Holmes and The Cad's Diary Ch. 02

'The conspirators would be silent, they had the double jeopardy of knowing that their wives most intimate secrets were in the Diary and also that they had committed a capital offence. My investigations also suggest that they may have benefitted financially in some small ways in the subsequent endeavours. In that way I think I am certain of the names of eight of the ten men and can hazard a guess at the other two. But the instigator, he has benefitted greatly and quickly and succumbed to the most common of criminal vices – greed. Greed Watson, my most loyal and dependable informant.'

'So you know who this man, this instigator, is?'

'Yes Watson, I should have known from the very beginning, if only I had been clever enough to see the bigger picture. He made one mistake early on which gave me the scent. The Minister for European Trade was away on a trade mission the night we saw his wife entertaining the Cad.'

'Some minor state I believe. It was in The Times.'

'But he had no passage booked on any line for three weeks before that date Watson, and no record was made of him re-entering the country at any of the Channel ports. I checked.'

'You mean?'

'Yes Watson. The Minister was the source of my tip-off and the man that used his own young wife as sacrificial bait in a trap to kill a man. And it has been the Minister that has been using the knowledge and leverage gained from his possession of the Diary to secure, over the last few months, lucrative shipping contracts and business deals to increase his wealth and influence to such an extent that he stands on the verge of a meteoric rise from a relatively lowly cabinet position to leader of his party at the next election.'

'My God Holmes!'

There was silence in the room for several minutes. Holmes moved back to the mantle to refill his pipe after his performance and I sat, trying to take in the gravity of the situation. It was I that broke the silence at last.

'You said you had a favour to ask me?'

'A very great favour Watson.'

'What is it?'

By way of answer Holmes went into his room and returned a few minutes later with a battered suitcase which he put on the table in front of me. Undoing the straps and opening the lid he pulled out a long black cape with a high collar.

'I want you to be the Cad Watson.'

I could think of no reply other than to sit open mouthed in shock.

'I would do it myself Watson but I am wholly the wrong build, you are very close in height and stature. If you were to make your voice a little more gruff and keep you instructions short, or perhaps used gestures and sign language, in a darkened room you may pass muster enough for my needs. The Minister also made one more mistake, more an omission, which will be vital in the deception I propose. He was unaware of the Cad's secret lotion. This is plain by the fact that the ointment jar was left in the cloak at the murder scene and the exotic tropical plants in the conservatory were untouched. From a close examination of the specimens I noted a number had cuttings taken or lesions on the stems where extract had been taken and I would therefore venture that it is some combination of this extracts which makes up the lotion.'

'I'm not really sure Holmes; I mean what would you want me to do?'

Holmes outlined his plan and after two stiff brandies, against all my better judgement, but with, I am ashamed to admit, some excitement, I agreed to his plan.

And so it was that near 11 o'clock on a cool spring night I was again crouched by the French windows that led into the sitting room of the Minister for European Trade, soon to be leader of his party, looking in. Holmes, in preparation for the upcoming charade, had picked the lock ('A Dobson 3 barrel is child's play Watson') and placed the leather pouch that the Cad had used to store his lotion jar on the table in the middle of the room and I was crouched waiting for my cue. I had been there nearly 30 minutes when the sitting room door opened and the lady of the house entered, in night attire and a dressing gown and carrying a lamp. We had learned via a loose tongued servant that it was her custom to hunt out some reading matter from the sitting room each night. She moved across to the bookshelves and took a few minutes selecting a book then turned to leave. I feared that our plan was not going to work but then her eye caught the pouch and she froze, transfixed, as if she had seen a ghost. She stared at the pouch for two, long minutes, barely able to breathe, let alone move then slowly approached the table and reached out a trembling hand and, with difficulty, undid the strap and opened the flap. She visibly deflated when she noticed that the pouch was empty. That was my cue.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Three, slow, gentle taps of the jar on the French windows made her head snap round and her eyes nearly burst into flame as she saw the glint of the lamp light reflecting on it. Her eyes turned to my face but I had donned a mask as well as the high collared cape. She looked for some seconds such that I was unsure if she had taken the bait but then she rushed to the windows, unlocked them (Holmes had refastened them) and pulled me inside and into an embrace, burying her face in my chest and starting to sob quietly.

