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 EPISODE: 013 |
First published: 9th August 2021
Status: COMPLETE & PUBLISHED.
Revisions: 4 [last revised February 2020]
Version: Final.
Published Episode No. 13
Previous episode: "Alexandra, Harry, Tess & Lisa too...."
Next episode: “Alexandra and the professor.”
Angel-in-charge: Margret
Team Assigned: Team 74
Mission: 7 – 592146 - 8 - 2016
This story originally appeared on the author's original website called: 'The amazing adventures of Jericho Tibbs!' and was transferred to the new site: 'The Temporal Detectives' in due course. That 'legacy' site is still available but receives no updates or new material.
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THIS EPISODE MAY CONTAIN THE FOLLOWING WARNINGS:SMOKING - ALCOHOL USE - VIOLENCE [INCLUDING SEXUAL VIOLENCE & BDSM] - STRONG LANGUAGE - GRAPHIC HARD SEX REFERENCES INCLUDING PROSTITUTION AND DIVERSE SEXUAL PRACTISES - DRUG REFERENCES - ANTI-RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS AND OPINIONS - HUMAN TRAFFICKING - COMMENTS AND BEHAVIOUR THAT MAY OFFEND SOME PEOPLE BUT WERE CONSIDERED 'NORMAL' IN THE TIME PERIOD. |
IF YOU ARE BELIEVE YOU MAY BE OFFENDED BY ANYTHING CONTAINED IN THIS WRITTEN WORK, THEN DON'T READ IT AND CLOSE THE PAGE! CAUTION: “THIS EPISODE COULD CONTAIN VERY STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE [including sexual violence] HORROR AND GRAPHIC, STRONG SEXUAL REFERENCES. RECOMMENDED suitable for persons aged 18+ years only.”  |
Gregorian Calendar: MMXVI
Muslim Calendar: 1437 - 1438 [AH]
Hebrew calendar: 5776-5777
Christian Calendar: 2016AD
This episode is a specially extended version and has a reading time of approximately 90 minutes.
This story can be found in "The adventures of Alexandra: Series 2." which can be obtained from 'Amazon.com' and all good bookshops!
This episode is LINKED to the following episodes of the "ALEXANDRA" series:
NONE CURRENTLY
1. LOURDES ART GALLERY, LONDON 2016.
“I
can’t believe this bloody queue; it’s going to take an hour at least to get
in.” Owen moaned and sipped his coffee from the ‘Starbucks’ coffee shop on
the corner. “At least the coffee is drinkable.” He added and stared at the
people in the line before him. Alex gripped her coffee with both hands – gloved
– and smiled. “I wish I had worn more clothes; my bloody bum is freezing
despite the woollen tights.” Owen just chuckled; “You know that woollen tights
have to be the biggest turn off in history for men.”
Alex nodded; “Don’t bleeding care; my butt would be ice without them.” She sipped her coffee; at least moaning Owen was right about the damn coffee and turned to Jericho who seemed impervious to the cold. His long dark frock coat was open, and he wore no gloves. He was staring at a page of a newspaper, folded in one hand and holding his coffee with the other.
“Couldn’t we just have sneaked in during the night or something?” she asked, and he smiled; “No, the queue will start moving in a moment and we’ll be in quite quickly. Finish your coffee and tell Owen to stop bleeding moaning; he’s been dead for seven hundred years so I should think he’ll be used to it by now.” That made Alex smile and she turned to Wilson who was reading a copy of the gallery guidebook. She tapped his arm and whispered; “Must be full of naked ladies to get your undivided interest.” Wilson just smiled; “There are no pictures of the painting’s that contain the supposed missing girls. So, we’ll have to wait until we’re inside to check the images against Human records.” He spoke quietly, close to her ear.
Jericho
stuck his head between the two; “We’ll soon know if we have a mission or not,
so an hour’s queuing won’t hurt us. This could be the shortest mission we’ve
ever undertaken. I hope it is because we really need to look at that strange
happening on that Mar’s mission.” He went back to his paper and Owen tapped it;
“What’s so interesting boss?”
Jericho shrugged his shoulders and sipped his coffee; “One of the missing girl’s mother’s is demanding a private viewing of the painting ‘Naked Nymphs in Woodlands’ painted in 1870 by Cranfield Sommers. She says’ she will be able to put an end to the nonsense of it being her daughter and police can concentrate on the catching the real abductors.” He chuckled, adding; “She call’s time travel utter nonsense!”
Jericho looked up and smiled; “Head’s up people; the doors are finally opening and the queues moving at last. Let’s take a look at his main pictures.” Alex sighed; “Thank for that; I think my bum cheeks have turned purple.” She finished her coffee and shivered a little.
Owen grinned; “Now that’s something I would love to see.”
“In
your bleeding dreams.” Muttered Alex but smiled at him. His alter-ego
‘Jackie’ had seen her naked bum several times. They pushed through the doors
and dumped their coffee cups in a nearby recycling bin and Owen moaned again,
pulling open his heavy coat. “It’s like a bleeding sauna in here!” Wilson
slapped his arm; “I told you, if you keep dressing up as a woman; you’ll start
behaving like one and moan all the time.” Owen didn’t reply but followed Jericho
as he strode towards the gallery’s painting hall.
“You have the guidebook, where do we find these damn pictures.” Jericho asked Wilson and he indicated down a well-lit corridor. “This way Jericho; the ‘Victorian Modern Renaissance’ section is just off this corridor.” They followed Wilson in silence with Alex stripping off her gloves, hat and coat. Owen took her coat and carried it for her. Several men all turned to admire her chic winter outfit. That made Alex moan about being a ‘bloody sex object’. Jericho chuckled; “Well, we’re in a gallery filled with beautiful things, so they’re just admiring one more.” Now that did make her smile a little.
Wilson gestured to a large crowd standing beneath a painting which also had a security guard next to it. “That’s one of the paintings; ‘The Sheiks Harem’ painted in 1871, again by Cranfield Sommers. We’ll start there. Mirror at the ready Owen?” Owen nodded and accepted Jericho’s newspaper to cover his mirror. They eased through the people and Alex didn’t smile; “Loads of naked young girls and a fat Arab. Did this Cranfield bloke paint anything other than naked girls?” A couple of people nearby chuckled and one woman agreed with her.
Owen lowered the newspaper and gestured for the other’s to follow him. They gathered about a sculpture of two naked men, entwining with a huge snake. It was painted like an American flag. Wilson just shook his head and muttered; “People have died for that flag.” He clearly wasn’t impressed by whatever the artist was trying to say. Owen looked around and spoke quietly.
”Not
an exact match but Human Records gives it an 90% match with Danielle Goldsmith,
born in 1997 and is currently missing from the Human Timeline and is also a
Missing soul. She’s one of the missing girls.”
Jericho sighed and folded his arms; “Come on, let’s check out the other two paintings.” The team wandered back down the corridor and found the painting ‘‘Naked Nymphs in Woodlands’ painted in 1870, again by Cranfield Sommers. Owen simply nodded his head and whispered; “Another 90% match and yes, one of the missing girls.” They found the final painting – again surrounded by a crowd – and Owen checked his mirror. He nodded again and mouthed; “90% match again and one of the girls.”
They gathered at the end of the corridor and Jericho suddenly walked off to a painting that had several people beneath it. “What’s the bloodhound spotted now?” Owen said, pushing his mirror back into his coat pocket. They stood beneath the painting and Jericho read out the plaque; “The Queen of Fairyland’ painted by Granfied Sommers in 1870.”
Wilson whistled softly; “If that’s not our Alex, then I’m a monkey’s uncle.” They all agreed – including Alex – that it was her double. The ‘Fairy Queen’ was stark naked apart from some wings and a flower crown, sprawled across a golden sheet laid upon fallen trees. A well-equipped donkey stood by, with a smile on his face.
Owen operated his mirror under the newspaper and chuckled; “Exact match of Lady Alexandra Cappanni born 1871, died 1901. File now classified. Permission to view must be Angel authorised. He looked up and grinned. “Well, that’s our Alex all right, so the mission must be on.”
Jericho nodded and folded his arms; “Come on, let’s get some lunch and get hold of Supplies. We’re headed back to 1870 and Alex can get her portrait done.” Everyone agreed and they headed for the main doors. Alex had her arm through Owens’s and said quietly; “Why the hell a bloody donkey with his dick hanging down? That’s almost perversion and I thought the Victorians were dead against such things?”
Wilson chuckled; “They were the ultimate hypocrites; sexually repressed in their daily lives but a total free for all if it was considered a work of art. The wealthy enjoyed promiscuous lives and the poor was sexually repressed.”
They headed for a McDonald’s opposite and Owen had three burgers with all the trimmings. Alex had some fries and Wilson, and Jericho almost enjoyed a cheeseburger each. They sipped coffee and Jericho outlined the plan. “What I do know; is that yet again, I have to show my bloody bits off!” Alex moaned and Wilson tapped her arm; “Yes, but you do it with such elegance and grace my dear.” Now that did make Owen and Jericho chuckle. Alex just nibbled on her fires and didn’t smile.
2. GYPSIES ON THE COMMON.
Owen and Alex simply couldn’t stop giggling at seeing Jericho and Wilson in their ‘costumes’. Jericho was wearing red trousers with a bright yellow waist coat and a frilly white blouse. A red beret lay on the back of his head, but it was the two big gold earrings that really set the pair off. Wilson was wearing check trousers, red shirt and black bowler hat. He also wore a single large, gold earring; he carried a guitar which he strummed with some apparent skill. They both looked like refugees from a ‘Village People’ concert according to Owen.
He was dressed in black and white stripped trousers, white blouse and black waistcoat. Owen wore small gold earrings and carried a banjo which he could actually play. Alex laughed outright at seeing him; “You look like a bloody negative!” she declared. Nobody thought her costume was funny; a beautiful blue and white knee length dress with lots of frilly white petticoats and black knee-length boots. Her tight bodice pushed up her magnificent breasts and displayed her charms to perfection; she wore a black ribbon around her neck and another holding her hair in a ponytail. She actually did the look the part of a gypsy beauty.
The two caravans headed down Summer Street and pulled onto the common; Jericho was surprised to see another caravan parked near some trees. Two magnificent black horses were tied up nearby and a washing line was strung between two trees. A small fire was burning brightly with a large black pot hanging over it; suspended between three metal sticks. “Looks like we have neighbours.” He said to Alex and guided their pair of horses to a quiet part of the common, also near some trees. Wilson driving the caravan behind with Owen followed and they set up camp. Jericho was playing a character called ‘Jericho Williams’ and Alex was his wife ‘Sabina Williams’.
Owen was ‘Owen Williams’ and was the brother of Jericho. Wilson was their American ‘Cousin’ Wilson Hearn, travelling with the family after arriving from New York. Part of their cover story was that he had to leave the country pretty quick for an undisclosed reason and was, of course, taken in by his English relatives without question.
Alex was stirring a huge pot of stew, when she saw the two people walking towards to the other caravan. “Jericho dear, we have company.” She shouted and stood hands on hips, still clutching the big spoon. Jericho emerged from their caravan, where he had been consulting his mirror for mission updates. He joined ‘Sabina’ by the fire and slapped a huge round loaf on the small table which also contained plates and spoons.
Owen and Wilson sat by the fire and Wilson strummed his guitar, singing softly. Owen was carefully reading his mirror in his lap and said quietly; “A certain Noah Cooper and his young wife called ‘Freedom’. They’re ‘black blood’ gypsies alright.” He hid his mirror and stood. The couple walked over, and Noah spoke in the ‘Romany’ tongue, which of course, the temporal detectives could understand. They naturally spoke and understood any language spoken to them. There was one exception to this; no detectives could speak Welsh! Well, except those who were bloody Welsh when alive.
Jericho invited the pair to join them and break bread together. Noah was a big powerful man dressed as colourfully as Jericho or Wilson and to Alex [and Owen….] was a handsome dark man. He had a stunning deep voice, and the team was to find he could sing like an opera star. His young wife Freedom was a dark eyed beauty and was just a little older than Owen. She was dressed like Alex with knee length skirt and boots. Her bosom wasn’t so pronounced, and her raven black hair cascaded around her shoulders. Noah told her to bring whisky, the good stuff.
Owen – as a sign of respect – gave the big man his chair and sat on the dry grass, cradling his banjo. Noah was immediately interested in Wilson and Jericho came out with the ‘cover’ story.
Wilson added to it by simply saying; “The gorgers didn’t want me around anymore.” That made Noah chuckle and he accepted a plate of stew from Sabina and broke the loaf with Jericho and they handed each other the piece they had taken. Freedom returned with a bottle of decent whisky and several small glasses in a little decorated wooden box.
