearby security office. The two policewomen, O’Shea and Wilson, walked into the property towards the main building. The front door was closed, but there was a side door opened. They walked into the house and split to cover more ground. They quickly searched the building, but they did not find anyone: just an open and empty safe in the senator’s office. Me and two scores of officers arrived soon after and started the search for the perpetrator or perpetrators and set up check-points in every road. No one else has entered or leave the property since then, waiting for the forensics team… and you, of course. Wait a second. There is someone who will explain this better than I do’.
Craig Boulder turned and yelled: ‘Wilson! Wilsoooon! WIIIIILLLLSSSSSOOON!’ Finally, a petite raven-haired policewoman turned and walked towards them, blushing and looking at the ground. ‘What the fuck, Wilson? Have you forgotten your own name or are you fucking deaf?’, the lieutenant berated her. Sophie Wilson was a young and pretty cop who wore her luscious black hair in a ponytail. She had beautiful grey eyes, a cute nose and thin lips. Her uniform, which consisted of navy-blue pants and shirt and black hat, tie and shoes, was a tad big for her, but Det. House noticed a slender figure, a well-toned ass and two firm B-cups breasts underneath the unflattering uniform. Brandy House told to herself that she was just registering all the information available, but she knew that she was lying to herself. ‘Focus and stop eye-fucking every rookie cop you see’, she mentally ordered to herself.
In the meantime, Lt. Boulder had finished scolding the ashamed policewoman, so she was ready to tell Brandy House what she has seen when she and her partner arrived to the crime scene. However, before she could start speaking, the brunette detective made her a gesture to stop and said: ‘I have all the information I need, so I do not want any subjective commentary that could condition my train of thought’. The lieutenant almost lost his patience, but, showing enormous restraint, only snorted before saying: ‘I understand, no subjectivity, only facts. I am going to let you do your magic, err… job, detective. Officer Wilson will assist you with everything you need, but please call me as soon as you find something important’. ‘Will do, sir’, Brandy House answered, although Craig Boulder was already walking away.
During the conversation the brunette detective had already entered her ‘mind palace’, registering every detail from the surroundings, so she failed to notice the whole extent of the lieutenant annoyance towards her. Without a word, she walked towards the property’s entrance, followed by a nervous Sophie Wilson. The main gate was fully open as was the security guards’ office. There was no trace of the missing security guards, just two silent computers with no programs running. However, that was more than enough for Det. House to start making connections, so she left the office in a hurry while quickly explaining the confused policewoman what she had discovered.
‘Someone cut off the electricity of the building and switched it back on after a few minutes: that is why the computers had restarted but the camera feed was not working. They wanted to lure the security guards out of their officer’, Brandy House said, pointing to a fuse box located a few yards away, out of sight from the main entrance.
The two women arrived there, noticing that the box was open, but all the fuses were up. Det. House examined the area for two minutes and, smiling, said out loud: ‘The criminal tampered with the fuse box and hid behind that tree. One of the security guards, a redhead, arrived to inspect the fuse box, getting hit by a tranquilising dart. The drug did not fully knock her out, so our mysterious attacker had to run to the security guard and use a cloth soaked in chloroform to finish the job before the redhead could alert her partner’.
Officer Wilson’s eyes were wide open and, trembling a bit, asked: ‘How can you possibly know that?’. Smiling, Det. House pointed to a small dart partly hidden by stomped grass, which also indicated some kind of struggle. The policewoman nodded but continued: ‘How do you know that the security guard is a redhead though?’ ‘Easy, Brandy House answered, redheads are more resistant to anaesthesia than other people. Besides, there is a long red hair there’, she concluded, with a smirk.
The raven-haired cop could not hide her amazement, so she asked: ‘What happened next?’ The brunette detective took a few seconds to look around and think before saying: ‘she left the unconscious body of the security guard there and hid again, waiting for the victim’s partner to arrive. The second security guard saw her partner lying there and rushed to help her. This time, the criminal decided to stealthily walk behind her and point a gun to the unsuspecting guard’s back’. Pointing to some marks on the ground which lead to the nearby forest, Brandy House continued: ‘the criminal forced the second guard to drag the body of her unconscious partner over those bushes without turning around’, and rushed towards there.
The raven-haired policewoman needed a few seconds to react, but she was able to quickly follow the increasingly excited detective, who continued her explanation: ‘we will need to corroborate this, and I hate speculations, but my theory is that the criminal forced the second guard to strip the unconscious redhead and then, to take off her own uniform. Finally, she, because at this stage it is evident that the criminal was a woman who worked alone, bound and gagged the security guards and stole the clothes she needed’.
Det. House was absolutely right. Behind the bushes, the two missing security guards were found. A tallish, slim redhead named Belinda Hope laid hogtied on the ground, still unconscious. She was only wearing forest green hipster panties and a matching t-shirt bra, which covered her perky tits, and her mouth was gagged with tape. Next to her, laid Gwen Jasper, a short, curvy blonde with short hair, who wriggled with vehemence, unsuccessfully trying to loosen the deft knots who tied her ankles and wrists together. Her mouth was stuffed with a cloth a sealed with taped while her eyes were blindfolded by another strip of duct tape. She was wearing red cheeky panties and a matching lacy bra which had failed to contain the guard’ generous breasts. One of Gwen’s A-cups round tits had slipped from the bra because of the guard’s wriggling. The blonde noticed that someone was there, so she started to whimper, asking for help. Finally, there was also a pile of clothes: a pair of grey trousers, a grey shirt with the yellow emblem of the security company and a badge with the name Jasper on it, a black tie and a pair of comfy dark-brown shoes.
- With surprising confidence, the raven-haired policewoman decided to speak before the detective: ‘I think I know why both security guards were ordered to undress: the criminal wanted the clothes who best fit her, so she chose the redhead’s shirt and the blonde’s trousers and shoes. I do not know which of the guards unwillingly donated her tie to their attacker though’.
- Detective House smiled at the young cop and said ‘Elementary, Officer Wilson’. Then, she said: ‘first mystery solved, let’s go back to the house now’.
- The policewoman was utterly surprised, so she asked: ‘shouldn’t we free the guards first?’. ‘No. None of them could see the attacker, so they could not offer any meaningful information’.
- ‘But the blonde guard heard the criminal’s voice!’, Sophie Wilson cheekily argued.
- ‘Yes, but a) time is of essence, we cannot lose it with menial things, b) I do not want any subjective appreciation condition my thinking and c) probably the attacker was smart enough to use a different voice than hers when she ordered the security guard to carry her partner and to undress her and herself’, Det. House conclusively answered. Her initial warmth had quickly disappeared once her views were challenged.
- ‘You must be right, the criminal would be a fool if she did that’, the young policewoman conceded, blushing with embarrassment.
Gwen Jasper did not agree with this though. The blonde guard had heard everything and she did not like the outcome of the conversation. She started to wriggle and moan more frantically, hoping to be heard and, more importantly, untied, to no avail. Det House and Sophie Wilson quickly walked back to the house.
Lt. Craig Boulder was the leading officer at the senator’s house that morning. He was a very unhappy man. The case perplexed him: nothing made sense in this robbery. If that was not enough, his superiors wanted results, but, more importantly, they wanted discretion. No one should know that the senator’s house had been robbed before they had arrested the criminals. The senator was already polling very high in the imminent presidential primaries and she had built her reputation for being tough on crime. She could not look like a fool who was not able to protect her own property. That is why he had been ordered to organise a ‘quiet’ manhunt, whatever the fuck it was, in the forests and the lake which surrounded the senator’s property to capture the perpetrators and recover what they had stolen. That is why, besides the best forensics team, his superiors had promised to send him the cavalry. The best detective in town was going to help him as a consultant in this case. The lieutenant was very sceptical about this, but he needed any help he could get.
A police cruiser stopped in front of the senator’s house: the cavalry had arrived. Lt Boulder saw a slightly chubby and pretty brunette stepping ungracefully out of the car. The woman almost fell and accidentally flashed her black panties to the very surprised police officer. Craig Boulder could not believe how a detective could dress up so inappropriately at a crime scene: the woman was wearing a blouse and a blazer, but her grey skirt was so short that he even got a glimpse of the embroidering of the woman’s black stockings. The lieutenant had to recognise that she looked incredibly sexy though. Hopefully she was smart too.
- ‘Det. House, the pretty brunette said, showing her badge. I was told that I was needed here’.
- The lieutenant did not appreciate the detective’s arrogant innuendo, but she was highly recommended by his superiors and beggars cannot be choosers, so he nodded and politely said: ‘Thanks for coming, detective’.
- ‘I was informed of the case’s details on my way here. Is there anything new that I should know?’.
- ‘Nothing new. We think that the criminals escaped through the forest and possibly reached the lake, that is why my men… And women, of course. Are searching the area very thoroughly. We believe that this is a work of professionals, maybe Ursula Volkanov herself…’.
- ‘Please, sir, refrain from sharing your speculations with me. I need uncontaminated facts to do my jobs’.
- Lt. Boulder breathed loudly but decided to bit his tongue before continuing: ‘Ok, facts. The responding officers arrived 3 minutes after the silent alarm went off. The property’s gate was open, but there was not anyone at the nearby security office. The two policewomen, O’Shea and Wilson, walked into the property towards the main building. The front door was closed, but there was a side door opened. They walked into the house and split to cover more ground. They quickly searched the building, but they did not find anyone: just an open and empty safe in the senator’s office. Me and two scores of officers arrived soon after and started the search for the perpetrator or perpetrators and set up check-points in every road. No one else has entered or leave the property since then, waiting for the forensics team… and you, of course. Wait a second. There is someone who will explain this better than I do’.