'I thought you dead, I thought you dead.' were all the words she could manage.

I let her hold the embrace for a number of minutes, partly because it would have been difficult to break her strong grip but also it gave me time to gain confidence in my part.

Suddenly her hands moved from my back towards my crotch. Although, I would point out, not small, I was certainly no match for the Cad in penis length so I quickly gripped her wrists and pushed her back and made my first attempt at the Cad's gruff voice.

'Undress'

'Would you not be sucked tonight?' The young woman dipped her head coquettishly and walked seductively back towards me.

The combination of the dim light (her lamp was across the room), my wide brimmed hat, the masquerade mask and, I presumed, the promise of some of the magical lotion all seemed to work in my favour and she seemed to accept that I was her illicit lover, at least for now. I only hoped I could keep up the charade long enough for Holmes' purposes.

'Undress!' I repeated with an edge.

She gave me a look like a reproached child but started to undo the dressing gown.

'Over there, on the couch.'

She dropped the dressing gown to the floor as she turned. As she moved towards the couch she came between me and the lamp and her body was silhouetted through her thin cotton nightdress. I was transported back to the night I had watched her through the window and my penis stiffened in my trousers. She reached the couch and undid the lacing at the top of her nightdress, with her back still to me, and let the loose nightdress fall to the floor around her feet and turned to face me, naked. She stood for a few seconds as if on display then reclined on the couch making no attempt to cover her modesty. I nodded approval and, playing for time, moved to a table that had a cigar box on it. Aping the Cad's confidence, which I was not feeling myself, I flipped open the box and selected a cigar, rolling it under my nose. I took a match from the nearby box and lit the cigar, inhaling deeply and blowing out a large cloud of smoke. I congratulated myself on the double benefit of using up some additional time and further obscuring my face.

'Don't be cruel my love, you know how much I need you.'

The Minister's young wife was lying on the couch, wantonly displaying herself. Her hand moved to her crotch and her index finger found her folds and started to worm its way inside. She was already moist, I could see by the glistening in the lamp light. I took another puff on the cigar.

'Show me' I said.

She moved both hands to her vagina and parted the lips, the vivid pink of her inners folds contrasting against the dark curls of her pubic hair. All the time her eyes flicked between my own eyes and the jar which I had placed on the table next to the cigar box. She started to run her middle finger along her opening, lingering at each stoke on her most sensitive area.

'I need your cock my love, you know my husband doesn't fill me like you do and he has neglected me sorely recently while he has been away doing business. Just the sight of you makes me wet. Let me have some lotion and fill me up my love.'

As she finished this craven entreaty she slipped her finger inside herself. My penis was fully hard now, despite the trepidation that filled me. Holmes had assured me that I would have to act the part of the Cad for only a short time and for obvious reasons I would not have been able to fully impersonate him for a 'full performance'. However, the situation had now gone beyond any brief that Holmes had given me and I could not keep up the pretence of being the Cad much longer without engaging with the Minister's wife, and any sexual engagement would surely break the spell she was under. I ran through scenarios in my head: Anything involving my penis was out of the question, as much as my baser instincts cried out for release. My only option would be to perform some other act on the young woman. Manual manipulation was an option but I would necessarily be close to her and afford her a better look at my face. I had reached the conclusion that my only option was to engage in cunnilingus on the young woman when there came a soft knock on the door. Expecting this interruption as part of Holmes' plan I turned to the door with a curious mixture of regret and relief. This feeling quickly turned to panic however when I saw a chambermaid enter the room.

She took a few steps into the room before seeing her Mistress lying on the couch, naked and masturbating. She was struck dumb for a second then, out of the corner of her eye saw the flare of my cigar and turned, open-mouthed, towards me. She looked ready to scream but the Minister's wife reacted quickly, dashing up from the couch and taking the girl, who looked to be in her early twenties, by the shoulders so that she turned to look her, naked, mistress in the eyes.

'Nancy, Nancy, don't be afraid, this man is my friend. You are not to shout out, he means no harm.'

'But Mistress . . .'

'He is a wonderful man Nancy, and he is helping me. Now, go up to your room and go to bed and say nothing to anyone. Do you understand?'

