I am not satisfied with this chapter. Hopefully the next one will be better.

Chapter 4

"I hope you like the place, Marion."

Harry turned her head and looked at the man. Sitting next to her on the sofa, he smiled at her with this warm, a bit shy smile. It was hard to believe he was likely thinking about how to drag her into his bedroom upstairs as soon as possible.

"Seems very nice" she answered, looking around. "I do like this style of the furniture."

"My grandfather had brought it from India when he had retired from the army. What would you like to drink, darling? We got the Veuve Cliquot here, is it fine?"

"Yes, please" Harry thought she'd give a hundred just to sit at the river bank at the very moment and even drink warm beer instead of being here, in this bloody country house in the forests, together with Mr Willing Fingers.

When during Thursday evening he had mentioned "the cottage" he shared with his nephew, she felt the little flutter of excitation. She didn't even have to try hard to make him invite her for the weekend there. "I promise I will be of my best behaviour, Marion – I won't do anything improper". Translation to the common language – "I won't do anything you don't want me to, but I bear in mind you agreed to leave for the weekend with me…"

Dempsey and Spikings didn't like the idea. A house in the forests? Where, exactly? Does she know the location? She'll need the support, how does she imagine that? Wouldn't it be safer to meet the guy somewhere in the city? If this place has something to do with any crime or something Rathbone wouldn't take her there, would he?

"Sir" Harry was sustaining her opinion "there's no worry. I can always demand from him to take me back to London. He is a gentleman, he'd be furious and disappointed but he'd do what I ask him for. But that's a good opportunity to check this place. The lonely house far from town is in my opinion quite proper place for an illegal business. If there is any illegal business, because I have a feeling Sir Percy has no idea about the correct spelling of the word 'drugs', let alone dealing it."

"He really put his spell on ya, didn't he?" Dempsey snapped. "What a nice guy he is!"

"He's stupid, he's crazy for skirts but he's good-hearted" Harry answered it very calmly, not wanting to be involved in any argument this time. "Being a player is not a crime, Dempsey, which I think must be a comfortable thought for you yourself."

He gave her a long look.

"Bein' a player is a kind of art, bein' a nebbish stud is a misery" he said scornfully and rather casually and immediately returned to the topic. "How can you be so sure he won't any harm to you? He is like a tank, when he speeds up he'll just gun you down and roll over you. And you had had this kinda fight in the past already, the guy had been half of his weight and yet you wouldn't have made it if I hadn't been hiding in the wardrobe."

"Yeah, while you'd been supposed to hide in the bathroom!" Harry remembered ice-cold eyes of the handsome guy she had had to "seduce" that evening three years ago, his merciless touch, his demanding hands on her lingerie… And the bastard Dempsey had hidden in the wardrobe "to have a better view"! When he explained it to her with the innocent smile, it made her mad and it was the first - and so far the last - time she slapped him in the face. Served him right.

"I wonder how you'd've managed that if I'd been in the bathroom instead!"

"Back to the current case please!" Spikings yelled to stop them arguing again. Dempsey knew of course it was his frustration of Sir Percy that made him to nitpick in the details of one of their first cases together but he just needed to let off some steam.

At last, it was agreed with Spikings that Dempsey and Fry would be there for her – "you need to be invisible, you both, and inaudible, but you need to check the place AND look for Harry's safety. I don't know how you are going to do that, but I am pretty sure you will manage."

Harry had no doubt they would, either. Dempsey's skills were indisputable, and Fry was absolutely great being silent and fast in action. He told her once he had spent his childhood in a forester's lodge as his father was a forester and taught the little Fry to live with the nature. "I am like Mowgli in the jungle, you know, Harry."

Now she was sitting in the posh, classy living room of a very beautiful country house which, although a small one, couldn't be called "the cottage", with huge windows and the well maintained garden outside, and with the man giving her a flute of champagne.

"Cheers, Marion" he raised his glass, sitting down beside her. "By the way, you have a very beautiful, original name."

Well that's great, let's hope the bloody Robin Hood will make it on time, went through Harry's mind. She quickly glanced through the window, but of course there was no sign of any human being presence outside. She smiled at Sir Percy and crossed her legs, exposed quite tantalizingly under the blue, pencil skirt.

"You said you shared this place with your… cousin, didn't you?"

"Do you see somethin', Fry?" Dempsey hissed. He's been squatting in a bush for some time and this was bloody uncomfortable, and a twig was prickling his ear. "Don't stand up, just tell me whatya see from here"

"Nothing, completely nothing" Fry whispered back. He poked his head out of greenery and looked carefully around. "I guess they're both still in the house. The light is on."

"I hope it's on" Dempsey growled. "OK dude, let's move from here, to the rear of the house. See that tree by the kitchen door? We'll stop there, and then - straight to the wall."

They flitted quietly towards the building, like two armed, black-dressed ghosts. Dempsey knew from the sportive grin on Fry's face that the boy really enjoyed the action. It made him angry a bit, the stupid brat didn't think about Harry's situation at all. Well of course she wasn't in real danger, but anyway, that was not pleasant for her, for sure. The old goat was probably snorting with steam already. What if he just throws himself on her? Dempsey thought he would just kill him if he did.

