Author's disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and Inspector Lynley remains the property of Elizabeth George. This is written purely for entertainment and no profit is derived nor sought.

Warning: this story is written in the erotic fiction genre. It is rated MA, contains graphic sex scenes, swearing and adult words to describe sexual parts. I make not apologies for this. If you read this note and still choose to read on then become offended, it was your choice. No one forced you, least of all me.

We stood around the cold, steel table as Stuart Lafferty, the pathologist on duty, completed his autopsy. He nodded sagely. "Exactly the same. He drugs them, rapes them then mutilates them before he strangles them."

"She's number eight," Detective Constable Nkata muttered.

"I am painfully aware of that Winston," I snapped. I walked around the body and grunted in frustration. "And we have no insights into any of them."

"I don't think there's a pattern Sir, it must be random."

My sergeant was doing her best to annoy me. Now was not the time for one of our arguments. I tried reason - it sometimes works. "Nothing is ever random Havers. There is some logic here, a connection; one thing that ties the victims together. Find that and we will find the killer."

"Good luck. Other than the way he kills them I don't see a pattern," Lafferty interjected, "they all have different builds, different hair colour, different faces."

"They are linked," I insisted, "I feel it."

I could see the ire bubbling up in Havers. "Maybe randomness is the link," she suggested sarcastically.

I didn't rise to her bait. "Hmm, no Barbara there is something more. I feel it in my waters."

"And we never doubt your waters" she replied sarcastically. We had just agreed, in our own way, to pursue any ideas at all.

Three days later Winston rushed into the squad room. "I found a link between two of the victims. I think we should dig Sir and see if the rest are connected."

Barbara looked up at me and rolled her eyes. It was the third seeming connection between victims but mathematics alone predicted there would be some similarities in the lives of women living in the same city. "What is it?" I asked.

"Sandra Potague and Zoe Rigatti both worked as phone sex workers."

"Phone sex workers?" Barbara asked incredulously.

"Yes, men ring up and they..." I told her.

"I know what they do. It's just that they were both suburban housewives."

I looked at her and took a deep breath as if explaining to a child. "Earning extra cash most likely. I saw on a documentary once that most women on the sex lines have never been physical sex workers."

Winston was nodding like a bobblehead. "I have a list of six agencies we can try."

I issued my orders. "Find out if any of the other women ever worked for them. I have a feeling about this."

"Me too and it's not a good one," Havers said. There are occasions when I wonder how I put up with her and then she smiles and I remember I love her.

Five hours later the team had established that seven of the women worked the sex lines. I briefed the squad. "It seems the women all wanted extra cash. They all worked for one company and were issued with a mobile phone that they would turn on during agreed hours. Calls were charged at fifty pence per minute and they were paid thirty pence. So the longer they talked the more they received. This killer has to target them based on the calls. We have no way of knowing if it was the contents of the calls that triggered him to kill but there is a link."

"What about the owner of the business?" Barbara suggested.

"All women. I have Trippett checking for boyfriends etc but my hunch is it's a client. He kills roughly every week so we have a day or so before he kills again to warn the other workers. We have a list of names but they might not all be real. Three of our women used false names. It might be hard to track them all in time."

"Set a honeytrap." Everyone turned to look at Winston. He paused but then continued. "Set up a policewoman as a worker and route the calls to her phone. We might get lucky and find out how he targets them."

"Winston!" Barbara exclaimed, "what policewoman would make a convincing sex worker?" She looked around and all the squad's eyes were on her. "Oh no. No way! I am not doing it."

I was appalled and impressed. It might actually save us time. "It might save someone's life Barbara."

"No! I...wouldn't know what to say."

"Probably threaten to bite it off." The voice came from the back of the room. Laughter rippled around the room. Barbara had mellowed over the years but some of the older men remembered her vitriolic ways.

"Nkata, Havers, my office. The rest of you find me names, links, anything we can find out about tracing numbers that rang each of our victims. Go!"

I shut my door and gestured for them to have a seat. She stared coldly at me across my desk. "I won't do it. I can't do it."

"Barbara, it's just a script. You've done far harder, more dangerous things. I'll stay with you the whole time!"

Her whole face turned a funny puce colour. Rage and embarrassment morphed into a threatening volcanic eruption. "Winston, help the others. Havers and I need to discuss this alone."

"Yes Sir." Nkata looked relieved to escape.

I sat next to my personal volcano. I would swear I could feel heat emanating from her. "Barbara I'm sorry. I assumed you'd be happy to help if it meant we might stop him killing again."

