Seduction and interrogation

“Let’s begin with the most important question. Where were you last night, Mr Bradford?” my tone turned professional, but I maintained the seductive pose.

“Right here detective. With a group of friends,” the host acted relaxed and confident. I had to admit that he was a worthy opponent.

I noted all the names and their phone numbers; the alibi would have to be checked, but I was certain that all of the people he listed would confirm his story. I then proceeded to the rest of the standard questions. This procedure was almost a routine, only adjusted to the specifics of each case. I spiced the interrogation by occasionally re-crossing my legs or leaning forward when reaching for my coffee, thus offering a glimpse into my cleavage. Bradford was trying to be discreet, but he was constantly checking out my body. I could not tell whether I managed to distract him enough, so that he would make a slip in his testimony. The host was undeniably attracted to me, but for now managed to maintain composure.

Bradford was equally cooperative the entire time and his testimony was coherent and sounded truthfully. Yet I had a constant suspicion that there was a second bottom and he was withholding something from me; but no questions or teasing could get it out of him. It seemed that I would have to return to him when I obtained more evidence or traces. Too bad, because I was hoping for some more excitement when Michael Bradford was concerned; at least our little game has been pleasant.

“Thank you, Mr Bradford,” I changed my voice to the flirty one, “I appreciate your cooperation and the coffee, it was delicious. I’ll call you if I have any more questions.”

“The pleasure is all mine, detective,” the host’s voice matched mine, “let me walk you out.”

I stood up and so did Bradford, he escorted me towards the elevator. I walked slowly and swayed my hips to the sides; when playing a game do it until the end.

“Detective…” the host said before we exited the room.

“Yes, Mr Bradford?” I stopped and gave him an inquiring yet sweet look.

“As a law-abiding citizen I would very much like to see this case solved, especially since a dead man had been found in my restaurant.”

“Is there something more you would like to tell me?” my voice remained charming.

“Would you be willing to do me a favour if I offered you help?”

So there was a second bottom after all.

“I’ll see what I can do. What is the kind of help you’re offering?”

“Information. One that isn’t necessarily directly involved with the case, but might lead to the murderer.”

“How do you know it was a ****?” I was still all sweet and innocent.

“I’ve seen the body before you arrived. The victim seemed to have been shot, so I assumed he was murdered.”

“Of course,” I left it at that for now, “about that information…?”

“Yes, of course. But first the favour, if you don’t mind.”

“I didn’t think you were so impatient, Mr Bradford. What can I do for you?”

For a moment he remained silent, then he said:

“Would you give me a lap dance?”

Ha! It required some effort to remain silent. So he was not so immune to my charm after all. I never thought he would be so bold though.

“Mr Bradford, I’m a police detective on duty. Such behaviour would be improper. But for the sake of good cooperation let’s say I’ll consider the proposal IF your information turns out to be useful.”

“All right, detective. I trust in your fairness. Let me bring something more to drink, so you can wet your lips while you listen.”

I agreed to the drink proposal, then asked for the way to the bathroom. When I returned Bradford was already sitting on the couch and the drinks were waiting on the table; they looked a bit suspicious, as if there was more than just juice in the glasses. I once again assumed my sexy pose and let the host have a good look at my body; I wanted to remind him that he would need to earn the possibility of a lap dance. I took a sip of the drink and confirmed my suspicions, it included ****; and it wasn’t even ten yet. Oh well… Bradford began to speak as I was swallowing. The information he provided was interesting to say the least. It indeed was not directly connected with the body, but seemed promising, if put under further investigation. If Bradford was making the whole story up he would have to spin it rather thickly; such a hypothesis was not impossible, although improbable. What he was telling me seemed to be filling the holes I had sensed earlier.

The idea of performing a lap dance sounded bold, but also oddly attractive, even though it could be taking the whole seduction game a bit too far. Before I agreed I had to ask a few more questions though. I first reached for my drink and found out it was empty; it was so tasty that I did not even notice when I had finished it.

“Let me refill that,” the host proposed and I did not object.

After he returned with a new drink I asked him a few questions and he answered them dutifully. If I were to be fair I would have to admit that Bradford earned his lap dance, thanks to the new information I had a much broader field to work on. Even though as a police detective on duty I should not behave in such a manner, I WANTED to do it; the excitement of the seduction was pushing me in that direction. After all it would not be THAT bad, I would keep all of my clothes on.