Free On the Far Side of Darkness by R. C. Graham Page B

years.
    “Prince Security,” comes a young woman’s voice, “how can I help you?”
    “I need to talk to Mr. Prince, please.”
    “He’s very busy. Can you leave a name and number?”
    "Simon Cleary," I respond before looking to the number on the pay phone and rattling off the digits to her. After thanking me, she hangs up.
    The return call comes in less than a minute. “Hello, Simon,” comes in a cultured English voice, “it’s been a while.”
    “Hello, Major. I require your services.”
    “Details?” Like all good professionals he wastes little time.
    “I need 24/7 surveillance of someone.” I follow up with the place I currently live and all relevant information about Ms. Richardson. “I don’t need microphones in her house or anything like that but I need to know her movements.”
    “How long is this job to run?” is his next question.
    “A week. No longer.”
    “I can have a team in place by ten tomorrow morning. The price is $25,000 US.”
    “Done,” I agree. He won’t haggle.
    “Can you set it up so I can talk straight to your operatives?” I ask. “I don’t want to lose time waiting for reports.”
    “Yes, I can. That will be another $5,000.”
    “Done.”
    He gives me a number to call.
    “Thank you, Major.” I say then. “Always a pleasure to work with you.”
    “Likewise, Mr. Cleary. Good day.” There’s a click and I hang up the phone.
    So, I’ll have knowledge of Mandy’s activities for the next week. Awareness of her movements, likely haunts and contacts will place me in a position to act against her, if need be.
    A sigh passes through my nose. I had hoped never to be in a situation such as this ever again. Conflict is tiresome, often useless and sometimes fatal to the people involved. However, I don’t want the person destroyed to be me.
    That means I prepare.
    I take time to contact one of my Grand Cayman accounts and transfer the Major’s fee.
    Once that is done, I ponder. The night’s still young. There must be something interesting to do. I wander off to look for that, whatever it is.
    But not Diane. Not tonight. I’m not ready to tell her goodbye.
     
    * * * *
     
    There’s a message waiting for me from the Dean when I awake the next night. “Professor Belleveau? We, uh, we need to talk.”
    I walk over to her house. Like the last time I was here she leads me to her home office.
    Unlike our previous meeting I’m surprised by the way she’s dressed. Her white blouse is translucent and the dark bra she wears shows through it. Her green skirt is very short, barely hiding her buttocks. The stockings she wears are white and her jade colored shoes sport very high heels. It seems that Mandy has a uniform for her victims. Is she going to brand them next? I wonder.
    After we’ve seated ourselves, Helen and I stare at each other across her desk. She chews at her lower lip for several seconds. After a deep breath, she gets to the point.
    “I’m discussing your position here with our legal department. There are allegations that you’ve been sexually harassing your students. We have two signed depositions. The school…”
    “Let me guess who the depositions are from,” I interrupt.
    She sits there, mouth open. My breaking into her speech has discomfited her.
    “ Mademoiselles Coburn and Richardson, ne c’est pas ?”
    Her eyes glance to one side and her mouth grimaces, confirming my hypothesis.
    “Is there any other evidence?” I ask next.
    Dr. Metaxas shakes her head in a negative.
    “No other witnesses?”
    Another shake.
    “Forensic evidence, sperm samples etc.?”
    Her gaze fixed on the surface of her desk Helen tells me, “No.”
    “And the people accusing me are a woman failing my class and her lover. That will carry their complaint a long way.”
    She sets her shoulders and looks up again. “That’s enough. We only need an allegation to bring to the board. It isn’t a court of law.”
    I can feel my face go stiff with anger. It takes a moment to