The impromptu little dinner party lasted until the sunset and the party broke up and everyone returned to their caravans. Alex sat brushing her hair as Jericho threw himself on the floor with just a pillow for company. Alex was always amazed by his sheer ability to sleep soundly on anything. She settled in bed and lowered the oil lamp and peered through the curtains. The other caravan was in darkness, and she wondered about the age difference between Noah and Freedom, who had stated that the pair had been married for over a year. “Why no children yet?” Alex muttered to herself and drifted off to sleep.
Owen and Wilson were playing cards for Victorian pennies and Owen had won nearly a shilling before the pair called it quits and Wilson snored away in the single bed and Owen slept on the floor – not as soundly as Jericho it must be said – but being an ex-novice monk from the fourteen hundreds; he was used to lots of discomfort. He consulted his mirror before trying to sleep and found a message from Jericho; their human agents had been spreading the word in the small town about the arrival of ‘Sabina’ the true fortune teller. That was the other half of their cover story; Alex could tell fortunes with real accuracy. What would happen of course is that Owen would check the person with his mirror before being shown into her tent and she would know all she needs to about the person!
As Wilson said, “It’s not cheating people; she WILL know their future!” The night passed without incident and after breakfast, Jericho and Wilson set up the tent and Owen placed a few chairs outside and sat strumming his banjo. Alex sat in the gaudy tent and practiced her routine. They didn’t have to wait long; two elderly women turned up and crossed her palm with ‘silver’ – sixpence apiece – and she read the cards and her crystal ball. She got it so accurate and true for one woman that the old lady almost fainted and Owen had to give her water and then some brandy for her to recover.
Jericho and Wilson headed into the town and found a local publican that would have the girls dance and the gypsy ‘band’ entertain his customers for half a crown a night. He was particularly interested in the girls – as would his male customers – and asked constantly if they were pretty. Jericho sung their praises and bought the publican a few beers and managed to winkle from the man, that artists from the local ‘commune’ frequented his pub and one was indeed: the Cranfield Sommers.
They
returned to the Common with some shopping and a decent bottle of whisky. Alex
had done nine readings; all hugely successful of course and persuaded Freedom
to dance with her at the pub. They practiced their routine between Alex’s
customers and Freedom excitedly told Noah that Sabina ‘had the gift’.
He was skeptical at first until she told him about her own reading with
Sabina [for free of course]. He had to sit down; his grandmother had told him
about such women of pure black blood, but he never thought he would actually
meet one!
The team and their two ‘guests’ appeared at the ‘King’s Head’ that summer evening and found the place packed. “Well, there’s no bleeding TV or nightclubs in 1870 so we are the next best thing.” Wilson explained to a surprised Owen. The girls danced barefoot on the small stage whilst Jericho slapped his tambourine, Wilson and Owen played their guitar and banjo, then Noah sung at the close of the session; his voice was simply incredible. They certainly received lots of appreciative applause from the customers; even the women present.
The big publican was more than pleased to book them again the following Saturday and for three shillings this time. He knew good entertainment that brought the punters in to spend money. The following morning Jericho awoke and went for a piss in the trees and saw several caravans coming down Summer Street. Noah had said that the rest of the family would be joining him and he especially wanted Jericho’s family to meet his ‘cousin’ Samson Cooper; a well-known bare knuckle boxer who had quite a reputation. He confided to Jericho that’s why they were here, there was match arranged between Samson and ‘Big Dan Thatcher’ a local champion. The bets were currently even on both men. But Noah had backed his cousin with a golden guinea at three to one. Noah and Freedom could live well on those winnings through the winter months.
The local magistrate – Sir William Drudge – was a fanatic for the ‘Gentleman’s Sport and the noble art’ and had even agreed to be referee! He was even known in the gypsy communities to be fair and honest and was more than acceptable as Referee and judge of the contest. The family invited Jericho and his family over for dinner which turned into music and dancing. Owen amused the children with some magic tricks and silly songs. Sabina helped the other woman with preparing food and was amazed at some of the gossip between the women. She also found just how much power women commanded in family; especially the revered grandmothers, their words were practically law within the family.
She met Unity – a woman who was apparently nearly seventy years old [a very good age for the times] – who also was known to have ‘the gift’. She gripped Alex’s hand and slowly smiled, whispering in her ear; “Your quite beautiful my child and have travelled much and seen many strange things with your family. You will pass over when the new century is but a year old. But you know that already my dear and death won’t hold you back in your adventures.” The old lady smiled and patted a very shocked Alex’s hand. “Go in peace my child. You work for a great power now but beware of the Italian. He speaks falsehoods and will cause you much misery and doesn’t weep much at your passing. A clock rules his miserable life and passing time is his torture. If you can; change you time with him and seek out the dark man with true love in his big heart.”
The old lady then retired to her caravan; helped by her numerous granddaughters and Alex returned to the team in quite a state of shock. She had been told about true ‘passers’ who really did have the gift, but she had never met one like Unity before. The old woman knew exactly who she was now and what had happened to her with Henri the Italian Count. She really did sleep badly that night and her head filled with thoughts of “the dark man with true love in his big heart.”
3. AN ENCOUNTER WITH A BIG MAN.
Alex woke just after midnight and groaned; she needed to pee. She climbed from the bed and wrapped her pink bed jacket about herself and stepped over the quietly snoring Jericho and headed for the clump of trees nearby. She squatted down and pulled up her short nightie and started to pee with some relief. That's when she heard the big man chuckle, standing by a huge tree, pissing against it. He was massive [in all respects!] and couldn't be anyone else other than Samson Cooper. He smiled at her; "Do you know that I've never seen one without hair and I do like it. I wouldn't get my chin rubbed like I had ran a bleeding brush over it!" He shook his big cock and wiped his hands on his underpants which were all he had on.
Alex smiled at his muscles; the man didn't have an ounce of fat on him and she had already seen that he was built like an Arabian stallion. She stared at his bulging underpants; he had a bloody erection from watching her piss. She slowly rose and didn't attempt to pull down her nightie. Samson grunted and walked over to her and slowly took hold of her hand, guiding it down to his erection. She gripped it through the soft cotton and stared at his battered face. He slowly smiled and simply pulled down her bed jacket and threw it on the ground. His eyes widened at the sight of her big breasts under the thin nightdress. Alex knelt and slowly pulled down the underpants; gripping his big cock with both hands and guided it into her mouth. Samson groaned quietly as her expert tongue and lips went to work. He stroked her hair and whispered encouragement.
Alex was naked on her back - using her bed jacket as a blanket - legs open as the big man enjoyed licking and fingering her fanny with some skill. She ran her hands over his bare head and groaned a little. He didn't even bother coming up for breath until satisfied that Alex was wet enough to take him. He knelt between her open legs and gently pushed his big cock into her. Alex now really did groan as she was filled up with his massive member. "Christ woman you are tight." he whispered and Alex almost chuckled; no man had said that to her in some time!
He fucked her slowly and gently at first until Alex signalled that he could start thrusting as he wished. She gripped his big shoulders as he fucked her hard and his mouth enjoyed those big tits and large hard nipples. Alex lifted her bum in time with his thrusts and she felt the tightness in her belly as the first little orgasm came. He was dominating her totally, fucking her whilst almost doing press-ups, only his mouth never left those heaving big tits. After a few minutes they changed position with Alex kneeling on her bed jacket and Samson fucking her 'doggy-style' with his big hands pulling at her tits like he was trying to milk them.
They ended up standing against the big tree with Alex's hands pressed against the trunk and Samson behind her, she would swear that she could feel his cock in her stomach at one point and her climax gushed from her vagina like someone had turned on a tap. She really struggled not to scream as he fucked her hard and fast against the rough tree. Finally, he groaned between gritted teeth - to keep the noise down - and came inside her. Alex slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the scream of a really big orgasm. It felt like someone had set a soda siphon off inside her and he just kept coming. They finally slid down the tree, still locked together and sat on the grass with Alex perched on his lap. She was panting and the big man kissed the back of her neck and shoulders. "Thank you, my dear that was lovely and quite unexpected." He chuckled and squeezed her tits with both hands; quite hard.
Alex stared down, in the moonlight, at the huge cock still buried deep in her vagina; she would certainly be 'gaped' after this for a few days. She shifted gently to make herself more comfortable and turned her head, whispering; "I take it you want to stay in me a bit longer." The big man grinned and kissed her shoulder. "I've just started my dear." was all he said, and he meant it. Alex groaned a little and suddenly felt the big cock moving inside of her; it was growing again!
"Now I will really fuck you my dear and believe me you won't walk straight for a few days after I've finished." He quietly murmured and started to thrust upwards again, and Alex gripped the grass with trembling hands, pulling little clumps out. Samson was true to his words, and they fucked for at least another twenty minutes, changing positions several times without his cock ever leaving her fanny. They ended up - again- against the damn tree and Alex had both hands over her mouth to silence her screams of pleasure and pain as she came twice really hard. Her cum running freely down her thighs and the big man groaned with some restraint as he came for the second time. Alex felt every drop spurt into her, and the pair collapsed against the tree, and nothing was said.
Alex walked slowly back to the caravan wrapped in her bed jacket; the big man had been right; she couldn't walk straight and had to walk with her legs open. Her vagina was still hanging open and dribbling cum. She had to pee again before quietly climbing over Jericho and collapsing in her bed. She lay breathing deeply under the blankets and realised the pair hadn't even kissed mouth to mouth - which she always enjoyed with the right man or woman - and drifted off in a deep, satisfying sleep.
4. THE BAIT IS TAKEN.
Cranfield Sommers lay sprawled across his deep sofa and sipped another glass of wine. He was stark naked and scratched his stomach a few times. He stared at the half-finished portrait on its stand by the huge window and was satisfied with its progress. Then he thought about the rumours and gossip concerning the young gypsy woman who had arrived on the common with her tribe. A Venus by any standard of beauty apparently. He grinned and took another sip of wine; probably has the manners of a Piccadilly trollop and ate with her fingers. All wild and loose with little morals; he finished the glass and knew already that he must paint her.
John – his valet - appeared with a vivid red dressing gown and slippers, whispering in his ear that Sir Reginald Palmer was here about the painting of his dogs. Cranfield sighed loudly and eased himself from the sofa and grabbed the dressing gown while John knelt and pushed on his slippers. He hated painting for people with no taste or appreciation of true art, but the stupid old gentleman was prepared to pay fifty guineas for a painting of his two spaniels.
Cranfield stood by the big mirror and checked his hair and teeth. “Absolutely lovely as usual.” He muttered to himself and swept through the door as John opened it. “Oh, Reggie how terribly wonderful to see you!” he exclaimed as John now opened the door to the study and the old man followed Cranfield in. John just sighed and returned to the studio and woke the young girl asleep on the chair; also, stark naked and picked up her clothes. “You won’t be needed until Thursday Nancy.” He pulled ten shillings from his trouser pocket and gave them to the sleepy girl who was pulling on her petticoats.
“Thanks John darling.” Was all she said and started to dress while yawning excessively. John sighed again and pulled the curtains, clearing up paint and palettes and stopped to stare at the unfinished ‘masterpiece’ on the stand. He shook his head; Cranfield had a enormous talent with paint, no would argue with that, it matched his ego perfectly.
Then he thought about the gypsy woman Sabina he had seen dance at the King’s Head on Saturday. John smiled; now that was a woman worth bleeding painting and no mistake. He cleaned up the studio and headed for the kitchens where Mrs. Pickle would be brewing tea for the servant’s afternoon break; there was fruit cake to accompany it. But first, experience made him wait a few minutes by the study door until he heard Cranfield shouting for him.
He let Sir Reginald out the big front door and watched Cranfield pushing a handful of white fivers into the old biscuit tin and placed it back in the bottom drawer of his desk.
“I’ll
start on the damn dog painting on Monday John. Are you good with dogs?” Cranfield
asked and John nodded.
“Marvellous. Splendid. You’re a most useful person John and I don’t know what I would do without you.” Cranfield jumped up and stared at the big clock on the mantelpiece; “Don’t I have another guest shortly?” he asked, and John nodded again; “Mister Crawly Sir at six o’clock and your carriage is ordered for seven.” Cranfield smiled; “Oh yes, look over the gypsy wench and see if you’re right about her. I do hope so, I want a Venus to grace my newest portrait and secure my position at the Academy. A position I have long been denied by jealous and petty rivals. My great talent WILL be acknowledged while I breathe, and I will be exhibited for all to see.” John just nodded a third time.
Cranfield swept from the room telling John to run his bath and lay out a decent travelling suit for visiting the gypsy encampment. John followed his master up the stairs and ran his bath; his most desired cup of tea would have to wait.
Jericho and Owen were brushing down the horses when Wilson appeared with a big smile; “He’s on his way up from the pub. I posted little Lash [one of the gypsy boys] to warn us and it cost me a penny. The boy’s just reported that Sommers is with another man called Thomas Crawly who’s stinking rich and the painter’s patron.” Jericho threw the curry brush to Owen and headed for the caravan he shared with Alex. Owen rubbed the two brushes together; “Did you check out this Thomas Crawly?”
