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CHAPTER SIX - First Night

I returned to Hendry's the following evening, arriving a little before seven o'clock. I wanted to create a good impression and had no desire to be late.
As expected someone had been in contact with Hugo earlier that the day. I got to speak to Hugo on my mobile just before setting out, and he assured me they'd fallen for his story. He said that he'd put in a few good words for me, telling them I'd been a member of his club for fifteen years as agreed, and that I knew all the ropes, so to speak.
Earlier that day I'd been to the bank. As I drove out of London I had five-thousand pounds on me, all in used twenty pound notes. The money was all in a brown envelope and in my inside pocket. This was how Hendry had specified that the payment should be made. I'd been told to hang onto the money until he arrived and give it to him personally, but in the meantime I was to enjoy myself at the club and that Fernando, the barman, would be expecting me.
Up until this point in the story, I guess by now you're thinking what a simple, straight forward case this is turning out to be, and pretty soon I'd be hot on the trail of Judy Jones. Well I guess I was feeling that way too as I drove out towards Hendry's club that evening. But how wrong I was. Thinking back now, this was the point when everything began to go wrong, so let me tell you all about it.
I guess it all started when I rounded the final bend to Hendry's place. It was at this point I saw something I was not expecting. Parked up on the opposite side of the road from the house was one of those pool cars I had seen in the police station car park just a few day ago. I could tell this because of the number plate sequence. I have a habit of committing numbers to memory, and this was most definitely one from that sequence.
From the way the car was positioned in the shadows I could only think that the man inside was keeping an eye on the big house. I turned my head away and drove quickly past and into the drive.
As I cruised up the gravel driveway towards the big house, I tried to figure out just what was happening. I asked myself just why the Drugs Squad would be parked up outside?
I concluded that Hendry's club must have had something to do with drugs and that the place was being staked out. That spelt bad news for me, and if that was the case, then there was a good chance of a raid was on the cards in the very near future.
I decided to be doubly careful from now on. If ever Hendry found out that I was a cop, even an ex-one that meant him no harm, it would still blow the whole operation sky-high, and where would that leave my standing with Harry Bell? I dreaded to think.
There were three cars parked in the member's area and another four over on the other side of the house reserved for staff. In the member's area there stood a Japanese sports coupe, a Porsche and a Jaguar not too dissimilar to the on I had on hire. I pulled up next to the Jaguar, got out of my car and walked up to the front door. I rang the bell then stood back so that the surveillance camera could pick me up. Unlike the day before no one answered. Instead the door opened with an electronic clunk and a voice with a Spanish accent from a speaker in the wall beckoned me in.
I passed under the chandelier, said hello to the statues, avoided the thunder bolts, and moved briskly down the long corridor to the bar. At seven o'clock in the evening the club looked a little different to my first visit. For starters there were half a dozen people in the bar, and with the curtains drawn, the room filled with smoke, soft music and the lighting down low, the whole place had a totally different ambience.
Fernando was waiting for me behind the bar. I hung up my top-coat on a stand by the door and sauntered towards him. I scaled up onto one of the high chairs. With my back to the room I could sense that all eyes were upon me, so I turned my body round through ninety degrees and propped myself up on one elbow.
Fernando seemed aware of my uneasiness and promptly introduced me to the people in the room.
"Gentlemen, this is Mr. Woods, our latest recruit," he said with voice raised just enough to be heard above the droning piped music, "please make him welcome."
I put on my best grin and nodded in turn to the three male members in the room, and each in turn either nodded back or waved. Then that was it. I was now an officially recognised member of this elite club, and all further interest in me just seemed to evaporate into thin air.
Two of the club's girls also acknowledged my presence with a little wave, whilst the third, unfortunately, was in no position to do anything about it. She was a bit tied up so to speak. I tried to weigh up what type of person frequented this place, but found it very difficult to assess. The only common factor I had so far established was that you had to be loaded with money.
One of the members, a smart little man in a pin-striped suit, with a greying moustache and gold-rimmed spectacles was seated at the end of the bar chatting to a really dolled up tart. She was a bit buxom to say the least, with huge breasts spilling out from a tightly strapped corset. Her thighs were no mean size either, bulging from the tops of her fish-net stockings. She was also pushing on in years, but exactly how many was hard to say through the inch-thick make-up smothered all over her face. I wished the man all the luck in the world. It seemed to me he needed it. Just for something to do, with the three men in the bar and the three cars parked outside, I decided to do a little detective work. I allocated the Jaguar out to this man at the bar, then tried to figure out who owned the other two cars.
