Free Copper by Vanessa Devereaux Page B

before I untied my ankles. I slid off the bed and proceeded to the bathroom where I had left my clothes. I spread my legs, removed the vinegar-soaked sponge and then used the now cold water to clean my pussy. I dressed quickly. I had another client waiting in Hampstead at noon. I took the money off the shelf where Sir Michael always left it for me. Perhaps it had been my imagination that the man had not been him. Maybe I was tired and my mind played tricks on me.
    As I left the bathroom and then headed down the hallway, I heard music playing. Beautiful music, and it made me want to stand there and listen. I knew I should not, because Sir Michael liked me gone as soon as we were done with our business.
    A cello sang out and then I caught sight of something flowing out from under his study door. Red, but not wine, something thicker . Blood .
    I panicked, not knowing what to do, and wondered if I should simply run and scream. However, something led me to the door. I was about to do what was unforgiveable and invade Sir Michael’s private sanctuary. I opened his study door and then screamed at the top of my lungs when I saw the image before me.

Chapter Two
     
    “Perhaps some vital evidence remains on her body. I think we should search her to see what we can find.”
    I turned away from the police officers who had arrived at Sir Michael’s shortly after I had run screaming outside onto the pavement. They did nothing to lower their voices. I knew and understood women in my profession did not get or deserve respect, but Sir Michael was dead, and I did not consider it a laughing matter.
    “I volunteer to search her pussy,” said a tall uniformed officer as the other men burst out laughing. “I am guessing it could hide a thing or two.”
    I now wished I had run and run and not alerted the police to what I had found. However, I felt it was my duty, and the poor man could have sat in his own blood for hours until the staff returned to their duties.
    I finally turned around and found the courage to face them “You can do so, by all means, but I doubt on a copper’s wages you could afford such a privilege.”
    “Oh, listen to Miss High and Mighty,” said the biggest one of the bunch. He stepped toward me, and I was positive he was going to grab me by the collar of my dress. “You are nothing but a slut,” he spat into my face.
    “How dare you talk to a woman like that.” A tall dark-haired man entered the room. “You owe the lady an apology,” he said.
    The policemen fell silent.
    “Well, I am waiting to hear something,” said the man.
    “Sorry, miss, some silly misunderstanding,” said the policeman who had called me a slut, tipping his hat at me.
    “Now all of you get about your work, and I never want to hear offensive remarks cross your lips again or you will be reported and put on suspension.”
    All the men mumbled under their breath and scattered. The man turned around to look at me. His eyes were a light shade of blue. They had the sort of look that told me he had had sorrow in his life. A person’s eyes tell their life story, and this man ran away from pain. I wanted to reach up and stroke the side of his face. Part of my success as an escort to London’s wealthy men had been knowing what bothered them.
    He lifted his hat to me. “Detective Mark Hargreeves, miss.”
    I held out my hand. “Emma Snow.”
    He shook it while not taking his gaze off me. “Perhaps we can go into the downstairs parlor and talk.”
    I nodded and followed behind him. I saw the staff of Sir Michael’s for the very first time. One maid glanced sideways at me and dabbed her eyes before darting out of the way. We crossed the black and white checkered floor and ventured into a room that until now had been closed and off limits to me.
    Detective Hargreeves pushed open the door and held it while I crossed the threshold. He followed me inside and then shut it firmly. Books lined every wall, a dark green couch sat against one of them