Free Waves of Murder by J B Raphael

minutes,” he shouted into the dining room for Asa to hear.
    “Thankyou darling,” Vicky said.
    “Taxi,” the voice announced over the gate intercom.
    “Just coming,” Jon said to the driver. Asa thanked him and took her beautiful self through the door, Jon watched until she was safely in the cab. As he walked back to the main door, I could give that some! he said to himself.
    “Thank you darling,” Vicky said, slightly slurring her speech, “David and I are going to bed,” she giggled. “the caterers are just leaving, and Oliver and Grant have gone up to the guest room,” she giggled again, “goodnight darlings,” she slurred.
    Jon and Lorna sat in the sumptuous lounge with two large brandies, “What was that Swedish bird all about, she couldn’t take her eyes off you!”
    Lorna laughed, and said, “Not to worry darling, she wasn’t my type, let’s go to bed and fuck.” The sexual crescendo in the house would have breeched the Noise Abatement Laws!
    At 10.30am Jon awoke, Lorna’s side of the bed was empty. He put on his robe and went downstairs following the aroma of coffee. She was sitting with Sir David, who was admiring her cleavage through her very expensive Bloomingdales negligee. “Morning,” Jon said.
    David stood up, “Good morning, Jon,” he said.
    “Coffee, darling?” enquired Lorna.
    “Oh yes, please,” Jon said.
    The two gays also appeared, having smelled the coffee, “Morning!” they said in unison, “what a fabulous evening!” They wore matching red pyjamas with black and red robes. Funny, Jon thought, they weren’t carrying anything when they arrived, must keep them here for special evenings.
    Vicky appeared, “Morning everybody,” she said, as she kissed David’s cheek,” oh Lorna darling, please go and put your tits away under a robe, David’s a randy sod, but he’s my randy sod!” she said, they all laughed, and surprisingly so did Lorna, as she went to get the obligatory garment.
    Grant and Oliver finished their coffee, “We both have consultations this afternoon, so we had better get going,” Grant said.
    “Two of the most eminent surgeons in the country, Oliver does brains and Grant does spines. They share a practice in Harley Street, rich people from all over the globe seek their services, and at £25,000 a procedure, at least, they do very well, very well indeed,” Vicky related.
    After a while they re-appeared looking immaculate in dark suits and carrying a Louis Vuitton valise, “Thank you for a fabulous evening, darling,” they said, in unison at the front door, and both m’wah m’wah’d Vicky.
    “Be in touch soon, won’t you,” she called as Grant started the Aston. They all waved as the Vanquish purred majestically through the iron gates. “I do some referrals to them, of wealthy English people, and they are very generous,” she said as she closed the main door.
    “What was that Swedish piece all about?” asked Jon, “what a waste of womanhood!”
    “Poor Asa, she’s a brilliant heart surgeon, up there with the best, she too has very rich clients and does extremely well. But she is looking for love, male or female, but he or she must match her pound for pound and must want to fuck every day. She is a complete sex addict, and she’s yet to find ‘the one’. She was married once, but it didn’t last long, the poor guy couldn’t satisfy her. I think that they are still actually married, but she lives alone in a lovely town house on the edge of Hampstead Heath.”
    A thought went through Jon’s mind, but he dismissed it quickly, not on the doorstep, he said to himself, but with a smile on his face. But she was gorgeous, oh well, back to the holiday brochures!
    ANOTHER HOLIDAY
    It had been five months since they got back from New York, Jon was still comfortable, but he felt that he wanted to go on another ‘special job’ as he called it. The car business was going well, and he was making two to three thousand a week, sometimes more.