With his head again between her thighs, his tongue circled her vaginal lips. Then he began to kiss her.

Her body started, and she sat up halfway. 'Hey, Doctor, I didn't know you did that.'

'I never do. But you're something special. I can't resist. Do you object?'

'Not especially, except Minna told me not to have anything to do with any man while I'm outside the Club.'

'Didn't she say you could see me?' he asked, looking up at her.

'Yes, of course.'

'Didn't she say I could treat you?'

'Yes, but-'

'I am treating you, Greta. Lie back and cooperate.'

Greta exhaled. She lay back and gave up all resistance. 'Whatever… whatever you say, Doctor.'

'I say let's enjoy ourselves.'

He bent down once more, easing his head between her thighs, until he could kiss her labia again, and then extended his tongue and inserted it inside her vagina.

She was moist, and her buttocks were rotating.

After a few minutes, he thought she'd had an orgasm, but he wasn't sure and he didn't care.

He pulled back slightly, clambered to his feet, and stood between her legs, unbuttoning his trousers.

'Sit up, Greta,' he commanded. 'Come here.'

He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her head down to his distended penis. 'It's fellatio time, darling.'

'It's what?'

'Time to do unto others as you would have done to you. It's time to suck, Greta.'

Her mouth closed over him and her tongue and lips slid expertly over his penis. He trembled with frenzy. She was good, very good, very, very good. Staring down at the top of her head, the exposed back of her neck, he realized how many men she must have done this to, and he was excited by one thing – a desire to sever her head from her body, to dismember her, so that she could do this to no one ever again.

He felt he was coming apart, and then he did, erupting and groaning and groaning.

Later, he patted her cheek. 'You were magnificent, Greta, better than any woman I have ever known.'

'Really? Well, you weren't half bad yourself.'

Holmes dropped the speculum in his bag. 'Then maybe we belong together.'

'What are you saying?'

'I'm saying we seem suited to each other. Why don't you pack your things and move out of here? Move in with me.'

Greta hesitated. 'I'd love to, but what will Minna and Aida say?'

'They'll never know. Move in with me tomorrow. We can live together, and if it works out as I think it will, we can get married. No more of that Everleigh drudgery for you. Will you?'

'Will I!' Greta exclaimed, falling upon Holmes with a hug, and kissing him again and again. 'I'll be there.'

Holmes was scribbling on a piece of paper. 'Here's my address. Any time from noon on tomorrow.'

'I'll be there. I'm so happy.'

'You won't regret it, darling. I'll have a real treat in store for you. I guarantee you one thing. You'll find peace for the first time in your life.'

It was not until just before noon that Minna Everleigh learned that yet another of her favourite girls had disappeared.

The word of this had come from Edmund, who had routinely checked the scattered whereabouts of the Everleigh girls and reported to Minna on what he could learn of their security and behaviour.

This morning he had reported that Greta was missing from the Tremont House Hotel. Edmund had learned that less than an hour before his phone inquiry, Greta had checked out of her room with her suitcases, leaving no forwarding address.

News of this defection had thoroughly mystified Minna and shaken her.

What disturbed Minna most was the constancy of the disappearances. First Fanny. Then Avis. Now Greta. There were two factors that troubled Minna. The first was the number of disappearances within so short a time. Minna had been ac-

customed to losing one girl a year, two at the most. But three leaving without a word in two weeks – it was unheard of. The second factor that concerned Minna was the manner of each disappearance. Until these, when a girl had wanted to leave the Everleigh Club, she usually had been honest with Minna in giving her reason and her destination. A man had proposed marriage to her and she wanted to settle down. She missed her home and family in Denver and wanted to return. Or, simply, she was bored with being enclosed in the Everleigh Club and devoting her life to lying on her back and pretending to enjoy herself. In the past, the departure of each girl, though few and far between, had always been courteous and forthright.

Now Fanny, Avis, and Greta had vanished into thin air, without any explanation.

Minna brooded over the matter for long minutes, and finally she telephoned the young reporter, Chet Foley, at the Chicago Tribune.

'Chet, this is Minna Everleigh at the Club.'

'I'm glad you called. I was planning to come by one day to have a drink with you.'

Minna put on her most gracious tone. 'You're always welcome, except this week and next. We're renovating the place. I'm really calling to ask you a question. If someone close to you disappeared, and you wanted to find them, what would you do?'

Foley answered immediately. 'I'd hire a private detective agency to trace them.'

'That makes sense,' Minna said. 'A detective agency. Why not? What would you say is the biggest one in Chicago?'

'The Pinkerton National Detective Agency, by far.'

'Do you know anything about them, Chet?'

'Not personally. We must have something on file here at the paper.'

'All right,' Minna said, 'I've just changed my mind about your dropping by. You may drop by if you bring me something on the Pinkerton Agency. Can you?'

'Certainly. Do you want to see me soon?'

'Right away. Soon as you have the information, come right over with it.'

Half an hour later, Foley was seated with Minna in her office.

He handed her a folder. 'All we have on the Pinkertons. Some clippings from the Tribune. One from the Observer. An official brochure from their firm. The clippings are repetitious. The brochure should tell you most of what you want to know.'

Minna sat in silence as she thumbed through the material.

The brochure was indeed impressive. It was headed, PINKERTON'S NATIONAL DETECTIVE AGENCY. It had a staring eye as its trademark, and the motto 'We Never Sleep'. The superintendent of the Chicago office was William A. Pinkerton.

Studying the Observer story, Minna saw that it had only praise for William Pinkerton. 'He is America's leading detective, the man through whose medium you may know the exact wealth of Li Hung Chang, how much your clerk bet on the election, or what African jungle hides the clerk who ruined the Bank of Timbuktu. His methods, though effective, are painfully matter-of-fact.'

Minna looked up from the file. 'Their business seems mostly railroads,' she said.

'Their business is crime,' Foley assured her, 'any kind.'

'I suppose you're right,' said Minna, handing back the file. 'I should retain them to look into several disappearances of my girls. If someone's trying to ruin us, I better find out about it. Look, Chet, just hold on while I phone Pinkerton for an appointment. Then we'll have a glass of champagne together.'

After speaking to William Pinkerton and securing an immediate appointment, Minna had Edmund drive her down-

town to Pinkerton's National Agency, at 193 Fifth Avenue in Chicago 's downtown.

Once inside the building, she was escorted to William Pinkerton's cluttered office. He was a great bear of a man, with his hair slicked down flat and a full moustache. He directed Minna to a leather chair beside the desk.

'I'm Minna Everleigh,' she began. 'I don't know if you've heard of me.'

Pinkerton gave a short laugh. 'Who hasn't?' he replied.

'I've run into something that's disturbing me. I think I can use some of your detectives.'