Destroying Angel (16 page)

‘Hi,’ she greeted him enthusiastically. ‘Have you come to keep me company?’

‘Yeah,’ Robin answered, picking his way among the clutter.

‘Tea?’ Jilly asked. ‘The kettle’s just boiled.’

Robin accepted the tea and made himself comfortable in the low armchair behind the counter. Jilly, poised on a high stool which let her see the shop properly, was well above him. A customer came in and Robin took the opportunity to admire his friend’s body while she served. Jilly was of average height and slim, pretty with her face framed by long blonde hair currently decorated with pink streaks. Her ears were pierced, as was her nose, a touch that greatly appealed to Robin. She wore a dress of bright blue that suited her hair and ended well up her thighs. He found his eyes drawn to her legs, working up from bare feet to her thighs, slim but full and soft enough to be thoroughly female. As he watched she bent forward to indicate something to the customer. He stared entranced as her skirt came up to reveal the tuck of her bottom and a slice of white cotton patterned with blue flowers.

Robin felt his cock stiffen as he admired the soft curve of Jilly’s bottom. She turned unexpectedly, catching him looking. For a moment their eyes met, and then she smiled. He smiled back, blushing faintly.

‘Over there, sir. No, right by the end,’ Jilly addressed the customer again, only this time bending further over the counter so that Robin’s view up her skirt was even better. Her flowery panties were tight across her sweet, firm buttocks, and slightly caught between them. Checking to make sure he was genuinely invisible from the shop floor, he put a hand down his trousers and squeezed his already stiffening cock. Perhaps Jilly being alone in the shop wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

He stopped playing with himself while Jilly served the customer, returning her wink when she looked at him. The bell signalled the departure of the customer.

‘Do you like my bum?’ she asked, with the mixture of coy uncertainty and openness that had always attracted him.

‘It’s nice,’ he answered. ‘In fact, you’re really pretty all round.’

‘Thanks,’ she tittered. ‘Do you want to do it in front of me again?’

‘Here?’

‘Yeah, come on. Nobody can see you down there, and the bell will warn you if anyone comes in.’

‘You like to watch me, don’t you?’

‘Yes I do. You’ve got a lovely cock, Robin, and I think it’s really nice the way you do it in front of me. I really like to see the pleasure on your face. Come on, just for me.’

‘Would you go further?’ he asked tentatively.

Jilly paused, settling herself back on the high stool. Robin waited for her answer. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It’s really the way you don’t mind showing me how excited you are that I like. Anyway, we can’t really in here, can we?’

‘S’pose not,’ he admitted glumly.

‘Do it for me, please?’ Jilly pouted.

Robin looked up into her eyes and slid forward on the chair, letting his legs loll apart. Her eyes travelled slowly lower as he put his hand to his zip and drew it down. The idea of masturbating in front of her excited him; her uninhibited delight in watching boosted his ego. This time he was sure he could get more, if only he had the patience to let her get really turned on instead of coming before she was ready.

Her eyes were fixed on his crotch as he pulled his cock out. Watching her expression, he began to stroke it. He did it slowly, alert for the sound of the bell, but becoming more excited as his cock stiffened in front of her. Patience was everything, patience and getting her to pay attention to her own body.

‘At least let me see your knickers,’ he prompted.

Jilly giggled and swung her legs around, parting them just a little so that her panties showed. The material was tight over the bulge of her pussy. Robin felt his cock harden in his fist. Jilly giggled again as it swelled to full erection. He pulled his T-shirt up, opened his jeans, and started to masturbate properly.

‘Show me your pussy,’ he begged, indicating the front of her panties with his eyes.

‘Robin!’

‘Please, Jilly. I’m doing it for you.’

‘Well… okay,’ she conceded, a little flustered.

He watched as Jilly licked her lips, glanced guiltily at the door, and then parted her legs a little further. He began to pull harder at his erection as she slipped her fingers into her panty gusset and pulled it aside, revealing the moist pink flesh of her pussy in a nest of tawny hair. Her vagina looked wet and ready.

