Fanchon will not be pleased."?Cyrus Thibodeau screamed until Hans let go of his nipple, and then he stood back,and Hans entered the house. Yes, it was...disgusting. Cigarette butts everywhere, abandoned pizza delivery boxes, beer cans...Yankee disorder.?"Look,no, you--ow, that hurt. Shit! I--" SMACK! Han's hand crashed across Cyrus's face.?"I do not allow profanity. Where are my canes?" The crew cut spun around, surveying the repulsive pig sty that was this rich American's house."Fanchon told you. Wrong place; wrong time is all,” Polly explained.“Bullshit Polly! You tell me that Matron runs every single facet of the business. She knew I was attending to Dr Mortlock tonight and she must have warned her police contacts accordingly,” Michele protested.“It’s not foolproof Michele; maybe Inspector Burgess wasn’t advised you were servicing Stephen Mortlock tonight?” Polly hypothesised.“Nah it’s too much of a coincidence; and why would my driver fuck off like that?”“Maybe he thought he was. More

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