The second member, again dressed in a smart blue suit, but this time a lot younger and looking all the world like the upwardly mobile executive type one sees in the city, was seated at a table away in the far corner, near to the stage and sharing a bottle of wine with an attractive, young looking blonde. As ever I had visions of Judy Jones, but this was not her, her nose and jaw-line were all wrong and her body too thin and skinny. As for the exercise of allocating cars, the Porsche outside most definitely belonged to this man.
The third member, the owner of the remaining Japanese sports coupe by process of elimination, was already well into his act, performing in the centre of the room with his chosen companion for the evening. He was dressed all in leather gear, which didn't seem at all out of place, and probably more in keeping with the true nature of the place. His girl companion was chained between two posts of frame positioned centre floor, and stood with her arms and legs outstretched. She was naked except for a suspender belt and stockings. The man was amusing himself by tickling her fanny with a large feather. The girl had her head down observing the goings on between her legs so I couldn't get a good look at her face. However, her dark coloured hair and smallish frame told me that she wasn't the girl I was looking for.
I turned round to Fernando.
"A double scotch and soda please," I ordered politely.
"The first drink's on the house courtesy of Mr. Hendry. The rest goes onto your monthly account. Like I explained yesterday, we don't take cash over the bar, you save it all for the girls," Fernando reminded me as he stretched for an optic.
I took the drink and began to ponder. I considered whether now was the right time to mention blonde girls, and to one in particular, but a buzzer beneath the bar sounded and Fernando moved away.
Under the counter, at the far end of the bar, a number of small black and white monitor screens were flickering away. I could tell by the light reflecting from the glasses and bottles opposite. Fernando took a quick glance at one of them and flicked a switch. Not long afterwards a man came into the room.
Fernando set about mixing a cocktail.
I greeted the new arrival with a polite "Good evening," as he arrived to stand at the bar.
The man returned the greeting but did not appear interested in the fact that the club had one new member.
In a quiet whispering voice he spoke to Fernando: "Is the young girl Pearl on duty tonight?"
Fernando shook his head.
"Sorry Mr. Smith," he apologised, "she's out for the rest of the week. She'll be back for the weekend though we hope."
"Caught a bad one did she?" suggested the man, and still talking in a low whispering voice.
"No, not really! She's just a bit stiff and bruised after last weekend's sessions, so the boss told her to take a few days off," Fernando explained to him.
"Who's on tonight then?" murmured the man.
"Very little at the moment, I'm waiting for someone to show up for Mr. Woods here," said Fernando and nodding in my general direction.
For a second or two there was an uneasy silence. Fernando, as if to look as if he was doing something to change the situation, sidled off to consult the monitors once more. I followed his movements. Something new must have happened. From the reflected light on his face there appeared to be a good deal of flickering suggesting movement on the screen.
Fernando looked relieved and breathed: "Ah, saved! Gentlemen, you're both in luck. Suzette and Bo have just arrived. They're getting changed right now. They should be along very shortly."
The man on hearing the news got his order in first, telling Fernando in a hushed voice: "I'll take Suzette then?"
Fernando seemed unconcerned.
"I'll see to that Mr. Smith," he told him.
On hearing the news the man took up his drink and moved away to sit alone at a distant table, and as far removed from everyone else as possible.
I took the fact that the man had pulled rank over me quite philosophically. What interested me more was the type of security they had here. From my own general observations outside I was aware that the front door was protected by a security camera and an electronic lock, and that the front and sides of the house were all covered by further security cameras. Yet somehow two girls had arrived at the house and managed to make their way to the ladies changing room, wherever that may be, without triggering off any sort of alarm.
I made a mental note of this flaw in security, then spent the rest of the time pondering over what sort of girl Bo would turn out to be. From the evidence so far, the girls here seemed to come in all shapes and sizes - fat, thin and short - and in all age groups too, from the very young to the very old. I sipped my drink and tried to imagine Bo as being someone young and attractive. Then I thought about Sandy and Hugo's girls, and what was expected of me, and for the first time that evening I had butterflies in my stomach. I quickly knocked back my drink and ordered another double scotch.