Wilson nodded; ”There’s only one possible match for this time and place; a certain Sir Thomas Edwin Crawly, born in 1835 and heir to a textile baron. A big strapping handsome bugger – I checked his picture taken in 1874 – who likes beautiful women, good whisky and sport. I assume he’s along to check out Samson as well, boxing is a favourite of his. I expect he wants to decide who to bet on.”
Owen smiled; “I’ve never seen this Thatcher fellow but having seen Samson; I’d put my money on him.” Wilson chuckled and agreed with him. They had met “Samson Cooper” last night and both had been impressed – very impressed – as the big man sparred under the trees with other gypsy men. Wilson is a big man, but he was outmatched by Samson who was six foot four inches of muscle and anger. It was clear that none of the gypsy men would disrespect him and the only person he listened too [and could actually control him] was his beloved grandmother Queenie who was tiny and frail. She would kick him up the arse and shout, slapping the big man about to do as he’s told. And he did without question or argument.
“Can you imagine if some idiot disrespected the old lady?” Owen had whispered to Alex, who actually shuddered at the thought. “I don’t think they would find much of him after Samson had finished teaching him respect for his granny.”
Alex had replied softly, staring at the big man carrying a wagon wheel under his arm like a stick. Samson smiled at her; he had said nothing about their midnight encounter under the big tree. Alex smiled back; despite the gaping of her vagina and that she now had to walk slowly everywhere; she wanted the big man again.
The elaborate dark carriage rolled up the common road and stopped short of the gypsy encampment; the driver jumped down and opened the door. Cranfield and Sir Thomas stepped from the carriage sharing a hipflask of whisky between them.
Noah and Jericho met them halfway. You didn’t just march into a gypsy camp without invitation. Jericho invited the pair to his fire and asked Noah to join him with Samson. The men sat around the blazing fire and Sir Thomas was interested in Wilson and was really interested that Wilson could also box. But when Noah appeared with Samson [and his granny] he lost all interest and it showed.
Samson stood arms folded and said nothing. Queenie did all the talking which made Owen giggle a little and he went to fetch Alex after the look Jericho gave him. Sir Thomas gave Queenie a gold sovereign to show his respect, and that made Samson smile – a little – Sir Thomas had clearly dealt with gypsies before and knew their ways. Cranfield was also interested; he wanted to paint Samson as his original namesake; draped with young naked women of course. Then Alex and Freedom joined them.
Cranfield stood and slowly removed his large cigar and bowed a little. He just stared at Alex and said nothing. Sir Thomas was also very respectful and spoke to Jericho about his young wife. Over whisky they struck an agreement; Alex would pose for Mister Sommer’s for the unheard model’s fee of five guineas – in gold – and she would be accompanied by Freedom and their husbands.
Sir Thomas was more than happy with that. Finally, Cranfield managed to pull his eyes away from Alex and whispered to Sir Thomas; “Yes, she’ll do nicely my friend. Very nicely indeed.” He could already imagine the rapturous applause as the sheet was dropped from his masterpiece “The Queen of Fairyland” at the London Academy Exhibition of his work.
Cranfield and Sir Thomas left the encampment after an hour, well satisfied with the arrangements made and Sir Thomas confessed he would have easily paid twice that amount to obtain Alex for the portrait. Cranfield sat nodding; deep in thought about his new model. Then the real eating, singing and drinking started at the gypsy camp.
Owen danced – with her watchful father’s permission – with Florence; a very pretty dark-haired girl and they really got on. Wilson and two other men played their guitars to much appreciation by the families. The party broke up at midnight and everyone returned to their caravans. Jericho noted that Noah had posted a couple of young men to keep watch by the fire during the dark hours; accompanied by a couple of large dogs.
Owen peered through the curtains and asked Wilson about the men by the fire. “They have to keep watch; not everyone likes Gypsies and mobs have been known to form and burn them out. Drive them off common land which they have a right to stop on.” Wilson informed him and settled down for the night. Owen lay on the floor and thought about Florence before drifting off to sleep.
Jericho also lay on the floor consulting his mirror while Alex curled up in bed. “At least I know how to pose. I’ve done it before, but I hope he has some proper heating in his bloody studio.” She said to Jericho who just nodded. He knew Alex had modelled before. [See the episode; ‘Sir Edward Coleville’s French House’ Series 4 – Episode 3 of The Temporal Detectives Series.]
“Nothing bad is known about Sir Thomas Crawly at the moment and Sommer’s seems to be all ego, so maybe it’s someone that the pair know or have dealings with we should be after.” Jericho muttered and rubbed his chin, pushing his mirror under the pillow. He lay back and wondered about the next steps to take in the case. He drifted off to sleep and Alex was gone just after midnight.
5. A THREESOME DEEP IN THE TREES.
Alex met Samson - as arranged - under the big tree again. She was stark naked under her hooded cloak and had already lubricated herself in anticipation. She had a big surprise; Samson wasn't alone. He was fucking another young woman 'doggy-style' under the big tree. Alex drew closer and realised it was Freedom, Noah's young wife! The big man looked up and smiled as he thrusted hard and fast into the groaning girl. "Come on darling, join in." He grunted and slapped Freedom's bum a couple of times. She turned her head and managed a smile; "For God sake Sabina get over here, I'm out of my depth here with his big cock!"
They were both stark naked, so Alex dropped her cloak and joined in by kissing and caressing Freedom with some passion. That make Samson chuckle with delight, and he said softly; "So you two ladies like 'touching the velvet', well, I love watching it whilst fucking." He roughly pulled Alex into the same position as Freedom - kneeling on the grass - and pushed their bums together. He pulled his cock from Freedom and rammed it straight into Alex's open cunt with some force. She groaned and Freedom grabbed her head and kissed her with some passion as Samson now fucked Alex hard and fast. He alternated between the two moaning girls for some minutes before he emptied his load into Freedom. He pulled out his cock and took hold of Alex by the hair and guided her mouth to Freedom's trembling crotch.
"Clean that mess up darling." He ordered and Alex did as she was told, much to Freedom's surprise and delight. He knelt in front of Freedom and chuckled, pushing his cock into her mouth; "And you can clean this up too."
The big man sat against the tree and watched as the girls took turns with his cock, sucking, licking and caressing the swelling member. He told them to kiss each other between their skilful sucking of his big cock and loved it when their tongues came together over his now erect 'John-Thomas' as he called it. They shared his stiff penis for some minutes before he grunted and told Alex to squat over him, facing Freedom and he carefully inserted his cock into her anus with little consideration. Alex moaned and trembled; her legs shaking a little as he pushed his erection further into her back passage. He ordered Freedom - who was wide eyed at the scene unfolding before her - to "get to bloody work on Sabina's cunt". Freedom knelt down and inserted her fingers into Alex's dripping vagina and joined them with her mouth. Alex gripped the big man's knee's and groaned as he now thrusted upwards, watching his cock moving up and down in Alex's arse. He fucked her for some minutes before she had to call it a day and eased herself off him with some real relief; she hadn't 'tapped out' like that for some time.
He tried it with Freedom who simply refused after a couple of attempts; her anus couldn't take a cock like that. Samson just grunted with disappointment and pushed Alex onto her back and pulled her legs apart. He mounted her quickly and fucked her hard and fast. He dragged Freedom down and made the girls kiss and caress again. He slapped Freedom's arse and told her set about Sabina's big tits, which she did with some enthusiasm and Alex moaned as she had a couple of small orgasms under his brutal fucking and Freedom's wonderful touch of hands and mouth. Samson chuckled at Alex's climaxes and slapped her bum a couple of times; "So you like it rough do you darling." He gripped her around her hips and lifted her from the ground and she quickly grabbed his shoulders and held on tight as her pushed her against the tree and roughly rammed her down on his cock several times.
Alex slapped a hand over her mouth to cut off the screams as a big orgasm came over her and she struggled to squirt with her fanny full of Samson's big cock. It was so powerful that she almost collapsed in his arms, but she held on tight, her bum scrapping against the bark of the tree. Thankfully Samson now finished, emptying a full load into her and she felt every droplet of cum spraying about inside her. The pair slid down and lay panting on the grass with Alex wiping tears away.
Samson made Freedom clean up Alex's trembling and well gaped cunt, while Alex had to clean his cock with her tongue and mouth. He stood over the girls who crouched beneath him and smiled; "Thank you ladies. Until next time." He then walked off without another word leaving the pair to cuddle each other. Freedom kissed Alex's wet face and their tongues came together. They had gentle lesbian sex on the grass for about twenty minutes with Freedom actually having a couple of small orgasm's which seemed to satisfy her greatly. Alex ate her fanny out with some real skill and Freedom loved it. They lay in each other’s arms in the moonlight and Freedom finally whispered; "There won't be another next time the bloody brute." She turned and kissed Alex's big breasts with the nipples hard in the chill of the summer evening and smiled; "But I think we should get together again my love." Alex just nodded and kissed Freedom for a minute or so and then grabbed up her cloak. They kissed again and parted.
Alex was just about to slip back into the caravan when she noticed that the two boys’ assigned to watch the camp were both asleep in front of the blazing fire and there was no sign of their dogs. She reached the caravan and almost jumped out of her skin. Owen appeared from under it, wrapped in a blanket and looking sleepy; "Bloody Wilson is snoring like a road drill so I'm under here. How did the fuck with Samson go?" He whispered smiling. Alex shrugged her shoulders and didn't smile; "Alright, he's a big brutal man in all respects. You best get back in with Wilson and plug your ears or something. Remember they have dogs out during the night." That removed Owen's smile and he crept back to his caravan at some speed. Alex chuckled a little and slipped quietly into the caravan, then her bed. Jericho didn't even stir on the floor and Alex sighed - but smiled - Owen was right about their Inspector; he could sleep soundly on a pile of bricks!
6. ANOTHER MISSING GIRL.
Loud banging at Jericho’s caravan door woke him and Alex sat up in bed and grunted; ”For Christ sake it’s only just after dawn.”
Jericho threw his blanket and pillow onto the bed and Alex pushed them to one side. They had to keep the deception of ‘husband & wife’ up. Jericho – yawning – pulled open the door and found several men from the camp standing there; they didn’t look happy.
Noah didn’t mince his words; “We need to speak to your boy Owen. Young Florence has gone missing; her bed hasn’t been slept in. He was dancing with her last night, and we want to speak with him.” Jericho nodded and gestured towards the other caravan; “Certainly Noah. Owen will help all he can.” Alex had joined him at the door; wrapped in a sheet asking her ‘husband’ what was going on. Noah was already banging on the door and Wilson opened it.
Jericho joined the men by the door and shouted for Owen. He staggered to the door and sat on the steps yawning. Noah asked him about Florence and Owen jumped to his feet really concerned. He had said goodnight to her – and her father - at about midnight and him and Wilson had gone to bed.
Florence’s father nodded his agreement with that. Wilson yawned and added that Owen hadn’t left the caravan after they returned, not even for a piss. Noah and Florence’s father nodded and grabbed the two young men who had been standing watch; neither had seen or heard anything except the dogs had barked about two o’clock in the morning at the woods. There was nothing they could see there at the time. The group returned to the fire to discuss further, and the team all squeezed into Jericho’s caravan, where Alex had brewed tea and made some toast. She wondered if the departing Florence had seen them in the woods last night; then smiled to herself, the girl wouldn't betray her friend Freedom so she couldn't betray her [Alex] and Samson.
Owen sat on the unmade bed and consulted his mirror; “No breeches of the timeline for this time and place and her soul is still showing in the current human timeline.” He informed the others, accepting a big mug of tea from a concerned Alex. Jericho nodded; “So, she’s still alive around here somewhere. Noah and her father will head into town and report her missing to the local constabulary; they’ll have to do something about it, she’s just turned fourteen.” Now that revelation shocked Owen; “For Christ sake I thought she was nineteen or twenty!” he exclaimed. Alex handed him some toast and almost smiled; “They grow up quick around here, they have too.”
Wilson sipped his tea; “What about a body search? We could start at her caravan and follow what comes up. But we’ll have to be bloody discrete with the camp in uproar.” Jericho slowly ate his well buttered toast and finally nodded. “I don’t think it’s a co-incidence that Cranfield turns up on site and yet another girl goes missing.” No-one could disagree with that conclusion. He swallowed down some tea and added; “The sooner we get Alex to his studio and house, the better. Let’s wash up and get dressed; we can’t do much in our bloody night clothes.”
The impromptu breakfast meeting broke up with Wilson and Owen returning to their caravan. Jericho washed up outside by their small fire, while Alex had a wash inside and fixed her make-up. She really missed not having a proper bathroom or mirror, but most of all not having a decent bath or shower. She dressed appropriately and joined the others waiting outside. They all moaned at how long she had taken. She just ignored their comments and the little group headed into town with Owen discretely checking his mirror. They reached the crossroads when Owen called them around him. “The trail ends here I’m afraid. She reached the crossroads and must have gained a ride or something. Florence may have met someone with a horse or carriage. We need to find where they went to pick up a signal again.” Wilson sighed; “I wonder if we’ll pick it up again at Cranfield’s house.” Jericho gestured that they walk on; the morning was bright and sunny, and they passed through the small town drawing some looks of disapproval from the locals.
