Page 4 of Mayfair Madame
Reluctantly, I did as she suggested and curled into a ball as a steady stream of tears fell. I’d allow this time to reflect and come to terms with his assault, but I wouldn’t be a victim. Not again.
Chapter Two
Ellie
Mayfair. One of the most exclusive areas of London, inhabited predominantly by the rich and famous. It wasn’t often we got called out here and almost never to attend an assault.
More often, the elite kept themselves to themselves and took care of business on their terms, so it was unusual to receive the call.
“Fuck, this is some property,” my partner said as we pulled up outside. “Gotta be worth a few million at least.”
“Try about twenty-five million. Where do they find the money?” I peered through the windscreen at the impressive red-brick property.
Located on Mount Street, just off Park Lane, the mansion was close to Hyde Park and Grosvenor Park. The designer stores of Knightsbridge were a stone’s throw away, but I’d hazard a guess that the occupants didn’t do their own shopping. I couldn’t imagine ever living here. Not that I’d have the chance, mind.
“I’ve no idea, but I wouldn’t say no to living here. What have we got anyway?”
“An incident.” I got out of the car. “An assault was all we got. No idea what to expect.”
“I fucking hate it when that happens. And why isn’t this a job for uniform? Why send out two detectives to investigate?”
“Look around you, Josh. They won’t want a marked police car sitting outside. It’ll bring down the house prices. At least if it’s us, we’re plain clothed in an unmarked car.”
“I guess you’re right, but I still say it’s a job for uniform.”
We climbed the few steps to the front door and knocked. I shuffled my feet, nervous about what we’d find. I’d not been here long, having transferred from Chester a few months earlier.
“Let me do the talking,” Josh said. “I know these kinds of people better than you do. Kid gloves and all that.”
“Whatever you say.” I wasn’t happy about it, but hewasthe senior officer.
A small woman opened the door and gestured for us to enter.
“Lady Hartlebury is waiting upstairs for you. If you’d like to follow me.”
I looked over at Josh and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged, and we did as she asked, walking up two flights of stairs.
People milled about, and I wondered what had been going on.
“Why are there so many people here? Was there a party or something?” Josh asked.
“Yes, Lady Hartlebury was hosting an event for a few of her closest friends. I’m sure she’ll explain.”
I’d never seen a house like this in my life. It was huge. Everything was white: the walls, the carpets, the furniture. Not a hint of colour, other than a splash of gold here and there. Ornately plastered ceilings, large wooden doors and many, many paintings. Ancestors maybe?
The maid—I assumed—opened the door to a bedroom. Still white, but at least it held some colour. A teal armchair sat in one corner; matching cushions and a comforter lay on the bed. A fire roared in the hearth, heating the room.
An older lady sat on the bed, comforting a black woman curled in on herself.
“Officers.” She stood and offered her hand to us. “This is my friend Naomi. She was sexually assaulted earlier. I think one of you needs to take her statement. The other can come with me, and I’ll take you to the man who did it to her. I’ll warn you, though. He wishes to press charges against her.”
Okay, then. Sounded like a fun night had been had by all.
“Sharpe,” Josh said, “you stay here with the woman, and I’ll go find out what happened. Is there somewhere we can interview this man?”
“Of course. We felt it best to keep them apart, so he’s upstairs in the lounge. I’ll take you to him. Will you be okay, Naomi? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Her friend nodded, and she left the room, followed by Josh.