Craig Boulder turned and yelled: ‘Wilson! Wilsoooon! WIIIIILLLLSSSSSOOON!’ Finally, a petite raven-haired policewoman turned and walked towards them, blushing and looking at the ground. ‘What the fuck, Wilson? Have you forgotten your own name or are you fucking deaf?’, the lieutenant berated her. Sophie Wilson was a young and pretty cop who wore her luscious black hair in a ponytail. She had beautiful grey eyes, a cute nose and thin lips. Her uniform, which consisted of navy-blue pants and shirt and black hat, tie and shoes, was a tad big for her, but Det. House noticed a slender figure, a well-toned ass and two firm B-cups breasts underneath the unflattering uniform. Brandy House told to herself that she was just registering all the information available, but she knew that she was lying to herself. ‘Focus and stop eye-fucking every rookie cop you see’, she mentally ordered to herself.
In the meantime, Lt. Boulder had finished scolding the ashamed policewoman, so she was ready to tell Brandy House what she has seen when she and her partner arrived to the crime scene. However, before she could start speaking, the brunette detective made her a gesture to stop and said: ‘I have all the information I need, so I do not want any subjective commentary that could condition my train of thought’. The lieutenant almost lost his patience, but, showing enormous restraint, only snorted before saying: ‘I understand, no subjectivity, only facts. I am going to let you do your magic, err… job, detective. Officer Wilson will assist you with everything you need, but please call me as soon as you find something important’. ‘Will do, sir’, Brandy House answered, although Craig Boulder was already walking away.
During the conversation the brunette detective had already entered her ‘mind palace’, registering every detail from the surroundings, so she failed to notice the whole extent of the lieutenant annoyance towards her. Without a word, she walked towards the property’s entrance, followed by a nervous Sophie Wilson. The main gate was fully open as was the security guards’ office. There was no trace of the missing security guards, just two silent computers with no programs running. However, that was more than enough for Det. House to start making connections, so she left the office in a hurry while quickly explaining the confused policewoman what she had discovered.
‘Someone cut off the electricity of the building and switched it back on after a few minutes: that is why the computers had restarted but the camera feed was not working. They wanted to lure the security guards out of their officer’, Brandy House said, pointing to a fuse box located a few yards away, out of sight from the main entrance.
The two women arrived there, noticing that the box was open, but all the fuses were up. Det. House examined the area for two minutes and, smiling, said out loud: ‘The criminal tampered with the fuse box and hid behind that tree. One of the security guards, a redhead, arrived to inspect the fuse box, getting hit by a tranquilising dart. The drug did not fully knock her out, so our mysterious attacker had to run to the security guard and use a cloth soaked in chloroform to finish the job before the redhead could alert her partner’.
Officer Wilson’s eyes were wide open and, trembling a bit, asked: ‘How can you possibly know that?’. Smiling, Det. House pointed to a small dart partly hidden by stomped grass, which also indicated some kind of struggle. The policewoman nodded but continued: ‘How do you know that the security guard is a redhead though?’ ‘Easy, Brandy House answered, redheads are more resistant to anaesthesia than other people. Besides, there is a long red hair there’, she concluded, with a smirk.
The raven-haired cop could not hide her amazement, so she asked: ‘What happened next?’ The brunette detective took a few seconds to look around and think before saying: ‘she left the unconscious body of the security guard there and hid again, waiting for the victim’s partner to arrive. The second security guard saw her partner lying there and rushed to help her. This time, the criminal decided to stealthily walk behind her and point a gun to the unsuspecting guard’s back’. Pointing to some marks on the ground which lead to the nearby forest, Brandy House continued: ‘the criminal forced the second guard to drag the body of her unconscious partner over those bushes without turning around’, and rushed towards there.
The raven-haired policewoman needed a few seconds to react, but she was able to quickly follow the increasingly excited detective, who continued her explanation: ‘we will need to corroborate this, and I hate speculations, but my theory is that the criminal forced the second guard to strip the unconscious redhead and then, to take off her own uniform. Finally, she, because at this stage it is evident that the criminal was a woman who worked alone, bound and gagged the security guards and stole the clothes she needed’.
Det. House was absolutely right. Behind the bushes, the two missing security guards were found. A tallish, slim redhead named Belinda Hope laid hogtied on the ground, still unconscious. She was only wearing forest green hipster panties and a matching t-shirt bra, which covered her perky tits, and her mouth was gagged with tape. Next to her, laid Gwen Jasper, a short, curvy blonde with short hair, who wriggled with vehemence, unsuccessfully trying to loosen the deft knots who tied her ankles and wrists together. Her mouth was stuffed with a cloth a sealed with taped while her eyes were blindfolded by another strip of duct tape. She was wearing red cheeky panties and a matching lacy bra which had failed to contain the guard’ generous breasts. One of Gwen’s A-cups round tits had slipped from the bra because of the guard’s wriggling. The blonde noticed that someone was there, so she started to whimper, asking for help. Finally, there was also a pile of clothes: a pair of grey trousers, a grey shirt with the yellow emblem of the security company and a badge with the name Jasper on it, a black tie and a pair of comfy dark-brown shoes.
- With surprising confidence, the raven-haired policewoman decided to speak before the detective: ‘I think I know why both security guards were ordered to undress: the criminal wanted the clothes who best fit her, so she chose the redhead’s shirt and the blonde’s trousers and shoes. I do not know which of the guards unwillingly donated her tie to their attacker though’.
- Detective House smiled at the young cop and said ‘Elementary, Officer Wilson’. Then, she said: ‘first mystery solved, let’s go back to the house now’.
- The policewoman was utterly surprised, so she asked: ‘shouldn’t we free the guards first?’. ‘No. None of them could see the attacker, so they could not offer any meaningful information’.
- ‘But the blonde guard heard the criminal’s voice!’, Sophie Wilson cheekily argued.
- ‘Yes, but a) time is of essence, we cannot lose it with menial things, b) I do not want any subjective appreciation condition my thinking and c) probably the attacker was smart enough to use a different voice than hers when she ordered the security guard to carry her partner and to undress her and herself’, Det. House conclusively answered. Her initial warmth had quickly disappeared once her views were challenged.
- ‘You must be right, the criminal would be a fool if she did that’, the young policewoman conceded, blushing with embarrassment.
Gwen Jasper did not agree with this though. The blonde guard had heard everything and she did not like the outcome of the conversation. She started to wriggle and moan more frantically, hoping to be heard and, more importantly, untied, to no avail. Det House and Sophie Wilson quickly walked back to the house.
-
Torreken
- Posts: 106
- Joined: Thu Mar 12, 2020 9:20 pm
Re: A Study in Red: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery
***
Brandy House crossed the property’s gate and looked around. The main building was 60 yards from the entrance, surrounded by a beautiful garden and a pool. There were other smaller buildings: a pool-house and a small warehouse, but it was a line of cars parked under a big shed which caught the detective’s attention. After a few seconds, she turned to Sophie Wilson and said: ‘Of course! The federal agents who protect the senator know the security guards, so she needed another uniform before getting into the house’. Then, she continued exultantly: ‘Look at the cars parked there. The tyres of those two, pointing to an old blue Ford and a conspicuous black SUV, are slightly covered in mud. This morning it rained a little bit between 08.00 and 09.00, so these cars arrived after that. Our mysterious woman was waiting for them to get a change of clothes’.
Sophie Wilson was speechless, unable to understand how the brunette detective could figure out all that with so little information. However, before she could utter a word, Det. House continued to unravel the mystery: ‘The blue Ford probably belongs to the maids who came to clean the house after last night’s party and, considering that it is parked in the easiest spot available, it arrived first. The black SUV is the idea of the Army of a ‘discreet’ vehicle, as the governmental plates indicate. They came today to inspect the senator’s house security after she joined the Defence committee and, to their chagrin, they found that it was not good at all’.
- ‘How so?’ Sophie Wilson asked.
- Det. House, happily obliged: ‘The mysterious woman, disguised as a security guard, sat on the entrance and waited. First, when the maids arrived, she let them come in without a hitch. It was likely that the federal agents also knew the maids if they came to clean the house regularly, so the criminal needed to impersonate someone who they did not know’. The raven-haired policewoman was impressed beyond words and now that she was on a roll, nothing could stop Brandy House from talking: ‘it is no coincidence that the criminal decided to strike today. She knew that the senator and her family would not be here, so the house would not be heavily guarded. Moreover, stealing the contents of the safe would have been a much more difficult task if the Army had time to improve the house’s security’.
- The young cop, now weirdly excited, asked: ‘How do you think the criminal managed to neutralise the army officer and steal her uniform? Where is she then?’.
- ‘Elementary, my dear Wilson, Brandy House answered with a patronizing tone. The house was too close, and the military officer was accompanied by a driver, so the criminal had no room to be creative. She opened the gate, told the military women to park here and, when they stepped out of the car, she drew a gun to them. She had not much time, so she probably only ordered to strip to the Sergeant. Then, the private, threatened with the gun and the prospect of suffering the same indignity as her superior, restrained the sergeant before being tied up herself. Finally, with no other option available, the criminal forced the two women inside the trunk of their vehicle’.