They were stopped at the bottom of the High Street by a strapping big Constable who easily matched Wilson in size. Alex really smiled; he could pass for a male model with his rugged good looks and physical presence. Constable [collar number 166D] Gerald ‘Jerry’ McFarlane was in his late twenties, and he smiled at the group, pushing back his helmet to reveal wavy raven black hair and eyes. Close up Alex realized that he was indeed a very handsome man. Owen whispered to her; “Jackie would agree with your thoughts.” That made Alex smile and she patted his arm. The constable spoke quietly; “I’m afraid there’s no trace in the town – so far – of young Miss Florence. Our Inspector Mister Letterman is interviewing your Noah Cooper and the girl’s father.”
Jericho
thanked him and asked if they were heading the right way for Cranfield Sommer’s
house. The constable smiled at Alex and nodded; “Don’t let him underpay you,
Miss; whatever he offers make him double it. If I could paint, I would pay you
what you wanted!” He smiled shyly and Alex murmured a little ‘thank you’ for
his compliment. Wilson just groaned; “There’s a lot of bleeding moths around here.”
The little group walked on and Alex was clearly in a better mood now!
They found Cranfield’s big house easily; there was a copperplate sign on his gate which declared “Sommer’s House – Beware of the genus.” Owen just sighed; “He has a bloody ego the size of Mount Everest.” Everyone chuckled at that, and they walked up the path and Jericho pulled the doorbell. John opened the door and didn’t smile. “We’re here to see Mister Sommer’s, we have come with his new model.” Jericho removed his hat and smiled. John stared at Alex and a smile crept across his face; “Follow me.” Was all he said.
They all stood in the big reception room and Owen had to giggle; there were three self-portraits adorning the walls – all of Cranfield of course – and the one hanging above the huge fireplace was the best; Cranfield as Jesus Christ blessing an adorning crowd of followers! Wilson just shook his head in mock despair and even the normally reserved Jericho had to chuckle. “I change that to an ego the size of North America.” Owen said quietly and checked his mirror. He grinned and held it up; “The signals back and strong. Florence is in the house somewhere!”
John opened the door and announced his master who swept in wearing a long white fur coat, black trousers and red waistcoat. Upon his head was a bright red Fez and he was smoking a long thin cigarette with a gold cigarette holder. But what caught everyone’s attention were the pink slippers with gold tassels. He welcomed everyone warmly, especially Alex. “I am a lucky man my friends to have the opportunity to paint two lovely wild gypsy women!” The team exchanged a glance amongst themselves, and Jericho asked; “Two sir?” Cranfield grinned and sucked on his cigarette with some delicacy; “Oh yes, I will pass between the two of them, separately at first and then paint them together. I think for Alexandra, I will paint her as Queen of the Fairies accompanied by her favourite and loyal servant; Apollo the donkey King.”
Wilson
folded his arms; “I take it you are also painting Miss Florence form the
camp?” Cranfield smiled, nodding; “Oh yes, a right little beauty I
have spent the morning sketching and painting her. I understand that she and
her boyfriend are heading for the bright lights of the big city to seek their
fortune.”
Owen grunted and said quietly to Alex; “Running off with her boyfriend at fourteen?” Alex smiled; “I told you; they grow up quickly around here. But I will have words with her, not they will do much good if her mind is really made up.” Owen just sighed. “I was younger than that when I was dragged off to that bloody monastery; at least she made the call for herself.” He didn’t sound happy about his past. Cranfield tugged the servant’s bell rope and John appeared again.
“Serve the good fellows some tea or something stronger if they wish whilst my lovely model prepares herself for painting in the Constable studio. Tell Reynolds to get his camera ready; I will need several photographs for the final stages.” John just nodded and gestured for Alex to follow him. “This way misses, I have aroused the fire to make you more comfortable.” Alex followed him out giving the boys a little smile. Cranfield was now staring at Owen, and he slapped his hands together; causing cigarette ash to fall on the carpet. “Now young man, have you done any nude modelling? I can see you naked sitting on a stool with spear and shield waiting to enter the arena!”
Owen just stared at him and mumbled something not very pleasant.
Cranfield grinned; “There will be ten pounds for your fee.” [That was serious money in these times]. Jericho and Wilson quietly chuckled and Cranfield swept from the room shouting for Reynolds and John.
Owen stood with his arms folded; “If he thinks I’m standing around naked with my wedding tackle hanging out for him to bloody paint, he can think again.” Wilson slapped him on the shoulder; “Go on baby brother, you will be immortalized in paint and canvas. Maybe loads of people will come and see you being exhibited at that posh London gallery.” Owen didn’t smile; “I won’t be exhibiting my privates any time soon.” Was all he said.
Jericho rubbed his chin; “Now, who is this Reynolds fellow?”
7. THE PAINTING - PART 1.
The studio was quite compact, and the blazing fire certainly helped; the girls stripped down as 'Reynolds' set up his camera. He was a big built man with little conversation except to tell the girls how he wanted them. John gave Alex some 'Fairy' wings and a garland of silk flowers to wear on her head. He then posed young Florence in front of scenery that's represented woodland and a river. Reynolds photographed her first while John sat with the naked Alex on the sofa. He was actually quite funny, and they pair chatted quietly, mainly about Cranfield. "Talk of the devil." muttered Alex as Cranfield swept in [he never just walked in any room] and stood before his big easel and mixed up his palette with some care. John was on hand to clean his brushes and arrange the scenery and props.
The donkey would not appear until the next session, so it was quite simple to set up.
Alex was called over in her 'costume' and Cranfield posed her for his painting. The first position was quite 'naughty' for the times and Cranfield [and John] loved it that Alex didn't mind laying back with her legs open and her fanny on full display. They were only interrupted when Reynolds had finished with Florence, and she left to get dressed. He then set up his camera and took several photographs of Alex and then he left too; he had a lot of developing to do so that Cranfield could have the photographs tomorrow. Cranfield was smiling and waving his brushes in the air and on the canvas, telling Alex to keep still as he worked on his masterpiece. John returned from the kitchens with some tea and they all sat on the sofa - Alex still quite naked between the two men - and drank their tea. This made Alex chuckle a little with its patent absurdity and John caught on and laughed too.
Cranfield lit yet another cigarette and sipped his tea. He grinned at Alex and gestured towards John; "Now my darling, you are clearly interested in this young man and him with you, so you should fuck each other. I will sit upon that stool and watch with great interest and much enjoyment." Alex stared at him and then realised he meant it!
John smiled at her, and Alex slowly nodded; he was quite a handsome man, and she was certainly sexually aroused by the situation. "Oh, why not!" she said quietly, and the two men smiled. But when he stripped off - quite slowly - her eyes went to one part of him, and she smiled; really smiled. The bloody donkey had nothing on John the servant! Cranfield retired to his stool and watched with real interest as John removed Alex's flowers and wings. She stood in front of him and caressed his growing cock with both hands. "Use your mouth darling, all men do love that." Cranfield called out; it was obvious that he wanted to 'direct' this little performance himself. Alex went down on John as they retired to the sofa; both naked and aroused. She sucked and fondled his big cock which surprised her with its weight when fully erect. For his part, John's hand was between her legs rubbing her already wet vagina. She was clearly up for a good fucking and that made him smile.
Cranfield drew on his cigarette watching and after a few minutes told Alex to mount John - facing away from him - so he could watch the action without hindrance. Alex did as 'directed' and that pleased Cranfield; "Good girl, now up and down with some vigour please; I want to see those wonderful big breasts bouncing." John gripped her hips as she rode him with some 'vigour' and her big tits really did bounce. She fucked John for some minutes before Cranfield decided in another change. "Now darling, kneel on the sofa, hands on the back and let John mount you from behind. Plenty of slaps please John on that exquisite backside while you fuck her hard and fast. Don’t hold anything back." As ordered, they changed position and Alex gripped the rear of the shaking sofa as the first little orgasms came under John's relentless pounding. John turned and shouted; "She's coming!" and Cranfield left the stool and Alex suddenly found his head next to her shaking legs; watching as her cum run down over John's cock and her thighs. Cranfield actually patted her head like she was an obedient dog.
"Now take this in your sweet mouth darling." He stood and pushed his modest erection into her mouth, and she sucked it hard - as directed - and Cranfield groaned and only lasted a few minutes before filling Alex's mouth with cum. "Swallow it down darling." He whispered with a hoarse voice. Cranfield was back on his stool and now wanted the pair to fuck on the rug in the missionary position which they did. John's stamina amazed Alex: he had been fucking her hard for almost half an hour and didn't show any signs of finishing yet.
Cranfield
was happy with their performance and praised them. Then told Alex to turn over
onto all fours - which she did - and he ordered John to fuck her in the arse.
John mounted her like a stallion mounts a mare and fucked her slowly; he was
quite a considerate lover. He had only been poking her gaped bum hole for about
ten minutes before Cranfield told him that he can cum now.
Which he did right on cue and that trigged another orgasm for Alex. The
pair lay on the floor panting and Cranfield gave a little round of applause. He
walked over and knelt, examining John's cock still buried in Alex's arse. He
fumbled in his pockets and produced a couple of gold sovereigns and pushed them
into a surprised Alex's hand. "Now that performance should receive a
little reward darling; Get me some damn whisky please John."
Alex groaned as John slowly pulled his big cock from her bum hole allowing his cum to run out. He jumped up and held out his hand which Alex accepted and pulled her up. He smiled and walked off to fetch Cranfield's whisky. Alex stood and watched as Cranfield returned to his easel and started to paint again." I won't need you until tomorrow darling, so off you go." He said without stopping and Alex walked slowly to the small dressing room, John's cum still leaking down her crotch and thighs. She gripped the two sovereigns and smiled a little - normally she would have thrown them in his face - but she didn't for the sake of the mission - and would give the coins to Freedom.
As she dressed, she could hear John talking with Cranfield about what was captured of the performance and intrigued, she pulled open the door and stared in amazement as Cranfield held up an 'Apple iPad' and both were watching it with some interest. it was clear that the whole 'performance' had been secretly filmed and it was also clear that Cranfield and/or John were time-travelers!
She
slowly and quietly closed the door as the realisation that her porn film could
find its way onto the modern internet; after all the girls had come from 2016
and porn was everywhere on the 'Net'. That didn't make her happy and she
wondered how many films had been shot with various girls and what had happened
to those movies? Alex finished dressing and joined the others who were heading
for the village and the pub. She couldn't reveal what she had discovered
because Jericho didn’t know about her little sexual adventures and if he did;
she wouldn’t on his team for much longer.
8. PHOTOGRAPHS DON’T LIE….DO THEY?
The
team sat in the Kings Head pub that evening and enjoyed a good meal and some
decent brandy, while Alex brought them up to date with what unfolded at
Cranfield’s house and studio. “I couldn’t believe it at first, but young Florence
just stripped naked in front of me, Cranfield, John the servant and Reynolds
the photographer without batting an eyelid. There’s more to that young lady
than meets the eye. She certainly doesn’t want to go home; she appears to
detest her father but wouldn’t say why. There’s something not quite right about
that ‘happy’ family all right. Her boyfriend is from another gypsy family who’s
camped near the old bridge outside of town. Apparently the two families are not
that friendly to each other, which is unusual for Gypsies. She and the young
man are headed for Rochester to start over together.”
Jericho asked about Reynolds and ordered another round of drinks. He tipped the young barmaid a couple of pennies which delighted her.
Alex sipped her most welcome brandy and sighed; “I couldn’t use my mirror on John Reynolds because I had nowhere to hide the bloody thing!”
She said nothing the pair being time-travellers; if she explained how she knew all her secrets would pop out and she didn't want that; under any circumstances. Jericho must never discover her secret life.
Owen placed his glass down; “Does Cranfield know she’s only fourteen? I mean, even in this time and place; it has to be wrong to paint a naked girl of that age?” Jericho just sighed; “It’s a different age and children started work at thirteen or fourteen in these times. The law won’t be too interested in some painter paying her to strip for his pictures.” Wilson sadly nodded his agreement with that. “What did you find out about John and Reynolds?” He asked finishing his Shepherd’s pie.
Alex shook her head; “Nothing really, he says little; he’s a big man with real skill behind the camera; I can see why Cranfield gets him to photograph his models before he starts the paintings. He can then finish the job without the model being present. He doesn’t have to keep paying for model sessions.”
Now Alex smiled; “He wants me to pose for some ‘naughty’ pictures at his studio. I’ve agreed because it means I can run my mirror over him and here’s the real laugh; he wants Owen to pose!”
