The Quality of Mercy, Second Story

The Quality of Mercy, Second Story

The Affair of the Vanishing Vicar

Chapter One

It was a pleasant summer's evening and I was sitting in my favorite armchair I had turned to face the garden at the rear of my mews house in Chelsea, a significant addition to the property given the scarcity of land available for cultivation in central London. My house has been designed with a set of doors that open onto a patio area then into the green and pleasant plot in which I had planted roses, their seductive fragrance scenting the parlor.

What also scented the room was the sweet smell of my sperm which my darling wife Adele, kneeling between my legs, her glorious breasts uncovered above the lowered neckline of the fashionable lightweight dress she was wearing, had brought spurting in abundance from my highly stimulated ball sacs by the skillful application of her lips and tongue.

"Goodness, Frank," she said when she had ceased swallowing in order to breathe. "Try as I might I can never get used to the sheer quantity of sperm you produce when you climax. My tummy is quite full and even then you managed to send several fulsome spurts across my nose and cheeks." As testament to which statement she used her finger to gather the creamy blobs and bring them to her mouth where she licked them off with evident enjoyment.

"I am completely innocent, Adele my darling," I said, reaching down to stroke her raven tresses. "You have only to bare your sumptuous breasts and my prick stands harder than a flagpole."

"I noticed," Adele said with a sly wink, knowing it would be only moments before I was ready for her to straddle my lap, leaving it to her to decide which of her two delightful lower apertures she wished me to plunder.

I shall not waste time in this narrative relating the circumstances by which this beautiful woman was living with me, no longer as my housekeeper but now, to my very considerable happiness (and some surprise, my never having previously contemplated matrimony), my wife. The circumstances under which we met are covered at length in my memoir, 'The Affair of the Saxon Cross'.

Suffice it to say that when Adele's son Charley asked me if I would consent to giving him the hand of my granddaughter Henrietta in marriage, to which I agreed readily, Charley having proved a steadfast young man by giving up his errant ways and training to become member of the Metropolitan Constabulary, I decided it was the perfect opportunity to achieve a similar aim that would forever change my life for the better.

I therefore decided to take advantage of the occasion of the engagement celebration and, before the assembled gathering of Hetty and Charley, my close friend and former colleague Tom Adams and his wife Elizabeth, ask Adele if she would do me the honor of becoming my wife to which she blushed prettily, tears of joy in her eyes, and said yes, that make her ecstatically happy.

My delight in her ready acceptance was compounded later that evening when, Tom and Elizabeth having bid us adieu, Adele initiated a sexual encounter that included Charley and myself, Hetty and my beautiful wife, Charley ensconced in Adele's cunt while I labored in her back passage and Hetty applying her lips and tongue with great enthusiasm to the point where both of our rampant pricks entered Adele's body, her fingers thrumming her clitoris with absolute delight. If you have never experienced the utter delight of being one of four people climaxing in incestuous simultaneous orgasm I can heartily recommend it...

Returning to the present, Adele climbed to her feet, her beautiful bare breasts bouncing and jiggling as she went to the drinks tray and poured herself a dry sherry with which to wash down the abundant sperm I had deposited down her throat. My cock still bared, I found it impossible to resist moving to stand behind her so I could fill my hands to overflowing with the sublime softness of her immense bosom, her nipples standing proud of the surrounding areolae, which I fondled gently with my fingers to heighten her arousal.

"Frank Tench you are incorrigible," Adele said with a throaty laugh. "Cannot a girl even help herself to a drink in this house without being molested?"

I put my mouth against her ear and closed my teeth on the lobe, biting it softly and I felt her shudder with excitement, confirmed by her pressing her curvaceous bottom back against my prick which was enveloped delightfully by the deep furrow.

"You are not a 'girl'" I said, in a fierce whisper and waited for her to turn toward me in surprise at the hurtful nature of my remark. As she did so my eyes met hers and I purred, "You are a sublimely beautiful woman to whom I have the lasting good fortune to be married so by law I can take you as I please, whenever I please. And I mean to have you right now."

A huge smile crossed Adele's face and she nodded, bending forward at the waist so I might choose which hole in her body I wished to breach, although she knew very well which was my preference.

Without hesitation I pulled the material of her dress up to her waist and hissed with pleasure at finding her quite naked beneath. It was a simply stunning sight and I got to my knees, intent on worshipping the object of my greatest desire as much as her enormous bosom, namely the plump rondures of her delectable bottom. To my intense delight, Adele reached behind herself to pull open the cheeks of this temple of delight, exposing the tiny opening of her rosehole, winking with anticipation at being stretched wide by my invading prick.

I was delighted to discover her cunt was awash with her cream which I slurped into my mouth and swallowed, its piquant flavor more delicious than the finest wine. Adele signaled her enjoyment of what I was doing by placing her hand on the back of my head, using it to push my face hard against her spread cuntlips and fragrant asshole, desperate to feel my tongue thrust as far as possible past the tight muscle of her anal sphincter and into her rectum. I willingly did as she demanded until, with great satisfaction, I heard her squeal in ecstasy and squirm her bottom even harder against my invading tongue, a flood of her sweet honey pouring into my mouth which I swallowed eagerly.

"Oh Fraaank," Adele sighed in satiated desire. "That was heavenly..." and I would have been happy to allow her a few moments to recover if I were not so impatient to fuck her bumholes deeply and forcefully. I stood and crammed my cock into the depths of her cunt making her cry out in shock, surprise and delight, pumping my rod back and forth until I felt my shaft liberally coated with a fresh flood of her thick cream which meant she had climaxed and I now had sufficient lubricant coating the head and shaft to achieve what I craved.

I withdrew my cock, set the head at the opening of her ass and pushed, slowly but firmly, until the tight muscle surrendered and accepted my glans, followed, to our mutual delight, by the remainder of my shaft until my prick was buried in the tight heat of her bowels. Once again my beloved Adele had willingly surrendered her back passage to my lust and we both savored every second of the extreme satisfaction it afforded us both.

For long moments the only sound in the room was of two lovers lost in the bliss of rutting, me thrusting my cock repeatedly into the slick depths of Adele's receptive rectum, she moaning with pleasure at the waves of ecstasy set off in her cunt by my cock sliding back and forth in the adjoining passage, one moment sinking deep into her bowels, the next withdrawn until only her anal sphincter was clasped tight round my glans, milking my sperm from deep in my balls. Fondling her immense bare breasts, my lips sought hers in a passionate kiss then moved down to bite the soft skin of her neck and shoulders, my groin ramming repeatedly against her divine buttocks making them wobble delightfully with each thrust. The pleasure I felt from working my prick back and forth in Adele's asshole was too great for me to be able to delay my orgasm for long; the moment I felt her rectal walls spasm in climax along the length of my shaft I cried out, my own release upon me.