At that exact time, Det. House and Officer Wilson heard a thump coming from the black SUV. Brandy House found the keys of the vehicle hid on top of one the wheels, so she was able to open the car’s trunk, confirming her explanation.
Two women laid down in the trunk with their hands zip-tied behind their backs, their ankles tied together and their mouths gagged with tape. A coil of rope circled their waists and another their necks, limiting their wriggling room. Sergeant Elizabeth Reed was a blonde woman in her mid-thirties who kept her dark-blonde hair in a tidy bun. She was short and fit, her breasts smallish but perky and her ass toned. Most of all, she was extremely angry to be found bound and gagged in her underwear, as the blonde sergeant was only wearing pink strawberry printed bikini panties with matching bra. Her driver, Private Victoria Tyrell, was a petite brunette in her early twenties with green eyes and a comely face full of freckles. She had been more fortunate than her superior, as she had managed to keep her uniform, comprised of olive-green skirt and matching blazer, a light-green shirt and a black tie. She had lost her shoes though and, more worryingly, all the wriggling she and Sergeant Reed had done to call the attention of the cops resulted in her skirt hiking up, revealing her shapely legs and enticing rear, which were only covered by light-brown pantyhose and blue tanga panties.
Brandy House stared for a few seconds at the brunette soldier’s legs and then turned around quickly walking towards the main building. Sophie looked at the two military women, politely smiling, and softly said: ‘Sorry, we are in a hurry and the detective thinks that your testimony would be detrimental to the case, conditioning her thinking process. Crazy, right? Anyway, someone will rescue you soon, I guess’. The blonde sergeant, incensed with rage, yelled and squirmed, but no one else could hear or see her.
Sophie Wilson walked into the senator’s house through a side door, entering a room which seemed some kind of reception area in the process of being cleaned. A desk chair was pushed away a few yards from a big desk, the carpet was creased in a couple of spots, a bin was full with coffee cups and a cleaning trolley was stationed in a corner. Det House had arrived to the room only a few seconds before Sophie, but it was plenty of time for her gifted brain to absorb a lot of information.
- The brunette detective mumbled to herself while calculating distances. After three minutes, she looked at the young cop and triumphantly said: ‘This was a tough one, but I figured it out. It sounds strange, but it is the only rational explanation. Do you know what happened here?’.
- The raven-haired policewoman looked at the detective with a mixture of concern and doubt before answering: ‘How could I know?’.
- Det. House exhaled, showing her frustration, and said: ‘Fine, let me show you. The criminal, now wearing the military uniform she had stolen, walked into this room. There, she continued, pointing to the desk, sat one of the federal agents of the senator’s detail, unaware of the fact that the woman dressed as a sergeant was an impersonator. The mysterious woman got closer and pressed a cloth soaked in chloroform against the agent’s face. The federal agent was caught by surprised, but she tried to resist and pushed the chair away, that is why there is one creasing of the carpet there. It did not work, though. The woman finally succumbed to the chloroform and fell to the floor unconscious, look at the shape of the carpet here. Suddenly, something unexpected happened. Before the criminal could steal the federal agent’s clothes and restrain her, she heard that someone was coming’.
- With a devious smile, but feigning modesty, Sophie Wilson answered: ‘I think I figured it out. The criminal heard the trolley: the maids were coming towards this room before she anticipated’.
- Brandy House smiled and replied: ‘Elementary, my dear Wilson. Our woman was lucky and had time to prepare for the arrival of the two maids, so she hid behind the door and, when they arrived, she rendered them unconscious. She did not have time to prepare more chloroform, so she jumped them from behind and pinched her necks, knocking them out on the spot’.
- ‘Wow, the criminal seems very crafty’, the young cop said, trying to disguise her amusement.
- ‘She is very resourceful and had good intel, I must concede, but sooner or later she must have made a mistake, rest assured’, Det. House confidently affirmed.
- ‘I guess’, Sophie Wilson answered, scratching the back of her head.
- Brandy House looked around the room for more clues. First, she inspected the trolley. Finding the unconscious bodies of the maids there would have been too much of a cliché. Moreover, the police were not the keenest observers, but they would had noticed something like that when they entered the house even if they were on a hurry. Then, Brandy House slowly emptied the bin and, glowing with pride, handed a small key to Sophie Wilson. ‘Please, open that storage room for me, please’, the detective politely asked, pointing to a wooden door.
Once again, Det. House was proven right. The two cleaners sat on the floor of the storage room, back to back, with their tied hands resting on each other other’s lap and their mouths gagged with tape. The two women were close to regain consciousness, but they had not completely woken up from their induced slumber. A petite woman in her early twenties with light brown hair, blue eyes and pale skin, named Georgina Abencoa, got the shortest straw: she was only wearing bright yellow bikini panties and matching bra after having her clothes stolen. Her friend, Pamela Suarez, a taller and voluptuous Latina with caramel-coloured skin, big almond-shaped brown eyes and black and curly hair was more fortunate and was able to keep her long sky-blue housekeeping dress, her white apron and her grey trainers. Nevertheless, Brandy House undressed the Latina maid with her eyes, wondering what kind of underwear she was wearing underneath her uniform and imagining the shape of her big, round ass and the touch of her juicy A-cup breasts. Georgina was very cute, but Pamela was a stunner: ‘a pity that she was not the criminal’s size’, the detective maliciously thought to herself.
Next to the two cleaners, the federal agent laid unconscious. Meadow Corradi was a buxom, curvy raven-haired beauty with curly hair, olive-coloured skin and big brown eyes. Considering that she was forced to inhale a hefty dose of chloroform, she would not wake up for a few hours. However, the criminal had decided to err on the side of caution, so she was hogtied with a pair of light-brown pantyhose that probably belonged to Georgina and her mouth was gagged with the agent’s own red silk scarf. The mysterious assailant had been surprised by the two cleaners in the process of undressing the federal agent. Meadow Corradi had lost her black skirt and blazer, which were also hidden in the storage room, and her white shirt was dishevelled, so Det House could admire the agent’s shapely legs, round thighs and enticing ass encased in black pantyhose, and Meadow’s unfortunate choice of lingerie that fateful day. Underneath the black pantyhose, it was not difficult to appreciate a red thong. Likewise, a lacy red bra emerged from the agent’s unbuttoned shirt, barely covering her firm A-cup tits, where the agent’s badge rested.
Once again, Brandy House spent a few too many seconds staring at the sexy federal agent, wondering if the two paramedics, specially Brenda, would be open to introduce bondage in their repertoire. Sophie Wilson’s question helped the brunette detective to regain their senses. The young cop, now clearly enjoying the case, asked her why the criminal had changed her mind and, instead of taking the agent’s clothes, had opted to impersonate one of the cleaners.
- ‘That is elementary, dear Wilson. The sudden arrival of the cleaners was a blessing in disguise, no pun intended, for our criminal. The petite cleaner’s uniform was a better fit for her and, at this point, she thought there was not anyone else in the house. However, she made a mistake, as I predicted she would do. When I checked the bin, I noticed that there was an even number of empty cups, six, which means that there were two federal agents, not only one’.
- Sophie Wilson nodded in agreement and, full of admiration, said: ‘Madam, your descriptions are so vivid and insightful that I feel I saw what happened. Where should we go next?’.
Brandy House crossed the property’s gate and looked around. The main building was 60 yards from the entrance, surrounded by a beautiful garden and a pool. There were other smaller buildings: a pool-house and a small warehouse, but it was a line of cars parked under a big shed which caught the detective’s attention. After a few seconds, she turned to Sophie Wilson and said: ‘Of course! The federal agents who protect the senator know the security guards, so she needed another uniform before getting into the house’. Then, she continued exultantly: ‘Look at the cars parked there. The tyres of those two, pointing to an old blue Ford and a conspicuous black SUV, are slightly covered in mud. This morning it rained a little bit between 08.00 and 09.00, so these cars arrived after that. Our mysterious woman was waiting for them to get a change of clothes’.
Sophie Wilson was speechless, unable to understand how the brunette detective could figure out all that with so little information. However, before she could utter a word, Det. House continued to unravel the mystery: ‘The blue Ford probably belongs to the maids who came to clean the house after last night’s party and, considering that it is parked in the easiest spot available, it arrived first. The black SUV is the idea of the Army of a ‘discreet’ vehicle, as the governmental plates indicate. They came today to inspect the senator’s house security after she joined the Defence committee and, to their chagrin, they found that it was not good at all’.
- ‘How so?’ Sophie Wilson asked.
- Det. House, happily obliged: ‘The mysterious woman, disguised as a security guard, sat on the entrance and waited. First, when the maids arrived, she let them come in without a hitch. It was likely that the federal agents also knew the maids if they came to clean the house regularly, so the criminal needed to impersonate someone who they did not know’. The raven-haired policewoman was impressed beyond words and now that she was on a roll, nothing could stop Brandy House from talking: ‘it is no coincidence that the criminal decided to strike today. She knew that the senator and her family would not be here, so the house would not be heavily guarded. Moreover, stealing the contents of the safe would have been a much more difficult task if the Army had time to improve the house’s security’.
- The young cop, now weirdly excited, asked: ‘How do you think the criminal managed to neutralise the army officer and steal her uniform? Where is she then?’.
