Slamming her down on the mattress, he imediately began slapping her across the face: forehand, backhand, forehand, backhand, repeatedly."WHAT ARE YOU?... he demanded."WhWha---" SLUT!" he yelled, and then proceeded to rip every stitch of clothing off her unwilling body."P-P-Percy," she sobbed, "why are you d-doing this to me?" You think I didn't SEE YOU whore? You were on your back with your legs spread while that lawyer fucked you on his desk!"She gasped, recognizing that her husband knew about. "My last point is that my first and second point lead to the conclusion that this was a murder by a professional assassin made to look like suicide and that some mysterious third party stepped in to draw our attention to the hard cold facts of a well-planned homicide."Chief Inspector Tower sloshed down the remainder of his drink and cleared his throat. Martha sat silently perched on the edge of the sofa with her dinner dress covering her knees but showing enough of her under thigh to cast her. More

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