"Come in my mouth, Frank!" Adele urged, arching her body so my ejaculating prick was withdrawn from the confines of her asshole. She knelt, opened her mouth and swallowed me down to the balls which once more emptied their precious cargo down her throat, waves of ecstasy washing over me until I was spent.

I helped Adele to her feet as she manfully struggled to swallow my sperm once more.

"Goodness," she said, reaching for her sherry. "There was even more that time..."

I took her in my arms and kissed her, the glass in her hand pressed against the luscious vastness of her bosom making her laugh, Adele well knowing how much pleasure I take in sharing the taste of my ejaculate with her.

"Hardly my fault, my dear," I said. "I appear to be harboring a female succubus in our quiet little mews, one who appears insatiable when it comes to having her divine ass thoroughly fucked..."

"What can I say, Detective-Inspector," Adele said, batting her eyelashes at me. "I am a weak woman, prey to the monster of depravity I married."

"And thank God for that," I said and both of us laughed with pleasure and happiness.

*

The following morning I was sitting in the kitchen enjoying breakfast when Adele appeared carrying a letter. She was wearing a full-length silk robe I had bought her from Harrods which was almost entirely transparent over her breasts, the reason I chose it.

"Adele," I protested. "You surely did not greet our postman dressed like that! Apart from giving him an uncomfortable erection you would have scandalized our neighbors going to work or their nannies taking young children to the park..."

"Oh don't be so stuffy, Frank," she said with a happy laugh. "Since Hetty became engaged the poor post boy is no longer able to ogle her pretty little bosoms so I thought I would make up for it."

"More than adequately," I said but shook my head so she would see I was neither serious nor particularly concerned. Like me, Adele derives erotic stimulation from indulging in carnal activities in public, notably the first time I fucked her in every hole being on a train to Cambridge in full view of passengers waiting to alight at the various stations along the route.

Adele sat and sipped tea as she read the letter she had received. She knew my curiosity would be piqued because she rarely received correspondence.

"It's from the Duchess of Danbury," she said. "Or my dear Victoria Worthington as she once was."

"Hmm?"

"Apparently she's got herself into a spot of bother and asks if I would approach you for help on her behalf."

"Does she elaborate?"

"No. She's says that, should we be free and she apologizes for the short notice, we might like to spend this weekend at Danbury Hall in Norfolk where she will explain all."

"Will the Duke be there?"

"I doubt it," Adele said with a small smile. "Lionel is an inveterate gambler and it's race week at Longchamp in Paris. He will be occupying a suite at the Ritz so he can watch his fillies perform, both on the track and in bed..."

"Poor Vicky," I said, shaking my head on the assumption she was a wronged wife.

"Goodness, she's never that," Adele said, laughing. "Vicky is a former courtesan of great renown. She was the mistress of a member of the Royal Family until Lionel Danbury won her in a game of baccarat. Vicky was so annoyed at having been wagered she accepted him immediately even though it would mean spending six months of the year living in the wilds of Norfolk. I gather she rather liked the thought of being Lady of the Manor so when Lionel decided to make an honest woman out of her she said yes with some alacrity thereby gaining the title of Duchess, Lionel, his racehorses and his money. The Dowager Duchess of Danbury was so scandalized at having a former courtesan for a daughter-in-law she decamped to the Principality of Monaco and hasn't spoken to them since."

"Very flat, Norfolk, as I recall," I said, pouring myself more tea.

"Don't be infuriating Frank," Adele said with some asperity. "You know how much I want to see Vicky, surely."

"My keen policeman's intuition might have deduced that possibility, yes," I said with a sly grin and a raised eyebrow. "And what exactly do I receive in return for cancelling all my important engagements (Adele knew I had none) in order to come to the rescue of your cherished friend?"

"Oh alright," Adele said. "But what the postman only glimpsed you get to see in all their glory." She untied the ribbon holding together the front of her robe, drew it open very slowly so first her deep cleavage and then the entirety of her immense bosom was exposed.

Pausing to ensure I was watching with rapt attention, she reached out to the jar of honey open on the table and twirled a strand of the golden liquid round a finger then anointed the taut tip of first one nipple then the other. I sighed with delight when she cupped her hand under her breast and brought the now sweetened pink tip to her lips, opened her mouth and sucked in as much as she could, closing her eyes in rapture. I saw no more after that. Not because I did not want to but because I slid under the table, knelt between her open legs and applied my mouth greedily to the delicate morsel that was her clitoris, standing proud of its hood, and then the flooded portal of her cunt, licking and lapping between her labia and into the dripping opening with gusto. Adele might have had the taste of honey in her mouth but I had an even more delicious honey flooding mine as she cried out in delirious orgasm.

*

When we arrived at Cromer railway station we found a carriage waiting outside, the driver collecting our luggage as I helped Adele up and then joined her. Twenty minutes later, after traveling through extensive farm and parklands which I presumed were part of the estate, the carriage drew up at the front entrance to the house, the family crest carved in stone above the imposing oak door. A statuesque black man immediately appeared, immaculately dressed in a perfectly tailored uniform. He was over six feet tall, his chest, arms and legs bulging with muscle, his face covered with black markings which I took to be tribal tattoos.

The black man bowed and said in a deep bass voice, "Welcome to Danbury Manor, Detective-Inspector and," he turned to Adele and bowed again, "Mrs. Tench. I am Wiremu or William if you prefer. I am the Duke's major-domo. Will you follow me?

"Thank you," I said and, stepping aside for Adele to go first, followed William into the house.

In the hallway William paused and turned to us.

"If I may show you to your rooms so that you might freshen yourselves? If twenty minutes would be sufficient I shall knock on the door of your suite and escort you to the drawing room where Madam will join you."

"Thank you, William," Adele said and we followed as he led the way up the marble staircase.

A short while later, refreshed and changed for dinner, Adele and I stood waiting as requested while William prepared a whisky and soda for me and an Amontillado sherry for Adele. He poured a second sherry and left it on the tray then said, "Please call me if you require anything." As he left the room a woman appeared at the bottom of the staircase, spoke to him quietly and reached her hand up to stroke the lapel of his jacket. It was an intimate gesture and I noticed, from the amused expression on Adele's face, that she had noticed it too.

"Darling Adele, I'm so pleased you could come," Victoria Danforth said to my wife as she swept into the room.

The Duchess was wearing a glittering, and doubtless extremely expensive, Parisian evening gown. Her blonde hair was pinned up so the diamond pendant round her neck glinted in the gaslight. Her impressive creamy-white breasts, the creamy slopes of which were displayed almost to the nipple by the low neckline of the dress, were almost as impressive as Adele's but then I am unashamedly biased when it comes to enormous breasts.

Adele turned and said, "Vicky, this is my darling husband, Frank."