Owen didn’t smile as he placed his brandy down; “Why is that funny? He obviously knows and see’s talent when he comes across it!” Wilson laughed outright; “You are absolutely right baby brother; real talent, staring him in the face.” Jericho just nodded; “Yes, but it means Owen can accompany Alex and that makes me happy.” That’s when Owen gestured towards the busy bar; “Isn’t that the big copper we met earlier?” Alex was immediately interested and nodded; “It certainly is I wonder what the local police know about Reynolds and the servant John?” Jericho gave a wry smile; “That’s a very good idea Alexandra, I’ll invite the young man over and we can find out. I’ll say we are concerned about you posing for him and is he trusted around women etc.”
Jericho rose and headed for the bar to order another round and came upon the big policeman with some pleasant surprise apparently. He invited the young man over and soon as ‘Jerry’ saw Alex sitting there; he agreed and accepted a pint from Jericho. He joined the little group and was a most pleasant and congenial young man. Jericho skilfully ‘interrogated’ him without the policeman even noticing it. The team found that the police knew about his ‘naughty’ picture taking and did nothing. It appears that Reynolds had friends and protectors in high places. He also only called himself ‘Reynolds’ – and never offered any other name.
The young constable hadn’t much to say about Cranfield except that everyone knew he was all ego and self-absorbed; but then he was a highly paid painter. But his friend Sir Thomas Edwin Crawly was a different matter. The constable lowered his voice and told Alex – quite bluntly – to watch out for him. Jerry looked about and spoke softly; Sir Thomas apparently really liked young women, whether they were willing or not! He had already had two serious allegations made against him which were both dropped. Jerry believed the girls and their families were paid off to drop the charges. “I wouldn’t trust him with a dead cat, never mind a pretty young girl or beautiful woman.” Jerry muttered – and meant it – finishing his free beer. He lightened the sombre mood by chuckling and pointing out that Sir Thomas had one good personality trait; he sometimes disappeared for weeks at a time. Apparently to his secluded house on the Kent coast, in some small village there; but Jerry said he often wondered what the dissolute bugger got up to there.
The team all exchanged a knowing glance; that was something few time-travellers could hide, disappearing for days and weeks at a time from their families and friends. The team would now look very carefully at Sir Thomas; very carefully.
Jerry was called away from the table by a couple of men; he was playing darts for the pub against a rival tavern; the ‘House of Cards’ from the neighbouring village. The team left the pub and headed back to the common. They found quite a surprise waiting for them.
The entire gypsy encampment was gone, including the team’s caravans and horses! There was just dead fires and rubbish left behind. They all stood and stared until Owen finally shouted; “Fucking thieving bastards!” No-one could disagree with him. Jericho sighed; “Let’s get back to the pub and book some rooms.” Wilson folded his arms and almost smiled; ”They [the gypsies] will be surprised when the caravans and horses are stolen back by Supplies. Old Joe won’t let his precious stores come up short.” Everyone chuckled a little at that and made their little at that and made their way back to the village.
Jericho walked hands in pockets and deep in thought, finally he said; “What really made them clear off? I mean they were about to make serious money from that bare knuckle fight, and they can only sell the caravans and horses to other gypsies, who won’t pay that much for them. So why did they scarper?”
“Maybe they found out about Florence and her boyfriend running off to Rochester and went after them; taking our bloody stuff as a sort of bonus.” Owen offered and kicked a can across the quiet road. Wilson nodded and wiped his face and neck; “Pity, I would have loved to see that Boxing match. I had ten shillings on Solomon.” Owen sighed; “Yeah and I had the same. What a bugger!” Alex patted his arm and just smiled, then stopped outside the small tobacconists and waved the others over. She jabbed a finger at the small notice board outside. “Take a look, the fight is still on.” They all gathered around and looked at the poster, complete with photographs of both boxer’s and the date was tomorrow night at eight o’clock and the venue was Sir Thomas Edwin Crawley’s stables. The fight’s purse was a staggering fifty pounds in gold sovereigns to the winner and fifteen for the loser. Owen tapped the poster and smiled; “Take a look at who’s credited with the photographs; Reynolds.”
Jericho rubbed his chin and smiled broadly; “Our gypsy friends will not let that sort of money go unclaimed. That’s where they will be for sure.” Wilson was staring hard at the boxer William Daniel Thatcher and pulled out his mirror. He scanned the picture and grunted with satisfaction and surprise. “I’m now not worried about my bet and yours Owen. Thatcher is really Jim Robinson who once fought the famous Mohamed Ali and has been missing since 1979. He was knocked down loads of times. No-one ever knew where he disappeared to and now, we know.”
Owen tapped his mirror; “Hold on big man, if he was born in 1925 and disappeared in 1979, he would have been 54 when he vanished and he’s certainly not that old in the photograph!” Wilson grunted again and stared at the photograph; “Do photographs lie?” he muttered, and Jericho tapped his arm; “No, I don’t think so, but photographers can. Do you think that this photograph was taken in Robinson’s youth and maybe borrowed?
Alex sighed; “Or Reynolds took the photograph at the time whilst he was in Miami in the 1960’s. Either way one of them is a time traveller because Robinson’s photograph cannot exist in this year of 1870 some 55 years before he was even born. So, it has to be one or the other travels in time.” Everyone nodded at that clever deduction. Owen pushed his mirror away; “Do you think that the photograph is current, and Robinson jumped back with Reynolds when he was young to now, then jumped again in 1979 to some place he really wanted to live and probably retire in?”
Jericho held up a hand; “All good theories and if we attend the fight, we’ll be able to find out for ourselves. Whatever the story is we pretty much now know that Reynolds could be the time-traveler. But is he actually involved in the abductions?”
Alex
nodded; “And we must find those girls and return them. Their souls are in
serious danger if anything happens to them whilst stuck here.” Jericho agreed
with that, and the team headed back to the pub looking for overnight accommodation.
They were to have yet another surprise waiting for them.
John – Cranfield’s man servant – was leaving the pub with a giggling young lady on his arm who was hanging onto every word the quiet man said. He stopped and raised his hat to Alex and smiled but said nothing. The girl asked John to introduce her to his ‘friends’ and giggled again. She was quite a beauty with a good figure, but young. John slapped his hat back on and managed another smile. “This is Miss Caroline…. She’s a model of Mister Sommers.”
Alex asked him if he had seen Reynolds the photographer and he shook his head; “Probably working at his studios. He sometimes takes portraits in the evening.” Alex thanked him and then asked where – exactly – Reynolds studio was. John jerked a thumb down the almost deserted street. “He has rooms behind the undertakers, but don’t ring the wrong bell or you’ll get a miserable old so and so trying to measure you up.” The girl laughed and gripped John’s arm, whispering into his ear. He grinned and said goodnight; the pair wandered off laughing and chatting.
Owen discretely pushed his mirror back into his pocket and sighed; “Now that’s a real turn up for the mission; John is from this time and place with nothing untoward known about him. He’s legitimated for here.” Wilson prodded him and asked; “So what’s the big surprise then?” Owen almost grinned and pushed his flat cap back; “The girl is Caroline Hatfield who is one of the missing girls from 2016!”
Everyone stood in silence for a second or two and Jericho folded his arms and said dourly; “Well, we can rule out abduction in her case then.” They headed for the undertakers in Green Street a little subdued by the revelation that Miss Caroline appeared more than happy back in 1870. Owen checked her profile and sighed. He informed the other’s that Caroline had left home at fifteen and was now nineteen and beyond the care of her parents – who she apparently hated – and social services. Soon as she turned eighteen, she started to appear in ‘men’s magazines’ as a nude and sex model. She had also performed in several ‘adult’ films before disappearing.
Jericho just grunted; “We’ll deal with that later. She’s heading back to 2016 whether she likes it or not. We are not about to lose her soul to the darkness.”
They arrived at the undertakers and Jericho rang the doorbell marked “Reynolds – The Photographer’. Owen thought it and so said it; “I wonder if the other two girls are just as happy to be here?” Wilson slapped his shoulder; “Well do profile checks and find out if they have sordid life stories too!” Owen didn’t get his mirror out because the door opened. The team had their third surprise of the night, and it wasn’t a pleasant one.
9. ANYONE CAN MAKE A MISTAKE!
Reynolds had his sleeves rolled up and both hands gripping his red braces. He grinned; “Good evening, Jericho and everyone of Team 74. I knew you would turn up all together and save me the trouble of picking you off one at a time.” He dropped his hands, and they were gone. Kessel the demon laughed so much that it almost brought a tear to his eyes. He turned and went back inside; still laughing.
The cage swung wildly with even the gentlest movement of the persons inside. Jericho – gripping the wire that covered the metal bars – managed to crawl slowly to the edge and peer down, then up. The metal and wire box were suspended about twenty feet above the stone floor and some five or six feet from the vaulted ceiling. It was affixed with two chains to that grim stone ceiling. He turned and nodded to Wilson;” Alex and Owen are in a similar cage some yards away. Bloody stark naked like we are.” He said quietly; any words seemed to echo around the chamber, which was cold, dark and smelling of damp.
Wilson sat back and ran a hand over his face; “How the fuck could we be as stupid and careless as to walk straight up to a demon’s lair?” he sounded quite angry; mainly with himself.
Jericho
took a deep breath and sat back against the wire without smiling; “Anyone can
make a mistake. Kessel is a clever bastard. Had he killed us straight away our
souls would have been registered as leaving and that meant Operations Control
would have dispatched a Knight to find out why an entire team has disappeared
from the timeline. So, keeping us alive – for the moment – allows him to continue
with whatever evil plan he has going. But Operations may send another team
immediately when they discover all four of us are away from our mirrors.”
Wilson nodded and jerked a thumb towards the wall opposite them; “What concerns me apart from being locked in a metal cage, suspended some twenty feet above the floor of an evil smelling dungeon is that.” Jericho stared at the beautifully carved balcony set in the stone wall. It had several ornate and comfortable chairs with the walls covered with vivid red curtains. At the rear was a large piano black door with gold handles.
Wilson
folded his arms; “I wonder what sort of shows are watched from there?” Jericho
nodded and then turned back to the other cage which was moving back and forth.
Alex and Owen were awake. He whispered at them to keep still as much as
possible and to keep their voices down; this place was like a sound chamber.
They only had to talk just above a whisper for the words to sound around the
place. They nodded and waved back. “I hope Owen – the little lucky shit – is
enjoying the view in his cage.” Wilson muttered with a glum smile.
Jericho pushed his hair back with both hands; “I think the acoustics are there to provide more enjoyment for the audience when the victims scream and plead.” He said without emotion.
“They won’t get that from me; the bastards.” Wilson stated and meant it.
That’s when they realised that Alex was whispering to them and waving towards the floor. Jericho and Wilson carefully and slowly turned and peered down. She was right; there was a pile of clothes on the floor in a corner – their clothes. “I wonder if our mirrors are down there.” Wilson said and sighed loudly. That echoed around the chamber like a steam whistle going off. He slammed a hand over his mouth and just shrugged his shoulders at the look Jericho gave him.
That’s when they heard the slight rumbling noise below them and they saw a little dim light spreading across a corner of the dungeon; a door was opening. They watched in horror and fascination as several large apes crept in, grunting and sniffing. They both realised that the creatures were not apes, but ape men half walking upright and half crawling like chimps. They were making noises amongst themselves, occasionally growling and snarling at each other until the largest one – with silver streaks down his back – banged a solitary fist against his chest and the rest fell silent. They sat quietly on the floor; sniffing at the air and occasionally grunting at each other, almost like they were talking amongst themselves.
“Now what the fuck is going on?” whispered Wilson as a trap door opened in the ceiling just yards from their cage. A small platform was being slowly lowered on four strong chains; it contained a goat who was bleating and shaking. They watched as the platform reached the floor and the ape men attacked. Wilson and Jericho heard Alex scream and then sob as the ape men tore the living goat to pieces with their hands and teeth. It was over in less than a minute.
They sat around the blood-stained floor enjoying their meal in a little circle; grunting at each other again. Finally, Jericho whispered; “I do hope that was their dinner and not just the appetizer.”
Wilson stared at him and ran a hand over his face. ” Sweet Jesus.” Was all he managed to reply and eased himself down on the cage floor.
“They were you humans at one stage of your development before his grandfather experimented on them and finally produced humans like yourselves.” The voice made Jericho and Wilson jump a little and they turned – carefully – to see Kessel sitting on the balcony edge, both hands gripping his braces; he was smiling broadly. He continued; “They are developing fast, already have modern human traits; they have leadership, they love to kill and eat, they lust as strongly as any modern man. They are part of you; a part you try and hide, but it’s there alright.”
