‘Well, perhaps you’ve just never had the right bloke to do it with.’

‘Joey said—’

‘Joey? That gormless fucker? Look. He’s history,’ said Benedict. ‘So let’s see, shall we? Where’s the bedroom?’

133

133

‘Oh God. Oh Jesus Christ,’ said Aysha, laughing and naked and breathless an hour later.

‘I never knew you were religious,’ said Benedict, lying back equally naked in Aysha’s big double bed, hands behind his head, looking very pleased with himself. He turned his head and smiled into her eyes. His lip was swollen and looked painful, but he didn’t seem to care. ‘Frigid, yeah?’

Aysha shook her head. She was still laughing, still fizzing with desire after the first ever climax of her life. ‘I didn’t realize.’

‘Realize what?’

‘He was always in too much of a hurry. And too fucking clumsy.’

‘And now, as I said, he’s history.’ Benedict propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her. ‘You’re a beauty, Aysha Flynn. I’ve always thought it.’

‘Yeah? Well, you’ve looked better.’ Aysha touched a gentle hand to his cut lip. All that time with Joey, she had thought the lack of chemistry was her fault. She smoothed a hand over Benedict’s chest. And Joey had never made her laugh in bed. He hadn’t even made her smile. But Benedict had made her laugh, made her scream in orgasm, made her feel full of joy. And since Dad’s death? She truly hadn’t ever thought she’d laugh again.

‘Since the first day you came into the office, I’ve wanted this,’ he said.

‘I thought you were a flash git,’ she said. ‘A real office-wallah.’

‘Charming.’

‘And Joey turned me off men.’

‘Guessed as much.’

Aysha’s face grew serious. ‘What do you think they’ll do to him?’

‘Honey, it’s best not to ask questions like that. You won’t like the answers.’

Aysha cuddled in against him. ‘This is so nice,’ she said, and her hand wandered down and smoothed over his cock.

‘I’ve created a monster here, haven’t I?’ Benedict laughed. ‘Give me a few minutes, for God’s sake.’

‘OK,’ she sighed and lightly slapped his chest. ‘Then I wanna see some action, buster – all right?’

Lesley Deveney got a call from Shauna Flynn. A day later, she was on a flight to the States, to see what she could find out about Claire Milo, the woman in the photos with Josh. Josh usually stayed at the Waldorf Astoria, but he had visited overnight at the brownstone apartment block on East 76th Street. So Lesley loitered outside there, looking at the list of residents on the entry phone system. W. Humbert, I. Patton, J. Cleeve, F. Barlow, C. Milo, P. Schuster.

C. Milo.

This time, she rang the bell for the caretaker and a smiling grey-haired black man came to the door wearing crisply pressed khaki coveralls.

‘Help you, ma’am?’ he asked.