“That must be when she unlatched the front door so the Venable dame could let herself in,” Rodriguez surmised. “Then what happened?”
“She showered. At one point she turned the water down low—I could see the flow-—and her lips moved as if she were shouting. Then she turned the shower up again and soaped herself with a washcloth. Oh, yes, the radio announced the time as eight o’clock while she’d been shouting.”
“That ties in with her version.” Rodriguez had an afterthought. “You mean you were watching this naked dish, playing with yourself, and listening lo the radio, too?” he asked disbelievingly.
“I wasn’t really listening. The time registered subliminally. The change in voices, I imagine.”
“Go on.”
“She finished showering and dried herself with a towel. Then she went into the bedroom, donned a sweater and slacks, and combed her hair.
“If she was dressed, how come you were still watching her?”
“I hadn’t climaxed yet.”
“Jesus! It must take you a long time!”
“I told you, Lieutenant. I have a problem. Doubtless you hold the world’s record for three-minute orgasm, but I have to take my time.”
“Never mind the sarcasm. What then?”
“She left the bedroom and returned almost immediately. This time she locked the door behind her. She seemed agitated. Very. She ran to the telephone and made a call. Then she simply sat there on the edge of the bed. Some time passed and finally she left the bedroom again. A few seconds later a uniformed police officer appeared. At that point, I stopped watching.
“And you still hadn’t got your rocks off?”
“Correct, Lieutenant. But then, policemen don’t stimulate me. So I gave up.”
“Go back to when she first got dressed and went into the living-room. How long was she gone?”
“No more than a minute or two,” Hubert Knotts told him.
“But long enough to slip the shiv into the girl!”
“Not if the victim put up any kind of a struggle. Did she?”
“Yeah,” Rodriguez admitted reluctantly. “She’d been hit on the jaw and they found some skin under her fingernails. Also a lamp was overturned.”
“And Miss Blue probably didn’t hear the struggle because the shower was running,” Knotts pointed out. “Well, that’s all I have to tell you, Lieutenant.” He Wheeled around to leave. “I hope I’ve been of service,” he added as he propelled himself towards the door.
“Oh, sure. I had a murder case all wrapped up, and now I’ve got nothing. Some service! Do me a favor, Mr. Knotts. From here on in, keep your eyes where they belong!”
But Hubert Knotts did no such thing. When he returned from a late United Nations session the next evening, he noticed that the lights were on and the blinds up in Regina Blue’s bedroom. He immediately reached for his binoculars.
As Knotts adjusted the focus, the bedroom door opened and Regina Blue appeared. She was wearing a mink cape over a full—length evening gown, long white gloves, and low-heeled dancing slippers. Hips swaying, she walked halfway into the bedroom and paused, facing the window.
She removed the mink, revealing the bare roundness of her shoulders. Her gown was dark green, simply but daringly styled, and covered with sparkling sequins. When Regina turned around, Knotts saw that the back was cut so low as to display the twin top half-moons of her derriere. In front, the top consisted only of two wide straps joined at the nape of her neck. They revealed the solid roundness of breast-flesh at the sides, but concealed the nipples. The gown was slit from hip to ankle on one side, setting up an exciting game of hide-and-seek with Regina’s shapely legs as she moved. It was one helluva dress!
She sat on the bed, crossing her legs. Knotts zeroed in on an enticing expanse of thigh. Slowly, making a sensual rite of it, she peeled off her gloves. Then she lay on her stomach, her chin propped on her hands, the straps hanging so that Knotts had a teasing view of ‘now-you-see-them-now—you-don’t’ nipples, as well as of her half-bated behind.
Knotts groaned and fumbled at his zipper.
She turned on her back and kicked off her silver slippers. Then, one at a time, luscious legs pointing straight up, she peeled off her stockings. As with the gloves, it took a long, provocative time.
Get a grip on yourself, man! And he did!
Now Regina stood and untied the straps. She held them in front of her, unloosed breasts swaying behind them in a blur of tantalizing motion. Finally she dropped them and immediately crossed her arms in front of her bosom coyly. She tossed her head so that her long, red-gold hair tumbled over her shoulders and breasts. Then she dropped her arms.
The tresses formed a partial, rippling screen. The strands revealed and covered her breast-tips as she moved her head. A long, quivering, bright red nipple peeped out from between them and then retreated. A curl wrapped itself around the other aureole, accenting the pinkness. Regina’s hands moved to her hips. A clasp was released. She swirled around, the doffed dress held first in front, and then in back of her like a bullfighter’s cape.
Knotts felt a sharp throb of lust swelling in his fist as she tossed the dress away. The binoculars were filled with her now: purse-lipped, proud-breasted figure, perfection arched brazenly in the briefest of silken bikini panties. Knott’s grip tightened.
Regina propped up some pillows and lay down on the bed, half-sitting. She turned slightly on one side, accenting the smooth plumpness of one hip, causing the skimpy panties to stretch tightly over one cheek of her behind. She slid her hand under the elastic and the fingers vanished deep in the crevice. After a moment she removed the panties altogether and lay flat on her stomach. Her naked derriere jutted straight up, trembling like jello, flushed from her exertions. Slowly it began moving up and down . . .
Knotts’ hand slowed to accommodate her rhythm. He marveled at the rigidity pulsating in his clenched fist.
The redhead turned over. Her thighs parted so that her lightly-muscled legs formed a wide V on the bed. She stroked the erect polyp of passion at the base of the V. Both breasts hobbled, fully visible now, as she strained to peer down at her lower parts. Then she cupped one of them, pushing upward. Her long neck bent and her tongue uncoiled from her lips like a serpent. Its tip traced the circle of the pink aureole, and then flicked the rigid, trembling nipple. She caught the nipple between her lips, holding it gently with her teeth, sticking hard. Two fingers of her hand were lost deep inside the V now.
Knotts became so excited that he accidentally released the brake of his wheelchair and went rolling across the floor. Cursing, he positioned himself again and relocked the wheels. Then he picked up his passion-heavy penis in one hand, his binoculars in the other, and refocused.
Just in time. Regina’s lower body arched off the bed like a taut bow. It thrust upward to meet her frantically active fingers. Her lips tore loose from the lust- tormented nipple and she flung her head back. A wordless cry of sustained rapture escaped her. She bounced with wild abandon at the mounting thrills of her approaching orgasm. And then it came . . . and she came . . .
And so did Hubert Knotts!
It possessed him so completely that it was a few moments before he came back to himself. When he finally did open his eyes, he found that they were still pressed to the binoculars. And the binoculars were still trained on Regina Blue’s bedroom. Still naked, she was standing right in front of the window now. She looked directly up at the windows of Hubert Knotts’ apartment. She smiled a warm smile.
And then Regina Blue did something very odd indeed. Just before she pulled down the shade, she blew a kiss to Hubert Knotts. It was an open acknowledgement that she knew he’d been watching, an admission that the entire performance was Regina’s way of telling him-—