Harry nodded, sagely.
"And, to the put the final twist on the S-bend, my dear doctor plumber, you and Miss Swat tracked down and appropriated Raoul's ill-gotten gains."
"What???!!"
Everyone turned to glare at the doctor, who shrank down into his chair. Miss Swat looked furious. Frippery's thin, sharp voice piped up.
"We're none of us guilt-free. Will wath thticking pinth in a voodoo doll of Raoul. In fact, it wath probably the voodoo that weakened him enough for the bullet wound to prove fatal. Raoul wath blackmailing us too. He dithcovered that I write fem-dom ficthion. Not the done thing for a Puker Prize winner. And he knew that Will likes to dreth up in a frock."
Harry grinned.
"Not the done thing for a pseudo Dominant who's trying to launch a macho pulp fiction career."
Boner's face went red, then quite white with anger but he remained silent. There was a faint sound of grinding dentures.
Harry carefully took the fetishes from a thoroughly frizzed-up Black Widow and gently laid them at his feet.
"So. You all done it. Will and Frip cast a black magic curse. Dunnett and Swat bribed an assassin to shoot a poison dart. Lily May might have had her way, if her little bullet hadn't ricocheted off the bongos and ended up embedded in one leg of the dessert trolley. But the Captain it was that really cracked him. It's always the quiet ones."
Captain Ahab bowed modestly, an enigmatic smile playing about his lips.
Inspector Parrott finally broke his silence, reaching into his shirt pocket for a cell '"phone.
"All we need is Charles Aznavour and we've got a remake of Murder On The Orient Express. They'll never believe this back at headquarters. Never in a million years…"
"Plenty of spare handcuffs down in the basement, Inspector."
I couldn't resist a quip. Inspector Parrott grinned and winked.
"Don't worry, Miss Lawrence. The gang isn't going anywhere. I have had Henryk's surrounded for the last half-hour. Mr. Neptune, I take my hat off to you, but I will confess that I wasn't too far behind the game."
Harry bowed in an egalitarian fashion.
"Elementary, my dear Parrott. Elementary."
I looked at the circle of guilty parties, their faces showing assorted degrees of resignation and/or anger. All was not yet over. I had my own personal retribution to achieve. I whispered my desire in Parrott's ear and watched him smirk briefly then nod in assent. Slowly, meaningfully, I walked over to Boner. My ex lover stared up at me with a mixture of curiosity and acrimony, as I stood before him, hands on hips. I chose my words carefully.
"So, you don't like pussy, eh?"
Will flushed, then began to look really annoyed.
"What are you going on about? This is hardly the time…"
I interrupted him, placing one foot upon his scrawny thigh.
"Oh, but it is, Wilberforce, my dear. There is no time like the present for a little, shall we say, initiation."
I smiled enigmatically as I overheard Harry calling for the Boobsy Twins. To be totally truthful, I really didn't care to do this little job myself, but I would set the ball rolling. As it were. Boner shrank back into his chair as Bambi and Botti swayed towards him, all endless bronzed thighs and heroic cleavage. Quick as a flash, Botti whipped a pair of handcuffs out from behind her back and clipped my ex's wrists to the legs of the chair. Harry commandeered the sound system and it wasn't long before the raunchy sounds of "The Stripper" filled the room. Boner scowled as the twins began to bump and grind, their tiny dresses (or miniscule shreds in Bambi's case) riding up over their broad, firm asses.
"Very funny. You know striptease does nothing for me, Jaylene. Never has done, never will."
"Just you wait, Will, sweetie."
Big boobs did nothing for Boner either. I recalled his joy when my hard work at the gym paid off to the extent of dropping a cup size. I was devastated, he almost danced a jig. I watched with satisfaction as Bambi expertly popped her tits out of the straining skintight bodice and squatted down to thrust them into my ex's face. He tried to avert his gaze but the Amazon grasped his grizzled head tightly in both hands and effortlessly thrust it between the big brown pillows of her breasts. Anyone but Boner would have been overjoyed to go that way, crushed beneath a mountain of firm, dusky boob flesh. There was a spluttering sound and he came up for air before being unceremoniously shoved back into the bouncy crevasse. Botti grinned and moved behind the victim's chair, then firmly clasped Boner's cranium as her sister stepped back a little, then began to tug at her skimpy panties. All eyes were fixed upon her as she slid the tiny G-string to her ankles then delicately stepped out of them. The music ground on and Bambi's hands strayed to her naked crotch, clearly visible beneath the hem of her dress. She was very wet, her labia as plump and moist as a dew-soaked tropical flower. Again and again, she squatted down before Boner, giving him a full frontal view of her hungry snatch. Her long painted talons teased her clit and she moaned loudly. Will sat upright and rigid, a look of utter horror and disgust on his face. For one moment, I almost felt sorry for him, then I remembered the voodoo doll business and my compassion dwindled. Time for some action.
"Pussy him, Bambi!"
With one big bump and grind, the groaning girl thrust her pussy against Boner's face and squirmed her hips up and down frantically. I could barely contain myself and cried out again.
"Ride his face!"
Bambi's broad brown buttocks worked furiously as her twin held my ex's head in a grip of steel. I watched him struggling violently, heard him grunt and gurgle, saw copious beads of sweat erupt from his forehead. Bambi continued to fuck his face with consummate glee, her tiny dress riding up to form nothing more than a broad shiny belt about her waist. Her boobs flopped heavily and rhythmically against her chest, she arched her spine and triumphantly yelled out a rousing climax. When she stepped back, Boner's face was wet, his eyes and mouth tightly closed. Pussy juice glistened from every corner of his face, forehead to chin to ear and ear. Revenge was sweet. Soon he would have to stop holding his breath and feminine essence would broach the barriers and conquer Boner Land.
"Thank you, darling. I needed that."
I tucked a fifty-dollar note into Bambi's cleavage and left the room without a backward glance.
"I wonder what kind of a sentence they'll receive."
Harry and I sat together on the deck of the Caribbean Conch, as it began its return journey to Fort Lauderdale with a substitute master at the helm. My partner shrugged.
"Gawd knows! I pity the judge. It'd certainly be fun to be a fly on the wall, "though."
I laughed as I watched the misty silhouette of the islands fade into the horizon.
"A literary cruise, indeed! We didn't attend a single lecture."
"Neither we did. Quel dommage. So, do you still want a divorce, Shortie, or are you content to stay half-hitched to Sherlock Neptune?"
"I'm not sure, darling. Tell me – how did you know that Frippery had the fetishes?"
Harry smiled.
"No great powers of deduction involved there, I'm afraid. I simply saw the silly bint surreptitiously stuffing them down her catsuit. She was trying to get Boner to beg for a doggie biscuit."
"I see. And what made you think they would reveal the truth so accurately?"
My husband looked thoughtful.
"I'm not sure. They were certainly potent. Remember the night we tried to throw them overboard? We were carried away, you and I, as if we were caught up in the eye of a storm. It was incredible but scary too. Somehow, I knew they'd get to the heart of the matter, one way or another."
"I see."
Quietly, I reached down and retrieved two familiar objects from my beach bag. Harry frowned.