Vicky put out her small hand and I shook it gently. "Detective-Inspector. Welcome to Danbury Hall."

"I am delighted to meet you, Duchess," I said formally.

"Oh Vicky please. May I call you Frank? I'm so pleased you were able to come. Danbury is a beautiful house in a magnificent setting but it can be almost unbearably lonely and I do so long to hear the latest society gossip."

"I shall do nothing to hinder you," I said with a smile. "You may monopolize Adele to your heart's content."

There was a discreet cough from the doorway and William said, "Your Grace, dinner is served."

"Thank you, William," Vicky said and led the way through to the dining room.

*

Danbury Hall is only a mile from the North Sea coast. In the stillness of the night you can hear owls hooting in the surrounding woodland and hear the waves lapping the shingle on the shoreline. You can also hear the unmistakable sound of a woman being pleasured and it was this that woke me because I have always found the noises a woman makes when she is being plowed into a mattress highly erotic. I assumed Adele, curled up naked next to me, the soft weight of her breast resting on my chest, was still asleep but then she nuzzled her face into my neck.

"Danbury is a wonderful place to visit but I couldn't live here," she whispered. "Much too isolated. Poor Vicky, she must get terribly lonely when Lionel is away."

"Are you sure?" I said, my mouth against her fragrant hair. "I rather think William might be ensuring Vicky isn't lonely right at this moment..."

Adele chuckled softly. "Yes, she did pass on some delightful details while you were outside enjoying your cigar."

"Does Lionel know?" I asked, delighting in the pleasurable sensation as my darling wife reached down and curled her fingers round the shaft of my prick, fully erect in response to Vicky's cries of ecstatic release.

"Oh yes," Adele said. "They have what is known as an open relationship. She doesn't object to what he gets up to in Paris, he doesn't object to Vicky sharing her bed with whomsoever she wishes when he is absent. Of course she insists on Lionel undergoing a thorough medical examination before she will allow him back into the conjugal bed but apparently he considers that a small price to pay. In return she can go to bed with William or whomsoever she likes but under no circumstances is she to allow emotion to get in the way of a damn good fucking. It would seriously damage the family's reputation if the Duchess ran off to live in sin with a lover."

"Goodness, how modern," I said and then sighed softly with delight as Adele started to masturbate my cock. "I take it this open arrangement allows her to have a marked preference for her impressively muscled major-domo? Ebony prick between delicate pink cuntlips and all that?"

"My goodness yes," Adele said, releasing my shaft for a moment so she could cup my balls in her fingers, a delightful sensation that made it very difficult not to show her I was close to orgasm which she recognized and went back to masturbating me but this time slowly and gently to keep me on the boil as it were.

"But then he does have a twelve-inch cock," Adele said against my ear.

"Excuse me?" I said, not believing any man could be that well-endowed.

"She measured it. Tip to base, twelve inches. You're big, darling, but not that big..." Adele giggled with girlish delight.

I paused, lost in thought and enjoying the delightful sensation of Adele stroking her breasts against my side and chest as she caressed my shaft once more.

"Is that something you would enjoy?" I asked.

Adele raised herself on one elbow so she could look in my face.

"Well..." she said, making sure I could see the loving look in her eyes as they met mine. "You know how much I adore you but a girl can be naturally curious about these things..."

"Try as I might, I couldn't agree to an open marriage," I said firmly.

"And I would never ask you to," Adele said, shaking her head in the moonlight.

She was just about to settle herself back against me, thinking she had reassured me, when I added in a quiet voice, "But I wouldn't object to you discovering what it felt like to be made love to by William's extremely large cock if that was something you would enjoy. And provided Vicky agreed of course..."

"Goodness," Adele said and I could see she was genuinely surprised I had agreed to the possibility. She paused and then said, "I will admit that I have wondered on occasion what it might be like to be pounded into a mattress by a well-endowed black man laboring in my cunt or asshole. But I could never, ever love any man as much as I love you, darling..."

"Ah-ha, I thought so," I said, raising my hand to slap the nearest rondure of her bottom, making her squeal. Then I whispered against her ear, "Actually I was thinking I would enjoy watching your gorgeous legs waving in the air as William pumped his huge prick into your cunny, the contrast of his big ebony prick stretching wide your pretty pink cuntlips, masturbating myself until I emptied my balls into your mouth at the moment of climax. And I doubt very much whether our tattooed friend would be satisfied with a single bout of passionate coupling. I'm sure it takes quite a lot to leave William completely drained and you thoroughly pleasured so, perhaps..." I paused and then murmured, "you could manage the two of us, my prick in your cunt and his monster buried deep in your bowels?"

"Frank!" Adele said and I knew I had caused her both shock and delight by the depravity of the scene I described. But then she smiled sweetly and purred, "But wouldn't you enjoy more filling Vicky's bottom to capacity at the same time as William fucked mine? Fucking her asshole on the same bed so you and I could watch each other fucking and being fucked, our lips fused together in passionate Sapphic love?"

I reached out to thread my fingers in her hair so I could urge her under the covers. She disappeared and a moment later I groaned softly as I felt her lips envelop the head of my prick. The sensation was so exquisite I arched my back, thrust my hips forward and groaned softly with delight as I pumped multiple jets of thick, creamy sperm into her mouth and down her throat, knowing that Adele would realize from the quantity I spurted just how much the thought of such an intensely erotic tableau aroused my senses...

Chapter Two

"So, do tell me how you both met?" I said to Vicky and Adele as I helped myself to a plate of kedgeree, a mix of smoked haddock, boiled eggs and rice, from the dish warmer on the dining room sideboard at breakfast the next morning.

Adele poured coffee for me and I caught the arching of her eyebrow as a little smile played across her lips.

Vicky leaned toward me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "We were both bedders at Gonville & Caius, one of Cambridge University's colleges," she said.

"'Bedders' is not as erotic as it sounds I'm afraid," Adele said. "We made the beds in the student rooms every morning. Cleaned up, dusted round, got on our hands and knees in the bathrooms. Quite how well-bred young gentlemen who will one day become ministers of government and representatives of the Crown to foreign nations cannot manage to hit a small roundel of water instead of the surrounding floor was something that never failed to amaze us..."

We all laughed and Vicky continued.

"Adele set her sights on a very handsome young Mathematics fellow called James Garforth. She was quite happy to accompany him on afternoon walks in the Botanical Gardens or partaking of tea and cakes at Fitzbillies Tearooms followed by educational tours of the Egyptian antiquities galleries in the Fitzwilliam Museum, teasing him unmercifully by repeatedly jiggling that enormous bosom of hers, even rubbing her bottom back against his erection in front of the Ming vases, but she resolutely refused him intimacy until he managed to find the courage to climb down on one knee and propose, thereby making an honest woman of her."