As I waited for my unseen mystery host to appear, my train of thoughts became distracted by a series of thwacks directed towards the girl chained between the posts in the middle of the floor. The man in charge had finally got round to tanning her backside with a long and flexible cane. He was hitting her quite hard too.
Having not much else to do, I swung round on my stool to face into the room, and hoping to learn a little as to what was going on. To my surprise the scene had changed a touch whilst my back had been turned. The girl was now blindfolded and had a ball-gag in her mouth. Also a couple of nipple-clamps and weights had been attached to her breasts. It all looked very painful, but other than a large hissing gasp for breath after each stroke of the cane, she looked quite at ease with all that was happening to her.
After about a dozen or so hard thwacks with the cane the man appeared to tire and sit down at an adjoining table to take a sip of his drink. I waited for the man to catch his breath and continue on with his onslaught, but nothing immediate happened.
After a good five minutes with no action taking place, the member with the fat lady decided it was time to move on. Seated at the end of the bar, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers. I looked behind the bar to see Fernando open up a small refrigerator and take out two aerosol cans of fresh cream. I smiled, for I knew what he was going to do with them, or at least I assumed I did. I could also see that there were quite a number of cans in freezer, so this must have been a regular feature.
The man and the fat lady departed the bar via the door to the corridor, I assumed they were heading for one of the numbered rooms upstairs. I felt like remarking whether just two aerosol cans would be enough to cover all that bulging flesh, but discretion got the better of me. Instead I decided to take the opportunity to chat a little more with Fernando, so I swung back round to face the bar.
However, that turned out not to be the case. Over on the far side of the room a door opened and two girls stepped into the room. The bar was badly lit over on the far side, so I couldn't see clearly at first, but as they strolled side by side up to the bar, and passed beneath a spotlight, I nearly choked on my drink. I think it was at this precise point in time when fate took control and everything started to go wrong.
Outwardly the two girls were as different as chalk and cheese, one was very young, just out of school, the other a much more older and mature female, probably in her mid-thirties. The younger one had blonde hair and was wearing a very short leather skirt with matching top and a studded choker collar about the neck. The older one's hair was jet-black, probably dyed, cut very short and spiky on top. She was dressed in what I can only describe as a series of thin leather straps wrapped around the body: Their only purpose in life seemingly to keep in place three discreetly positioned triangular patches.
This second girl, the one with the cropped spiky hair, and the three triangular leather patches, was the woman who had made me choke on my drink. This, believe it or not, was the very same person I'd seen getting into a pool car on Monday morning when I was on my way to see Harry Bell, and incidentally, the same car that was now parked outside in the road with a man inside.
I must admit I became a little nervous the moment I saw her. This woman I told myself, just had to be an undercover cop. She had the walk of a cop, the upright arrogant stance of a cop, the haircut of a cop and all the other mannerisms I had grown to associate with being a cop. If ever my life depended on picking one out in a crowd then she would be the one I would choose.
At least I now knew what the man outside was up to. He was keeping an eye on their agent inside. I wished them both the best of luck, but decided that whatever they were up to, it was still none of my business. All I was here for was to find a certain Miss Judy Jones and nothing else. I crossed my fingers and prayed that the cop's name was Suzette and that she would keep well away from me.
But alas my instincts told me that this was not to be so. I remembered the whispering man's first remarks when he walked in and asked for the young girl Pearl. His tastes were definitely for the younger types.
As the two girls got closer Fernando pointed to the man sat at the table in the far corner the room and called: "Suzette, can you go over to Mr. Smith please."
The teenage blonde immediately swung round through ninety degrees and veered off to twist and weave her way between the various pieces of BDSM equipment positioned near the centre of the room, and in doing so leaving the dark haired one to head for the bar alone. She had with her a large handbag. She placed it on the bar next to me and shuffled up onto a neighbouring stool, and all the time trying hard to keep her thin leather straps and triangles in all the right places.
"Good evening," I said and putting on my best smile, "my name's Woody. I'm new here, and I guess you're Bo?"
She smiled at me, then looked me up and down before answering.
"Yes I'm Bo," she confirmed, and then holding out a hand she added: "Welcome to the Hendry's."
We shook hands briefly, just lightly touching fingertips before she turned to Fernando behind the bar and asked: "Who else's on tonight?"
Fernando shook his head.
"No one! You're it I'm afraid!" he replied.