- ‘Elementary, my dear Wilson, Brandy House answered with a patronizing tone. The house was too close, and the military officer was accompanied by a driver, so the criminal had no room to be creative. She opened the gate, told the military women to park here and, when they stepped out of the car, she drew a gun to them. She had not much time, so she probably only ordered to strip to the Sergeant. Then, the private, threatened with the gun and the prospect of suffering the same indignity as her superior, restrained the sergeant before being tied up herself. Finally, with no other option available, the criminal forced the two women inside the trunk of their vehicle’.
At that exact time, Det. House and Officer Wilson heard a thump coming from the black SUV. Brandy House found the keys of the vehicle hid on top of one the wheels, so she was able to open the car’s trunk, confirming her explanation.
Two women laid down in the trunk with their hands zip-tied behind their backs, their ankles tied together and their mouths gagged with tape. A coil of rope circled their waists and another their necks, limiting their wriggling room. Sergeant Elizabeth Reed was a blonde woman in her mid-thirties who kept her dark-blonde hair in a tidy bun. She was short and fit, her breasts smallish but perky and her ass toned. Most of all, she was extremely angry to be found bound and gagged in her underwear, as the blonde sergeant was only wearing pink strawberry printed bikini panties with matching bra. Her driver, Private Victoria Tyrell, was a petite brunette in her early twenties with green eyes and a comely face full of freckles. She had been more fortunate than her superior, as she had managed to keep her uniform, comprised of olive-green skirt and matching blazer, a light-green shirt and a black tie. She had lost her shoes though and, more worryingly, all the wriggling she and Sergeant Reed had done to call the attention of the cops resulted in her skirt hiking up, revealing her shapely legs and enticing rear, which were only covered by light-brown pantyhose and blue tanga panties.
Brandy House stared for a few seconds at the brunette soldier’s legs and then turned around quickly walking towards the main building. Sophie looked at the two military women, politely smiling, and softly said: ‘Sorry, we are in a hurry and the detective thinks that your testimony would be detrimental to the case, conditioning her thinking process. Crazy, right? Anyway, someone will rescue you soon, I guess’. The blonde sergeant, incensed with rage, yelled and squirmed, but no one else could hear or see her.
Sophie Wilson walked into the senator’s house through a side door, entering a room which seemed some kind of reception area in the process of being cleaned. A desk chair was pushed away a few yards from a big desk, the carpet was creased in a couple of spots, a bin was full with coffee cups and a cleaning trolley was stationed in a corner. Det House had arrived to the room only a few seconds before Sophie, but it was plenty of time for her gifted brain to absorb a lot of information.
- The brunette detective mumbled to herself while calculating distances. After three minutes, she looked at the young cop and triumphantly said: ‘This was a tough one, but I figured it out. It sounds strange, but it is the only rational explanation. Do you know what happened here?’.
- The raven-haired policewoman looked at the detective with a mixture of concern and doubt before answering: ‘How could I know?’.
- Det. House exhaled, showing her frustration, and said: ‘Fine, let me show you. The criminal, now wearing the military uniform she had stolen, walked into this room. There, she continued, pointing to the desk, sat one of the federal agents of the senator’s detail, unaware of the fact that the woman dressed as a sergeant was an impersonator. The mysterious woman got closer and pressed a cloth soaked in chloroform against the agent’s face. The federal agent was caught by surprised, but she tried to resist and pushed the chair away, that is why there is one creasing of the carpet there. It did not work, though. The woman finally succumbed to the chloroform and fell to the floor unconscious, look at the shape of the carpet here. Suddenly, something unexpected happened. Before the criminal could steal the federal agent’s clothes and restrain her, she heard that someone was coming’.
- With a devious smile, but feigning modesty, Sophie Wilson answered: ‘I think I figured it out. The criminal heard the trolley: the maids were coming towards this room before she anticipated’.
- Brandy House smiled and replied: ‘Elementary, my dear Wilson. Our woman was lucky and had time to prepare for the arrival of the two maids, so she hid behind the door and, when they arrived, she rendered them unconscious. She did not have time to prepare more chloroform, so she jumped them from behind and pinched her necks, knocking them out on the spot’.
- ‘Wow, the criminal seems very crafty’, the young cop said, trying to disguise her amusement.
- ‘She is very resourceful and had good intel, I must concede, but sooner or later she must have made a mistake, rest assured’, Det. House confidently affirmed.
- ‘I guess’, Sophie Wilson answered, scratching the back of her head.
- Brandy House looked around the room for more clues. First, she inspected the trolley. Finding the unconscious bodies of the maids there would have been too much of a cliché. Moreover, the police were not the keenest observers, but they would had noticed something like that when they entered the house even if they were on a hurry. Then, Brandy House slowly emptied the bin and, glowing with pride, handed a small key to Sophie Wilson. ‘Please, open that storage room for me, please’, the detective politely asked, pointing to a wooden door.
Once again, Det. House was proven right. The two cleaners sat on the floor of the storage room, back to back, with their tied hands resting on each other other’s lap and their mouths gagged with tape. The two women were close to regain consciousness, but they had not completely woken up from their induced slumber. A petite woman in her early twenties with light brown hair, blue eyes and pale skin, named Georgina Abencoa, got the shortest straw: she was only wearing bright yellow bikini panties and matching bra after having her clothes stolen. Her friend, Pamela Suarez, a taller and voluptuous Latina with caramel-coloured skin, big almond-shaped brown eyes and black and curly hair was more fortunate and was able to keep her long sky-blue housekeeping dress, her white apron and her grey trainers. Nevertheless, Brandy House undressed the Latina maid with her eyes, wondering what kind of underwear she was wearing underneath her uniform and imagining the shape of her big, round ass and the touch of her juicy A-cup breasts. Georgina was very cute, but Pamela was a stunner: ‘a pity that she was not the criminal’s size’, the detective maliciously thought to herself.
Next to the two cleaners, the federal agent laid unconscious. Meadow Corradi was a buxom, curvy raven-haired beauty with curly hair, olive-coloured skin and big brown eyes. Considering that she was forced to inhale a hefty dose of chloroform, she would not wake up for a few hours. However, the criminal had decided to err on the side of caution, so she was hogtied with a pair of light-brown pantyhose that probably belonged to Georgina and her mouth was gagged with the agent’s own red silk scarf. The mysterious assailant had been surprised by the two cleaners in the process of undressing the federal agent. Meadow Corradi had lost her black skirt and blazer, which were also hidden in the storage room, and her white shirt was dishevelled, so Det House could admire the agent’s shapely legs, round thighs and enticing ass encased in black pantyhose, and Meadow’s unfortunate choice of lingerie that fateful day. Underneath the black pantyhose, it was not difficult to appreciate a red thong. Likewise, a lacy red bra emerged from the agent’s unbuttoned shirt, barely covering her firm A-cup tits, where the agent’s badge rested.
Once again, Brandy House spent a few too many seconds staring at the sexy federal agent, wondering if the two paramedics, specially Brenda, would be open to introduce bondage in their repertoire. Sophie Wilson’s question helped the brunette detective to regain their senses. The young cop, now clearly enjoying the case, asked her why the criminal had changed her mind and, instead of taking the agent’s clothes, had opted to impersonate one of the cleaners.
- ‘That is elementary, dear Wilson. The sudden arrival of the cleaners was a blessing in disguise, no pun intended, for our criminal. The petite cleaner’s uniform was a better fit for her and, at this point, she thought there was not anyone else in the house. However, she made a mistake, as I predicted she would do. When I checked the bin, I noticed that there was an even number of empty cups, six, which means that there were two federal agents, not only one’.
- Sophie Wilson nodded in agreement and, full of admiration, said: ‘Madam, your descriptions are so vivid and insightful that I feel I saw what happened. Where should we go next?’.
-
Torreken
- Posts: 106
- Joined: Thu Mar 12, 2020 9:20 pm
Re: A Study in Red: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery
***
The two women inspected the nearby rooms, but Brandy House did not find anything worth of noting. Finally, the detective decided to walk towards the senator’s office, where the safe was. The fate of the second federal agent bothered her. The criminal did not know about her and that was surprising: it was the first time that her intel was not correct. ‘It could be a coincidence, do not start to speculate and focus on interpreting the available evidence’, Det. House told herself.
Walking through a long hallway, Brandy House was analysing every detail, searching for clues, when she breathed with relief.
- ‘Ok, now I know what happened to the second federal agent’, she said, pointing to the carpet, and to a slightly crooked picture on the wall.
- Sophie Wilson looked alternatively at the carpet and at the detective. After a few seconds she asked: ‘Could you, please, elaborate, madam?’.
- Det. House breathed with resignation, frustrated that the young cop could not see things as clearly as she did. ‘Look at the carpet, there are prints from short-heeled shoes starting here, she said, pointing to a door. The criminal was wearing trainers, so those prints were the federal agent’s. She opened the door and accidentally ran into the false maid. After a few seconds of doubt, she realised that the woman was an impostor who had stolen the cleaner’s uniform, so she jumped her. However, our criminal knows how to fight, so she used the agent’s inertia to threw her to that wall, causing that picture to move. Then, the criminal knocked the agent out with a deft blow and dragged her unconscious body through that door, Brandy House concluded, pointing to some revealing marks on the carpet.
- After a few seconds of awe, Sophie Wilson answered: ‘Sorry for being repetitive, madam, but if I had seen it with my own eyes, I would not have been able to describe it better. What you say makes total sense, I am sorry I could not see it before’.
- ‘It is alright, you are learning’, the detective replied, with a patronizing smile.