‘I’m going to come, soon,’ he breathed. ‘Put a finger in.’

She looked at the door again, and then slipped a finger into the moist crevice. He watched it slip in, his breathing becoming quicker and deeper. His cock felt as if it would burst at any moment, yet he held himself back, determined not to come and spoil his chances. She was obviously getting horny, sliding the finger in and out and dabbing at her clit. Her panties were stretched to one side, showing everything as she masturbated for him.

‘You’re beautiful, Jilly,’ he gasped, his eyes riveted to her pussy. ‘I wish you were naked. Would you strip for me?’

‘Of course,’ she blurted, her voice husky with passion. ‘Oh, Robin, of course I’d strip for you. You’re really sweet, and your cock’s so lovely. Spurt in front of me, Robin. Spurt for me.’

‘Lock the door,’ he groaned. ‘Let’s fuck,’

For a moment she hesitated, and he thought he’d blown it. Then she jumped down from the stool and hurried to the door, quickly shooting the bolts and flipping the sign to ‘Closed’. She rushed back behind the counter, sank to her knees, and grabbed his cock. Robin nearly came as her fingers curled around it and started to pull with a frantic urgency.

‘I – I want to fuck you, Jilly,’ he protested, putting his hands over hers to slow the pace with which she was wanking him.

‘Oh, God, okay,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll sit in your lap.’

She rose and turned, and pulled up her dress again to show him her panties. Robin sighed and reached forward, feeling the softness of her bottom. He gripped her panties and pulled them aside. She lowered herself, a little clumsily, onto his lap. He aimed his erection, and watched the tip ease into her pussy and the shaft slip inside her. She sighed as though sliding down into a hot bath. He grasped her hips and began to bounce her on his lap. She gripped the arms of the chair for balance. Determined not to spoil the moment by coming too quickly, he slowed his pace. Jilly put a hand to her pussy and started to masturbate once more.

She flopped back against his chest, and gasped, ‘I want to come.’

Robin reached round and squashed her breasts in each hand, finding her nipples already stiff under his fingers. Her hands were between their legs, stroking his balls and the juncture of his cock and her pussy. All he could do was give little shoves with his hips and feel her tits. Her back arched and she twisted, trying to kiss him. Their lips met awkwardly. He felt her pussy contract around his cock, heard the sigh of pleasure deep in her throat, and smiled to himself triumphantly as he realised she was coming.

He was on the verge of an orgasm himself.

‘Not in me,’ she panted, sensing his imminent crisis and fearing the spectre of an unwanted pregnancy.

Equally as fearful, Robin pushed her forward and his cock bobbed out just as his semen splattered against her bottom and thighs.

She slumped back down against his heaving chest and their lips mashed together in another artless kiss. Robin hugged her close as a fierce elation welled up inside. They remained like that, gently rocking, until the doorbell rang insistently. Jilly ducked down to adjust her dress and retrieve her panties. Robin peered over the counter and saw an elderly lady shoving at the door and glancing at her watch.

‘Customer, Jilly,’ he said unnecessarily.

‘Coming,’ she called loudly as she smoothed her dress down, before lowering her voice to whine at Robin, ‘Yuck, I’m all sticky.’

Robin got to his feet, unable to stop himself from grinning as Jilly fumbled with the bolts to let the woman in. He was sure the old bag would know what they’d been up to, and his chest swelled with pride. He smiled at her like an imbecile, and received a suspicious look in return.

He went into the back room, leaving an embarrassed Jilly to serve the woman. He was singing as he made tea, utterly happy and well pleased with himself. Possibly Jilly would now want to go out with him, or at least have regular sex. It was a shame she was going out with Taz.

The thought of Taz brought him down to earth. For one thing they were friends, even if he did resent playing second fiddle all the time. Everyone looked up to Taz, Jilly included. So did he, but he had always wanted Jilly, and now wanted her even more. Maybe if he told her about the Fire Ghost she would think him cooler than Taz.

The bell chimed and Jilly came into the back room, giggling and holding her hand over her mouth.

