Stein um Stein

Now as I face my lust, my lack of respect and the fact I treated you like a pet I realise I couldn't have any more regrets about what I had been doing with him.

I am sorry my love, but infatuation doesn't begin to describe what I felt, the desires he brought out in me.

When he told me he didn't want to share me anymore, I had a pang of guilt, so he told me I can give you hand jobs. But he insisted that you had to eat my pussy while I did it, he then started to come around and fuck me just before you came home.

I am sorry my love but for a while I got caught up with the idea. We worked out between us the disgusting things I did to your food, much to my shame I think it may have been my suggestion. I am sorry but I just got caught up with him, enamoured by his potency, his authority.

I have just read through what I have written and am even more disgusted with myself than I was before I wrote it. I realise there is no way you can forgive me for the things I have done to you, how can you forgive me when I can't forgive myself.

I have no right to ask and you should not even entertain the idea.

If there is a hell I will rightly burn forevermore.

Goodbye my love Angie XX

She folded the notepaper and put it on the table, resting her handbag on top. Taking a sharp knife from the drawer, crying she walked to the bathroom, stripped off her clothes and ran herself a hot bath.

6.

For a week Martin was kept in that small flat, dining on carry outs, either being quizzed on his knowledge of the Grimms business, coached on his court appearance or his new life as Eric Williams. Almost daily he had to wash and swallow that valuable condom.

He was moved a week later to a more comfortable and secluded location when he was settled Grey paid him a visit. Eric knew something was amiss as soon as Grey entered the cottage. His two guards made themselves scarce.

Grey looked at him, there was a sadness in his eyes.

"Martin, Eric. I have some news, it is not good. We sent someone to retrieve your wife. There's no easy way to say this, she had... has committed suicide. She was found in the bath, she had cut her wrists."

Eric fell to the floor in shock and wept.

Grey looked at him feeling helpless. He wanted to say something, but had no words. The only thing he could think of was the prescribed and insincere "I am sorry for your loss." churned out in American crime TV series. Eventually he managed to say, "You shouldn't blame yourself."

Eric looked up to him from the floor, his face flushed with anger.

"Blame myself? Why would you think I would do that? I blame that fucking cunt and that fucking slag I married. Blaming myself doesn't come into it. To be honest, in a way I am glad, but that don't mean I am not sorry, for fucks sake I loved the bitch for long enough."

Grey studied him and reaching into his jacket passed over his hip flask. "I have two bottles in the car.

"Shit you stole from me no doubt, bring it in I need a drink." Eric snapped.

"Eric, there was a note to you, I have a fax copy, I assume you want to read it. I really don't know whether you should, I am not sure it will help." Grey fished a folded piece of paper from his jacket and passed it to Eric as he spoke.

Eric looked at the paper, weighing up whether he wanted to read her last goodbye. He nodded, more to himself than the inspector, before taking it from the extended hand. Grey watched him as he opened it before leaving him to read it alone. He paused at the door and looked at him, before turning away and going to his car to fetch the booze.

"The fucking cow, the bitch did those things to me and she's taken the easy way out, I wish now I had let her suffer as that cunt's whore." Those were his words, but inside was regret.

He regretted leaving her up there all alone, he regretted getting himself in the situation that led to her being such easy prey, he regretted the whole situation but most of all he now regretted he was never going to hold her in his arms again.

He and Grey got drunk together. Eric talked about his life as Martin, the early happy days with Angie. Grey finally told him his name.

Eric's mood kept changing at one point getting so morose Grey began to wonder if he was going to be able to pull him back. Then he remembered as far as he knew no one had yet told Eric about the repercussions of his booby trap.

"You know the surprise you left for dear old Francois and friends." said Grey, he was rewarded by a smile coming from the tear stained face in front of him.

"Well, these muslim types don't like anything to do with pigs, ha-ram I think they call it, The two blokes from Senegal are pretty devout and er,well it's a bit of a grey area as to whether we should have allowed them a shower. Now, some might say, that we told them that we wouldn't allow them to shower unless they talked, others, might say they were offered a shower if they talked. The official version says they were happy to talk, without legal council, and they sang their socks off.