The chambermaid looked at me then back to her mistress, standing naked in front of her, the chill and the shock causing goosebumps to rise on her skin and her nipples to jut proud from her shapely breasts. I could just discern the sheen of her juices on the fingers that dug into the maids shoulder. The chamber maid was silent in shock and confusion. I suddenly struck on an idea.

'No, she will stay.'

They both looked at me, the Minster's wife's face also now shocked.

'Undress her, I would have you both.'

'But my love, she is a common working girl.'

'Undress her, or I leave.'

I picked up the lotion jar and turned for the window. The Minister's wife turned to the servant girl and started to unbutton her uniform.

'No, don't be afraid Nancy, be a good girl and my friend will give you a great gift. But it must be a secret Nancy, no one must know.'

As she was trying to calm the girl she helped her out of her chambermaid's uniform to reveal simple cotton undergarmets, far removed from the silken lingerie that her Mistress had worn for the Cad. The Minister's wife looked back at me, as if asking if I was sure. I merely nodded, curtly, back in reply. The poor servant girl moved her hands in front of her in modesty. A pang of guilt pushed it's way past the lustful preoccupations of my mind but I told myself that any second now my charade would come to an end and that this poor, unwitting, accomplice was a part of a greater, good intentioned conspiracy.

A large part of me however, caught up in the excitement of the scene in front of me, was also hoping that the interruption would be delayed just long enough for me to see the lady of the house undress her servant.

The minister's wife gently moved the servant girl's hands to her sides and then started to undo the ties that fastened the girl's camisole undershirt. She pulled the hem up and obediently the girl lifted her arms and let her mistress remove her top. Perky breasts on a slight and pale frame were revealed, unrestrained by a corset and, as her mistress threw the camisole aside her long blonde hair, fastened in a ponytail, fell down across her back. Again she instinctively pulled an arm across her breasts, the nipples rigid like her mistresses, but again the arm was gently removed. Her mistress knelt before her and placed a hand on each side of her knickers, at the hips. The maid put a hand on the waistband to resist but her mistress looked up at her and nodded a reassurance and the hand was removed. The Minister's wife pulled down her maid's knickers and revealed the triangle of darker hair at her crotch, now inches from her face.

'Kiss her' I ordered, before the wife had a chance to remove the maid's tied up stockings. I had intended the Minster's wife to stand and share a kiss with the maid so imagine my, not unpleasant, surprise when she merely leant forward and placed a firm and prolonged kiss on the labia of the servant girl stood before her. My cock twitched violently in my trousers. She sat back and looked up at the girl then round at me, just as I was adjusting my trouser front for comfort. Seeing the effect that her action had wrought on me she leant in again, this time with her tongue extended and lapped at her servant's folds, finding her clitoris and causing her to shudder slightly. A new plan formed in my fevered brain immediately.

'Move her to the couch.'

The mistress stood and led her still shocked servant to the couch and made her lie down. I moved across, keeping my side profile, obscured by the cape's high collar, to the Minister's wife. I undid the jar and dipped two fingers into the lotion. Pulling them out I applied a generous amount to the saliva moistened labia of the servant girl, causing her hips to buck at my touch. I was not able to restrain myself from rubbing my fingers across her a few times more than was strictly necessary before moving away again. The Minister's wife did not need to wait for my instruction and immediately knelt between her maidservant's legs and buried her face between her thighs. The maidservant arched her back off the couch and her mouth opened as a gasp of pure and unadulterated lust left her mouth.

The maidservant squealed and unable to cope with the onslaught of exquisite feelings thrust upon her by the ministrations of her mistresses tongue, aided by the amazing qualities of the Cad's almost magical cream, squirmed backwards along the couch, trying to pull away for respite enough to catch her breath. The Minister's wife would have none of it however, her long cravings, for months denied after the death of the Cad, now finally being satisfied in the most wanton way, she lapped ever harder at the nectar provided by the lotion and her head followed the maid's crotch.

