Miss Spiteful's War
The Dominafuhrer 1952
Miss Spiteful's Gold
Give My Regards To Bremen
Storm Takes A Bow
Two Long Winters
Bonnie Ingrid Of The Argylls
A Soldier's Wife For Me
What Became Of The Lively Ladies?
Castanelli Meets The Order
Kelly From Calgary
Three On The Bed
Solace For Solitaire
The Early Morning Tease Maid
The Chevvy With The Fritz On Top
J Edgar Hoovering
Signals From The Past
Gold In The Grave
Morning In Manhattan
Six Hatch A Plan
Back To Berlin
Two Little Girls From School Are We
Spoiling Miss Spiteful
The Taming Of The Slave
Kaffee At KaDeWe
Sugar's Stroll In The Park
The Checkpoint Chorus
The GDR People's Silvery Moon
Into The Tomb
The Festival Is Over
The Stasi At Night
Old Photographs Never Lie
A Fair Exchange For Freedom
The Night Porter
Surgery En Suite
A Stiffie For Sapphire
The Torturous Twins
A Stilletto Up The Back
News From The East
We're Going To Wedding
Down In The Dungeon
Nappies, Knots and Needles
Walkies With Alfred
Black Marcius For Miss Spiteful
The Return Of The Dominant 7
Grab Your Knickers And Run
Vive La France
Showdown With Seraph
The Stories of Yvonne Sinclair
The Sacred Feminine
The Story Of T
The Weight Loss
A Caning By Miss Spiteful
Always On The Bare
A Visit To Greenwich
At My Lady's Pleasure
Ball Shackle Story
I Met Claire In A Coffee Shop
Long Weekend Conclusion
Robin's Electrical Torture
Slave To The Cane
The Escape Artist
The Huntress Caning
The Language School
The Worm's View
The Bossy Bank Women
Episode 14 - J Edgar Hoovering
With that, his head fell forward on his chest and he slumped in his chains, exhausted from his confession and the pain of his injuries. We all stood in silence, unable to comprehend what we had heard and staring at each other in wonderment. At last, Stiletto broke the silence.
"Well, are we rich or what?"
"I don't know," Miss Spiteful said. "There certainly wasn't any gold in Von Kreps's safe or his pockets. I think that he had planned to disappear with the gold anyway. Ingrid and I found a false passport and travel documents in his papers but there was nothing about gold or money."
"But don't you remember that there were two signals there," I pointed out. "They were in the Enigma code. You showed then to me and said that you'd look at them later."
She gave me a guilty look and then brightened.
"I've still got them somewhere. I never got around to throwing them out. Come on!"
She threw her whip down and was heading for the door when Sapphire stopped her.
"What about Plutz? Can't he tell us anymore?"
Miss Spiteful shook her head. "No. I know about ODESSA and Otto Skorzeny. A real nasty piece of work, he did Walter Schellenberg's dirty jobs and kidnappings. He's got a big duelling scar on his cheek and he asked me if I was attracted to him by it. I replied that I'd rather meet the man who did it to him and he didn't like that. Anyway, ODESSA was set up before the end of the war and, like the Werewolves, they operate in isolated cells and probably receive their orders by telephone or dead letter drops. The men at the top will be respected businessmen and politicians now and are untouchable. Even I couldn't take them on. All we can do is send them a message back to leave us alone but I can't guarantee that they will."
We all returned to the drawing room where Kelly, still in her chauffeur's uniform, was watching cartoons on the television with her feet up and smoking a cigarette.
"Where's Mary?" Miss Spiteful demanded.
"Last time I checked, she was laying on your bed with a pair of your dirty knickers on her face and jerking off." Kelly couldn't quite keep a note of satisfaction out of her voice.
Miss Spiteful frowned but let it pass.
"I want you to dress the prisoner, put a swastika armband on his sleeve, get him into the car and push him out onto the street in Harlem or Yonkers. I don't think that he will resist but you can hit him again if you need to."
Kelly stubbed out her cigarette, got to her feet, put her cap on and gave a mock salute.
"Jawohl, sure, whatever," she grumbled as she went into the dungeon.
Miss Spiteful went to her portrait on the wall and lifted it off to reveal the front of a wall safe. Deftly dialling the combination, she opened the door and rummaged through the contents.
