Richard's Story
by:
Will B
(©
2008 by the Author)
Advisor: E Walk
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are
allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Aided, abetted, encouraged and edited by EW and GY,
Who are two of the nicest guys, editors, mentors, I have met
ever since I started posting in April 2007.
The two newly minted lovers gazed at each other, and Troy leaned forward and lay on Richard’s chest and kissed him.
Richard looked at Troy, in love, and said, “Mmmmm???”
All Troy could say in response was, “Mmmmmmm!!!”
Still in each other’s arms, the two men fell asleep.
Outside, the snow was still falling.
Din, Dan. Den, Dong,
Dong, Den, Din, Dan,
Tong, Tong, Tong, Tong.
The stable clock pealed the Westminster Chimes and then sounded the hour: four o’clock on a snowy Christmas evening.
Richard stirred, and felt Troy snuggled into the curve of his body. He lay still for a minute, thanking God for the wonderful man who was his lover, his partner, his companion, and then he thought that it would be nice to get up and go to tea in the dining hall.
“Hey, Babe? Are you awake?” he asked.
“I am now! Love. What’s up? I mean besides that!”
“You perv! You just want my body.”
“Well, I do, my hot, horny, hunk, . . . but what are you doing, getting up?” Troy asked.
“”I thought we could go for tea at 4:30, and meet some of the other guests. Are you coming? Oh, no! I mean, are you going to accompany me to tea?”
Troy swung his hairy muscular legs over the side of the bed and stood up, and said, “Might as well. There sure isn’t anything to do around here.”
That got him a good-natured head rub from Richard, followed by a kiss.
The two men got up, quickly showered, dressed, and started down the passage to the main part of the house.
* * * * *
At about the same time, Jimmy Venables was in his room, which was in the left hand side wing (as you looked at the front of the manor), perpendicular to the main wing. The room had a double bed, a desk and chair, a television set, and two easy chairs. A door led to an en suite bathroom.
Jimmy was standing in front of a mirror, but he wasn’t looking at his handsome naked body. His head was thrown back, and he was enjoying the sensations of his roommate’s hands caressing, tweaking, rubbing, and lightly pinching and squeezing his taut, smooth, body, with well-defined pecs and the beginning of a six-pack.
“Oooooouuuhhhh! Don’t stop, Nick. Keep on!”
Nick da Contino, a twenty-two-year-old new arrival at Weathercock Manor, was the Assistant Chef. He and Jimmy had immediately been attracted to one another, and they shared a room, a bed, and their bodies as often as their duties would allow. Where Jimmy was tall, slender, and fair-haired, Nick was shorter, muscular, and dark-haired. Jimmy had little body hair, but Nick was hirsute. It was a typical case of opposites attracting.
Nick’s hands kept caressing, rubbing, massaging Jimmy’s body; his hands were moving lower and lower. He had just reached the tower of man-meat that rose from the bush when the two heard the stable clock chime four o’clock.
“Damn! I’ve got to get dressed and go help serve tea,” Jimmy said.
“Never mind, my studly stallion, I have to go too, and start peeling the vegetables for dinner. I’ll just have to wait for my meat until later. Heh heh,” Nick said.
The two young men quickly dressed and started down the corridor of the staff wing, which was perpendicular to the main hall. They met Richard and Troy coming from their suite. As the four approached the dining hall, they could hear a familiar voice coming from the television, “ . . . and so, I and my husband wish each and everyone Happy Christmas. Bless you all.”
Richard was about to comment that they must have missed the Queen’s speech, when a woman’s scream was heard.
“Oh, no! What has someone done to my beautiful wrap? It’s been ruined.” Ponti came out from the dining hall, and he and the other four saw a tall aristocratic woman running toward them, carrying what looked to be a fur wrap. She had rich brown hair, and was wearing a brown silk sheathe dress that clung to her body.
“What is the matter, Lady Muriel?” he asked the distraught woman.
“Someone has slashed my fur wrap. It was a gift from . .er. . . one of my husbands (I can’t remember which one). I wore it to my investiture at Buckingham Palace. It’s ruined, I tell you. Some one will pay!”
“Lady Muriel, please calm yourself. If the wrap cannot be fixed, please be assured that Weathercock Manor will replace it,” Ponti Venables hastened to reassure the distraught woman. “Won’t you sit down and have a cup of tea?”
Nick went towards the kitchen, and Jimmy went to the service area to begin serving tea to the guests. Dinner would not be for several hours, so there were cakes, sandwiches, scones, and all manner of savory bits.
Ponti said to the distraught woman, “Lady Muriel, may I present Messrs. Richard
Vidmark and Troy Hunter? Gentlemen, this is Lady Muriel de Pantel.”
Richard and Troy sat with Lady Muriel, and told her that they were in the U.S. Military Police force, and that in civilian life Richard had been in the Baltimore City Police Department.
“Do you know anyone who might have a grudge against you?” Richard asked.
“No, no, I can’t think of anyone who would do such a thing,” Lady Muriel replied.
“You mentioned an investiture. How were you honored, ma’am?” Troy asked.
“I was made a Dame of the British Empire for my services to British entertainment and culture. Many people have enjoyed my singing and dancing.”
“When did you last see the wrap before you discovered the damage?” Richard asked.
“I arrived yesterday, and Virginia, my maid, hung it in my closet. I haven’t had occasion to look at it since then.”
“Has your maid been in your employ for a long time?”
“Virginia has been with me for several years. She is absolutely devoted to me. I am sure she had nothing to do with this.”