Bo raised an eyebrow but showed no other emotion.
"You want me to do the honours with Woody then?" she asked.
Fernando nodded his head.
"If you don't mind Bo," he said, "Woody needs to be shown around the place first though. He's not had much chance to see anything yet, and he's not been down below either."
Bo nodded her head to show that she understood the situation.
"Okay Fernando, no problem, I'll do all the necessities," she said, then added: "By the way, is anyone down there now?"
Fernando shook his head.
"No, it's vacant," he said, "I've reserved the dungeon exclusively for Woody this evening."
I felt flattered, then remembered that this was going to cost me another two-hundred and fifty pounds.
"Why thanks, that must be a great honour for me," I remarked and lying through my teeth.
Fernando shrugged his shoulders.
"Hendry's orders," he explained simply.
I wondered why Hendry had done that? I couldn't imagine all first time customers getting the same treatment. I wanted to delve a little further but the guy from centre floor came to the bar and Fernando moved away to serve him.
I turned to face Bo and gave her my best lecherous smile. Bo returned the smile. I think she beat me hands down as far as lecherous looks went, and I could see that we were going to get on well here.
"Well what's it to be then Woody?" she asked as I tried to look a little more lecherous that before. "Got anything specific in mind? Or do you just want to see what goes on first? Get a feel for the place?"
I straightened my face, uncurled my top lip, and took a sip of my drink. I was not wanting to be rushed into any decision making. Hugo, during one of my many phone calls, had suggested it best I go in hard right from the start. 'Give them something to be impressed about', he'd advised wisely. I rubbed my chin and began to consider how best to answer.
Bo, in the meanwhile, appeared unconcerned that I did not give an immediate answer. She took out a packet of cigarettes from her bag. She offered me one but I declined. Again, showing no outward signs of emotion, she selected one for herself and lit it using one of those big old petrol driven lighters with a flip-top lid.
It was at this point I realised exactly what she was doing. The bitch had taken my photograph. There was a hidden camera in that lighter, I knew this to be a fact because I'd seen that model before. It was standard police issue. Immediately I got suspicious of the handbag too, for it was far too big and bulky for toting around in a place like this. I did not like the look of the perforated brass stud in the middle of a decorative leather bow either: It looked all the world like a microphone to me. I knew that they would not risk transmitting, it would be too dangerous, so I assumed there to be a cassette recorder inside taking down everything I said.
I tried not to show any emotions, but I must admit I had to admire the woman's courage. For someone to go undercover and do exactly what she was doing required a whole lot of bottle. I decided to ignore Hugo's advice and take up her offer to show me around first.
"I'd like to look around the place first," I told her, but to sound equally hard I added: "I guess there'll be plenty of time to get down to the real business afterwards."
Bo gave a little knowing smile.
"I've time for a quick drink then?" she asked. "The usual custom here is to have drinks before and after."
I turned my head. Fernando was just finishing serving the guy from centre floor. I indicated to him to give Bo whatever she wanted, then watched in horror as he dispensed four shots of vodka from an optic into a glass. At something like five pounds a shot this was going to be a very expensive evening.
Bo took the glass and raised it to me.
"Cheers!" she said with a smile.
"My pleasure," I lied.
As Bo knocked back half the glass in one gulp, the door over on the far side of the room opened and three people walked in. One of them was Hendry, the other two I had not seen before. One was a big fellow closely related to Neanderthal Man, the other a dolled up tart wearing real fur and enough jewellery to sink a battleship. Walking together in arrow formation - Hendry to the front, the other's in tow - they approached the bar.
Both Hendry and the apeman were in evening dress with stiffly starched white collars and dickie-bows. It looked like they were ready for a night at the opera. The woman was also dressed for the same occasion. Beneath the mink stole she wore a heavily sequinned, full flowing, dark evening gown, complete with long, elegant black gloves that reached the top of her arms, and she walked in a pair of high-heeled shoes that must have added another six inches to her height. Her hair was blonde, held tightly back in a bun, and for a brief moment I had visions of Judy Jones. But, like earlier, this turned out not to be case. As she came within the spotlighted area I could see that she was a good ten to fifteen years older. I placed her age somewhere in her mid-thirties.
Bo and myself were perched on our barstools, facing each other, our knees almost touching. Hendry came straight up to me.
"Ah, Woody, I'm so glad you could make it. Have you got that little package I ask for?" he said.
