The Seduction (standard:mystery, 3623 words)
Author: Hulsey	Added: Jul 14 2003	Views/Reads: 5447/2827	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A complex twenties mystery.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

nervous young man attired in a tuxedo. I kept repeating to myself over 
and over, “I am a writer, I am a writer, I am a writer.” I exited my 
cabin and after asking directions several times, entered the luxurious 
dining room. The silk shaded lights and marble columns complimented the 
arched windows and soft draperies. The music of Vivaldi accompanied me 
to the Captain's table. 

I felt like a calf in a cattle market as the dignified diners were
introduced to me, some of whom just scowled and turned up their noses. 
Not Richard Sherman. He made me feel like I belonged at the 
distinguished table, and he introduced me as an author. 

The food was fitting for the grand setting. I sampled the culinary
delights of cold salmon, roast pig, roast beef and York hams. This was 
washed down with the finest champagne and brandy. Richard made it his 
business to involve me in the gist of his conversations, which settled 
me and made me believe that I belonged in this circle of upper echelon. 
I could not but notice his beautiful wife, who seemed much younger than 
her husband did; in fact, she cannot have been much older than I was. 

Joanne had long auburn hair, which was tied up in a bun. Her green eyes
and high cheekbones complimented her full lips, which were demanding to 
be kissed. Her ball gown was of the finest white silk, and all eyes 
were on her when she waltzed around the dance floor in the magnificent 
ballroom. 

“Beautiful isn't she?” 

“Yes she is.” I turned to face a tall, bronzed, handsome man. “And to
think he wants rid of her,” he drawled in an American accent. 

“Excuse me?” 

The stranger continued. “Richard absolutely despises her. He's found her
out for what she is. A gold digging bitch.” 

I took an instant dislike to the American. “I don't believe that I
should be hearing this, and I beseech you to keep a civil tongue, Sir.” 


“You're a writer aren't you? Just starting out? I know how difficult
that can be. The expense and the frustration as reject after reject 
follows... I may actually be able to help you.” 

“Help me, how?” 

“I know publishers, who after with a little prompting from me would be
delighted to take you on.” 

I eyed him suspiciously. “Why would you do this? I don't even know you.”


He offered his hand. “James Lorimer.” 

“David Musgrove.” 

“Yes, I know... Listen, I have an interesting proposition for you....
I'm a good friend of Richard's. He's asked me to offer you one thousand 
pounds, and of course the services of a top London publisher if you'll 
help us.” 

“That is some offer. What is it you ask of me?” 

The music of the violins ceased and the dancers now kicked their legs
and threw out their arms when the Jazz music started up. 

“Richard wants you to seduce his wife,” whispered Lorimer. 

“What! Are you mad?” 

“She's been cheating on him for years, but has never been caught. She
refuses to divorce him. He wants her out of his life, but it's 
difficult with him being in the public eye. It would be more 
appropriate if she were made to be the villain, if you see my meaning. 
To catch you two red-handed would be of great benefit. The public would 
then accept his divorce.” 

“This is crazy,” I mouthed. 

“Is it? One thousand pounds cash. Think about it. You're not committing
a crime. In fact, you'll be doing Richard a great service... You do 
like him don't you?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“Think about it, David. We'll not speak of this again unless you decide
to participate... Not a bad payday though is it? Bedding Joanne Sherman 
and getting paid for it.” 

“What makes you think she'd be interested in me?” 

Lorimer smiled. “You're a man aren't you? If you decide to go through
with it, meet me at eight' o'clock in the morning on the upper deck.” 

I never slept that night and it was nothing to do with the movement of
the sea. I felt I owed Richard a great deal after his encouragement. I 
tried to talk myself out of such an unruly deed, but the thought of 
sleeping with Joanne with her husband's permission was tipping the 
balance. 

The blazing, morning sun was evidence that we were in Mediterranean
waters, as I ambled along the upper deck. Lorimer was smoking a 
cigarette and did not seem too surprised with my presence. 

“Okay, I'll do it.” 

“Excellent! Now listen carefully, David. Richard is playing cards this
afternoon, leaving Joanne free for a few hours. Talk to her. Make a lot 
of eye contact. She'll no doubt fall for your boyish charm.” 