- ‘That door leaves to the basement. We already checked it out and we did not find anything. Maybe we should go directly to the senator’s office, madam, the lieutenant must we getting impatient.
- Det. House dismissed that thought and replied: ‘I thought you were having fun! Why the rush all of a sudden? I need to know that I was right. Moreover, it is very likely that the second federal agent has regained her consciousness by now, so it might be easier to find her’.
Once again, Det. House was proven right. The two women did not need to search the basement for the missing federal agent, she made herself notice. The moment the two officers of the law switched on the basement’s light, they heard a loud noise coming from a big trash can. When they opened the lid they obviously found the missing federal agent. Clarice Hawk was a pretty, slim blonde in her mid-twenties, with medium-length hair and green eyes. The agent had her hands tied behind her thighs, forcing her to curl and severely limiting her mobility. To add salt to the injury, Clarice Hawk was completely naked. Her white and blue-striped bra was lying on the floor, next to the now useless maid uniform and a pair of grey trainers. The agent’s matching panties were stuffed in her mouth, held by Clarice’s own black pantyhose. It seemed evident that the criminal was angry for their brusque encounter, so stealing the federal agent’s clothes was not punishment enough, she had to further humiliate her.
After being found, the federal agent’s initial mixture of embarrassment and relief was replaced by unmitigated fury. She violently wriggled and shouted, looking intently at both the detective and the policewoman, but the white and blue-striped panties stuffed in her mouth muffled her voice, making her words incomprehensible. Once again, Det House spent a few too many seconds devouring the tied-up woman with her eyes. Clarice’s slim body and perky C-tits were a pleasant sight. Once again, Sophie Wilson’s voice broke the spell.
- ‘Shall we continue, madam? I am sure you do not want to hear any subjective commentary that could condition your train of thought’, the policewoman asked.
- ‘Yes, of course’, the detective automatically answered, trying to hide her embarrassment for staring too much to the blonde agent’s enticing naked body.
The furious federal agent could only yell in frustration, red with rage, when Sophie Wilson waved her hand saying goodbye and closed the lid of the trash can.
Finally, the detective and the policewoman arrived to the senator’s office, the centre of the mystery. The room offered a striking view, that could not be denied. The walls were painted in red and the desk chair and the sofa were upholstered with red velvet too. Obviously, the floor was carpeted with red rug. Det. House lost no time in inspecting the room for clues. She spent a couple of minutes staring at the safe, open and empty, walked around the room, calculating distances, and checked the doors and windows. Then, she stared at an amazing bookcase placed behind the desk, which almost covered an entire wall, for several minutes in complete silence.
Sophie Wilson was starting to worry, but before she could say anything, the detective shouted with elation: ‘Of course! It is that simple. That is the only rational explanation’. The raven-haired cop looked at Brandy House, with anticipation, waiting for her to elaborate like she always did. ‘Wilson, it was so evident that I do not know how everyone missed it! How do you think the criminal escaped?’, Det. House said. Visibly nervous, the young cop started to mumble, but Det. House quickly put and end to her ruminations. ‘She did not’, the brunette detective concluded triumphantly. Then, she explained her discovery: ‘look at the carpet, it is always the best clue. Flat shoes, like those you and the other cops wear, do not leave a print on the rug. However, my heels or the short-heeled boots that the criminal stole from the blonde federal agent do leave a print. If you pay attention, you can trace my steps around and the room and the criminal’s. The criminal walked into the room, went to the safe and she never left the room’.
This time, Sophie Wilson was more sceptical and the detective explanation did not completely convince her.
- ‘Really? How is that possible?’, she asked.
- Det. House was happy to satisfy the raven-haired policewoman curiosity. ‘From the safe, she walked towards the bookcase. Then, she retraced her steps a couple more times until she finally disappeared. She knew that the senator had a secret room and how to get there, although it was not easy to find. It took me a while, but I found out it too’, she explained, beaming with pride.
Then, the detective walked towards the bookcase and pulled the James Bible placed in the second shelf. Out of a sudden, the bookcase moved, revealing a secret stair which led to a room below the office. Looking at Sophie Wilson, the detective said: ‘Draw your weapon and follow me. The criminal awaits us’.
Brandy House quietly descended the stairs, followed by the young cop, whose heart raced with trepidation. After the stairs, the two women reached a wooden door. The brunette detective looked at Sophie Wilson to be sure that the rookie policewoman was ready, and opened it.
The senator’s secret chamber could be more accurately described as a dungeon. There were chains attached to the wall, some kind of torture rack, and every kind of bondage material one could imagine, from ropes and ball-gags to straitjackets and leather straps. However, that was not the most shocking discovery: two women were hanging upside-down, her ankles tied to the ceiling with rope.
A short and busty redhead in her late-twenties, with a round, cute face full of freckles had her hands handcuffed behind her back while a red ball-gag parted her sensual lips and tape covered her green eyes. She was wearing white with purple lilacs-printed bikini panties and a matching bra which hardly contained her generous A-cup breasts. Her navy-blue shirt had been unbuttoned and rolled down her arms, stuck at her wrists by the handcuffs. Next to her, there was a slim brunette with wavy hair and pale skin. The brunette had her wrists tied with rope behind her back and a big dark-purple ball-gag silenced her mouth while tape covered her hazel-coloured eyes. Like her partner, she had lost her clothes except for her underwear: she was wearing aquamarine lacy hip-hugging panties and a matching lacy bra with a white ribbon covered her peachy B-cup tits. Next to them, there were two piles of clothes. One included a black blazer, a black skirt, a white blouse, and the blonde federal agent’s badge, while the other was an incomplete police uniform: there was a pair of navy-blue pants, a black tie, black shoes and a black hat but the shirt was missing. It was not easy to figure out that it was the shirt rolled down the redhead’s arms.
Once the two captive women noticed someone had arrived, they started to wriggle and protest, trying to get the attention of their expected rescuers. They definitively got the attention of Brandy House. The detective, shocked by the discovery, and mesmerised by the swinging of the redhead’s impressive rack, was, for once, out of words. She was never wrong and she needed to process it.
A jovial Sophie Wilson raised her left hand and shouted: ‘I know this one! The criminal had time to open and empty safe in the few minutes spanning between the activation of the silent alarm and the arrival of the police. She hid in the secret chamber with the stolen goods and waited for the moment to strike. The redhead cop, Officer Mia O’Shea, arrived first and reported that the safe was open and that they had not found anyone. Then, the criminal stealthily emerged from the secret room and attacked the unsuspecting cop with a cloth soaked in chloroform. She dragged her body behind the desk and started to undress her. She took her black shoes, her grey socks and peeled off her navy-blue panties. Without time to admire her white with purple lilacs-printed bikini panties and curvaceous body, she loosened her tie, and unbuttoned her navy-blue shirt, revealing her impressive breasts, only covered by the matching white with purple lilacs-printed bra. However, her partner, Sophie Wilson arrived. Without time to hide, the criminal decided to use her stolen clothes and pretend to be a federal agent. She tried to persuade the newly-arrived cop that everything was some kind of drill but, suddenly, Mia O’Shea partly regained consciousness, and half-dizzy, tried to alert her partner. You were right, detective, redheads are more resistant to anaesthesia and chloroform. It did not save her and her partner, though. The criminal was faster and punched the brunette cop in the stomach, making her fold. Then, it was easy to pinch her neck and knock her out. After that, she handcuffed the redheaded cop with her own cuffs before she fully awoke and took both policewomen inside the room, where she undressed Sophie Wilson and hanged them upside-down, tying their ankles with rope to the ceiling. Once the two cops were bound and gagged in their underwear, it was not hard for the criminal to dress up as a policewoman with the stolen uniform, emerge from the secret room and blend with the rest of the police officers, as by now the property was flooded with cops’. After she concluded her long speech, the fake Sophie Wilson drew her gun at Brandy House.
- ‘Elementary, my dear Wilson’, the brunette detective said with resignation, raising her hands in defeat.
Then, the fake policewoman took her radio and called Lt. Boulder.
- ‘Sir, after a thorough search the detective agrees with the initial assessment and considers that the perpetrator or perpetrators escaped towards the lake. She says that her work here is done and asks for permission to leave unless you think she might be of help’, the impersonator said.
- ‘Did she find any clues about the whereabouts of the missing women?’, the lieutenant asked.
- ‘Negative, sir’, the fake Sophie Wilson answered.
- ‘Fucking cunt! What a fucking waste of time! Wilson, tell her that her driver will be waiting for her at the door. I am going to the lake to supervise the search in person. The forensics team will start working on the house now that you are done, wait there for further instructions’, Craig Boulder concluded.
Looking at Brandy House, the criminal said: ‘Det. House, you are a smart cookie, so you know what comes next’. Without uttering a word, the ashamed detective started to undress, taking off her grey wool blazer and unbuttoning her black shirt, while a chorus of muffled complaints, swearing and insults filled the senator’s secret chamber. The captured policewomen, could not see what was happening, but they correctly figured out that they would have to wait longer to be rescued.
The two women inspected the nearby rooms, but Brandy House did not find anything worth of noting. Finally, the detective decided to walk towards the senator’s office, where the safe was. The fate of the second federal agent bothered her. The criminal did not know about her and that was surprising: it was the first time that her intel was not correct. ‘It could be a coincidence, do not start to speculate and focus on interpreting the available evidence’, Det. House told herself.
Walking through a long hallway, Brandy House was analysing every detail, searching for clues, when she breathed with relief.