Kessel eased himself from the balcony edge and stood smiling, then fumbled in his pocket and pulled out something. He held them out with one hand and allowed the garment to fall to the floor of the dungeon. Everyone heard Alex shout; “That’s my bloody knickers!” and they also heard Owen chuckling. His laughter stopped as they watched the silver back ape man grab them up and sniff them for some time before passing them around the other apes who squealed, jumping up and down in a mild, apparent sexual frenzy. The big ape screamed a couple of times and the others fell quiet.
“I do like to keep my boys happy. The last human female I gave them lasted two hours. They fucked her in some frenzy using every orifice they could find. Then when she was dead; they tore up the body and ate it. They don’t waste much.” Kessel laughed again and walked to the big door, half turning back; “They now have Alex’s scent and so they can wait in anticipation of some pleasure before they eat again.” He disappeared through the door; still laughing. The team sat in their cages in absolute silence until Alex managed to stand upright and grip the wire of the cage and whisper to Jericho. “Is it just me, but I think I know what the apes are saying!” she sounded quite shocked, but Jericho nodded; all temporal detectives had the ability to speak any human language there had ever been [the only exception was Welsh apparently!]. He asked her what she had in mind. She gestured to the silver back male and whispered; “He’s taken my bloody panties off the others and is keeping them for himself and he hasn’t taken his eyes off me since I stood up. Take a look; he’s horny as a boat full of sailors.”
Jericho and Wilson carefully peered down to see the big male – apart from the others – standing upright and watching every move Alex made. He was holding his big erection with one hand and her panties with the other! Jericho and Wilson stared at each other; a bloody horny, flesh-eating ape man really fancied their Alex! “That’s some big ugly nasty moth that Alex’s flame has attracted.” Wilson muttered quietly.
Then they both heard Alex grunting in ape with little different squeaks and squeals which were different from the males. The big male started to grunt loudly and jump about. He was answering her. Jericho gripped Wilson’s arm; “I can understand - I think – what he’s saying but not what Alex is saying. As a male I can understand him, but not her. So, our language abilities have their limitations.”
Wilson nodded; “From what I can make out; he’s getting excited by what Alex is saying, really excited and for the first time in my life I wished I spoke monkey.” He said and shook his head adding; "I wish I had my mirror to translate."
Jericho suddenly snapped his fingers which made Wilson jump a little; “Scent, bloody scent of a female will buy time if we’re dumped on the floor. I think that evil bastard will lower Alex’s and Owen’s cage first; so, we can watch what happens to them before it’s our turn. They will simply tear Owen apart as soon as they can unless they think he’s another Alex.”
Wilson nodded slowly; not quite sure what Jericho was on about.
Jericho whispered across to the other cage; “Alex, you need to pee on Owen as much as you can just before the cage is lowered. He needs to smell like you and that may buy some time!” Wilson sighed loudly; “The little pervert will love this.” That echoed around the chamber and Owen gave Wilson the two fingered salute and mumbled something to himself: quietly. Whatever he said made Alex chuckle.
She whispered back that she had been enticing the big male with talk about sex with him and him only. She was sure that he had taken the bait and all it would need is for Owen to get to a mirror amongst the clothes and get them the hell out of here. She admitted it wasn’t much of a plan, but what other choices did they have?
Jericho suddenly waved back at her; “Ask for a present! Ask him for a present. I understand that amongst the great apes, the males bring the females a little something; just like human males do.” Alex nodded and gave the thumbs up and started squeaking and grunting back at the male who seemed to listen with some interest [between sniffing and licking her panties!]. “I’m no eavesdropper but I’d love to know what Alex is saying to her new boyfriend.” Wilson grunted and watched carefully how the big ape was reacting.
That’s when the big doors behind the balcony flew open with a crash and James - a knight of God – sauntered in followed by Inspector Harry Hadden and the members of Team 52. James was still manifested in his armour, with splashes of blood about his chest and leg; his sword was slung over his shoulder. He raised the visor and grinned; “I had no idea that Team 74 were practicing nudists!”
Harry and his sergeant – Tom Slurburger – found the ornate wooden box on the wall that contained the controls for the cages and operated the down levers for both. The two cages descended to the floor and the ape-men swarmed over them: screaming and grunting. Then there was silence; James had stopped time. Harry turned the switches and both cage doors came open. Team 74 dashed – almost as one – to their pile of clothes and started to dress.
Alex’s friend Lisa Solomon shouted down from the balcony; “You best get your knickers from that big ape before he eats them!”
Alex
just stuck a finger up and shouted back; “No thanks. I’ll go commando until I
can get some clean ones!”
James had transformed back into his ordinary clothes and leaned on the balcony; “Soon as all your mirrors went offline; the Duty Time Controller informed the Knight’s Council and here I am. Harry and his mob came along because they say they owe you one.”
Wilson waved a hand and shouted; “Thanks!” “I take it Kessel is back with his master.” Jericho shouted up, pushing his mirror into his jacket pocket. James nodded and smiled; “It was close, but he’s still inexperienced so I had the upper hand.” [See episode; ‘Strangers Market’ – Series 3 – Episode 4 of The Temporal Detectives Series.]
Tom Slurburger jerked a thumb behind him, indicating the doors from the balcony. “They lead up into a photographers shop through a hidden door in a cupboard. There’s a stark-naked girl posing on a sofa with a stuffed dog! I think she could be one of the girls you’re looking for.” He shouted down to Jericho who muttered; “One to go then.”
10. THE PAINTING - PART 2.
“James will arrange for the mad ape-men to be transported back to their own time and Harry will escort that reluctant young lady back to 2016. Apparently, Kessel is quite the charmer in human form until he tires of the women and then he steals their soul. Alex and Owen will grab Miss Caroline Hatfield and return her to 2016 as well. So, we have just one girl to find. Who is she Owen?” Jericho was walking slowly and talking quietly, consulting his mirror, back towards the pub.
Owen tapped his mirror; “Its Ms Kylie McGovern aged nineteen and a student nurse.” Wilson pushed his own mirror away; “So it appears that Sommers and his servant John didn’t know about our little demon antic’s; especially if the girls were all here at their own free will.” Alex nodded; “The only thing that still concerns me is that Kessel said he had fed those bloody ape-men before; do you remember?” Everyone nodded; they certainly did remember those words. “Well, what if that poor woman was our third girl? Even if we check our mirrors, it will only show her as a missing soul because the mirrors cannot separate a soul that died out of its own time or one stolen by the Dark Side.”
Jericho agreed with that deduction; “Well, if Sommer’s painted her, then maybe he knows what happened to her.” They reached the pub and managed to secure a couple of rooms for the night. Alex and Jericho would share one [they were supposed to be man and wife] and Wilson and Owen would share the other. They certainly enjoyed the bar and the young man who played the accordion and sang old folk songs. Tomorrow they would visit Sommers and, in the evening, attend the boxing match.
Old Joe from Supplies wasn’t too happy about handing over another horse & buggy set to Owen. “I expect you to take better care of this one; Supplies aren’t made of bloody horses and carriages you know.” He said unsmiling and disappeared with his strange assistant who grinned a lot. Owen was convinced the little man was one of the Three Stooges!
The following morning the team made their way to Cranfield’s house, they had good reason to visit; he was finishing Alex’s painting, and everyone had to laugh at the sight of John – Cranfield’s servant – trying to coax a donkey into the studio! Owen jumped from the buggy and walked over; he soon had the truculent donkey inside with little pushing and shoving. Wilson grunted; “You can’t take it from him; he’s a master when it comes to donkeys and mules.” Alex, stepping down from the carriage added; “And horses don’t forget. Maybe he should have been a vet and not a monk.”
John thanked Owen and offered them all tea which was gracefully accepted. He went off to the kitchens to fetch the cups. That’s when Miss Caroline Hatfield strolled into the room and said ‘Good Morning’ to everyone. They just stared at her; she was stark naked apart from a pair of pink slippers. She sat on the sheet covered sofa and adjusted her hair and spoke to Alex; “Just through that door love. You can hang your clothes there and there’s some robes too – if you bother with them – I don’t see the point unless the bloody heating goes off.”
Jericho smiled at Alex and Owen; “Over to your good selves, I think. An opportunity missed is an opportunity wasted.” Alex sat next to Caroline and slowly pulled her mirror from her jacket’s pocket. “Do you fancy a little trip?” she asked the puzzled girl, and they were gone with Owen following. “I hope they arrive and somewhere in doors.” was all Wilson remarked.
Wilson and Jericho sat on the now empty sofa and waited for John and the anticipated tea. The doors swept open, and Cranfield appeared; he was dressed like a 19th century Russian peasant, complete with bare feet. “Ah my gypsy friends! The very people I was about to send for.” He walked to the large easel and pulled the sheet from it and smiled at Wilson; “Can you strip down my big friend. In private fights the Roman boxers were naked and that much pleased the ladies I believe.” Jericho and Wilson just stared at each other. Then Samson Cooper came through the doors; he was stark naked too!
Cranfield sighed a little; “I can’t find Mr. Thatcher anywhere; he was scheduled to pose this morning with Samson, and I would have immortalized the pair as Roman fighters, but now you are here my big black friend; you will do nicely and there is five whole gold sovereigns in it for you.” He gestured for Samson to stand before him in the classic pose that all boxers seemed to appear in. Jericho couldn’t restrain from laughing as he slapped Wilson on the back; “My word Cousin Wilson, five whole gold sovereigns just to take your clothes off; that’s easy money!”
The look Wilson gave him could have ignited ice cubes. He was about to decline the generous offer when Jericho shoved him towards the dressing room door and smiled broadly; “Don’t keep the master painter waiting, as he said you’ll be immortalized.” Then sat back, grinning.
As Wilson walked slowly – and reluctantly – to the dressing room, the door opened, and Alex stepped out dressed in a red bath robe with matching slippers. Owen was just behind carrying a ladies bag which contained her clothes. Cranfield smiled; “My word, I‘m so glad you gypsy families live up to your Bohemian reputations for all living together!” He clearly thought that Owen was in the dressing room when Alex stripped off. “I’m really impressed by your sexual freedoms and envy that.” He added; also smiling broadly. Alex and Owen both nodded at Jericho in reply to his unsaid question about Caroline.
Alex stared at Samson who really smiled at her. “Jesus, he’s a big man in all respects.” She whispered to Owen who nodded his agreement; mouth open in amazement and it should be said, a little in jealousy too. John appeared and handed tea all round and didn’t ask where Caroline was. He really smiled at Samson and gave him a huge mug. Both Alex and Owen noticed the look he gave Samson and were a little surprised. John clearly was either bisexual or…. they both shrugged their shoulders and sipped their tea; waiting for Wilson to appear.
Jericho appeared between Alex and Owen and whispered to Owen to use his mirror and conduct a ‘body search’ for McGovern to see if she’s around the house or grounds. Owen nodded and slipped away. Wilson appeared and stood next to Samson; that made John smile even more and Alex had to smile herself; both at John and the two big men who were big men in every respect!
Cranfield grabbed up his pencils and asked the pair to pose as Classic boxers would. “I will prepare a rough draft then this very afternoon my darling Alex; I will paint you and the magnificent donkey in fairyland!” he was scribbling away on the canvas with great sweeps of his hand and Jericho watched with real interest; whatever he thought about Cranfield Sommers; he was a real talented artist.
Owen was surprised and a little puzzled that there was no one else in the house apparently. No maids, no footmen, no kitchen staff. He checked his mirror and smiled; it had located the body of Ms Kylie McGovern and he followed the signal up the grand staircase and across the upper hall. It was strong, emanating from a bedroom at the very end of the corridor. But the mirror showed no living humans inside, so he quietly and slowly opened the door; the room was indeed empty. But the signal persisted, and he followed it to the fireplace. He actually peered up the chimney and found nothing. He re-checked his mirror for other humans and stood back; five of them! They were obviously on the other side of the fire place, but this was the final room in the top corridor and that didn’t make sense; unless…..He searched the ornate fireplace and mantle piece and found what he was looking for.
The switch was cleverly located beneath the top left-hand tile. He smiled; it was two buxom farm women bailing hay quite naked. “That figures.” He murmured to himself and called Jericho on his mirror. It took a good couple of minutes before Jericho answered, he had to find somewhere discrete to operate his mirror.
“I’m
on my way.” Was all Jericho replied. Owen tapped at his mirror and identified
the ‘bodies’ on the other side of the fireplace. He chuckled and shook his
head. Jericho joined him and they both read Owen’s mirror with interest. Ms
Kylie McGovern had company, Sir Thomas Edwin Crawly, Noah Cooper, wife Freedom Cooper and a certain Constance Margret Crawly.
“I somehow suspect they are not playing bridge.” Jericho muttered and stopped time whilst Owen pressed the switch and the fireplace slid to one side. The secret room was quite large and dominated by a huge – almost medieval – four poster bed. Everyone was naked on the bed; all entwined in various sexual positions and all smiling.