"And weren't you before?" I asked Adele with a broad grin.

"Bedders are very poorly paid," Vicky said, her eyes twinkling. "And students seem to have almost permanent erections. Except when they have a pair of full red lips sliding down their pricks which is when they shout 'Eureka' and fill their bedder's tummies with masses of rather delicious sperm."

"During Final Examinations I never needed dinner," Adele said with a laugh. "The poor dears were so stressed they wanted relief on an almost constant basis. I didn't mind; it meant I earned a guinea a time and kept my virtue until my wedding night."

Adele took a sip of coffee while Vicky smirked at me, amused she had been able to reveal my beloved wife's scandalous behavior.

"But now you must ask Vicky about her experiences as a bedder," Adele said, a gleam in her eye.

Vicky blushed and started to shake her head but my wife was having none of it.

"She rather artfully seduced a member of the Royal Family," Adele whispered. "A prince no less which took some doing as he had a very capable equerry guarding him, a Colonel Matheson of the Household Cavalry I think his name was. The Colonel took care of all the royal personage's affairs. And I do mean affairs..."

"And how did you manage the entrapment?" I asked Vicky, greatly amused.

"Oh it wasn't difficult," Vicky said, smiling at the memory. "I simply arranged that he would find me making his bed when he returned from his morning bath."

"She is being coy, darling," Adele interjected with a wicked glance at her friend and then me. "She made sure he would find her bending over making his bed while wearing an indecently short skirt and needless to say she was not wearing drawers. What sealed it was when she turned to the gentleman and answered his delighted query, "And who do we have here?" while he reached his hands down between her legs to work his middle fingers into her cunny and asshole at the same time, by replying in a little girl's voice, "My name is Vicky, Sir," which instantly made his towel fall to the floor because, as he admitted to her later, he had long harbored an incestuous sexual attraction to his Mama, our dear Queen, beautiful as she then was before the unfortunate demise of her husband made her decide to spend the rest of her life in mourning."

"Oh that wasn't what sealed his devotion, sweetheart," Vicky said, rolling her eyes. "It was when I got to my knees without being asked and reached for the royal appendage, mouthing it down to the balls and happily swallowing down a great deal of his hot, gooey spunk. Apparently no woman had ever done that for him before."

"The act itself or swallowing?" I asked, somewhat naïvely, hoping that neither woman would notice my cock was fiercely erect in my tight trousers.

"Drinking it down," Vicky said and got to her feet to ring the bell for fresh coffee while Adele sat with a sweet smile on her face, obviously enjoying having such a risqué conversation over the breakfast table.

But I decided it was time to talk about the reason for our visit.

"Vicky, you mentioned in your letter to Adele that you were concerned about something?"

"My apologies, Frank," she said. "I should have told you last night but it was just such fun having you both here and being able to chat about less serious matters."

I sat back and waited.

"Wiremu is a Maori warrior which you may know means he is a native of the islands of New Zealand in the southern hemisphere. His people, like the Esquimaux, are renowned whalers and he worked for many years aboard whaling ships spearing mammals in the south and north Atlantic Ocean. It was while he was on one such voyage that his captain, mistaking the size of an iceberg they encountered, ran the boat against a sharp underwater outcrop of ice which ripped open the hull. The men had just enough time to take to a lifeboat before the ship sank but, as I'm sure you will appreciate, their plight in sub-zero temperatures was no less desperate than if they had ended up in the water which would have meant almost instant death.

"But God was with them and the captain steered them south-west in the hope they might hit the outer edge of a shipping lane or meet a ship navigating a wider-than-usual course to avoid the icepack. And so it proved: they were picked up by a small passenger steamer bound for Liverpool aboard which happened to be Lionel returning from a business trip to New York.

"Lionel was much taken with Wiremu and renamed him William, suggesting he might like to leave the dangerous life of whaling and learn to become a major-domo, the job of running the Hall having recently become vacant. William pointed out that his tribal markings might make it difficult for him to carry out his duties but Lionel disagreed, pointing out that he looked so fearsome Lionel could not imagine anyone would dare argue with him. And so it proved. William has worked for us for five years and, we hope, is very happy here although he has, in our more intimate moments which I'm sure you were aware of last night because I find it quite impossible not to cry out with ecstasy when he makes me climax, expressed a hope that he might one day return to his beautiful homeland."

"Is William then the problem?" I asked.

"Not directly," Vicky said. "The vicar of our parish which includes Danbury Hall and the surrounding villages has vanished, completely disappeared. He conducted the morning service last Sunday as usual but no-one has heard from or seen him since. When the vicar failed to appear for Evensong the church warden, a man named Alfred Jones, took the liberty of entering the vicar's rented cottage, there being no vicarage as such due to ours being only a small parish, and found cups and plates set out with food on them but the bed still made and no sign at all of the gentleman himself, the Reverend Charles Fitzhugh."

"How would you describe Mr. Fitzhugh?" I asked.

"A young Irishman from Dublin, about 25 years of age I believe. Extremely handsome, even beautiful with fiery red hair and a great fondness for the music of Mozart which he plays on the clarinet most capably," Vicky said. "His organization of the services and his concern for the flock in his care is exemplary even if his sermons are sometimes a little dull."

"A common fault with the clergy," I said to which Adele shook her head at my regrettable lack of Christian principles. "Can I ask if anyone has seen fit to mount a search? Combed through the woodlands, checked the beach to be sure there isn't a neat pile of clothes the good vicar left behind before entering the sea to swim and get into difficulties? Was there a woman in his life who had a disapproving father?"

"I ordered a search of our woodlands by the groundskeeping staff, yes," Vicky said. "No sign of Mr. Fitzhugh, unfortunately. I asked William to scan the beach and there was no neat pile of clothes or, much worse, a body which, again, was a relief but also brought us no nearer to understanding what might have happened. As for is having a female admirer no, not as far as I am aware."

She paused and took a sip of coffee. I wondered if she was about to say something which made her uncomfortable and I was right.

"I'm not sure his sexual preference lay with the female sex," Vicky said carefully. "I was aware of no indiscretion but a woman senses when a man is indifferent and Charles Fitzhugh was. I once received him without realizing I had William's abundant sperm spattered across the slopes of my breasts above the neckline of my dress. The Reverend, poor man, looked more than embarrassed when he noticed it which then made me aware to my equal embarrassment. Of course I laughed it off but Fitzhugh had turned quite pale as if he were entirely unused to the evidence of a man's passion being clearly visible."

"I see," I said. "Do you think anyone else was aware of his sexual preference?"

"Impossible for me to know," I'm afraid, Vicky said, shrugging her shoulders. "But my biggest concern is for William."

"How so?"