"That's emotional blackmail."

She was right but I was desperate. "Oh for God's sake Barbara, it's only pretending. I'm not asking you to have sex with him!"

"I don't know how!"

"What?"

"I don't have...experience. I haven't a clue what to say."

I was stunned. "You've never talked dirty to a man?"

"No!"

"There's no shame in it Barbara, it can be fun."

She held up her hand. "I don't want to know. I never imagined you..."

Her misguided idea of class meant that she often held me to unrealistic standards. "I'm a man Barbara, with needs."

"You've rung them?"

"No, but I've had those conversations. I know what they want. Tell you what, how about we practice together and then I'll stay with you when you take the calls and if you get stuck I'll make some suggestions?"

Barbara looked at me as if I had sprouted horns. "Did you just suggest that you and I...have phone sex?"

Technically that was exactly what I had suggested. The thought gave me an unwelcome but exceedingly pleasant twinge in eye of my dick. I was trying hard to be professional. "No, it's not real. It'd just be a role-play Barbara. Think about it please. We can do this. We can catch him."

"I don't think I can Sir, I'm sorry."

"Just think about it. Please Barbara, we need a break here." She shook her head and flad my office.

Later that afternoon another victim was found. Winston felt it strongly because it was the woman he had been unable to contact to warn. I watched as Barbara tried to console him. She gave him a quick hug then came and knocked on my door.

"Come in."

She was nervous and scared and could not look me in the eye. "I'll do it. I'll ring the manager of the agency and get some tips. Can we practice tonight?"

"Sure," I said a bit too eagerly, "why don't you come to my place. I can be upstairs and you down. We can use the intercom on my phone."

Barbara could not look at me. "Okay but Sir..."

I put my hand on her shoulder to let her know this changed nothing. "Yes?"

"Don't laugh at me."

"Never Barbara, I promise." She looked so small and vulnerable all I wanted to do was hold her to me and protect her. All I could do was to to squeeze her shoulder.

We ate quickly at an Indian restaurant that Barbara liked. I was trying to make her as comfortable and relaxed as possible. This was going to be an awkward evening for both of us, but necessary. I could not let her talk to these men without knowing she was safe, not only physically but emotionally. I wanted the killer caught but the more I thought about it the more I knew that I did not want her talking dirty to other men. I did not want her exciting them or worse, having them arouse her. Barbara was a professional. She would never let that happen but I did not want her with any other man in any capacity. I am a jealous man. I admit that but Barbara is my sergeant and my friend. I vowed that after this case was over I would tell her that my feelings had become much more. Until then I had to 'suck it up Princess' as Winston was fond of saying.

As we walked to my house I almost forgot myself. I held her hand briefly until the confused look she gave me brought me crashing back to Earth. This was business and I had to get that into my head. She threw her coat onto the hallstand with practiced ease. She had been here many times but tonight it would be different. We were both visibly nervous which was ridiculous. It should mean nothing to us but it meant a lot; too much, at least to me. I poured us drinks then showed her how to operate the phone. "I'll be in my room. Just relax and pretend I'm a punter."

"Sure." She sounded anything but certain.

In my room I kicked off my shoes and sat on the edge of the bed and pressed the intercom. "Havers," she answered.

"No, you can't use your real name."

"Sorry, force of habit. What should I call myself?"

"Something slightly exotic and sexy. What about Xanthe?"

"Right...try again."

She hung up and I buzzed again. "Xanthe speaking."

"Better but not seductive. Try again."

"Hi, this Xanthe, how may I help?"

I smiled at her words. I used a Cornish accent to ensure it was distinct from my usual voice. "Hello Xanthe, this is...Billy. What are you wearing?"

"Billy?"

"It's a roleplay. I want to be Billy," I said in my normal voice.

Barbara laughed. It was musical and on the phone very sexy. "Hello Billy. I'm wearing jeans and a tee-shirt." She also changed her voice slightly to more of a cockney twang.

"That's hardly sexy Barbara. Men want something more...exotic," I reminded her.

"Right Sir," she said normally then switched to Xanthe. "Hello Billy. I'm naked."

"No! They want to imagine undressing you. Try something sexy." It was clear Barbara had never had these conversations and I found that rather exciting.

"Hello Billy, you caught me just about to take a shower. I'm just in my bra and g-string."

"Oh good! Much better," I told her as I lay back on the bed. "What colour are they Xanthe?" I asked in my sexiest Billy voice.