‘Did she notice?’ Robin asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ she twittered, ‘maybe.’

They chatted as they drank tea, Jilly bright-eyed and smiling, Robin eager to impress. She reacted to his revelation that he had met the real Fire Ghost with what he interpreted as awe. Basking in the warm glow of her worship, he told her everything that Fire Ghost had told him, including the details of the planned fire in Merton and that he had been invited to go along and tag the site.

Ted Gage stopped outside the door and double-checked the number. Set in a neatly cultivated garden, the block of apartments spoke of an affluence well beyond the reach of his pay. He smiled, a faintly malicious grin born from the pleasure of the prospective arrest of someone who had obviously done well for himself. Following the lead suggested by MacQuillan, Potheroe and Berner, he had dug into the affairs of the three companies that had been the latest victims of the Fire Ghost attacks.

Both Mohammed Khan’s World of Pine and Annabella de Vergy’s wine warehouse had been showing healthy profits. Crazy’s Joe’s Carpet Madhouse had been heavily in debt, having become badly over-extended when they expanded from a smaller premise. The insurance, however, had been fully paid up, leaving the proprietor, Joe Cooper, with enough ready cash to escape bankruptcy and reorganise his business on a smaller scale.

It was a clear, understandable motive, far more appealing to him than Susan MacQuillan’s complex speculations. Julia Keeson agreed with him as well. Cooper also had a record. He had been clean in recent years, but had a long list of minor chicanery going back to when he was a teenager. Gage had decided on a blunt aggressive approach, accusing Cooper of the arsons, hinting at the existence of damning evidence, and hoping for a clean confession. It might not work, but it was worth a try, and the technique suited Gage’s style.

His radio buzzed to life: it was Paul Berner, telling him he had the fire-escape covered. Gage rang Cooper’s bell, and waited only a moment before the intercom chimed.

‘Who is it?’ a crackling voice enquired.

‘This is Detective Inspector Gage, Mr Cooper. There are one or two points I need to clear up.’

‘All right, come up,’ Cooper replied, the door lock clicking even as Ted Gage put his hand to it.

He strode into the lobby. A brass plaque displayed the flat numbers and inset cards showed their current occupants. Gage found which floor Cooper’s flat was on and punched the call button for the lift. Berner arrived shortly after the lift, having satisfied himself that Cooper had no intention of immediately making a run for it.

Cooper let them in and offered coffee. Gage accepted as he studied Cooper for signs of nervousness. Nothing was immediately obvious, Cooper showing no more than a normal level of reluctance to welcome policemen into his home. Paul Berner declined the coffee and chose to study the details of the flat rather than the suspect.

‘What can I do for you?’ Cooper asked as he handed Gage a mug of instant.

‘It concerns the fire at your warehouse,’ Gage began.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve caught the Fire Ghost?’

‘Unfortunately not, Mr Cooper. In fact, we have good evidence that the attack on your warehouse was not a genuine Fire Ghost attack, but an imitation designed to appear like one.’

‘Oh, yes?’ Cooper sipped his coffee.

Gage paused. Was there a hint of sarcasm in Cooper’s voice? His attitude seemed cocky, amused even. Possibly it showed innocence, and then again it might be the reaction of a confident villain. Gage smiled inwardly. He had known a lot of cock-sure villains, and not a few of them were still locked up.

‘Yes,’ he said, deciding to cut straight to the point and hope to bluff Cooper, ‘and a great deal of that evidence points directly to you, Mr Cooper.’

‘You’re joking!’ Cooper gasped, his mouth gaping in a disbelief that Gage felt was somewhat overdone. ‘What, you reckon I did it myself? But I was down the Bell that night. Anyone’ll tell you.’

‘Not you personally, Mr Cooper,’ Gage continued, ‘but the evidence points to your being involved. Now are you going to tell us the truth or are we going to have to do it the hard way?’

‘Hang on a minute,’ Cooper protested. ‘Why would I want to burn my own warehouse down? I only opened it a couple of months ago!’

‘Because you were about to go bankrupt, Mr Cooper,’ Gage answered flatly.