"Country people can be very set in their attitudes and deeply suspicious of anything unusual or unfamiliar. The gossip mill has not started yet but I do not want William to be suspected of having had anything to do with the disappearance. A black man with his face covered in tattoos, who speaks in a cultured voice, is a contradiction in terms and people roundabouts have hanged people for less."

"Not recently, I hope," Adele said, her voice showing her shock to which Vicky shook her head.

"Alright," I said, getting to my feet. "I suggest Adele and I dress in suitable outdoor clothes and take a pleasant Saturday morning stroll to inspect the architecture of the vicar's place of worship. Is that agreeable, my dear?"

"Of course, Frank," she said but there was a wicked twinkle in her eye. "Whatever mischief might Vicky and I get up to otherwise...?"

*

I will always remember the transcendent pleasure on Adele's face as she slipped off her walking shoes and the little socks Vicky had lent her, hitched up her skirt and joined me in paddling on the edges of the extremely cold small waves lapping the shoreline that marked the eastern boundary of the Danbury estate. In the distance we could see fishing boats and passenger and cargo vessels heading for the ports of northern Europe and Scandinavia and found the sight wonderfully romantic, promising each other one day soon we would journey to far-off lands to view and explore their wonders.

"Oh Frank," Adele cried, flinging her arms round my neck and almost overbalancing us both into the waves, "I am so deliriously happy! I had no idea that I could experience such joie de vivre as this and I love you so much for making it possible..." She leaned close to me so she could whisper in my ear, "Please fuck me soon, Frank. I want to feel you inside my body..."

I took her in my arms and kissed her, stopping only when a passing crab decided to investigate whether my left big toe was edible.

We walked out of the sea to dry our feet on a towel I brought from our bathroom, replaced our footwear and then made our way toward the headland where Vicky had said there was an old smuggler's trail leading up to the church and the village beyond. I had already resolved that we should steer clear of the village unless we absolutely had to; strangers excite gossip although I knew it might be necessary to visit the local public house to ask questions of the patrons.

"What do you think might have happened, Frank?" Adele asked as we walked down a lane toward the church. It was typical of the east of England, built in the Norman style with a square belltower at one end rather than a steeple.

"I really don't know, my love," I said truthfully, walking through the lychgate and up to the church's solid wooden door which I found to be locked. "He might simply have stolen the altar silver and caught the first train to Norwich and then on to London to live the high life..."

"No, sir, he would not have done that," a voice said and a man emerged from round the near corner of the church. He was not tall but was powerfully built, wearing a shirt and waistcoat above his trousers, the shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, the chain of a fob watch in his waistcoat pocket. "You will excuse me for overhearing your talk but Reverend Fitzhugh was a true man of the church in his beliefs and he believed in the doctrine of original sin for which Man must be redeemed before God."

"You must be the church warden," I said with a smile, extending my hand.

"I don't know that I must be, sir, but I have that honor," the man said and he shook my hand nonetheless, his expression quizzical as to who we were.

"My lady wife and I are guests at Danbury Hall," I said but didn't give my name.

"Fine woman, the Duchess," the warden said. "That man she has working for her is surely a godless heathen though."

"You mean you think the Maori is not a Christian or something less savory?" I asked in a deliberately innocent voice.

"Is that what he is called?" the warden said and turned his head to spit before taking an old, gnarled pipe from his pocket and jamming it between his teeth. "He has a dark countenance indeed."

"That would be his tribal tattoos," I said. "He is a native of the island of New Zealand in the South Pacific and all the males acquire them when they reach manhood. I believe the intent is to strike fear into their enemies."

"Well I wouldn't like to meet him coming the other way on a dark night," the warden said. "But if you will excuse me I have work to do tending the graves. Do you and the Missis wish to see inside the church?"

"No, thank you, we must make our way back to the Hall," I said and the warden nodded and disappeared back the way he came.

Adele and I started down the path. There was a freshly covered-over grave in a corner of the graveyard, a tiny wooden cross at the head to mark the name of the deceased while the local stonemason was carving the headstone. I stopped.

"What is it, Frank?" Adele asked.

I led the way over to the grave, taking care not to tread on any of the burial plots in between as a mark of respect.

"Adele my love," I said quietly. "If someone wanted to dispose of a body, where is the last place anyone would think to look for it?"

My wife put her fingers over her mouth in shocked surprise. "In a graveyard," she said softly.

"Adele, would you wait here for a moment?" I said. "I need to make myself known officially to our friend the church warden."

A half-hour later the warden's spade made a soft thump as he struck the lid of the coffin. He was perspiring, as was I, our shovels having cleared the soil he had filled in earlier in the week over the spinster lady who had departed this world a fortnight before. The warden had been about to argue when I first questioned him about the grave and when it was dug but he went quiet when I took my warrant card out of my inside jacket pocket and showed it to him.

"Good work, Mr. Jones," I said.

"Should we not contact the Coroner's Office to ask for permission to open the casket, sir?" the warden asked, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopping his brow.

"I don't believe that will be necessary," I said. "It is impossible to fit two bodies into one coffin without considerable effort and you would have known immediately from the much-increased weight when you and your assistant lowered the coffin into the grave. No, Mr. Jones, we must now dig very carefully around the coffin so that we might lift it sufficiently."

"Sufficiently for what, Inspector?" Jones asked.

"Sufficiently for me to see if there is anything underneath it," I said.

It took another ten minutes of careful digging for the warden and I to create enough room to stand to either side so we could lift the coffin. We did and, as I suspected, there was a layer of earth underneath, put there to ensure the grave appeared empty and ready to receive the spinster lady. The warden would not have expected to see anything different when he laid the coffin in the grave.

I bent and dug gently. A moment later I heard Adele, who was watching the proceedings avidly, gasp as the fingers of a man's left hand were laid bare. There was a signet ring on the little finger of the hand and Alfred Jones said in a soft voice, "It's him. The vicar. That is his ring."

I bent and took hold of the cold hand, prizing open the palm, intending to examine the vicar's nails for signs of a struggle. A small white object attached to a thin leather cord was twined round two of the fingers and I slipped it free and into my pocket, hoping the warden had not noticed. Fortunately he was distracted by my wife's immense bosom, made even more prominent by her leaning over to watch the proceedings.

"Well, what do we do now, Inspector?" the warden asked.

"Do you have a tarpaulin you can peg into place over the grave, Mr. Jones?" I asked.

"Of course, sir. But surely we must inform the police in Cromer of our discovery?"

"Leave that to me, Mr. Jones," I said. "This afternoon I shall catch a train to Norwich to talk to the Chief Constable to discuss the best course of action to take."

"Of course," the warden said and we worked together to fill in the grave, replacing the coffin back once more over the vicar's body, effectively ensuring the reverend gentleman vanished for a second time.

"A tarpaulin, Mr. Jones," I reminded him. "And you must promise me you will tell absolutely no-one. I have no hope of catching the vicar's killer if everyone in the village pub knows we have discovered the body."