- ‘Ok, now I know what happened to the second federal agent’, she said, pointing to the carpet, and to a slightly crooked picture on the wall.
- Sophie Wilson looked alternatively at the carpet and at the detective. After a few seconds she asked: ‘Could you, please, elaborate, madam?’.
- Det. House breathed with resignation, frustrated that the young cop could not see things as clearly as she did. ‘Look at the carpet, there are prints from short-heeled shoes starting here, she said, pointing to a door. The criminal was wearing trainers, so those prints were the federal agent’s. She opened the door and accidentally ran into the false maid. After a few seconds of doubt, she realised that the woman was an impostor who had stolen the cleaner’s uniform, so she jumped her. However, our criminal knows how to fight, so she used the agent’s inertia to threw her to that wall, causing that picture to move. Then, the criminal knocked the agent out with a deft blow and dragged her unconscious body through that door, Brandy House concluded, pointing to some revealing marks on the carpet.
- After a few seconds of awe, Sophie Wilson answered: ‘Sorry for being repetitive, madam, but if I had seen it with my own eyes, I would not have been able to describe it better. What you say makes total sense, I am sorry I could not see it before’.
- ‘It is alright, you are learning’, the detective replied, with a patronizing smile.
- ‘That door leaves to the basement. We already checked it out and we did not find anything. Maybe we should go directly to the senator’s office, madam, the lieutenant must we getting impatient.
- Det. House dismissed that thought and replied: ‘I thought you were having fun! Why the rush all of a sudden? I need to know that I was right. Moreover, it is very likely that the second federal agent has regained her consciousness by now, so it might be easier to find her’.
Once again, Det. House was proven right. The two women did not need to search the basement for the missing federal agent, she made herself notice. The moment the two officers of the law switched on the basement’s light, they heard a loud noise coming from a big trash can. When they opened the lid they obviously found the missing federal agent. Clarice Hawk was a pretty, slim blonde in her mid-twenties, with medium-length hair and green eyes. The agent had her hands tied behind her thighs, forcing her to curl and severely limiting her mobility. To add salt to the injury, Clarice Hawk was completely naked. Her white and blue-striped bra was lying on the floor, next to the now useless maid uniform and a pair of grey trainers. The agent’s matching panties were stuffed in her mouth, held by Clarice’s own black pantyhose. It seemed evident that the criminal was angry for their brusque encounter, so stealing the federal agent’s clothes was not punishment enough, she had to further humiliate her.
After being found, the federal agent’s initial mixture of embarrassment and relief was replaced by unmitigated fury. She violently wriggled and shouted, looking intently at both the detective and the policewoman, but the white and blue-striped panties stuffed in her mouth muffled her voice, making her words incomprehensible. Once again, Det House spent a few too many seconds devouring the tied-up woman with her eyes. Clarice’s slim body and perky C-tits were a pleasant sight. Once again, Sophie Wilson’s voice broke the spell.
- ‘Shall we continue, madam? I am sure you do not want to hear any subjective commentary that could condition your train of thought’, the policewoman asked.
- ‘Yes, of course’, the detective automatically answered, trying to hide her embarrassment for staring too much to the blonde agent’s enticing naked body.
The furious federal agent could only yell in frustration, red with rage, when Sophie Wilson waved her hand saying goodbye and closed the lid of the trash can.
Finally, the detective and the policewoman arrived to the senator’s office, the centre of the mystery. The room offered a striking view, that could not be denied. The walls were painted in red and the desk chair and the sofa were upholstered with red velvet too. Obviously, the floor was carpeted with red rug. Det. House lost no time in inspecting the room for clues. She spent a couple of minutes staring at the safe, open and empty, walked around the room, calculating distances, and checked the doors and windows. Then, she stared at an amazing bookcase placed behind the desk, which almost covered an entire wall, for several minutes in complete silence.
Sophie Wilson was starting to worry, but before she could say anything, the detective shouted with elation: ‘Of course! It is that simple. That is the only rational explanation’. The raven-haired cop looked at Brandy House, with anticipation, waiting for her to elaborate like she always did. ‘Wilson, it was so evident that I do not know how everyone missed it! How do you think the criminal escaped?’, Det. House said. Visibly nervous, the young cop started to mumble, but Det. House quickly put and end to her ruminations. ‘She did not’, the brunette detective concluded triumphantly. Then, she explained her discovery: ‘look at the carpet, it is always the best clue. Flat shoes, like those you and the other cops wear, do not leave a print on the rug. However, my heels or the short-heeled boots that the criminal stole from the blonde federal agent do leave a print. If you pay attention, you can trace my steps around and the room and the criminal’s. The criminal walked into the room, went to the safe and she never left the room’.
This time, Sophie Wilson was more sceptical and the detective explanation did not completely convince her.
- ‘Really? How is that possible?’, she asked.
- Det. House was happy to satisfy the raven-haired policewoman curiosity. ‘From the safe, she walked towards the bookcase. Then, she retraced her steps a couple more times until she finally disappeared. She knew that the senator had a secret room and how to get there, although it was not easy to find. It took me a while, but I found out it too’, she explained, beaming with pride.
Then, the detective walked towards the bookcase and pulled the James Bible placed in the second shelf. Out of a sudden, the bookcase moved, revealing a secret stair which led to a room below the office. Looking at Sophie Wilson, the detective said: ‘Draw your weapon and follow me. The criminal awaits us’.
Brandy House quietly descended the stairs, followed by the young cop, whose heart raced with trepidation. After the stairs, the two women reached a wooden door. The brunette detective looked at Sophie Wilson to be sure that the rookie policewoman was ready, and opened it.
The senator’s secret chamber could be more accurately described as a dungeon. There were chains attached to the wall, some kind of torture rack, and every kind of bondage material one could imagine, from ropes and ball-gags to straitjackets and leather straps. However, that was not the most shocking discovery: two women were hanging upside-down, her ankles tied to the ceiling with rope.
A short and busty redhead in her late-twenties, with a round, cute face full of freckles had her hands handcuffed behind her back while a red ball-gag parted her sensual lips and tape covered her green eyes. She was wearing white with purple lilacs-printed bikini panties and a matching bra which hardly contained her generous A-cup breasts. Her navy-blue shirt had been unbuttoned and rolled down her arms, stuck at her wrists by the handcuffs. Next to her, there was a slim brunette with wavy hair and pale skin. The brunette had her wrists tied with rope behind her back and a big dark-purple ball-gag silenced her mouth while tape covered her hazel-coloured eyes. Like her partner, she had lost her clothes except for her underwear: she was wearing aquamarine lacy hip-hugging panties and a matching lacy bra with a white ribbon covered her peachy B-cup tits. Next to them, there were two piles of clothes. One included a black blazer, a black skirt, a white blouse, and the blonde federal agent’s badge, while the other was an incomplete police uniform: there was a pair of navy-blue pants, a black tie, black shoes and a black hat but the shirt was missing. It was not easy to figure out that it was the shirt rolled down the redhead’s arms.
Once the two captive women noticed someone had arrived, they started to wriggle and protest, trying to get the attention of their expected rescuers. They definitively got the attention of Brandy House. The detective, shocked by the discovery, and mesmerised by the swinging of the redhead’s impressive rack, was, for once, out of words. She was never wrong and she needed to process it.
A jovial Sophie Wilson raised her left hand and shouted: ‘I know this one! The criminal had time to open and empty safe in the few minutes spanning between the activation of the silent alarm and the arrival of the police. She hid in the secret chamber with the stolen goods and waited for the moment to strike. The redhead cop, Officer Mia O’Shea, arrived first and reported that the safe was open and that they had not found anyone. Then, the criminal stealthily emerged from the secret room and attacked the unsuspecting cop with a cloth soaked in chloroform. She dragged her body behind the desk and started to undress her. She took her black shoes, her grey socks and peeled off her navy-blue panties. Without time to admire her white with purple lilacs-printed bikini panties and curvaceous body, she loosened her tie, and unbuttoned her navy-blue shirt, revealing her impressive breasts, only covered by the matching white with purple lilacs-printed bra. However, her partner, Sophie Wilson arrived. Without time to hide, the criminal decided to use her stolen clothes and pretend to be a federal agent. She tried to persuade the newly-arrived cop that everything was some kind of drill but, suddenly, Mia O’Shea partly regained consciousness, and half-dizzy, tried to alert her partner. You were right, detective, redheads are more resistant to anaesthesia and chloroform. It did not save her and her partner, though. The criminal was faster and punched the brunette cop in the stomach, making her fold. Then, it was easy to pinch her neck and knock her out. After that, she handcuffed the redheaded cop with her own cuffs before she fully awoke and took both policewomen inside the room, where she undressed Sophie Wilson and hanged them upside-down, tying their ankles with rope to the ceiling. Once the two cops were bound and gagged in their underwear, it was not hard for the criminal to dress up as a policewoman with the stolen uniform, emerge from the secret room and blend with the rest of the police officers, as by now the property was flooded with cops’. After she concluded her long speech, the fake Sophie Wilson drew her gun at Brandy House.
- ‘Elementary, my dear Wilson’, the brunette detective said with resignation, raising her hands in defeat.
Then, the fake policewoman took her radio and called Lt. Boulder.
- ‘Sir, after a thorough search the detective agrees with the initial assessment and considers that the perpetrator or perpetrators escaped towards the lake. She says that her work here is done and asks for permission to leave unless you think she might be of help’, the impersonator said.
