As Magister Gulag sank into his newly installed jacuzzi, a cloud of white, frothy bubbles created a simmering, effervescent atmosphere. Billows of steam spiraled, twisting through the air, cloaking him in a hazy mist. Just then, a small tuft of blond hair sprouted from the water, peeking out from between his lower extremities, belonging to a hidden maiden lurking beneath the surface. Gulag checked out the beautiful woman’s naked form; her hair cascaded down her shoulders like a golden waterfall. He extended a glass of champagne toward her; a tint of playfulness shone across his eyes.

  “Thank you. This has truly been a remarkable experience.”

  Thanks to his persistence with Robinson. Gulag’s quarters resembled a study in luxury, with high ceilings and large windows offering panoramic sea views of the rugged coastline. A fine collection of exquisite watercolors and oil paintings, personally stolen from the Royal Box at Aintree, graced the walls as mementos of his twisted triumph. The centerpiece of the room was the jacuzzi, installed into the floor, surrounded by lazy boy lounge chairs, a well-stocked bar, and a state-of-the-art sound system.

  “You know, Magister, I must admit, I’d much rather be in here with you in this luxurious haven than in my quarters. The jacuzzi and the breathtaking views are irresistible.”

  “Be quiet, a man needs to think.”

  His fingers danced across the remote, bringing the giant TV screen to life. A live press conference loaded into view. The press gathered around a podium. Bursts of camera flashes lit up Detective Chief Superintendent Maya Khan’s face as she stepped up to address the assembled reporters.

  “Thank you all for coming. I would like to announce myself as the first female head of Scotland Yard.”

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  Gulag settled into the jacuzzi, feeling the vortex of jets tingling through his back. The woman’s hand reached below the water, seductively. “What fools! They have no idea they are spewing out the cover story that I alone orchestrated.”

  Khan spoke of honoring the victims, and she paid a touching tribute to the former head of Scotland Yard, Chief Inspector Sanderson. But Gulag knew the truth; Sanderson had come too close to exposing his nefarious plot. His hand absentmindedly caressed her golden hair as he watched the press conference. Some uninteresting veterinarian doctor was going on about horses or whatever. Suddenly, a loud knock on the door interrupted his reverie. Gulag’s eyes snapped to Royal Chief of Staff Robinson, who stood with a disapproving frown.

  “Have I not told you to stop frolicking with the personnel?”

  “Robinson. You worry too much. I’m just giving the staff a little morale boost.”

  “You have already pissed off all the crew with your open displays of extravagance.”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the finer things in life; you must enjoy the privileges of the royal household.”

  “I will remember that when I sleep on my hard bunk tonight. His Royal Highness arrives tomorrow for an inspection. Get your things together and stop playing battleships with one of my chief engineers.”

  With one last disapproving look at Gulag, Robinson turned and sauntered out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him. Gulag cozied up to his companion, took another sip of champagne, and puffed on a Cuban cigar. Gulag leaned in close, his mischievous flirting returning.

  “Ah, my dear, where were we? You were saying something about appreciating the finer things in life. As much as I appreciate your company. The sensual pleasures of the flesh call me even more.”

  “Gulag, you are evil.”

  “Maybe I am, my dear.”

  Gulag dipped her head between his thighs, going into full bubble mode in the hot tub.

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