“And if she doesn't?” 

“Oh, she will, I know her too well... At the given time, you contact me
and inform me of the progress. Richard and I will conveniently walk in 
on your lovemaking. She'll have no choice but to agree to a divorce. If 
she doesn't, then we'll threaten to reveal her affairs to the media... 
Don't worry, we'll leave your name out of it, as I'm certain she'll 
agree to a sizeable settlement after the divorce. Under no 
circumstances are you to approach Richard or be seen with him. We must 
be careful... I'll hand you the money after the deed is done. Have you 
any questions?” 

“The publisher.” 

Lonsdale continued. “After the completion of your novel, you'll contact
me at a given address. Do we have a deal?” 

I nodded reluctantly. If I realised what I was getting into at the time,
I would have willingly dived into the blue waters of the Mediterranean 
Sea without a lifejacket. 

She was sitting alone in the Garden Lounge when I ordered a cold beer.
She was engrossed in a novel, and smoking a cigarette from a long ivory 
holder. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” I asked. 

She smiled and motioned towards the seat before returning to her novel. 

“What are you reading?” 

“Some mish mash romance... Aren't you an author?” 

“Yes that's right. Well I'm hoping to be... How did you know?” 

She ignored the question. “How wonderful. What are you writing about?” 

I now had her full attention, and her green eyes explored me. “Actually,
it's a murder mystery.” 

“Marvellous. I'll make sure I read it when it's published.” 

“That's some way off yet.” 

“Joanne by the way.” 

“David.” 

“Tell me, David, are you married?” 

“No, I'm much too young.” 

Her seductive eyes scrutinised me. “A handsome thing like you. You'll be
a fine catch for someone.” 

She sipped her champagne and looked around. “David, will you walk with
me? I need some fresh air.” 

“Of course.” 

We walked the full length of the upper deck and back again. Joanne
laughed, twirling her parasol that protecting her face from the strong 
sun. “I get so bored on these cruises, David... So bloody bored... 
Richard is having an affair.” 

“Really,” I gulped, not expecting such a candid and personal statement. 

“Yes, with his cards. He thinks more of them than he does of me. I
cannot remember the last time we made love.” 

I was lost for words. It is not ladylike to speak with such frankness,
especially from someone of her social standing. 

“Joanne, have you been to Cairo before?” Pathetic yes, but it was the
first thing that entered my head. 

She again ignored the question. “I need a man, David. I'm hungry for
love.” She gripped my arm and looked into my eyes. “Will you come to my 
room tonight, David?” 

This was too easy. Joanne was doing my seducing for me. “But what about
Richard?” 

“His mistress, poker beckons him. He'll be at the tables until the early
hours of the morning.” 

“I don't know,” I feigned. 

“Well, David, if you can leave your novel alone for an hour or two, I'm
in cabin number 24A.” 

She walked away, twirling her parasol and leaving me a quivering wreck.
The fragrance of her perfume stayed with me minutes after she had gone. 
This was going to be so easy, or so I thought. Richard is right to want 
her out of his life; after all, it took Joanne about ten minutes to 
seduce me. I would be lying if I said that I was not excited by the 
thought of making love to Joanne. I only hoped that I could perform, 
given all the distractions of what was to come. 

Joanne answered the door wearing a silk, purple dressing gown and
proceeded to smother me with kisses. She checked the corridor before 
coercing me into the room. We drank champagne and fed each other 
strawberries, before Joanne slipped off her gown and lay naked on the 
bed. I glanced at the wall clock, as everything had to be timed to 
perfection. I undressed and she devoured me with her green eyes, like a 
cat that had cornered a mouse. She pulled me onto the bed and we kissed 
deeply, her hands reaching to my groin. Her firm breasts were warm to 
the touch as I caressed them, her gentle moaning encouraging me to go 
further. 

The door swung open and we turned to face Sherman and Lorimer. 

“What is the meaning of this?” screamed Sherman. “You, you bastard! I
offered you sympathy and all this time you were after my wife.” 

