London's East End. 2005.
My new boss scanned the Freetimes Fitness Centre, "Has Mrs Bennett gone?"
"Yes. She didn't mention the mould."
"Did she take her nipple Twinkies?"

"No."

Amber cackled, "Told you so. We're closing up in half an hour - bus strike. Last coffee - here."

"Thanks. Chin chin!"

"Yes, so I said to Officer Groom: I can understand that you can't arrest Chatter, Officer, because he hasn't acted out yet but what my other client Murderer does is so fucking creepy it should count for something - he's the one who should be under surveillance!"

"What does Murderer do?"

“He’s a High Court Judge. My only client I visit in person. Make him pay for my fucking taxi, though. Always add in a tenner for the driver - tell him to come back in an hour and wait outside. If I don't come out he's to call the police and ask for Officer Groom. Quick, I tell him."

“Murderer’s a High Court Judge?!"

"Lives up in the Village."

"So why d'you call him Murderer? What's he into?"

"Showing me round his house."

"What"? He pays you sixty quid an hour plus taxi just to show you round his house?"

"He shows me in all the rooms and I have to answer his questions. About his decorating plans. Even though he hasn't changed one single thing in that fucking house since his mum died twenty years ago. It's like Psycho. He keeps the front room locked. It's stacked with old furniture. All crammed in. Like a junk shop. So there's no light coming through the windows. Once he's shown me round we have to go and sit in his Special Room."

"And?"

‘I have to sit on the floor and listen while he describes all the things his mum and dad used to do to him. Don’t ask. You really don't want to know."

"So why's this room Special, then? What's in it?"

"Nothing," said Amber, "Nothing but ladies' shoes. Red ones. Lined up in rows on the carpet. Row after row of them. It's a big room - there must be a hundred. Ha ha - look at your face! Don't worry, they're all new - never been worn. Expensive ones, too. Must have cost him a fortune. Thing is, there's only one from each pair. I don't know what he does with the others but I do know one thing - he's not wearing them to fucking work," cackled Amber.
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