"You can rely on me, sir," the warden said, and he made a motion of his fingers across his mouth to assure me that they were sealed shut.

Chapter Three

I did not tell Adele what I had found in the corpse's palm, nor did I intend to tell Vicky that her missing vicar had been located. I asked Adele to return to the Hall and inform Vicky that I had been offered the chance to join a fishing boat taking in lobster pots and would, of course, return in time to bathe and change before dinner. Then I arranged with Mr. Jones to be taken to Cromer station to catch the first available train to Norwich.

In the train's compartment two young women were chattering happily about the shopping expedition they were embarking on and trying to decide where to go first. I had the same thought: I knew I should report the crime to Norwich Constabulary but I was reluctant to hand over the enquiry to anyone else before I had a chance to investigate the crime myself. I therefore resolved to stay quiet for the time being and face the consequences later. They could be severe: concealing a crime was itself a crime but I believed the Chief Constable would accept my explanation and I did not intend to keep what I had discovered secret for longer than 48 hours.

Norwich is an attractive city; busy like all cities are but with a genteel quality that much of London has long since lost. Glancing at the majestic cathedral as I made my way out of the station, I could only marvel at the astonishing ability of medieval craftsmen to construct something of such enormous size and architectural complexity. How had they designed the building, raised the stone, calculated the forces necessary to support the enormous steeple? We Victorians pride ourselves on our engineering capabilities but compared to the men who built the cathedrals we are barely out of the cradle.

I asked directions and soon found myself before the imposing edifice of Norwich Museum. My hope was that staff would be working on a Saturday otherwise my visit would be for naught. I entered and was delighted to be told that the expert on the peoples, customs and culture of the South Pacific was in his office and would be happy to make himself available to see the Detective-Inspector.

"It is called a hei matau or fishhook by the Maori people of Aotearoa, Inspector, the islands in the South Pacific known to us as New Zealand," the young man said when I passed him the object I found in the vicar's palm. He had made us both an excellent cup of tea and I stood gazing around me at display cases filled with everything from stuffed birds to fearsome looking weapons and tribal masks. There was even, to my slight revulsion, a tiny shrunken head complete with teeth and hair hanging down from the skull.

He turned the talisman over in his fingers and continued, "It symbolizes strength, good fortune and success on a voyage and is commonly given to whalers and other ocean-going sailors as a good luck charm by their loved ones. This is a beautiful example and is made of bone. Animal I would expect but of course one can never be sure, it might be human in origin..."

I thanked him and followed as he showed me through the gallery devoted to artefacts from the region and then I left, eager to return to Cromer. It had been something of a long day filled with incident and I wanted to taste the lips of my beautiful wife, relax in a hot bath and enjoy an excellent dinner, all of which I would find at Danbury Hall. Together with a possible murderer.

*

"And how was your fishing expedition, Frank?" Vicky asked as we sat after dinner sipping an excellent brandy from Lionel's cellar.

"Instructive and entertaining," I said, my fingers crossed surreptitiously that she would not ask me to elaborate. "Unfortunately I realized quite quickly that I am not a natural sailor and only just managed not to disgrace myself by spending the entire time throwing up over the side."

Vicky laughed prettily and Adele came to my rescue.

"Have you heard from Lionel, darling?" she asked Vicky.

"He returns on Monday, considerably richer due to his best horse having won the Prix du Jockey Club which he doubtless celebrated by drinking a vast quantity of champagne in the company of several accommodating young ladies..."

I arched an eyebrow. "Several?"

"Lionel has a penchant for arranging his filles in tandem, one on top of the other," Vicky said with a rueful little laugh. "He can then insert his prick into one, then another and even a third if the one on the bottom can take the weight."

"Goodness, how inventive," said Adele although I knew her too well to believe she was really shocked.

"Oh yes," Vicky said, helping us all to more brandy. "He once asked me to take part but I refused. Nicely, of course."

"Not your cup of tea, darling?"

"Oh yes," Vicky said and grinned at us both. "But why should Lionel be the one to have all the fun? Now if he had agreed to one of his doxies and I engaging in a soixante-neuf while he took his pleasure I would have been only too happy to take part. Lionel is a bit of a selfish pig when it comes to lovemaking and he objected because he knew damn well neither I nor the young lady would have taken a blind bit of notice of what he was doing to us, being otherwise much more enjoyably engaged..."

For a moment I wondered if it had been Adele's friendship with Vicky that first incited my wife to gain experience of the pleasures of Sapphism so that she delighted in seducing my darling granddaughter Henrietta. I was quite sure they indulged in sessions of caressing, kissing and licking each other after Adele escorted Hetty home every day from the Brompton Academy for Young Ladies.

"Vicky, shall we play cards while Frank enjoys his evening cigar in the garden?" my wife asked, quietly emphasizing the location. She has no aversion to my enjoying tobacco and even likes the scent of it on my clothes but she dislikes having to breathe in a fog of smoke and dislikes it even more when it is the strongest flavor she can taste in my mouth, insisting I leave a little brandy in my glass for that reason.

"Oh yes, let's," Vicky said. "I usually wager more than I should but I like the risk involved. Is that alright?"

"Oh perfectly," Adele said, knowing I was listening while lighting my Havana. "Frank's money is the only reason I married him and I'm diligently working my way through it..."

"Rubbish," I called out. "I married you because I can never get enough of your enormous bosom. And your beautiful backside, of course."

"Heavens," Vicky said in a mock shocked voice. "He isn't referring to what I think he's referring to, is he?"

"Oh goodness yes, every night and three times on Sundays," Adele said with a cheeky laugh. "He's quite obsessed with buggering me, the naughty man..."

"Lionel is with me," Vicky said, not really sotto voce. "Men can be beasts, can't they...?"

"Yes," Adele agreed. And then she added, "Thank God," and both women dissolved into peals of happy laughter.

An hour later I was finally beginning to realize my darling wife and the good Duchess were not playing fairly but acting in concert to fleece me of at least ten pounds and I asked to be excused, apologizing that my non-existent seafaring adventure had given me a surfeit of fresh air and I was too tired to work out exactly how they were cheating.

Vicky and Adele stood to give me gentle kisses on the cheek and I left them both plotting the downfall of the male species while I went upstairs to change and wait for Adele to join me, deciding that her happy expectation I would want to stuff her tight, hot asshole full of my cock when she came to bed should be no less than the truth...

*

Despite my best intentions I fell asleep lying on the coverlet dressed only in my nightshirt, my prick left exposed in readiness. I thought I was dreaming when I heard soft coos of delight coming from two stunningly lovely naked women standing in the moonlight, their perfect bodies illuminated by my having forgotten to close the curtains.