"Fry" he whispered again "check the shed."

"The shed?"

"There" Dempsey indicated with his chin the small building standing among the trees, about twenty feet away from the kitchen entrance. "See? The door is open. Check the inside."

Fry gave him a doubtful look.

"You think it's a shed? Looks rather like a huge doll house or something. For kids, you know"

"Sweet Jesus… OK, check the doll house or something then. And ya see it's a shed."

While Fry disappeared behind the ajar door of the disputable house, Dempsey sneaked towards the kitchen entrance of the cottage. Carefully he pushed his back against the wall and stuck his head trying to see anything inside through the small glass windows in the door. But there was nothing and no one, just a pale reflect of the lamps switched in the living room. And then he heard something – a slow, ripping sound of the violin music.

Well hope it's a cassette, not Percy-Schmercy himself, Dempsey thought and suddenly, although he was not in the fancy mood, he felt like bursting into a nervous laughter. His imagination pictured a portly figure of Rathbone, standing in front of Harry, curving himself in the pose of the spirited Paganini and ripping the violin chords without mercy and completely out of tune. Dempsey had to stick his fist into his mouth not to laugh, and Fry was a bit surprised, when he crept up back to his senior officer and saw him grinning from ear to ear.

"What?!" Fry whispered, astounded.

"Nothing. Nothing. So, what did'ya find in there?"

"It's a shed."

"Well, what d'ya know" Dempsey mocked.

"But" Fry was now gasping with excitement "I have noticed something else. A kind of basement of the main house, just round the corner, four steps down and a door, there. And there's quite big padlock on the door."

"A padlock? Well, well, well. Let's see it. Probably our subject keeps the jars of peach marmalade in there. I bet he loves feedin' himself. Come on, boy" and Dempsey slipped towards the corner of the house, still keeping himself close to the wall. Fry followed him.

The padlock was big indeed. Too big for just the door of a kind of a basement closet.

"Are you going to unlock it?" Fry asked.

"Of course I am, what dya think? But of course I am not gonna get in through the main entrance and ask the guy for a key."

"How are you going to do it then, you want to shoot it through?"

"Fry. Spare me that, please. No, I don't." Dempsey took something out of his trousers pocket and for a while he tampered with the padlock carefully. Fry was standing near, goggling over his shoulder but couldn't see anything. Suddenly a loud "click!" was heard and Dempsey turned to Fry, with the unlocked padlock in his hand.

"This is a very useful skill, Fry boy" he grinned. "But don't overuse that, remember, some people don't like that. I could tell you few stories…"

Dempsey carefully reached for the door handle and yanked it slowly. The door was cracked open. They both slipped into a small mudroom. Another door with just two bolts, one under another. Dempsey frowned. Why such precaution? It must have been just a kind of a utility room, nothing more?

Holding his gun in the right hand, he quietly unbolted the door and push it. It opened with a squeak.

The room behind the door was rather small and lighted very poorly as there was only one small window under the ceiling, but Dempsey saw immediately what was in there, and stood speechless. Fry looked out over his shoulder and gasped.

"Holy shit!"

Sir Percy Rathbone was sitting much too close to her now.

She tried to think coldblooded but it began to seem unambiguously. He was going to get his reward. It was easy to see what he was thinking about. Thank god he wasn't too pushy, but anyway. Early dinner on their way to here, in a nice country restaurant, now few drinks and… where the hell were Dempsey and Fry? She has already had to cool down the elder man a bit, but for how long?

"So, Marion" Sir Percy leaned forward to her, his hand on her knee, squeezing it a little "would you like to have a look at the rest of the house? I'll show you your room."

OK, if boys don't appear I'll need to knock him out, she decided. One quick kick would do.

"May I have the glass of water first?" she smiled, standing up. He stood up as well, looking her deeply in the eyes.

"Of course, my dear lady" he brought her hand up, kissing her fingers.

How on earth Dempsey suddenly appeared behind his back, she didn't know. As if using a Star Trek transporter he just materialized there but much faster than Mr Spock would ever do; he hooked Rathbone's neck with his arm tightly. Rathbone spluttered desperately, more of fear than of the squeeze. His eyes popped, face turn red.

"Haven't you had enough, you old kink?" Dempsey hissed into his ear, then he squeezed a bit more. Harry noticed the fury and anger on his face, much too big under these circumstances.

"Dempsey, let him go" she yelled, catching his arm. "You'll strangle him!"

"That would be the best solution" he snarled, but released his iron grip and pushed Rathbone against the sofa. Sir Percy fell down on it, his eyes were filled with the animal fear. And then he started to scream in a high voice, covering his face with his palms:

"Please, no! No! Do me no harm! Please!"

Before Harry realised what was happening to him, he jumped off the sofa and almost immediately fell down on his knees in front of both of them.

