Free Web Site Story by Robert Rankin Page A

this golden girl slept naked. But then he, or possibly she, would have known that already. Sunlight, entering through the puce net curtains, fell upon the sweeping curves of Kelly's voluptuous body. Connoisseurs of the female form remain in disagreement regarding the way that a woman's body should be lit to its most pleasing effect. Many favour candlelight and many more the glow of the full moon. But few would argue that a warm and tousled female, lately risen from the bed and caught in the first rays of the sun, is not an article of such supreme beauty as to raise eulogies from poets and other things from hot-blooded males, which make them late for work.
    Kelly showered in the puce-tiled en suite. Dried and dressed and attended to the minutiae of make-up and hair-combing.
    Young and assured, golden and girl, she went downstairs and ordered the full English breakfast.
     
    It was a little after ten of the joyous sun-kissed morning clock that Chief Constable Peter Westlake, son of the infamous Don and brother to the sinister Arkon Lucifer Abraxus Westlake (who spoke only in iambic pentameter and ate the food upon his dinner plate in alphabetical order), looked up from the duty desk of the Brentford nick to cast a connoisseur's eye in the direction of the beautiful creature that had lately entered the establishment.
    In the opinion of the chief constable, a woman's naked body was lit to its most pleasing effect by a single naked light bulb in a small and naked cell.
    But, as he was very good at his job, Chief Constable Westlake's superiors overlooked his little peccadilloes, only making sure that he was accompanied by at least two women officers when interviewing a female suspect.
    'Ah,' said the chief constable, as Kelly Anna approached the duty desk. 'Come to give yourself up. Very wise.'
    'I have no idea what you're talking about,' said Kelly.
    Chief Constable Westlake shook his head slowly and surely. It was a very long head. It rose almost to a point. It was one of those rare heads that can actually fill a policeman's helmet. Which meant that he'd never had to wear the chinstrap when he'd been a constable. Which had been handy, as he didn't have a chin.
    'You've come to make a full confession,' said the chief constable.
    'I haven't,' said Kelly.
    'No matter. We have many techniques at our disposal.'
    'I've come to report a missing person,' said Kelly. 'And I'd like a printout of all persons reported missing in the London area during the last two months.'
    'Indeed?' said the chief constable, resting his elbows upon the desk and cradling the chinless area of his face between his upturned palms. 'Well, you're certainly at liberty to report a missing person. But I cannot allow you access to police databanks.'
    Kelly Anna Sirjan smiled upon Chief Constable Westlake.
    Chief Constable Westlake smiled back upon her.
    'Oh dear,' said Kelly. 'This puts me in a bit of a dilemma.'
    'It does?' said the chief constable.
    'Yes it does. I don't know whether to employ my womanly charms, flutter my eyelashes and brush my breasts lightly across your desk.'
    The chief constable's pointy head began to nod up and down.
    'Or quote the Freedom of Information Act, which clearly states that the general public are entitled to view any, or all information held within the police databanks that does not refer directly to named criminals or suspects.'
    The chief constable's pointy head ceased nodding. Most men secretly fear intelligent women. Some men openly hate them. CC Westlake was one of the latter.
    'This could take some time,' he said. 'You'd better sit yourself down for a couple of hours.'
    'No problem,' said Kelly. 'I generally like to meditate at this time of the day. It involves entering a state of trance, please wake me gently.'
    Chief Constable Westlake turned his pointy head and shouted, 'Meek! Come here at once!'
    A constable with a black eye and a fat Up appeared from a doorway to the rear of the duty desk. He had been seventh man up to