This had the effect of raising her on her knees so that her shapely and quite lovely buttocks were exposed to me, and between them, plump with arousal, peeped her labia, glistening again in the lamplight. Completely caught up in the scene before me I failed to hear a far off commotion, persistent hammering on the front door of the house and raised voices. I plunged two fingers back into the lotion jar and again moved forward to the couch. Without thought or hesitation I slipped the fingers into the Minister's wife's exposed vagina, causing her buck wildly and grind her face into the maid's crotch. Withdrawing my fingers again I smeared the rest of the lotion along her labia with three firm strokes then stood back. The Minister's wife withdrew her face from her maid's crotch, moisture surrounding her mouth and dripping off her chin. The maid, all early reticence blasted from her mind by the erotic onslaught, cried out in despair. The Minister's wife stood and moved to the side of the couch and lifted her leg before straddling her maid's face and lowering her own, lotion smeared, vagina onto her maid's now willing mouth. Before her face was obscured by her Mistresses curly pubic hair I saw the maid's tongue reaching out to meet the folds descending onto her.

The Minster's wife shrieked at the release and arched her face to the ceiling in ecstasy then paused only to look at me through tear washed eyes before plunging back between her servant's quivering thighs. All thoughts of maintaining my disguise and worries over how to keep up the act long enough were gone; in fact I became completely lost in the scene only feet in front of me. As the door to the room bust open, almost splintering the hinges, and the Minister, flanked by two Scotland Yard constables, entered, face reddened with anger, I turned in complete shock towards them. I was struck dumb with shock; a fortunate occurrence as all thoughts of maintaining the Cad's gruff voice had been forgotten. The three men advanced into the room until, at the same time, they all saw the intertwined bodies on the couch and halted in their tracks. The two-women, completely surrendered as they were to their own, lotion-fuelled, desires, had not so much as registered the Minister's arrival and continued writhing and moaning against each other.

The spell holding me had been broken however and to my shock I realised that, at some point in the proceedings, I had quite unconsciously pulled my rigid penis from my trousers and my hand was wrapped around it. I quickly started, with some difficulty, trying to regain my modesty. My movements drew the Minister's attention and his head snapped around. The Constables did not look in my direction however but continued to stare, open-mouthed, at the couch. A look of horror and confusion spread across the Ministers face.

'YOU?!'

His arm raised and his finger pointed at me, silhouetted from his angle, against the French window.

'YOU! It can't be. I killed you!'

He walked slowly towards me, now seemingly oblivious to the moaning still coming from the couch.

'I killed you and slit your throat. What are you? Some foul spirit? We shall see!'

His hand moved beneath his coat and withdrew a small pistol which he started to raise toward me. There was a sudden sharp movement from the far corner of the room and a loud swishing sound. Holmes, who with Lestrade, had been concealed in the room all along, had sprung from his hiding place and, with a quick movement of his cane, struck the pistol from the Minister's hand. A sharp cry intimated that he had also damaged the Minister's wrist in the process.

'Is that confession enough for you Lestrade, in front of a Police Inspector, two Constables and two respected Gentlemen?'

Lestrade followed Holmes from concealment, looking decidedly flustered and moving with the gait of an uncomfortably aroused man. This reminded me that I, also, was not yet properly redressed and I hastened to force my penis back inside my clothing.

'Good enough for me Mr Holmes, and good enough for the rope I'd wager. Get the cuffs on him boys.' The constables made no move. 'CONSTABLES!' shouted Lestrade, breaking their trance, 'And be quicker about it than you were getting in here, you nearly blew the plan!'

Reluctantly the constables tore their gaze from the couch, where the two women were still pleasuring each other and, by the animal sounds they were making, coming close to mutual orgasm. They put the cuffs on the Minister, taking no heed of his anguished shriek as it jarred his injured wrist. As he was led out of the room the women's cries reached a joint crescendo and then died away to be replaced by heavy and ragged breathing. We stood over the couch, regarding them even though they seemed unaware of our presence. The maid had slipped from consciousness as her orgasm had crashed over her and was slumped back on the couch, one leg hanging to the floor. Her Mistress, the wife of the former Minister for European Trade, on the edge of consciousness, drowsily lifted herself off her maid, with some degree of difficulty on weakened legs, and turned to lie beside her, finally surrendering to a blissful sleep, arms around her maid's breasts, legs entwined and face buried in the blonde hair at her neck. Their bodies, chests heaving after their exertions, glistened with a sheen of sweat in the lamplight.