Adele, with her abundant tresses of raven black hair, was standing with her hands resting on Vicky's beautiful blonde curls, encouraging Vicky to take as much of the flesh of her breasts into her mouth as she could. Vicky's suckling mouth was the reason for Adele's coos and whimpers of delight, her nipples being bitten into softly, the tips dragged out to an almost painful extent before being allowed to snap back, the pain and pleasure of which was heightened for Adele by Vicky's fingers working between her legs, a loud, slurping noise reaching my ears together with the sensual scent of two women in heat.

My cock was almost painfully hard as I watched. Her eyes closed in ecstasy, Adele emitted a wordless scream of delight as her whole body bucked and shuddered with the force of her orgasm set off by Vicky's fingers fucking their way back and forth in her sopping cunt. Without hesitation Vicky knelt and applied her mouth to Adele's dripping sex, her tongue licking and lapping the abundant flow of cream pouring from Adele's cuntlips held open by Vicky's fingers.

For a moment I was unsure what to do, not knowing if my wife and Vicky wanted me to join them or were lost in the Sapphic delights two women can experience together. Vicky solved my dilemma. She rose to her feet and padded over to the bed, reaching for my hand to indicate I should follow her. At the same time she took Adele's hand and led us both in silence to her bedroom.

William was lying on Vicky's bed waiting for her. He was naked, his enormous cock jutting up already full erect, the tip standing proud of the tight skin of his shaft. I was surprised to see the tattoos on his face extended down his neck, across the powerful muscles of his upper body and down his arms. The artist had depicted a ship, birds, mountains and waterfalls, remembrances to ensure he would carry his homeland with him at all times.

"Go to him," Vicky whispered to Adele and my wife glanced at me, needing my permission. I smiled, knowing she intended only to satisfy her sexual curiosity; nothing could ever threaten the love we have for each other.

Adele climbed onto the bed and stretched herself out full-length next to William. My own cock wept sperm it was so arousing to see her flawless white skin contrasted with the raw sexuality William exuded and I could certainly see why Vicky found lovemaking with the Maori to be an addictive pleasure, one I was sure she would be loath to forego when Lionel returned home.

The position in which Adele lay presented the long sweep of her back, the plump curviness of her bottom with its deep cleft between the perfect rondures and the shapeliness of her long legs to my gaze and I wanted nothing more than to climb onto the bed to fuck my rampant prick into the tiny treasure I knew nestled between the cheeks of my wife's ass. But I would not deny Adele what she lusted after and I saw her lick her lips in excitement as she closed her hand around the huge shaft of the Maori's cock and opened her lips, taking the entire length into her suckling mouth until her nose was buried in the soft black curls covering his balls.

Vicky, sensing the intensity of my arousal at the wantonness of my wife, moved behind me and grasped my cock, masturbating me very gently so I would not spurt too soon. I repaid her by reaching my hand back and sliding it between her legs, delighting in paddling my fingers in the deliciously wet depths of her sopping cunt, overflowing with her cream which immediately poured out over my questing digits.

William's eyes met mine as he enjoyed the fervor of my wife's skilled sucking, stroking her head to encourage her to use her lips and tongue to bring him to the boil. But if I expected him to spurt his thick cream into Adele's mouth and down her throat, I reckoned without Adele's determination to experience the ecstasy of taking a prick even bigger than mine into her cunt. She released William's prick from the clasping oval of her mouth, a long string of pearly semen trailing from her lips to the tip of his glans, and quickly lifted herself so she was straddling him, his mighty weapon lying between her cuntlips as she slid her hips back and forth along its length to enjoy the friction of his shaft against the bud of her clitoris.

There were long moments of Adele savoring this exquisite sensation and then my wife grew impatient. She raised herself sufficiently to enable her to reach a hand down between her legs, grasp the thickness of William's weapon and position it between the lips of her cunt. He grunted with delight as she sank down, a sound echoed by my wife's mingled cries of effort and ecstasy as Adele used the weight of her body to impale herself on the Maori's mighty prick.

Standing behind me, Vicky showed extraordinary skill in stroking my shaft, keeping me on the boil but never allowing me to spurt my sperm which both of us knew would have wasted it. I found it extremely difficult to hold back my climax, especially when Vicky gently took my balls in her fingers, playing with them to heighten the intense pleasure I felt in watching Adele being fucked by someone other than her son, Charley.

Adele might have believed she was in control when she fucked herself onto William's prick but the Maori soon demonstrated she was powerless to do more than moan and whimper with the blissful sensation as his powerful hands closed on her waist and he lifted her up and down on his pistoning prick. Time and again I watched the huge shaft, glistening with his semen and Adele's cream appear and disappear, the room filling with the sound and sensual scent of their frenzied lovemaking.

As determined as she was to enjoy the maximum pleasure from straddling William, Adele found it impossible to delay her orgasm once it started and she slumped forward, William's mouth suckling her enormous breasts as she cried, shook and spasmed in a climax so intense I feared she would pass out. But, while I took note of the extremity of her pleasure, I also saw William held himself still to avoid his prick spurting its precious cargo and I knew he had another intent in mind, just as I would have.

Slowly Adele gathered her wits and shifted her body, intending to allow Vicky to take her place. But, as I expected, William was not finished. He let her rise and then grabbed her by the waist once more but this time pulled her back so she sprawled full length face up on top of him. Spread out as she was, Adele could not stop Vicky from suddenly releasing my prick and stepping forward so she could reach between Adele's open legs and take hold of the Maori's weapon, positioning it against the rosehole of my wife's ass, the abundant cream oozing from Adele's cuntlips perfect to use as lubricant for what Adele realized was about to happen.

Adele's eyes met mine in near panic as Vicky kept hold of William's cock long enough for the bulging tip to press up hard against my wife's anus and then pass through the tight portal, inch after inch sliding into Adele's rectum until she was impaled once more on a prick a full twelve inches long, this time with her beautiful bottom crammed to capacity until the Maori's bulging purple glans was buried in her bowels.

"Fuck her asshole fiercely," I heard Vicky whisper in William's ear, knowing the instruction was almost superfluous as the Maori had already begun flexing his hips upwards and then relaxing, driving his prick in and out of my wife's back passage. I had taken over caressing my cock from Vicky and knew there was no way I could hold back this time, so arousing was the sight of my wife being buggered by someone other than myself.

I stepped forward and threaded my fingers in Adele's hair turning her head toward me. She knew what I wanted and opened her mouth eagerly. I jerked my hips forward, driving my prick into the back of her throat, and poured the contents of my balls out in a series of hot gushes so intense I felt my legs trembling and wondered if I might collapse. But I did not, I climaxed furiously and then stepped back to watch as I realized William was about to do as I had just done.