He swung at me, his fist connecting powerfully with my chin. Lorimer
restrained him, as I got to my feet and bounded out of the room naked, 
and holding my aching jaw. My clothes were tossed into the corridor and 
I returned to my room. I felt no satisfaction having duped Joanne; in 
fact, I wish they had arrived a little later. 

I received my fee and wrestled with my conscience for the rest of the
cruise, which interfered with my writing. I eventually completed my 
novel some six months later and decided to cash in on my debt. 

The address Lorimer had given me was in Kensington. Lorimer looked none
too pleased to see me when he invited me in. The house was lavishly 
furnished and the paintings that caught my eye were certainly not the 
possessions of a poor man. I never did ask what he did for a living. 

“Mr Musgrove,” he began, “I think I know why you're here.” 

“You know why I'm here, Lorimer.” 

“Yes indeed... I'll give you the address of the publisher... I hope the
events of the last few months don't play on your conscience, as they 
played on mine.” 

I was confused. “Excuse me?” 

“Joanne's death. You must have heard?” 

“She's dead?” 

“Yes. I'm afraid we've both been tricked David. Richard Sherman was
using us.” 

“I don't follow.” 

Lorimer continued. “Oh Richard divorced Joanne all right, but he never
gave her a penny. Her name was disgraced, as Sherman spread the rumours 
of her gallivanting on the Ocean Pearl. Oh, he kept your name out of it 
as promised, but the media hounded her, until she had a nervous 
breakdown. Sherman's solicitors ensured that she didn't receive a penny 
from him... The strain was too much for her and she fell from grace so 
as to speak. She took an overdose.” 

“Good God, when?” I asked. 

“A month ago... I'm surprised you never heard.” 

“No, I heard nothing. I've been deeply engrossed in writing my novel.” 

Lorimer shrugged. “So there you have it. You and I are partly
responsible for her death.” 

I was livid. “The bastard! Why don't you unveil him to the press?”
“Don't you think I haven't thought about that? If we go to the press, 
Sherman will sue the pants off us. We aided him don't forget, and you 
were paid for your part.” 

“There must be something we can do.” 

Lorimer pondered. “There is... One thing that is dear to Sherman's heart
is his fame. He's a vain man. If we could find a way to disgrace him it 
would surely finish him.” 

“But how?” 

“Are you with me, David?” 

I nodded eagerly. 

My heartbeat accelerated when I entered the restaurant. With my black
curly wig and dark glasses, I left nothing to chance. The doorman 
reluctantly admitted me, as I explained that I was a business 
acquaintance of Richard Sherman's and was to meet him for dinner. My 
throat was dry with nervousness when I approached his crowded table. 
Sherman looked up at me and showed no signs of recognition. 

“Hello Richard,” I said in a camp voice, bending over and kissing him
fully ,on the lips. 

He recoiled and got to his feet. “What is the meaning of this?” 

“You were supposed to meet me tonight, Richard, have you forgotten?” 

His fellow diners looked at each other in amazement as I continued the
charade. 

“You think more of them than you do of me, Richard; go on admit it?” 

“Is this a joke?” He looked at the diners, expecting them to burst into
laughter. He actually believed that he was the victim of a practical 
joke. 

“If this is how you're going to treat me then you can have your key
back,” I said, in an effeminate voice. 

His face reddened. “Get out! I don't know who you are and what your game
is. Out! Get out!” 

I blew him a kiss and departed, leaving the entire clientele of the
restaurant open-mouthed as I walked limp-wristed among them. The first 
part of the plan had been fulfilled. 

For the next two weeks, I kept up the farce; turning up unexpected at
every opportunity, until naturally, the press found out. Sherman made 
the headlines of every tabloid. Of course, he denied being a 
homosexual, but the media were baying for his blood and they had their 
scoop. Who was Richard Sherman's mysterious lover? The newspapers 
offered a sizeable sum for him to come forward, but of course, that was 
out of the question. 

Within weeks, Sherman was the forgotten man. Nobody, not producers or
directors would touch him. He had taken to staying indoors, as the 
paparazzi ridiculed him. Richard Sherman had become a recluse. 