"Got it!" she exclaimed, holding up Von Kreps's wallet which I had last seen in the Berlin dungeon, seven years before. The contents were tipped out onto the coffee table and Miss Spiteful passed me the two, folded signal forms with the comment "You're the expert."
I lit a cigarette while I studied the forms, letting my mind get into its decryption mode, which I had not used since the war. Kelly passed through the drawing room, still muttering, with a semi-conscious Plutz draped over her shoulders in a fireman's lift. No one paid them any interest because all of their attentions were focused on me.
"First of all," I finally announced. "They are both in the SS Enigma code. The wheels, the settings and the code-book to be used are here at the tops of the messages."
"But what do they say?" Solitaire asked, her olive breasts bouncing up and down in their cups as she clapped her hands in excitement.
"Sadly," I replied. "I can't tell you without a machine, the right wheels and code-book. I've no idea where we are going to get them."
"Ach! But I know a man that does." Miss Spiteful exclaimed. She reached for her handbag, took out her money clip, and peeled off some twenty-dollar bills.
"Look, Kelly will not be back for some time and my next client is due in an hour." She passed the money and a business card to Stiletto. "There's the address of a bar on Park Avenue. The Concierge will get you a Yellow Cab. Have some drinks, enjoy yourselves but don't let Sapphire get drunk and be back for eight. Now Storm," she turned to me. "I'm really sorry to ask you this but, in Kelly's absence, I will need your special talents as my maid. But, first of all, write down exactly everything that you will need to decipher these messages."
Miss Spiteful stood up and went to the door that led to the bedrooms.
"Mary!" she called out. "Stop that at once and come in here, now!"
The other ladies were getting dressed when a strange apparition appeared in the door of the drawing room. It was a short man, with bulging eyes in a sallow creased face to which grotesque makeup had been applied. On top of his head was a curly golden wig and he wore high heeled sandals with pink bobbles on each foot. Behind a large white apron, his body was encased in an old-fashioned pink corselet with eight wide suspenders holding up black fishnet stockings. He held a feather duster in his hand as he looked quizzically at Miss Spiteful.
I gasped, even in this disguise it was not hard to recognise J. Edgar Hoover, the head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He did not seem to be aroused by seeing five females in various stages of undress.
Miss Spiteful passed him the note of my requirements for deciphering the enigma messages.
"Mary. How soon can you get me everything on this list?"
Hoover raised his black eyebrows as he read.
"The CIA probably have one of the machines but the NSA will definitely have everything. What do you want them for?"
Miss Spiteful gave that sweet disarming smile of hers, which usually meant that the truth was the last thing that we would hear.
"Oh, Ingrid here was once my secretary and she has brought me some old love letters that were sent to me in code. I'd just like to know what dear Heinrich and Josef said to me in their last messages."
She dabbed at an imaginary tear in the corner of her eye with her handkerchief.
Hoover's face brightened when he spotted the outline of my male genitals in my blue knickers and a bulge appeared in the front of his apron.
Miss Spiteful noted his interest in me.
"Ingrid has agreed to be my maid while Kelly takes this afternoon off."
I took my cue from her, thrust my hips forward, placed both hands behind back as I swung my shoulders and spoke in a shy little voice.
"Oh, Miss Spiteful. Could Mary please help me get dressed in my maid's outfit? That corset is so tight and I have trouble reaching down to clip my suspenders to the stocking tops."
Behind us, Solitaire giggled and, at a warning look from Miss Spiteful, the others hurriedly finished dressing and left.
Perspiration had broken out on Hoover's brow and he coughed to clear his throat.
"Well, the fact that we have these codes is still meant to be top secret. The British don't want the world to know that we were able to read the German codes because they still hope that the Commies will use the same system. I'll need to think up a good story to get all this out of Washington."
"Today!" Miss Spiteful emphasised and Hoover looked even more dubious.
I fluttered my eyelashes at him, ran my tongue over my glossy red lips and eased the elastic band of my knickers down my hips, making Hoover gulp.
"You're asking a lot, Miss Spiteful."
Then she played her trump card.
"That Congressman from Boston that you are interested in is due to visit me at any moment. Why don't you and Ingrid watch me at work with him?"
"I'll make the call," Hoover snapped. "You'll have it all here tonight even if I have to send in a squad of G-Men and commandeer an Air Force Jet to fly the stuff up to New York."
As he picked up the telephone and began dialling, Miss Spiteful gave me a thumbs up sign.
"We're in business," she whispered.
To continue this story, click Signals From the Past