"Oh - ohh - OHHH!" Adele screamed at the top of her lungs, her whole body spasming and jerking atop William as he drove himself to the balls in her body, arching himself up as his sperm surged into Adele's plundered back passage. Time and again he thrust, spurting his seed into her bowels until he slumped to the bed, Adele powerless to do more than sprawl atop him, quite insensible.

I had climaxed and so had Adele and William but I knew better than to fear for Vicky's satisfaction. I was sure the Maori would need no more than a few delicate suckles of her mouth to clean his prick and then he would, once more, manhandle Vicky into position beneath him as he fucked her blissfully to however many orgasms the two of them could manage before he left her sleeping, reluctant to be discovered having spent the night in her bed.

I put my arms round Adele's waist and helped her to slide her asshole off William's prick and then walk, slightly woozily, with me back to our room. Once there I assisted her into bed and she cuddled up against me, her breasts delightfully warm and heavy against my side.

"Goodness," she said in a breathless voice, "that was jolly nice."

"Indeed," I said, smiling against the crown of her head.

"You weren't jealous? You did say I might and I made sure there was no intimation of intimacy..."

I laughed softly and put my hand under her chin, lifting her head so my lips could meet hers in a soft, deep kiss.

"It was 'an experiment'," I said, as she settled back against me once more, sighing happily. "One it would be rather pleasant to repeat in the future..."

"Mmm, I would like that too."

"Although..." I started to say and paused.

"Yes?"

"Seeing you and Vicky making love together was extremely erotic."

"Mmm, yes it was," Adele said. "Women just know what other women most enjoy when it comes to sexual intimacy. And what men like to watch."

"I mean..." I said and paused. "If you wanted to invite her to visit us in London I would certainly not object..." I let my words hang in the air.

"An excellent idea," Adele purred. "I shall suggest it to her before we leave. And she must come soon, don't you think?"

"Oh that goes without saying," I said and laughed as she punched me, gently, in the side, knowing I would like nothing better than to watch as she and Vicky pleasured first themselves and then me in a deliciously depraved scenario that offered almost unlimited permutations.

*

As tired as I was from what had transpired in Vicky's bedroom, there was a profoundly serious matter that needed to be dealt with.

I waited until Adele fell asleep and then slipped out of bed, pulling on a shirt and trousers. I left my feet bare so that I might pad silently down the stairs without waking the household or alerting William to my presence as I made my way to his quarters.

I found the Maori sitting in darkness by the back door of the kitchen. He was smoking a small pipe, the scent of his tobacco fragrant in the air. He seemed unsurprised as I picked up a chair from under the table and placed it next to him.

"The church warden and I found the body, Wiremu, and I found the hei matau in the vicar's hand," I said quietly. "Will you tell me what happened?"

The Maori sighed as if he had been expecting my revelation and was somehow relieved.

"The Reverend came to the Hall to see the Duchess after church on the Sunday evening," he said. "As he was leaving he asked if he might request a bottle of wine for the Communion Service, having used the last he had that morning and the delivery from Cromer being delayed. Of course I said yes."

I said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"He followed me down into the wine cellar. I have no idea why until he suddenly confided in me."

"And?"

"The Reverend gentleman admitted his fondness for sexual congress with men which I do not share. I was holding a candle and he blew it out: the darkness must have emboldened him for he reached his hand down to stroke my penis, obviously believing that I, as a servant and in his mind a heathen, would acquiesce to his desires.

"I did not. I pushed him back and he lost his footing. When I managed to light the candle I found him sprawled on the floor, blood seeping from the back of his head. I have seen enough of the way my tribe deals with its enemies to know the wound was fatal."

"I'm sorry," I said and meant it.

"I left him there as no-one else ever enters the cellar. When night came I took him in a cart to the church intending to leave him in the graveyard so it would appear as if he had been attacked. But then I realized the people of the village are unsettled by my tribal markings and I would have been suspected as soon as the vicar's body was discovered. I saw the open grave and decided it would be better if he were not found at all. It was only after I had replaced the old lady's coffin that I realized my hei matau was missing from round my neck and that the vicar must have grabbed it as he fell."

"I see," I said.

I knew that everything the Maori said was true and it would continue to be true when he stood before a judge who would without a doubt refuse to accept that the vicar's death was an accident, it not suiting the Norfolk diocese to discover their vicar had a weakness for intimacy with members of his own sex. William's prophecy that he would be found guilty whatever the circumstances had the unarguable ring of truth and I could see him facing the gallows.

"What will you do now, Inspector?" William said, his voice quiet, resigned, as if he had already made preparations for the passing of his soul to the other realm.

"Do, William?" I said, standing up. "I shall go back to bed. In the morning the Duchess will discover that the man who has served her so faithfully and done everything he can to ease her loneliness has, like the errant vicar, disappeared."

I heard William inhale loudly.

"How do you pronounce the name of the islands where you were born?" I asked.

"Aw-tei-uh-row-uh," he said.

"And are they beautiful?"

The name means 'Land of the Long White Cloud'" he said softly.

"You have family still living?" I asked.

"Yes. They hope one day I will return to them."

I took out my wallet and handed him a twenty-pound note.

"First make your way to Cromer, then cross the Channel to Cherbourg and find a ship headed south to the Cape of Good Hope and onward to the southern ocean. I will expect a postcard in a year or so to say you arrived home safely."

William, or Wiremu as he had become once more, said only, "Yes," and then disappeared back into the house.

I waited a few moments and then followed him, locking the door behind me, replacing the chair under the kitchen table and padding back upstairs to join my beloved wife in bed. She was lying on her front, her massive breasts mounded beneath her and I felt a rush of desire which I assuaged by settling myself between her legs, my head level with her bottom, and then gently pulling open the perfect half-moons so that I could apply my mouth to her anal sphincter. It took only the gentlest pressure from my tongue for me to be rewarded and I swallowed the richly flavored evidence of William's climax with great delight until I could retrieve no more and settled myself by Adele's side for sleep.

Even then I found myself wondering if the story William told me had been a carefully constructed fabric of lies but I believed in my heart that it was not. I had listened to the evidence presented by him, weighed up the likely truth of the matter and, acting as judge and jury, reached a verdict.

Not guilty.

*

Epilogue

The vicar's body was exhumed by the police and subjected to examination. No clue was ever found as to his killer but it was noted in the county and national press that the Maori major-domo of Danbury Hall had disappeared. A suggestion was made by the local Member of Parliament that Her Majesty's representative in New Zealand be informed but the Minister responsible for Foreign and Diplomatic Affairs responded that this would be a hopeless task as one Maori was considered to look much like another...

Many months later I was sitting in our kitchen one morning when Adele handed me a postcard bearing a New Zealand postmark, a soft smile on her face.

There were only nine words, apart from my name and the address:

'I am home now, Rangatira (Honored Chief). Thank you'.

End.