“Happy bunch of swingers.” Owen said and gestured to the young woman astride Noah. “That’s Miss Constance Crawly; she’s Sir Thomas’s younger sister would you believe.” Jericho just nodded and lowered his mirror; “Let’s untangle Ms Kylie from Sir Thomas and Freedom. We’ll drop her off in 2016 and the job’s done.” With great care they managed to free the girl from the other two and Jericho operated his mirror, and they were gone. Time restarted and the ‘swingers’ all were wondering about what happened to Kylie and assumed she had left – for whatever reason – through the open fireplace door. So, they carried on with their orgy.
11. THE PAINTING - PART 3.
John escorted Alex to her dressing room and she stripped off - slowly - as he watched and when she was naked she bent right over and fussed over putting her clothes tidy. John came up behind her and ran his hands over her bottom and sighed; "I would really love to have this again, if I may." He said quietly, stroking her bum cheeks with some reverence. Alex turned and pushed his hands away; she wasn't happy and came straight out with it. "He didn't have to give me the bloody two sovereigns for having sex with you. I had already been paid for the modelling. the sex was my choice, I'm not some paid whore." She stood hands on hips and John smiled; "Forget about that Sabina, that's how he is. I didn't give you any bloody money and I would not insult you like that. So, you can forgive me...please."
Alex relaxed a little; he was right, it wasn't his doing, and she couldn't mention the secret filming otherwise he would catch on that she's not from this time and that would lead to some awkward questions and blow the mission.Alex slowly smiled and allowed him to run his hands over her breasts and bum. He smiled and unbuttoned his flies, pulling out that big dick that she had enjoyed so much. She knelt and pushed it - still erecting - into her mouth and went to work. He didn't undress but stood and groaned a little at her expertise in cock sucking. Alex turned on the floor and pulled her cheeks apart; "I've already lubed my bum so I can enjoy that big cock of yours properly this time." John chucked, kneeling behind her, "What a woman!" He said and pushed his cock into that much desired brown hole and fucked her with some strength and determination. He gripped her shoulders and thrusted while she frantically rubbed her clitoris with her fingers - after spitting on them - and groaned with pleasure as the first little orgasm came quickly. John caressed her swinging breasts and kissed her neck and shoulders; bending right over her as he buried his cock deep in her back passage and she loved it.
They didn't notice the door open quietly and the figure slipped in and stood watching the couple fucking on the floor. John looked over his shoulder and smiled; "Hi Tom, I'm sorry but no photographs today, bloody Reynolds has gone missing, and no-one can find the bugger." He panted and leaned back, still poking Alex's gaping anus. She turned her head and saw the young man standing quite naked clutching a fair-sized erection with both hands. John patted her arse; "Tom was supposed to perform today for Reynolds but the bugger has disappeared without a word to anyone."
Alex seemed well surprised by that [she was certainly pretending obviously, but again; couldn't say how she knew he was gone] and John chuckled and whispered to her; "He's very good with women. Do you want to try him? He's fit and healthy, works on old man Chubb's farm." Alex groaned a little and nodded her head. John waved the young man over. "I'll turn her over and you can fuck her as you like while I'm staying firmly in her wonderful bum hole!"
And he did and young 'Tom' – smiling broadly - climbed aboard. He couldn't keep his hands or mouth off Alex's big heaving tits as he fucked her hard and fast. He wasn't as big as John but certainly knew how to use his cock to make a woman happy. Alex soon felt the big one come and groaned loudly as her stomach tightened and her legs shook. It exploded from her vagina with some force, splattering down her thighs and onto Tom's cock and legs. The young man chuckled; "That's the fastest I've ever made a tart come!"
And continued to fuck the quivering Alex with some force. They fucked for some minutes more before John emptied his load into Alex and - again - she felt every drop shooting up her back passage and she climaxed again. Tom carried on fucking her for another few minutes before he came too and the three lay on the floor panting and laughing.
John waved a hand at Tom and laughed; "Sabina, this is Tom the farm hand and Tom this is Sabina; a very nice lady who absolutely loves cock!" Both the men laughed and withdrew from a trembling Alex who lay on the floor; recovering from her big orgasm and allowing the cum to leak from her gaped arse and fanny. John sat up and patted Alex's belly; "I think you'll be quite swollen with a baby in a few months’ time my girl. Tom here has fathered at least four or five around these parts. All with married women of course, so no problems there. He was going to pose for Reynolds for some really kinky stuff." He turned to Tom who lay stretched out on the floor clutching his flaccid cock. "Did the bugger pay you already mate?"
Tom nodded and jerked his cock a couple of times; "Yeah, two gold sovereigns for the donkey job and today I was supposed to fuck some tart who the donkey was to fuck, also with my help."
Alex sat bolt upright and stared at the happy young man, finally she said; "What do you mean donkey job?" John answered her; "Tom is our animal expert. He fucked the donkey yesterday and I think it was a pig before that. The toff's in London pay a fortune for pictures like that and Reynolds always paid well, very well. That young tart Christine was going to perform with the donkey, but she hasn't turned up yet." Alex rose from the floor and headed for her clothes; all she could think of was Tom fucking the donkey then fucking her. It made her feel sick, but - again - she restrained from saying what she really thought and said she that she needed the toilet. John talking with Tom didn't notice that she had taken her clothes.
Alex would soak in the bath for a long time tonight.
12. SAMSON AND BILL.
The team assembled outside the stables and watched the stream of men and some women heading into the place. Jericho stood hands on hips and spoke quietly; “I believe that Sir Thomas Edwin Crawly is a time travelling friend and we need to find his time portal and end his travelling days.” He turned to Alex and smiled; “You can lure him to the hay loft above the where the fight will take place and Owen…. sorry Jackie can check him with her mirror and locate the portal if he has it on him.” Alex nodded; Owen had transformed into his ‘alter-ego’ Jacqueline so that he could accompany her; dirty Sir Edward would certainly not object to two beautiful young women in the same hay loft!
Wilson chuckled at the old pistol Jericho had stuffed down his trousers; it was part of his ‘enraged husband’ performance if needed. Should the girls need ‘rescue’ then he would burst in waving it about pretending to be shocked and enraged at finding his wife with another man. The damn thing wasn’t even loaded.
They could hear music coming from the stables and recognized it; it was the excellent accordion player from the pub. “They certainly make a night of it.” murmured Wilson as he watched Samson arrive with his grandmother and was surprised that none of the gypsy encampment had turned up. “I don’t bloody believe it; his old Gran is his second!” he added with some amazement. The strange pair disappeared into the stable and they could hear cheers and applause.
“Now where’s the other bleeding time traveller Mr. Jim Robinson aka Thatcher.” Jericho said, discretely checking his mirror as Alex and Jackie headed for the stable to ‘chat up’ Sir Edward.
“I don’t know who will be more disappointed me or the crowd if the bugger doesn’t turn up.” Wilson said and saw another carriage pull up. It was Cranfield and John; Wilson had to shake his head in mock despair; they were both dressed like a pair of Arabs with flowing robes and curved swords. “Do you think that John is more than a servant to Cranfield?” He asked Jericho who just smiled. “Each to their own.” Was all he replied as the pair swept into the stables and received a round of applause too!
“Heads up, this could be him.” Wilson tapped Jericho’s arm and gestured to the two black carriages that had arrived. Four big men in expensive suits appeared from one and stood about trying to look tough and alert. One of them pulled open the door on the other carriage and helped a beautiful young woman step down. She was dressed like she was about to attend a ball at Buckingham Palace. Then her ‘escort’ jumped from the carriage and Wilson sighed in disappointment; it wasn’t Robinson. He was over six feet tall and built like a brick outhouse [as Owen would say] and an African. He stopped momentarily and tipped his hat to Wilson with a big smile. Wilson raised his own hat in salute. Then the entourage also swept into the stables to great applause.
Jericho lowered his mirror and sighed; “He belongs in this time, born in 1848 in North Virginia, William Daniel Thatcher is a former slave who use to box for his plantation owner. He’s killed over six men in the ring before he turned ‘professional’ after being freed. He’s one mean son of a bitch and he’s resemblance to Jim Robinson is uncanny but not surprising; they are related. His departure date is shown as 1902; he’s killed in a fire at his boarding house in New Orleans. His soul will be collected and quarantined for over two hundred years for various murders. I can’t find any reference to this fight in his Human Records File which is strange.”
“Shall we watch the fight?” Wilson said and it wasn’t a request. Jericho smiled and slapped the big man on the shoulder; “Well, we have bugger all to do until Alex or Owen….sorry, Jackie calls.” They headed into the packed stables and found a spot by the east corner of the ring. Wilson had to smile; two men had set up a bar and were doing quite a trade in bottled beer and spirits. They were both dressed in short white aprons and wore bowler hats; like you would find in a good London public house. Wilson fetched a couple of bottles and took a swig. “Not bad stuff this pale ale or whatever it’s called. It would be better chilled of course, but you can’t have everything can you?”
Jericho just chuckled and took a swig of his bottle. They both had to smile when the referee stepped into the ring with the young lady that carried the black small chalk board which would have the rounds written on it. She was wearing a black corset that barely restrained her ample breasts; black silk French knickers and stockings with knee length, laced up boots. She kept her small black hat on. The referee announced the fight over the noise of the crowd through a metal megaphone and the two boxers had arrived; each with their entourage; William Thatcher was first in the ring wearing gold silk shorts and lace up boots. He really did look magnificent. He waved both fists in the air; they looked big even from a distance. His four men encouraged the audience to cheer; not that they needed any.
Wilson wondered where the pretty lady was; maybe she didn’t like to see the actual fight.
Then Samson appeared in black silk shorts and boots, his grandmother carrying the bucket, towels and sponge. The referee brought the two men together in the middle and held up a red hankie. He shouted through the megaphone; “There’s a purse of fifty gold sovereigns to the winner who will be the man still standing when the other cannot. The one on the floor will receive fifteen gold sovereigns for his troubles. May the best man win. Come out fighting when the red lady hits the ground. Each round will be five minutes and the bell will signal the start and end of each round. Good luck to you both!” He didn’t have to explain any other rules; there wasn’t any!
But he did whisper to the pair that if they disobeyed his rulings; he would have them locked up without bail for a few months and both men knew he could; he was the bloody local magistrate after all! He gestured to a weedy man on a stool by the north corner, who then rang an old school bell and yelled “ROUND ONE!”
The girl had chalked up a “ONE” on the board and was holding it up to the cheering crowd. The referee dropped the red hankie and ran for the corner, taking the girl with him. The two big men came together with some brutal determination; even Wilson had to wince at the sound of big fists crunching into faces and bodies. Bare knuckle boxing certainly wasn’t for the squeamish and some ‘matches’ could go thirty rounds!
That’s when Jericho’s sharp eyes noticed the group of latecomers filing into the stables and gathering at the back; it was Noah and several men from the gypsy encampment. They didn’t look happy at seeing him and Wilson looking back at them. Noah did raise his hat; unsmiling. Jericho returned the compliment but did smile; a little. “Now that’s a turn up for the books.” Wilson said and finished his bottle of beer.
“I told you the lure of all that money would bring them running.” Jericho said and checked his mirror; there was nothing from Alex or Jackie and Sir Thomas certainly wasn’t at the fight. That’s when Jericho realised that Cranfield and John were also missing from the audience. “Oh fuck!” was all he said and gripped Wilson’s arm, adding; “Come on! I think our girls could be in trouble.”
They pushed through the crowd and headed for the back stairs that climbed up to the hay loft. They burst through the door and found the hay loft empty. Wilson looked around in desperation and then found a pair of ladies boots under some hay. He searched further and found a skirt and blouse. He held it up; “Wasn’t Jackie wearing a gypsy blouse like this?” Jericho grimly nodded and checked his mirror for the two detectives and cussed loudly; “They are not shown with a body search but their mirrors are still on line and show them…..” He rubbed his chin and tapped his mirror. “The mirrors are showing the year 2016 and a house on the Kent coast. That bastard Sir Thomas has a remote house there in this time and place and the other girls were all taken from 2016. Let’s go!” He operated his mirror, and the pair was gone.
The pretty young lady sat on the hay box in the corner and swigged her gin bottle; Bill wouldn’t believe that she had seen two Arabs, one English gentleman and two gypsy girls disappear first, followed by another English gent and a very big and handsome black fella. Bloody strange place this England is, she thought and swigged her bottle again. Working as hooker in New York was strange sometimes, but it couldn’t hold a candle to this bloody place she mused and took yet another swig.
Yep, the old country was weird; no wonder people flocked to bloody America!
13. SIR THOMAS CRAWLY’S HOUSE OF DREAMS.
Jericho slowly lowered his mirror and smiled; “There are people in the house and moving about.” Wilson nodded and the pair walked up the path of the old house; there was smoke rising from a couple of the chimney stacks and the lower floor windows still had their shutters over them.
Jericho pulled the bell rope and could hear it ring inside. They waited for a minute or two and Alex pulled open the door – giggling – with a glass of champagne in her hand. “Come on in the party is great fun. Thomas knows how to throw a do!” she gestured for them to enter and John [Cranfield’s servant] appeared behind her; drinking from a pint glass. “Come on in boys and enjoy yourself!” He exclaimed and Wilson shrugged his shoulders; why not?