I handed him the envelope. He took it and put it in his inside pocket without giving a second glance.
"Finding everything to your liking I hope?" he commented.
"Everything's just fine," I assured him, "just fine."
Hendry patted me on the shoulder.
"Brilliant! That's what I like to hear," he said with a broad grin upon his face. He then went on to say: "Now, if you'll excuse me Woody, I've got a little business to discuss with Fernando."
And with that he turned to Fernando and motioned with his head that he would like a word with him in private at far end of the bar. But before going Hendry held out his hand to me.
"Well Woody, enjoy yourself," he said.
"I intend to," I replied.
We shook hands. He then moved away to have his little chat with the barman.
Bo appeared to be content to just sit and blow smoke into the air. Hendry and Fernando were behind her. So looking over her shoulder I was able to keep an eye on the conversation. Now I'm not a trained lip reader, but Bo is a very simply name to mouth and not too difficult to figure out, so I guessed that the conversation in some way centred around my allotted companion for the evening.
That much I figured out, however I was still at a loss. For whatever it was they wanted of Bo, it seemed they could not come to any agreement. Every time Hendry suggested something I saw Fernando shake his head. Finally the barman pointed towards the woman in the evening dress, and after a little more banter she too was called over to join in the discussion.
I lip read a little more of what was being said. It seemed that Hendry wanted to talk to Bo urgently - something had cropped up that could not wait - and he wondered if she would be kind enough to step in and take her place for the evening. The cancellation of tickets was also mentioned, as was something about a new diamond necklace, but I did not translate it all. However, from the look upon the woman's face I would say she was not too unduly put out by Hendry's last minute changes of plan, and was only too willing to go ahead with the fresh proposals.
Hendry looked relieved and called me over. I slid down off my stool and walked across to join them. Bo followed my movements after suddenly realising that something was going on. Hendry's dolly bird was giving me a big smile as I arrived which made me feel a little uncomfortable. I smiled back at her. She was quite a pretty lass, and now that I was close up I could see two big reasons why Hendry liked her: She most definitely had a fine couple of assets going for her.
A little earlier, somewhat mistakenly, I'd estimated her age to be somewhere around thirty-five, the same as Bo's, but now on closer inspection I could see that perhaps she was a little younger, maybe thirty, thirty-one. It was just that with all her jewellery and her hair combed right back she looked a lot older and far more mature.
Hendry placed a hand upon my shoulder and spoke to me in a very apologetic voice.
"Woody," he started, "I'm awfully sorry but I need a big favour of you. You see, we're a bit understaffed tonight and I've gone and double booked Bo for the evening. It's my mistake. I'm sorry. What I really want to do, is for her to come with me. So Woody, if you don't mind, what I've gone and done is made other arrangements for you tonight. Anthea here has kindly agreed to step in at the last moment and take Bo's place. Now don't get me wrong, Bo's good, extremely good in fact, but she's not been in the game very long. Not like Anthea here. This girl knows a few tricks and I promise you you'll have a good time together. So what about it? You don't mind swapping partners for the evening do you Woody?"
I looked to Anthea, then back to face Bo still seated on the stool behind me and obviously wondering what it was all about. I did not reply immediately and stroked my chin as if deciding on the proposition put to me. My delay triggered Anthea to respond by throwing back her stole and thrusting out her breasts at me. Bo however simply knocked back the rest of her drink and showed little emotion.
Now don't get me wrong, the choice between Bo and Anthea did not really matter to me, seeing none of it was getting me any closer to finding Judy Jones. However, I was concerned over Bo's safety. I considered what would happen if I objected and said no? And whether or not I told them that I really would prefer Bo for the evening. At least that way I could warn her and tell her to get her backside out of here pronto and not look back. But on the other hand, where did that leave me? I had enough problems of my own and a dodgy identity to protect, and whatever was going on between the Drugs Squad and Hendry was none of my business.
I decided to forgive all my loyalties and leave Bo to fend for herself. I turned towards Anthea. She winked at me and held her shoulders right back so that I could get a good look at her two most valuable assets. I returned the wink and faced Hendry.
"Of course I don't mind," I told him, "I reckon me and Anthea here will get on like a house on fire. Won't we my dear?"
Hendry looked a little relieved.