"Beige."

"No! Beige is a passion killer. Try red or black or even turquoise but not white or beige."

"They're black Billy, with red lace trim. What about you?"

An image started to form in my head. "Oh, that does sound sexy Xanthe. I'm in jeans and a shirt."

"Why don't you take your shirt off?"

"I will." And I did. I took my trousers off too. I told myself it was to get into the mood. I wrapped myself in my fluffy white bathrobe and lay back on my bed.

"What about your jeans?"

"Gone."

"Where are you Billy?"

"In a big house in the country. I'm in my bedroom and you just walked in."

"Sounds creepy Billy, a big old spooky house. I'm glad you're there to keep me safe. You will keep me safe won't you?" She sounded vulnerable but alluring.

"Always Barbara."

"What?"

"Sorry! I forgot." I coughed then switched back to Billy mode. "I want you to come over and join me on the bed."

"I want that too Tom...Billy. I'm walking really slowly. I'm watching your eyes."

"I'm watching your jugs trapped in that little bra..."

Barbara started to laugh. "Jugs?"

"I don't know. Boobs, knockers, breasts. What do you want me to call them?"

"It's just funny hearing you pretend to be crass."

"Concentrate please Barbara. Now where was I? You look so inviting in that tiny little g-string." I closed my eyes and imagined Barbara dressed that way, walking towards me. It had a definite affect on me. My boxers strained with my growing erection.

"You like what you see? Do you want me?"

"Oh God yes!" I remembered too late I was Billy. "Pull down your bra over one of your...tits and let me look at it."

There was a pause. "The left one. I've freed her. My nipple's gone all hard in the cold." I wondered what it looked like and must have asked. "It's small and pink and tightly puckered. It's almost painful how hard it is. The other one is lonely."

"Free it too! Hold them up so I can see them. Bring them closer so I can suck on them." My dick was so hard it was being doubled over by my tight boxers.

"Will I take my bra off Billy?"

"No, let me. Yes see how good the feel. I want to run my face between them and squeeze them. Would you like that?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to suck your tits and then run kisses up your neck." There was a few seconds of silence. "Are you still there Xanthe?"

"Yeah sorry. I'd like that Billy. Kisses on the neck turn me on."

"Then I'll kiss your neck until your juices run. I'll bite hard just where your neck and shoulder meet then soothe your soft skin with long, slow, tantalising strokes of my tongue."

Barbara groaned. It was very effective and sounded realistic. "Tell me how you want to fuck me."

I nearly choked hearing her say it. I did want to fuck her, hard and often. I'd wanted that for months. I had to remember this was only a role play. "Not yet Xanthe. I want to take you right to the brink. I want you to want me more than you want to breathe. I want to hear you cry out my name as I make you come with my fingers and my tongue. I want you to coat me in that delicious nectar then...then I'll fuck you fast and deep while you scream for me to fuck you harder."

"Oh yes Billy. Yes! Are you hard yet?"

"Yes!"

"Are you naked Billy?"

"Boxers. I'm still in blue boxers."

"That's no fun Billy. I'm going to run my hand over you, feel how big you are."

I began to run my hand over my shaft to relieve some of the tension. The soft silk made it feel like delicate hands. "That feels good Xanthe. Very good."

"Now I'm going to tuck my thumbs in your waistband and pull off those boxers." I sighed when I imitated her words and pulled them down over my bum and my little man sprang free.

"Better?"

"Mmm."

"Oh Billy! You are a big boy. You look so powerful. Are you hard Billy?"

I was losing my battle not to enjoy what we were doing. "I am so hard I'm seeping."

"Let me touch him. I want to put my hand around him. I'm going to move my hand up and down, slowly at first. I'm going to rub that moisture into that smooth tip. Run it around every groove as if it were my tongue. Do you feel that Billy?"

I used my thumb to circle my head then began to gently stroke up and down. "Yeah, I feel it babe. But I want to taste you. Let go."

"Okay Billy, you're the boss."

"Kneel up on the bed Xanthe."

"Yes Billy. Are you going to fuck me from behind?"

Such a glorious thought. "No, I'm going to run my hands down your back and over the curve of your arse down to your ankles so your back tingles then I'm going to spank you until your turn a lovely shade of red and your arse is on fire." Even as I said it I was not sure where that fantasy came from.

Barbara gasped. "I like being spanked Billy but not too hard."

I was trying hard not to touch myself. This was Barbara and it was a role play. This was not supposed to excite me this much. "No, not too hard," I murmured. "One!"