As promised, I was introduced to a leading publisher, and my book was to
be published at the end of the year, which excited me immensely. Then 
one morning when browsing through my newspaper, I came across an 
article that would change my life forever. Richard Sherman had blown 
his brains out. This news did not shock me as it ought to have. I half 
expected it and showed no remorse for this cruel manipulator. 

I felt my bottom lip trembling like a child who had been scolded when I
read the next part. It mentioned that his wife Joanne was distraught 
and being comforted by friends. I dropped the newspaper and sat numbed 
by what I had read. It was not possible. Joanne Sherman had died of an 
overdose! 

The raindrops streamed down my unprotected face as I was standing on the
doorstep of the large house in Kensington. Lorimer was facing me, 
wearing a dressing gown and smoking a cigarette; a huge grin adorning 
his handsome features. “You'd better come in out of the rain, David.” 

I followed him to the elegantly furnished drawing room. He poured
himself a drink and offered me one, which I rejected. 

“I knew that it was only a matter of time before you found out,” he
said. 

“What the hell is going on, Lorimer?” I quizzed. 

That is when I heard the unmistakable husky voice and the footsteps
emerging from the bedroom. “Who is it, darling?” 

She looked a vision, even without make-up. Her auburn hair was
dishevelled and the dressing gown hung loosely on her. She realised who 
her lover's visitor was. 

“David, darling, what a nice surprise.” 

“Is it? Will you tell me what's going on?” 

She lit a cigarette and linked Lorimer, kissing him on the cheek.
Lorimer opened up. “David, I'm afraid we've deceived you... It was 
nothing personal; you were in the right place at the right time. If it 
wasn't you it would have been another young man on the cruise.” 

“Deceived me? I don't understand. Why did Richard pay me to seduce his
wife?” 

Lorimer blew out the smoke. “He didn't. I paid you, David. Richard knew
nothing of the arrangement.” 

I nodded. “That explains why he hit me so hard.” 

Lorimer continued. “Yes, I related to Richard that I saw you enter
Joanne's cabin... You see, we had to have you believe that Richard was 
behind the plot. It was obvious that you worshipped the man. ” I was 
now really confused. “I still don't follow.” 

“It was simple really. Joanne ensured that she stayed out of the papers
for a few months, just in case you read something about her. When you 
came to my house, I told you Joanne was dead. Then my friend, you 
almost know the rest.” 

“You mean, you knew he'd kill himself?” 

“But he didn't,” came in Joanne. “I shot Richard and claimed that I
found him dead in his study. Simple really, the police suspected 
nothing, as they were aware that he was in a state of depression.” 

“But why?” 

Joanne continued. “The same reason you undertook the task on the ship.
Money... You see, I now inherit all of his millions.” She gazed into 
her lover's eyes. “We'll wait a few months and then we'll marry, 
James.” 

I attempted to make sense of this intricate conspiracy. “Hold on, this
doesn't make sense. Why the elaborate plot? Why didn't you just fake 
his suicide in the first place?” 

Lorimer poured himself another drink. “Because, David, this way nobody
will suspect foul play. We had to get him in a state of depression, and 
thanks to you, it worked. We had to involve you in the beginning, don't 
you understand? You were emotional, a perfect subject. Once you 
believed Joanne was dead, you were like putty in my hands. Your acting 
of course left something to be desired, but it had the desired effect.” 


“I could go to the police,” I threatened. 

Lonsdale shrugged. “And tell them what? That you were involved in a plot
to murder Richard Sherman. Don't forget, you accepted money for your 
part in the deed. I have the wig you used in your disguise in 
safekeeping... Look on the bright side, David; you got your book 
published didn't you? Come on, have a drink.” 

I turned around and left that house, my confusion magnified threefold. 

So here I am, doing what I do best, writing. I am not a brave man. Yes,
I battled with my conscience over the next few years, but could not 
convince myself to go to the police. I am now an old man, but everyday 
I think of Richard Sherman. I watch his movies over and over again. I 
write this as a confession to be read after I die. My vast wealth does 
not compensate for what I have done. 

Lorimer and Joanne indeed married. The union lasted just over a year
before Joanne fell in love with a Hollywood producer. Shortly after the 
incident, I wrote another novel, and it turned out to be a best seller. 
I will leave it to you to work out the plot. It did not take much 
research. 


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