We should be able to lock Mr Grimard away for a long time on their confessions alone.

Messrs Chiswick were also a great help, you probably won't even have to give evidence." He let that sink in. "That gave us reason to get warrants to search their and his premises. It seems your bosses, the brothers Chiswick had encoded books, and Mr Francois Grimard had the key. Between them, we were able to access all his records, a lot of people are going down. Your little act of revenge has paid dividends, you have been more help than we could have even thought."

Eric smiled at the news, he had not been looking forward to being in court, allowing Franky boy to know he was alive.

"Also, and I wasn't going to tell you this, but the two men are white slavers, your wife was destined for a whorehouse in Tehran, I don't think we could have prevented that for long, even though those bastards will be safely locked up others would have come for her..." Grey fell silent, perhaps he should have kept that information from him.

"I am fucking angry, angry about what he did, she did and the whole fucking fucked up situation." he ranted. "I am fucking angry she can't be punished for what she did...The things she did to me. I'm fucking angry that she's dead and angry she is not here with me, and I am fucking dead. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? A dead man has no friends, no family, no fucking one. I am all alone." He wailed, tears again flowing readily from his eyes.

Grey watched him, feeling impotent, inadequate and useless, he found his eyes misting with empathy.

"You will have support," he offered realising as he spoke how lame it sounded.

"Whoop de fucking do, well that's all right then isn't it?" Eric lashed out with his tongue.

Inspector Grey said nothing, he knew he had said too much, no doubt because he had drunk too much. He looked to the bottles, one was empty, the other wasn't far behind.

Eric stumbled to his feet, swaying wildly he flew at the policeman.

"It's your fault she's dead, you dragged me into this" he raged.

Eric landed on the Inspector before he could rise from his seat and defend himself. He managed to get a couple of blows in before the noise brought the two guards into the room. They separated the two men and restrained Eric. Grey spoke to the two men in French and after sitting Eric back in his chair they returned to their nest.

"Sorry, I shouldn't blame you." Said Eric as he regained his sanity.

"It's okay, I understand. These last few weeks can't have been easy." Grey meant it, he couldn't imagine what this poor man was feeling. He knew the facts, but knowing the facts can't explain the mixture of emotions he must be going through.

"How about we finish this and hit the hay" he suggested.

Eric said nothing and searching the floor he found his overturned glass, he offered it to Grey. Grey poured him the better half and then drained the bottle into his own, raising it he said. "To a new and better life."

"A new life." said Eric in reply, raising his glass.

7.

Martins funeral was quiet, with only a handful of mourners, Angies was destitute, not even her friend Charlotte bothered to attend. Eric wanted to, but was advised against it.

Eric Williams took up residence in Gloucester the Saturday after the funerals, he began working as a data entry clerk, just over a week later.

Francois Grimard was sentenced to fifteen years each for the crimes of human trafficking, living from immoral earnings, exploitation, rape, making threats to facilitate prostitution, conspiracy to commit murder. Ten years for smuggling, another ten for dealing in restricted goods and twenty years for twelve counts of bribing or attempting to bribe a public official. Two more for threatening behaviour and to cap it all a further six months for breaking and entering. All to be served consecutively, he wouldn't be seeing freedom again.

Curtis got a total of seventy years

Charles got forty seven

The two traffickers got twenty years apiece

Many of the Grimm's employees were prosecuted, most were detained with sentences ranging from two to eighteen years, Charlotte got a total of five for procurement and living from immoral earnings.

Eric worked as a data entry clerk until he was sure he was not being watched by Interpol or the British police. He kept vigil until he was sure there had been no surveillance on him for over a year. He took a fortnights holiday driving across Europe, for some reason he only stopped in Brussels for a few hours.

Some months later, he retired to the Algarve, had anyone ever asked about his riches, his story was he had invested well.