“Could we have her come and tell us if she knows anything about this?” Troy asked.
“Oh, well, if you must, but I’m sure she knows nothing.”
Ponti rang for the butler. “Chumley, would you please ask Lady Muriel’s maid to join us in the dining hall? Don’t say what it’s about.”
“Very good , Sir.” Chumley bowed and left the room. In a few minutes a young woman came in.
“You wanted to see me, Lady Muriel?” Virginia was a slim woman of about twenty-five, wearing a blue dress that matched her eyes.
“Yes, Virginia. Did you have any occasion to look at my fur wrap after you put it in the cupboard?”
“Oh, no, ma’am. I hadn’t looked at it until now. . . .” Her voice trailed away as she saw the garment in tatters. “Oh, who could have done such a thing?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. These two gentlemen are Richard Vidmark and Troy Hunter. They’re with the U. S. Military Police, and they’re trying to help us get to the bottom of this mystery,” Lady Muriel said.
Before anything else could be said, Chumley came back into the room, looking very distressed. His calm butler’s manner was shaken! He went to Ponti and said, “Could you step out in the hall, Sir. I’m afraid there has been more vandalism! It’s in the Spencer sitting room.”
Ponti went out into the Spencer Room. When he saw what damage had been done, he said, “Ask Mr. Richard and Mr. Troy to come in here, please.”
When the two military policemen came out into the room, they saw that a portrait of Sir Winston Churchill, one of Great Britain’s greatest statesmen, had been savagely slashed with a knife.
Ponti was visibly shaken. “Gentlemen, I don’t want to alarm the other guests, but we seem to be snowed in, and some maniac is running around with a knife. What can we do?”
Before either of the men could answer, Jimmy came running in. “Dad, come quick! There’s a fire in the Winston Parlor.” Ponti, Chumley, and Troy and Richard followed the young man into the Parlor. They saw that a chesterfield sofa was ablaze.
Chumley got a fire extinguisher and quickly put the fire out. Richard opened the windows to let the smoke escape. He noticed that it had stopped snowing.
He turned to see Ponti Venables sitting in a chair looking dejected. “I’m beginning to think we should take that syndicate’s offer and sell Weathercock Manor!”
“What syndicate is that, Ponti?” Richard asked.
“It’s an American syndicate that wants to buy the Manor and establish a chain of gambling casinos throughout the country,” the worried man replied. “Other owners of hotels and inns have had similar incidents of vandalism, forcing them to sell out. Scotland Yard has been unable to find any evidence linking the vandalism to the syndicate, but . . . oh, I don’t know! I can’t risk the lives of my guests.”
“Ponti, don’t give up! I’m beginning to get the glimmerings of an idea. Would you mind if I made some phone calls -- one of them to be a call to Baltimore, Maryland, in the United States?”
Ponti sat up then he stood up and squared his shoulders. “Richard, you're giving me hope. Thank you. By all means, make all the phone calls you wish. Jimmy, Chumley, please give Mr. Richard and Mr. Troy any assistance they need!”
“Chumley, can you serve Christmas dinner at the usual time?” Richard asked.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Oh, and Chumley, can you bring me a list of all the staff, including the dates when they started working here.”
“Yes, Mr. Richard. Right away, Sir.”
Chumley moved off, not running, mind you, as that would not be appropriate for a dignified butler, but as one who had the best interests of the family at heart; he was, shall we say, walking very, very fast?
“Jimmy, after dinner, I would like to have all the staff join the guests in the dining hall. I may have some announcements to make.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll tell everyone to be there.”
Ponti left to be sure that everything would be in readiness for Christmas dinner. Chumley went to tell all the staff to be ready to attend an important meeting after dinner, and Jimmy went to tell all the guests that dinner would be served as usual at eight o'clock.
Richard and Troy went into the library to make their phone calls.
Dinner was served promptly at eight, with all the pomp and circumstance that befitted the Venables of Weathercock Manor. After a clear soup, there was turkey, baked to a golden brown, with delicious stuffing and gravy. There was a glazed ham. There was a roast of beef. There were all kinds of vegetables. There were salads. And, finally, there were the sweets (or desserts, as the Americans would say). There were a variety of fine wines.
At the end of the meal, Ponti stood up, and raised his glass and said “Ladies and gentlemen, the Queen!”
“Hear, hear.” Everyone took a hearty sip of the wine.
Ponti raised his glass again and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, The President of the United States.”
Again, cries of “Hear, hear,” were heard.
Richard stood up, and raised his glass, and said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you our host, Pontius Venables. He and his staff have worked hard to create this beautiful home away from home where we have been enjoying this holiday.”
Again, the guests responded with cries of “Hear, hear.”
Richard held up his hand for silence, and said, “Our host has asked me to look into some recent events, and I feel I have found the solution to the problem. I . . .”
Chumley came into the dining hall, and went to Ponti Venables and whispered something. Ponti blanched, and said, “Excuse me, Richard, and ladies and gentlemen. While the waiters pour some more wine, might I ask you and Mr. Hunter to come with me. There is something we must see. Jimmy, you come, too.”
Chumley led the four men down a side corridor to yet another little used room.
“One of the maids heard noises coming from this room, and she came to get me,” Chumley said. “When I opened the door and saw what was inside, I thought I should get you immediately, Sir.”
“Quite right, Chumley. Let’s see what’s in here,” Ponti said.
He opened the door and the men went into the room, where they saw . . .
To be continued.
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Posted: 07/11/08