- ‘Did she find any clues about the whereabouts of the missing women?’, the lieutenant asked.
- ‘Negative, sir’, the fake Sophie Wilson answered.
- ‘Fucking cunt! What a fucking waste of time! Wilson, tell her that her driver will be waiting for her at the door. I am going to the lake to supervise the search in person. The forensics team will start working on the house now that you are done, wait there for further instructions’, Craig Boulder concluded.
Looking at Brandy House, the criminal said: ‘Det. House, you are a smart cookie, so you know what comes next’. Without uttering a word, the ashamed detective started to undress, taking off her grey wool blazer and unbuttoning her black shirt, while a chorus of muffled complaints, swearing and insults filled the senator’s secret chamber. The captured policewomen, could not see what was happening, but they correctly figured out that they would have to wait longer to be rescued.
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Torreken
- Posts: 106
- Joined: Thu Mar 12, 2020 9:20 pm
Re: A Study in Red: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery
***
Craig Boulder entered the room in a foul mood. It had been two days since the robbery at the senator’s house and he had spent all that time giving explanations to their superiors, to the Police Commissioner and now the feds. They all looked like fools and a scapegoat was needed. The lieutenant’s hope was that he was not important enough to play that role.
In the room, four federal agents waited for him, all women. The lieutenant smiled at Special Agent Meadow Corradi and Clarice Hawk, making them blush. The two agents had been rescued by the police not long after the criminal escaped and Craig Boulder remembered them too well. The curvy brunette was found wearing black pantyhose and a dishevelled shirt, so the lieutenant got a peek of her racy led lingerie. Her partner had been less fortunate: the slim blonde was stark naked, tied-up inside a trash can, when the police finally found her.
The veteran cop then stared at the two leading officers, Special Agent Lydia Wallace, a pretty, slim brunette with brown eyes, and Sonia Hernandez, a shorter, more curvaceous Latina with curly black hair and dark-brown eyes. Craig Boulder had never met them, but he kind of knew them, as he had watched the many videos and photos of their misadventures with the famous Ursula Volkanov which could easily be found on the Internet. It was the first time he saw them fully clothed though, but they looked very sexy in any case.
The federal agents asked the lieutenant to sit, but he refused, saying that their chat would not take long.
- ‘I agree, our time is too precious to lose it with bullshit. Believe or not, lieutenant, we understand your position: you were given an impossible task and now your superiors want to hold you responsible for a debacle’, Lydia Wallace said emphatically. Then, the brunette sat on her chair, and slowly crossed her legs, giving Craig Boulder a glimpse of her well-toned thighs encased in black pantyhose and the purple tanga panties she was wearing underneath them.
- The cop, now more receptive, sat, ready to talk. ‘I agree, let’s do this quickly. I was on my way to the lake, when one of my men called me: they had found the military sergeant and her driver’.
- ‘Sergeant Elizabeth Reed and Private Victoria Tyrell were found inside their SUV’s trunk, correct?’, Agent Wallace asked.
- ‘That is correct. Then, we started to find the other missing women, the two security guards, the maids, your two colleagues here…’, Craig Bould answered, making Agent Corradi and Agent Hawk to blush with embarrassment one more time.
- ‘What did you do next?’, the brunette agent inquired.
- ‘I tried to find Sophie Wilson or the woman I thought I was Officer Wilson and tried to reach Det. House. No luck’, the cop explained.
- ‘When did you realise that the criminal had stolen Sophie Wilson’s uniform to impersonate a cop first and, later, escaped dressed up with Det. House’s clothes?’, Agent Wallace continued.
- ‘I thought something was off, but I am not that smart, to be honest. I only found out when they discovered the rookie cop who had driven Det. House to the senator’s house bound and gagged in her underwear in the forest’, Craig Boulder detailed.
- ‘You mean Officer Jennifer Macpherson?’, the brunette agent asked.
- ‘I guess. It was a curvy blonde with blue eyes. Early twenties, pretty and voluptuous, but not very bright. She said that she was so scared of her boss that she had barely looked at Det. House when she picked her up, so she did not notice that the woman who got back on the car wearing her clothes, a grey wool skirt, matching blazer, black shirt and heels, was not the real detective. Three minutes after they left, the criminal asked her to stop the car for a second before pressing a cloth soaked with chloroform to her face. The criminal stole the vehicle and the blonde policewoman’s uniform, leaving the blonde cop in her underwear, tied-up to a tree with her mouth gagged with tape. I recall she was wearing cute black cheeky panties and a matching lacy semi-transparent bra’, the lieutenant explained with detail.
- ‘Lieutenant, all those appreciations are unnecessary’, Agent Wallace curtly said.
- ‘You know that our reports need to include the description of the underwear (if any) the victims of a clothes-stealing crime were wearing’, the cop fought back.
- ‘Yes, but only in the case of women’, Lydia Wallace said with resentment, realising that the initial connection with the lieutenant was now gone.
- ‘I just follow the rules’, Craig Boulder said, smiling.
- ‘Ok, let’s wrap this up. What happened next?’, the brunette agent asked.
- ‘We searched the entire house, but we could not find the missing policewomen and the real detective House until the senator arrived’, Lt. Boulder explained.
- ‘Did she reveal her secret chamber to everyone?’, Agent Wallace asked with scepticism.
- ‘No, no, only she and I got in there. She pushed some book from the bookcase and led me to her ‘private office’ as she called it. There, we found Officers Mia O’Shea and the real Sophie Wilson hanging upside-down from the ceiling, with their hands and ankles tied. I clearly recall that the redheaded policewoman was wearing white with purple lilacs-printed bikini panties and matching bra and that her tits were amazing. The partner, a slim brunette, was wearing aquamarine lacy hip-hugging panties and a matching lacy bra with a white ribbon. My memory is still very good despite my age’, the cop proudly detailed.
- ‘What about Det. House?’, the brunette agent inquired, angrily breathing.
- ‘Yes, she was there too. Arrogant cunt. It brought me some comfort to find the stupid bitch in such a humiliating position. She was bent over a table, with her round ass on display, only covered by a black thong. Her legs, encased in black stockings were opened apart, as her ankles were tied to each of the table’s legs. Her wrists were tied behind her back and another coil of rope circled her neck. It did not choke her, but it was enough to prevent her from standing straight. Her massive tits were covered by a lacy black bra, but they juggled rhythmically as the detective squirmed, trying in vain to escape her bonds. Finally, a blue ball-gag silenced her mouth: a good choice. Using tape would have been a pity considering her luscious curly hair. To be honest, considering all the equipment the senator had in her secret chamber, it is a pity that the criminal did not use a dildo or force her to ride a sybian….’, Lt. Boulder explained with obvious gusto.
- Lydia Wallace abruptly interrupted the lieutenant’s completely inappropriate tirade: ‘That will be more than enough. Please, leave now, lieutenant’.
Once Craig Boulder left. Lydia Wallace spoke to her team: ‘Well, this has not been a complete loss of time’.
- ‘Do you think that the lieutenant suspects anything? He might find strange that Corradi and I were working the case, considering we were part of the senator’s detail’, Clarice Hawk said.
- ‘No, he is too dumb. He only paid attention to Wallace’s legs and my tetas’, Sonia Hernández intervened.
- ‘I agree with Hernández. In any case, it does not matter: you two no longer need to work undercover. Once you planted the tracking device on the senator’s memory sticks which were stolen, we do not need to investigate her anymore’, Lydia Wallace said to the younger agents.
- ‘Are you sure, Wallace? The senator has other secrets besides her dungeon’, Corradi asked.
- ‘Yes, but it is not our business. The senator is a hypocrite and a terrible politician, but it is evident now that she is not in Mr. I’s pocket. That is why he orchestrated this robbery, so he could help one of his minions in the upcoming presidential primaries. With all that sensitive information in his power and the reputational backslash she will suffer after this, the senator’s career is dead’, Wallace insisted.
- ‘Why Mr. I did not send Volkanov to do the job? She is the best’, Sonia Hernandez asked.
- ‘Mr. I send “a” Volkanov, but not our nemesis. I think he send her younger sister, Nadia’, Wallace confidently affirmed.
- ‘What? No way. I thought her sister was a straight citizen’ Hernandez replied.
- ‘The description fits, and the modus operandi does too. Also, I have been investigating her since we started building the case against Ursula and I found out that Nadia and her wife desperately need the money. Besides their college debt, the wife’s medical bills are astronomical. My hypothesis, and I think I am right, is that Mr. I contacted and trained Nadia Volkanov to join her sister’s team and this was a test for her’, Wallace argued.
- ‘If that is true, Ursula will not be happy to hear that her little sis is joining the family business’, Hernandez stated.
- ‘She will be unhappier when she discovers that we are tracking her sister’s steps, waiting for a family reunion. This time we are the huntresses, ladies’, Wallace concluded, looking at her team with a resolved look.
Craig Boulder entered the room in a foul mood. It had been two days since the robbery at the senator’s house and he had spent all that time giving explanations to their superiors, to the Police Commissioner and now the feds. They all looked like fools and a scapegoat was needed. The lieutenant’s hope was that he was not important enough to play that role.
In the room, four federal agents waited for him, all women. The lieutenant smiled at Special Agent Meadow Corradi and Clarice Hawk, making them blush. The two agents had been rescued by the police not long after the criminal escaped and Craig Boulder remembered them too well. The curvy brunette was found wearing black pantyhose and a dishevelled shirt, so the lieutenant got a peek of her racy led lingerie. Her partner had been less fortunate: the slim blonde was stark naked, tied-up inside a trash can, when the police finally found her.
