Reckless Endangerment (27 page)

‘I’ll think of something,’ said the man. Now it was his turn to lean closer and whisper. ‘Usual hotel?’

‘Of course,’ said Cindy.

‘Call me with the room number.’

Nine hours later, the huge aircraft touched down at Miami International, taxied to the walkway and the passengers began to alight.

‘Enjoy your stay, sir,’ said Cindy to the man from first class. She was standing at the exit, a fixed smile on her face, bidding farewell to the disembarking passengers. ‘I hope we’ll see you again soon.’

‘You know jolly well you will. Quite soon,’ said the man in a voice that only Cindy heard.

Once the enormous airliner was empty of passengers, the crew gathered their overnight suitcases and disembarked, making their way to customs and thence to the crew bus that awaited them outside the airport terminal.

Once in her room at the Shannon Hotel, Cindy made a phone call, stripped off her clothes and took a shower. Returning to the bedroom, she dabbed Lancôme Trésor on her neck and between her breasts. Next, she donned frilly white underwear and a summer dress. Finally she slid her bare feet into a pair of high-heeled mules.

She had to wait only fifteen minutes before the expected knock came at her door.

‘Just coming, darling.’ Cindy opened the door and the passenger she had served on the flight that morning entered the room. But before locking the door, he hung a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign outside. As he always did on these occasions.

Later, when the couple were lying side by side and perspiring freely from the exertions of their lovemaking, the man raised himself on one elbow and gazed down at the girl.

‘You are a thoroughly wanton woman, Cindy Patterson,’ he said, tracing little patterns on her damp breast with a finger. ‘But you know that, don’t you?’

‘Only when I’m with you, darling.’ Cindy placed her hands behind her head and stretched sensuously.

‘Oh, come on,’ said the man teasingly. ‘I’d bet you’d jump into bed with any man who asked you.’

‘You know that’s not true.’ Cindy lowered her arms and prodded him gently in the chest.

‘Of course I do, darling.’ The man laughed and relaxed against the pillows.

‘But you’d hop into bed with any available woman.’

‘There was a time when I would’ve done,’ said the man. ‘But not any more, because there’s something important I want to ask you about. Something really important.’

It was a good eighteen months after the murder of Sharon Gregory that Kate came into my office flourishing a copy of the
Daily Telegraph.

‘There’s an interesting piece in the paper this morning, guv.’

‘Oh? What’s that?’

Kate opened the newspaper and read the piece that had caught her eye in the Court and Social Section. ‘“The marriage took place quietly in Capri last week between Julian, Earl Dretford, son of the late Earl and the dowager Countess Dretford, of London, and Miss Cindy Patterson, daughter of Ralph and Elizabeth Patterson of Truro, Cornwall.”’ She looked up. ‘Isn’t that the air hostess who was Sharon Gregory’s crewmate, guv?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It seems that Julian Reed, now the Earl Dretford, has a liking for air hostesses.’

‘I hope the new Countess Dretford will enjoy swingers’ parties,’ said Kate.