"Ow!"

"Two!" I gripped my cock hard and began to move to the rhythm of my words.

"Ahh!"

"A little harder now. Three."

"Oh Billy, that stings."

"I'll kiss it better babe. See, do you feel my lips as they take away the sting. They're moving closer to where you want me. You do want me don't you?"

"Oooooh yes."

I was worried I might start to cum so I moved my hand away. "Feel my hands on your tits? My fingers are twisting and pulling your nipples as my tongue teases you."

Barbara's breathing was heavier than normal. "Mmmm, I can feel it."

"I want to taste you but first stretch out and lie down on the bed. My hands are still cupping your breasts. Spread your legs just enough so that I can rub my cock between your thighs. See, feel how big it is? Feel how hard it is? And it's all yours...soon."

"Oh Billy. You're so hard."

"And you're so wet for me babe. So soft and wet. Feel me rubbing? Feel me as I slide through those lips of yours and across your sweet centre? Feel my head nudging your entrance? I could take you now. One thrust and I'd be inside you babe. I want that so badly but not yet."

"I...want...it too!"

"Roll over...good girl...I'm rubbing my hand over that little bit of damp lace. My fingers are going closer every time I stroke you. You're squirming. You like that. You want more don't you?"

"Yes!"

"I have my hand under the lace now. My knuckle is teasing you. Should I rip off that little g-string or should I leave it there?"

"Rip it off!"

"No, I think I like it there. I'm tracing the cloth down into those folds. You're so hot and swollen and wet. My fingers are slipping through...right down...now back up. I'm circling your clit. You're writhing underneath me and groaning...yeah, just like that."

Barbara's groans were so realistic I wondered if her hand was mimicking my words. Until then I thought of her sitting cross-legged on my couch. The thought of her touching herself made me groan too; a long, deep, satisfied sound. "Are you touching yourself? Are you following my words?"

"Yes Billy. Do you want to feel my hand wrapped around your cock?"

"Yes but don't move it, I don't want to cum yet."

"Then make me cum...Billy."

The way she said Billy sounded like an afterthought. I began to wonder if, like me, this was about Barbara and I and the role play was only a pretense. I wondered if I went downstairs now whether Barbara would fuck me as hard as I wanted to fuck her. "My fingers are there babe, circling you. Now I'm sliding them down to that dark cave. Very, very slowly I'm pushing one finger just inside you. You're tight babe, wonderfully tight around it. That means when I finally fuck you you're going to squeal as I fill you. I'm big babe. I'm going to split you open like a ripe peach. You want that don't you? You want me inside you." All trace of my fake accent was gone. I wanted her to know it was Tommy not Billy who wanted her.

"Oh God yes," she moaned.

"My finger is all the way in now. I'm moving it back and forth, rubbing over the bits you like. Now a second one. Let me hear you babe. Let me hear you as I plunge them into you. Let me hear you scream as my thumb mercilessly spreads your juices over that burning bud of yours."

"Ooooh."

"That's sounds good babe."

"I have you," she panted, "I've got your cock and I'm strumming you hard. Up and down, up and down. I'm tickling your balls every down stroke. You like that I can tell." Not a trace of Cockney. Barbara was talking to me and it filled me with warmth.

"I do, you're good babe, very good. I'm still fucking your pussy with my fingers. I'm curving them just the way you like it. You're close now babe. Real close." Barbara's breathing was more like a drowning man gulping air. If she wasn't participating she had missed her calling.

Barbara groaned loudly. "Oh God...Tom...eeeeeeeee."

"Cum for me babe. Come hard and think of me buried deep inside you."

Barbara cried out so loudly I heard her cry echo up the stairs. Barbara was breathing heavily over the phone and groaning softly. "Oh fuck..."

I tried hard to resist but my cock was quivering and my nuts had contracted painfully. I needed release. I started to emulate her words. I wrapped my fingers around the shaft and started to move slowly up and down. I was out of breath and fighting yo stay quiet.

"That sounds so hot."

Barbara was listening to me. It was too much. I cried out in a loud, long growl. "I'm going to cum too." And I did. Cum shot in the air and fountained around me.

"I wish I was there to watch."

An image of her watching made my whole body shudder. I wasn't sure if I came again or if it was a continuation but I had never cum so hard. It seemed to start in my toes and move through every muscle. I called out Barbara's name. The intercom clicked off. I lay on the bed panting as I wondered what had just happened. I knew I should feel guilty in some way but I was too euphoric to care.