The veteran cop then stared at the two leading officers, Special Agent Lydia Wallace, a pretty, slim brunette with brown eyes, and Sonia Hernandez, a shorter, more curvaceous Latina with curly black hair and dark-brown eyes. Craig Boulder had never met them, but he kind of knew them, as he had watched the many videos and photos of their misadventures with the famous Ursula Volkanov which could easily be found on the Internet. It was the first time he saw them fully clothed though, but they looked very sexy in any case.
The federal agents asked the lieutenant to sit, but he refused, saying that their chat would not take long.
- ‘I agree, our time is too precious to lose it with bullshit. Believe or not, lieutenant, we understand your position: you were given an impossible task and now your superiors want to hold you responsible for a debacle’, Lydia Wallace said emphatically. Then, the brunette sat on her chair, and slowly crossed her legs, giving Craig Boulder a glimpse of her well-toned thighs encased in black pantyhose and the purple tanga panties she was wearing underneath them.
- The cop, now more receptive, sat, ready to talk. ‘I agree, let’s do this quickly. I was on my way to the lake, when one of my men called me: they had found the military sergeant and her driver’.
- ‘Sergeant Elizabeth Reed and Private Victoria Tyrell were found inside their SUV’s trunk, correct?’, Agent Wallace asked.
- ‘That is correct. Then, we started to find the other missing women, the two security guards, the maids, your two colleagues here…’, Craig Bould answered, making Agent Corradi and Agent Hawk to blush with embarrassment one more time.
- ‘What did you do next?’, the brunette agent inquired.
- ‘I tried to find Sophie Wilson or the woman I thought I was Officer Wilson and tried to reach Det. House. No luck’, the cop explained.
- ‘When did you realise that the criminal had stolen Sophie Wilson’s uniform to impersonate a cop first and, later, escaped dressed up with Det. House’s clothes?’, Agent Wallace continued.
- ‘I thought something was off, but I am not that smart, to be honest. I only found out when they discovered the rookie cop who had driven Det. House to the senator’s house bound and gagged in her underwear in the forest’, Craig Boulder detailed.
- ‘You mean Officer Jennifer Macpherson?’, the brunette agent asked.
- ‘I guess. It was a curvy blonde with blue eyes. Early twenties, pretty and voluptuous, but not very bright. She said that she was so scared of her boss that she had barely looked at Det. House when she picked her up, so she did not notice that the woman who got back on the car wearing her clothes, a grey wool skirt, matching blazer, black shirt and heels, was not the real detective. Three minutes after they left, the criminal asked her to stop the car for a second before pressing a cloth soaked with chloroform to her face. The criminal stole the vehicle and the blonde policewoman’s uniform, leaving the blonde cop in her underwear, tied-up to a tree with her mouth gagged with tape. I recall she was wearing cute black cheeky panties and a matching lacy semi-transparent bra’, the lieutenant explained with detail.
- ‘Lieutenant, all those appreciations are unnecessary’, Agent Wallace curtly said.
- ‘You know that our reports need to include the description of the underwear (if any) the victims of a clothes-stealing crime were wearing’, the cop fought back.
- ‘Yes, but only in the case of women’, Lydia Wallace said with resentment, realising that the initial connection with the lieutenant was now gone.
- ‘I just follow the rules’, Craig Boulder said, smiling.
- ‘Ok, let’s wrap this up. What happened next?’, the brunette agent asked.
- ‘We searched the entire house, but we could not find the missing policewomen and the real detective House until the senator arrived’, Lt. Boulder explained.
- ‘Did she reveal her secret chamber to everyone?’, Agent Wallace asked with scepticism.
- ‘No, no, only she and I got in there. She pushed some book from the bookcase and led me to her ‘private office’ as she called it. There, we found Officers Mia O’Shea and the real Sophie Wilson hanging upside-down from the ceiling, with their hands and ankles tied. I clearly recall that the redheaded policewoman was wearing white with purple lilacs-printed bikini panties and matching bra and that her tits were amazing. The partner, a slim brunette, was wearing aquamarine lacy hip-hugging panties and a matching lacy bra with a white ribbon. My memory is still very good despite my age’, the cop proudly detailed.
- ‘What about Det. House?’, the brunette agent inquired, angrily breathing.
- ‘Yes, she was there too. Arrogant cunt. It brought me some comfort to find the stupid bitch in such a humiliating position. She was bent over a table, with her round ass on display, only covered by a black thong. Her legs, encased in black stockings were opened apart, as her ankles were tied to each of the table’s legs. Her wrists were tied behind her back and another coil of rope circled her neck. It did not choke her, but it was enough to prevent her from standing straight. Her massive tits were covered by a lacy black bra, but they juggled rhythmically as the detective squirmed, trying in vain to escape her bonds. Finally, a blue ball-gag silenced her mouth: a good choice. Using tape would have been a pity considering her luscious curly hair. To be honest, considering all the equipment the senator had in her secret chamber, it is a pity that the criminal did not use a dildo or force her to ride a sybian….’, Lt. Boulder explained with obvious gusto.
- Lydia Wallace abruptly interrupted the lieutenant’s completely inappropriate tirade: ‘That will be more than enough. Please, leave now, lieutenant’.
Once Craig Boulder left. Lydia Wallace spoke to her team: ‘Well, this has not been a complete loss of time’.
- ‘Do you think that the lieutenant suspects anything? He might find strange that Corradi and I were working the case, considering we were part of the senator’s detail’, Clarice Hawk said.
- ‘No, he is too dumb. He only paid attention to Wallace’s legs and my tetas’, Sonia Hernández intervened.
- ‘I agree with Hernández. In any case, it does not matter: you two no longer need to work undercover. Once you planted the tracking device on the senator’s memory sticks which were stolen, we do not need to investigate her anymore’, Lydia Wallace said to the younger agents.
- ‘Are you sure, Wallace? The senator has other secrets besides her dungeon’, Corradi asked.
- ‘Yes, but it is not our business. The senator is a hypocrite and a terrible politician, but it is evident now that she is not in Mr. I’s pocket. That is why he orchestrated this robbery, so he could help one of his minions in the upcoming presidential primaries. With all that sensitive information in his power and the reputational backslash she will suffer after this, the senator’s career is dead’, Wallace insisted.
- ‘Why Mr. I did not send Volkanov to do the job? She is the best’, Sonia Hernandez asked.
- ‘Mr. I send “a” Volkanov, but not our nemesis. I think he send her younger sister, Nadia’, Wallace confidently affirmed.
- ‘What? No way. I thought her sister was a straight citizen’ Hernandez replied.
- ‘The description fits, and the modus operandi does too. Also, I have been investigating her since we started building the case against Ursula and I found out that Nadia and her wife desperately need the money. Besides their college debt, the wife’s medical bills are astronomical. My hypothesis, and I think I am right, is that Mr. I contacted and trained Nadia Volkanov to join her sister’s team and this was a test for her’, Wallace argued.
- ‘If that is true, Ursula will not be happy to hear that her little sis is joining the family business’, Hernandez stated.
- ‘She will be unhappier when she discovers that we are tracking her sister’s steps, waiting for a family reunion. This time we are the huntresses, ladies’, Wallace concluded, looking at her team with a resolved look.
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simon4242
- Posts: 696
- Joined: Fri Jun 17, 2022 12:35 pm
Re: A Study in Red: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery
wonderful hope we will see more of the arrogant brandy and get to know the real sophie lol
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esercito sconfitto
- Posts: 7166
- Joined: Tue Jan 12, 2016 12:06 pm
Re: A Study in Red: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery
outstanding, totally outstanding.
I am speechless
it's something of the highest quality, something lifting this board up , to a different level
of course , Torreken , these stories can't be the first novels you write ...
just a straight question... the description of Brandy House was based on a real person, it couldn't be otherwise
Torreken , many heartfelt thanks for this masterwork
I am speechless
it's something of the highest quality, something lifting this board up , to a different level
of course , Torreken , these stories can't be the first novels you write ...
just a straight question... the description of Brandy House was based on a real person, it couldn't be otherwise
Torreken , many heartfelt thanks for this masterwork
-
Torreken
- Posts: 106
- Joined: Thu Mar 12, 2020 9:20 pm
-
Torreken
- Posts: 106
- Joined: Thu Mar 12, 2020 9:20 pm
Re: A Study in Red: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery
Thanks a lot for your kind words! I was really happy when I came up with the concept, so I really appreciate that you liked the story.esercito sconfitto wrote: ↑Sat Apr 08, 2023 8:48 am outstanding, totally outstanding.
I am speechless
it's something of the highest quality, something lifting this board up , to a different level
of course , Torreken , these stories can't be the first novels you write ...
just a straight question... the description of Brandy House was based on a real person, it couldn't be otherwise
Torreken , many heartfelt thanks for this masterwork
This is the first time I write fiction. I know some of the basic rules of storytelling, but I struggle a bit with sentence structuring and I recognize that the descriptions could be better sometimes.
You are right, Brandy House's physical description is based on the actress Brandy Doyle (from AES productions). The psychological part was, in short, Sherlock Holmes not being asexual
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simon4242
- Posts: 696
- Joined: Fri Jun 17, 2022 12:35 pm
Re: A Study in Red: A Uniform-Stealing Mystery
lol return to it when you can