Jericho just smiled and they wandered into the house which stank of booze, tobacco and perfume. The music was loud and mostly from the 1960’s and 1970’s. He smiled at that, and Wilson certainly did. “The best decades for real bloody music ever produced.” He muttered.
The place was packed with people in costumes; a very good Frankenstein wandered past with his arms around Tinkerbelle who blew a kiss at Wilson and winked. Jericho pulled Alex over to a quiet corner and asked about Owen and the time portal. “She’s working the bar at the moment and guess what we found in a locked cupboard in Thomas’s study?” Jericho folded his arms and smiled again. Alex sipped her champagne and whispered in his ear; “A bloody Jerusalem mirror locked to 1870!” now that did make the Inspector of Temporal Detectives smile; he always knew that his ‘girls’ would come up trumps.
That’s when he noticed Freedom Cooper dancing with Sir Thomas in just her underwear. “Novel costume, what’s she come as?” He asked Alex who giggled again. “A good time girl apparently and she’s quite a card when Noah is not around, telling her what to do and when, despite apparently having an open marriage.” Wilson tapped his shoulder and gestured to Cranfield Sommers dancing with his ‘servant’ John. “I was right about that pair.” He muttered and accepted a bottle of beer from Jackie who had finished her turn behind the bar. Alex just smiled at that, she wanted to correct him about John; he was definitely bisexual!
“You’ve not heard the best bit yet Jericho, most of the guests here are bloody time travellers! Frankenstein is from 1982 and the gorilla dancing with the catholic schoolgirl is from 1790. You learn a lot about bloody people from behind a bar!” Jackie reported.
Alex stuck her smiling face between the two and said quietly. “Have you told him why they are having this bash?” Jackie grinned and spoke into Jericho’s ear; “They are celebrating being free of Mister Reynolds influence! Apparently that bloody demon had dragged these time travelling folk into his evil plans, and they weren’t happy about it. But James sorted him out and now they are free to get back to what they were doing.” Jericho rubbed his chin and really did smile and mutter; “So they think.”
A grinning monk grabbed Jackie by the hand and shouted; “Come on Jackie darling; you promised me a dance!” He dragged her off and Jericho spoke with Wilson; “There must be twenty people here and if just half is illicit time travelers, then this could be the biggest clean up and return in the Temporal Department for ages. That will do your promotion prospects no end of good my friend.” Wilson nodded; “Nice, but how do we get all these people to return to their own times AND remove their time portal devices at the same time?” Jericho sipped his champagne and said simply; “Well, I have a cunning plan.”
Alex poured herself a refill and asked causally; “And how do we do all that?” Jericho patted her face gently and grinned; “We have a good old-fashioned orgy, that’s how.” Wilson stared at him and chuckled; “Just for a minute there Jericho I thought you said we would have an orgy!” Jericho raised his champagne class and said quietly; “There are few places to hide time portal devices when your stark naked.” Now that did make Alex and Wilson laugh. “Come on let’s start this bloody party!” Alex said to Jackie and pair headed to the centre of the room, giggling.
Inspector
Harry Hadden [team 52] really couldn’t restrain from chuckling as he told his
team to grab a body and return it to its original time and place. “Confirm with
your mirrors before you jump.” He called out as Lisa Solomon took hold of a very
drunk young man who still had his gorilla mask on and nothing else.
Sergeant Tom Slurburger grabbed the half-naked penguin and checked his mirror; “1946 Chicago.” He smiled and was gone.
Jericho
and Alex were going through the clothes that had been piled up on the two sofas
in the big reception room and handing various objects to Wilson who carefully
placed them in a big canvas bag. Alex shook her head in disbelief, standing in
just her skimpy underwear; “I have to hand it to you Jericho, when you have a
cunning plan, it normally does turn out to be a cracker!”
Jericho held up a jewelled goblet and examined it with his mirror. “Unusual; a portable time portal locked to a specific place in 1794. Birmingham of all places. Who’s was the ‘Black & White’ Minstrel?” Alex smiled; “Oh that was the man with the Cowboy; the one who offered to show me his big prairie while desperately trying to get my panties down. Thankfully you stopped time before my knee found his over eager testicles!” Wilson shuddered at that thought because he knew Alex would have carried it out with no qualms whatsoever.
Jackie had gripped a half-naked Monk and read her mirror; “I don’t believe it! He’s a real monk from an Austrian monastery in 1810. The dirty old sod asked if I would like some bum love!” she sighed and operated her mirror, and the pair was gone.
Harry called
over to Jericho and gestured to Cranfield and John; “I’ll drop this pair off
together and on behalf of Team 52, I will accept your generous offer of dinner
tonight. If the wonderful Mrs. Harris could knock up a curry, we would really
appreciate that.” He smiled and was gone with the pair who only had the boots
of their Arab costumes left on.
Wilson peered into the bag and really did smile; “That’s five confirmed time portals and all we have left to do, is the Jerusalem Mirror in the cupboard. Now that’s what I call a round up.” He smiled as Suki [from Team 52] took hold of the cowboy who was only wearing his pistol belt and holster and vanished, laughing.
Jericho left Sir Thomas to last and took him back himself. Wilson and Alex checked the remaining party goers and satisfied they were all from this time and place; so, they left them where they were, and Wilson restarted time as the pair vanished. Back at the lighthouse Alex poured brandies and the pair enjoyed a well-earned drink. Alex still had the giggles remembering the happy faces on the party goers when she and Jackie stripped down to just their knickers [as told to do so by Jericho to kick the orgy off] shouting about having a REAL party!
They were quickly joined by Freedom who actually stripped stark naked and shouted; “All or nothing and I don’t mind three at a time!” Freedom certainly lived up to her name and was clearly sexually liberated long before it became popular! More of the girls started to strip and very quickly so did the men. Wilson had carefully collected the clothes that were flying in all directions and smiled to himself; Jericho certainly knew human nature and the time-travellers had indeed kept their precious portals close to hand. He had then stopped time and summoned Harry and Team 52 to assist in transporting the time-travellers back home.
The big dinner party at the lighthouse that night was quite a success and enjoyed by everyone from both teams; James put in an appearance and so did the team’s old friend; Guardian Oscar le Farge. As Wilson put it; “You can have some great fun with your clothes still on!” He was to change his mind about that!
Sir Thomas Edwin Crawly became quite a recluse after he lost his time-travel abilities and retired to that old house in Kent with just a few servants and several cats for company. He did become an avid collector of old manuscripts and books. In 1879 Sir Thomas vanished from the old house and was never seen again. He should have died in 1902 and he failed to meet that departure date. Inspector Harry Hadden and Team 52 have been assigned the case. There is no resolution yet.
Noah Cooper was a clever gypsy leader and much respected by his people. The gypsy families travelled around Britain and their descendants still do so today. But Noah’s good luck ran out in summer of 1879 when he left the encampment to do ‘some business’ and never returned. He had fallen foul of some evil men who he had ‘double crossed’ and they murdered him and buried his body in some woodland outside an Essex village. His family and friends never did discover what happened to him. His soul was collected and processed.
Florence ‘Freedom’ Cooper didn’t remain with the gypsies after her husband disappeared in 1879. She made her way to London and married a publican who ran a tavern in Whitechapel. The marriage didn’t end well; Freedom couldn’t give up her old habits and her husband found her in bed with two soldiers. That sort of finished their marriage and some weeks later he threw her out. She survived by prostitution and was found dead in her cheap rented room by her ‘work’ friends after being missed for some days – she had been brutally murdered and no-one was brought to justice for the dreadful crime – this was in July 1888. Just weeks later the notorious ‘Jack the Ripper’ would terrorize the East end for two months; disappearing as quickly as he appeared. Her soul was collected and processed.
Samson Cooper gave up fighting after his grandmother’s death and became a blacksmith on the Earl of Douglas’s Estate. He married a local girl and had three children. One of his descendants would become a very famous and much-loved boxer! Samson died in 1893 and his soul was collected and processed.
Victoria Mary Cooper [Queenie] died in 1875 and was deeply mourned by her grandson and the gypsy community. She had been married twice and had two children, but only Samson was still alive to mourn her passing. Her soul was collected and processed.
John Blunkett [Cranfield’s servant?] was certainly more than a servant to Sommer’s and they often shared a bed together. In 1873 the pair apparently fell out over some woman and John moved to London and worked as a footman in a great house. He became Butler to a leading aristocratic family in 1886 and remained in their service until his sudden death in 1901. His soul was collected and processed. He received no sanctions for his time travel escapades.
William Daniel Thatcher [Born in 1848 in North Virginia] was a former slave who use to box for his plantation owner. He’s killed over six men in the ring before he turned ‘professional’ after being freed. He died in 1902; William was killed in a fire at his boarding house in New Orleans. His soul was collected and quarantined for over two hundred years for various murders.
Sir William Drudge [magistrate and fight referee] was married three times during his long life, but never fathered any children. He was actually a decent and honest man who was good to the poor. A silver cup was presented by him to the local youth clubs for achievement in the ’noble art of boxing’ and was presented each year until 1961 when the cup was stolen and never recovered. Sir William died in 1939 on the eve of WW2. His soul was collected and processed.
Unity Rose Cooper [old lady with powers] died at the ripe old age of 99! She had been married four times and had nine children by her various husbands. She was deeply missed by her huge clan and no less than five of her granddaughters have ‘Unity’ in their name. Her soul was collected and processed. It appears that her powers as a ‘Passer’ have progressed down the generations and her great granddaughter Mary Unity Fellows has inherited her ‘gift’. What she warned Alex about: [the big dark man] is yet to occur. But she was right about Alex’s husband!
Florence Cooper [the younger] only stayed with her boyfriend for a couple of years and ended up as a dressmaker in Brighton. She met a merchant seaman and married in 1876, having five children. But the last infant’s birth went wrong and both mother and daughter died. Her soul was collected and processed.
Ms Caroline Hatfield was returned to 2016 and had no memory of the time travel incident. She became quite a famous ‘Porn actress’ and lived in San Francisco for many years; she married three times but had no children. She died in a bizarre accident in Montana whilst on holiday in 2039; she fell from the roof of her rented villa and broke her neck. What she was actually doing on the roof; stark naked and drunk remains a mystery. She never mentioned it to her collector and her soul was collected and processed, like the other two girls; she received no sanctions for her time travel escapades.
Constable [collar number 166D] Gerald ‘Jerry’ McFarlane remained in the police until 1881 when he caught a bad chill in January of that year; it progressed to pneumonia and Gerald died. He had never married but had a son by his long-term lover, who was already married. She passed his boy off as her husband’s and the pair never did discover the truth. She took the secret to her grave. His soul was collected and processed.
Reynolds the Photographer/Kessel the demon; was returned to his master by James and Demon Ingress reports his whereabouts – currently – as Paris in the year 1367. Team 63 has been assigned with another Knight – Isabella – to track him down.
Ms Kylie McGovern was returned to 2016 with her memory wiped by James; she took up her old life of shop lifting and part time prostitution. She never married but had two children by a pair of brothers she lived with. She died in 2043 from an overdose of drugs and alcohol. Her soul was collected and processed, and she received no sanctions for her time travel episode.
Ms Danielle Goldsmith was the third girl missing from 2016 and had a very lucky escape when discovered by Team 52 at Reynolds/Kessel’s Photographic studio. She would have probably ended up as dinner for the ape-men! She was returned home – reluctantly – and had her memory wiped by James of the time travel episode. She married twice and had three children. Danielle died in 2081 at a hospice in Nottingham. Her soul was collected and processed. She received no sanctions for her time traveling adventures.
"[1] Old Joe and his strange young assistant from Supplies ‘stole’ the caravans and horses back from the gypsies within days of the mission by Team 74 ending. The two families who had purchased the caravans from Noah and his cronies woke up in the grass one morning with their possessions scattered about them. Yes, you don’t mess with the Supplies Department!
[2] The bare-knuckle boxing match between Samson and William lasted twenty-three rounds before Samson finally managed to knock William down [for the seventh time] and he – wisely – stayed down. The fight had lasted 115 minutes!
[3] Why Reynolds/Demon Kessel used the boxer Jimmy Robinson’s picture on the Boxing posters remains a mystery; but Robinson did indeed disappear without trace in 1979!
[4] Apparently Alex's notorious sex tapes ARE floating around the internet porn sites of the early 21st century. What she didn't realise was that the dressing rooms had hidden camera's and Sir Thomas Edwin Crawly was a time-traveller and may have taken the tapes with him?
[5] Jericho’s ‘cunning plan’ produced a record equalling eleven illegal time-travellers returned and five portable time portals devices seized in one raid. Doc Underhill [whose record he equalled] was the first to congratulate Jericho!"
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