"I'll leave you two to get on with it then," he said patting me on the shoulder, then added: "Good luck Woody," and leaving me and Anthea alone together in uneasy silence.
We walked to the bar together and I got Fernando to fix her up a drink, and I must admit I was relieved to hear her ask for a simple dry Martini.
While all this was going on Hendry had moved across to talk to Bo. I overheard him ask her to follow him to his office: He said he had something important to tell her in private. She seemed to accept his story quite calmly. She got down off her stool, collected her handbag and accompanied him out of the room with the Neanderthal trailing in their wake. To my surprise they left by the back door, the one which everybody except members appeared to use. This indicated to me that there was a back way to Hendry's office which I knew to be upstairs.
As the door closed I turned my attentions to Anthea. She was standing against the bar. Fernando had already fixed her a drink and she was sucking on a slice of lemon and pulling a face.
"What was that all about?" I asked.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"Beats me! Hendry never tells me a thing. And you know what?" she said looking up; her face still contorted from the lemon juice: "If you want to stay smart, don't ever try either."
I believed her. Her few words of wisdom came as no surprise to me. I decided to press on and told myself that Bo was not my problem, and that Judy Jones was my only concern.
"Well, what's the plan for tonight then?" I asked. "I'd like to get something started before Hendry changes his mind again."
Anthea knocked back her drink and put her arm through mine.
"You'd better come with me then Woody. A good time was promised and a good time you shall have," she said and steering me towards the door over on the far side of the room.
Which, by the way, was the same door by which Hendry and Bo departed. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. At last I was getting somewhere.
"What have I got to call you from now on then Woody?" Anthea asked as we began to walk away. "Have you got any special names for these occasions? Are you going to be called Master and me Slave?"
"No, nothing like that. You just call me Woody. Everybody else calls me Woody. I wouldn't know who you were talking to if I heard any other name!" I joked.
Anthea appeared to accept my wish without too much bother.
"And what about me Woody? What shall I be called then? Have you got any pet names for your girls?" she asked.
"I don't use pet names. Anthea sounds good enough for me," I told her.
She smiled.
"Anthea it shall be then," she confirmed.
As we crossed the floor and zigzagged through all the equipment we came close to the girl chained between the two posts. On passing Anthea gave a little tug to a weight attached to a nipple and the girl yelped loudly despite the ball-gag in her mouth.
I looked to her male companion and shrugged my shoulders as if to say it was nothing to do with me. He smiled and walked to greet me. He held out his hand.
"Hi, I'm Denny, Denny North, and welcome to the club," he said as we shook hands. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself to you earlier, but I was a bit preoccupied."
I nodded my head and gave a little knowing smile.
"I'm Woody, and I'm beginning to like it here," I told him.
Denny returned the smile.
"And I guess you're going to like it even more after a session with Anthea," he suggested.
I looked to Anthea, she'd found a riding crop from somewhere and was about to crack the girl across the backside with it. I closed my eyes as the wicked leather slapped hard against naked flesh.
"It looks like I've got to tame her first," I said.
Denny laughed.
"She is a bit of a loose canon sometimes," he replied.
I began to wonder what I'd landed myself with.
Anyway, I said goodbye to Denny, and set off again with Anthea once more holding onto my arm.
"Do you always do that?" I asked as we moved away.
Anthea stopped dead in her tracks.
"Do what?" she asked.
I guessed I should have said nothing and was showing my amateur status. Suddenly I was expecting the worst. Quickly I thought of something to say. Whether it was true or not I had no idea.
"Interfere with someone else's partner,… without permission, I mean?" I told her.
Anthea pulled a face and shook her head.
"Oh that!… No… Denny doesn't mind… and she just loves it!" explained Anthea and picking up the stride again.
I blew a sigh of relief and carried on walking with her arm tucked beneath my own.
As we neared the door Anthea spoke again: "Call you Woody hey? You sure you want me to call you Woody?"
She'd obviously had second thoughts over what she should call me, but at least the change of subject back to our original conversation suggested that my little lapse of concentration had passed by reasonably unscathed. I looked to her face. She was smiling broadly at me.
"I'm sure. Woody it's got to be. Why do you ask?" I replied and wondering what it was that amused her so.
"Oh nothing! It's just that like I say, most members usually want to be called master or something along those lines. I've never had a Woody in charge before," she answered light-heartedly and now with a noticeable chuckle to her voice.

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End of Chapter Six