"You can take what you want! I swear I won't tell the police. I swear. Please…" he was babbling, drooling and red-faced, his eyes on stalks.

"What?!" Dempsey exclaimed. "Makepeace, do you see what this filthy idiot is taking us for? Ah you old…"

Well what else the hell have you expected after such entry, you idiot?!

"Sir Percy" Harry tried to pour oil on trouble waters. "Sir Percy." No result. "Will you listen to me!" she shouted, catching his arm and shaking abruptly. Finally he looked up at her. "Sir Percy, we are the police. I am DS Makepeace, and this is Lieutenant Dempsey, SI-10. I am afraid we have some questions…"

"He should be afraid, not you" Dempsey wiped his face. "You old perv, tell me, why d'ya need to fuck the city broads – the stuff you got here repels you or what, huh?"

His frustration was so big she suddenly realised it had nothing to do with Sir Percy's pathetic advances on her. There was something really wrong here. She put her hand on Dempsey shoulder, trying to calm him down a bit. "Will you tell me what is going on here and why you are acting like Rambo?" she asked quietly, but with the very familiar, angry twinkle in her eyes.

He told her…

There were five of them. All aged perhaps sixteen, seventeen. All with dark skin and black hair, all in the ragged dresses and very dirty. They hustled all together on a narrow mattress lying on the ground in the corner of the room. The other two dirty mattresses were propped up against the wall. The girls were looking at Harry with widened, frightened eyes.

"I don't believe it" Harry leaned against the wall outside, next to Dempsey. She was staring straight ahead without a thought. Fry was in the house, keeping his eye on Rathbone ("and believe me Fry, if this reptile makes one step forward, you'll land in the traffic squad before you're able to say 'Spikings', you understand?"). Dempsey took a cigar out of his pocket.

"When will Spikings be here?" she asked.

"He's on his way already, by helicopter. Local police will pick'em up from a landing spot two miles away."

"And the doctors?"

"Soon."

"I don't believe it." Harry said again.

"Yeah, you'd better do. Things like that happen all the time" he said with bitterness in his voice.

"No Dempsey, you don't get it. I don't believe Sir Percy has anything to do with this shit."

"What?! Makepeace, pull yourself together, babe. I understand he is your Prince Charming but…"

"It may be hard for you to believe, Dempsey, but I am not that desperate" she shot back. He couldn't hold his amused grin while she continued "For goodness sake, stop telling these nonsenses. And do you really think he'd be that stupid? Bringing his lassies here, to this place?"

"Yeah, why not? They don't have to know about the second nature of this place. You wouldn't, would you?"

She knew it would be difficult to convince him, especially because of how he had reacted on Rathbone, but her intuition was telling her she was right.

Few minutes ago Harry had tried to talk a bit to the girls but without brilliant results. Girls were in shock and none of them spoke English, except the word "please". Only one of them spoke French a bit, but it was at the very poor level and the girl didn't even understand any of the questions Harry tried to ask. The only one thing she knew was they were from Yugoslavia.

She had brought them bottles of water and with smile and hands gesture tried to show them they were safe now. She left the closet leaving the door wide open.

"OK, I'll go and check upon him" she sighed. "He didn't look good after you had appeared there out of the blue, playing Zorro… By the way, you think he really took us for burglars in disguise or something like that?"

"Oh yeah" he brightened with the broad smile. "The fantastic gang: the lady and the Yank! Lady Makepeace, the capo of tutti capi in London underground world! I tell ya Harry, this was the funniest thing I've heard today!"

"Not funny at all, Dempsey".

Sir Percy was sitting on the sofa with the glass of water in his hand. He rested his head on his hand and closed his eyes. He breathed heavily, his face was pale. Fry was standing in the corner of the living room, keeping his eyes on the man.

"Fry" Harry spoke quietly "go to Dempsey for orders. I think we can expect our boys soon, there's much to do there."

Fry looked with hesitation. "Dempsey told me not to…"

"I know" Harry cut in impatiently "don't worry, I'll stay here and you'll be more helpful outside."

"But Dempsey…"

"Constable."

This single word turned into an ice cube and Fry slipped out at the lightning speed.

"Are you all right, Sir Percy?" she asked, sitting down in the armchair next to the sofa.

"Are you really a policewoman, Marion?" was the quiet answer.

"Actually, it's Harriet. Yes, I am."

"Harriet… What a fool I was…"

She didn't know what he referred to; his potential involvement in this crime, or just his belief in her interest in him… She couldn't ask; now he was a suspect and she was the police officer on duty. But she felt sorry and couldn't help that. Pathetic old fool, indeed.

"Harriet" he whispered hoarsely "believe me, I didn't know about it. You must believe me, I have nothing to do with this dirty business. You must believe me, please tell me you do!"

"I cannot talk to you about it now, I am sorry, sir. The investigation…"

"The investigation" he repeated bitterly. "Of course."

They were sitting in silence.

About half an hour later, the voices were heard from outside, approaching quickly, and there was Spikings standing at the door, with Chas and Dave next to him, calm and serious.