At first everyone thought it couldn’t get any better. Lord Summer had charm. When his victims had gained faith, he slowly began to play his power games. He couldn’t care less about the matter at hand. He was all about control, power and manipulation. And he did it just for fun. He felt terrific at the expense of others. The worse his victims felt about him, the better he felt about himself.
He would never change, because first of all he himself was the victim and his victims himself to blame (and didn’t deserve it any other way), secondly he felt great – why should he change? Everything was right after all!
“Good afternoon, Lord Sommer. Sctland Yard. May I come in?”
“I’m not his Lordship, just the butler”
“May I come in anyway?”
Sherlock was shown into the lobby. Lord Summer walked up to Sherlock, radiant and with irresistible charm. He was wearing a dressing gown that he had just tied.
“I’ve just heard the neighbour has disappeared.”
“Yes. Do you know where he might be?”
“How were you getting on?”
“He was a funny guy. But aren’t we all? Except me, of course.”
A beauty with big boobs, disheveled hair and also in a dressing gown came along.
“Lord, where are you?”
“Please be quiet now.”
“Don’t you love me anymore?”
“You are a tormentor.”
Lord Summer turned to Sherlock.
“You’d better go now. I need to rest for a bit.”
Sherlock was interesting. He was apparently ambitious and was popular with the women. Lord Sommer also knew Sir Baskerville. He was mad but not unhappy. The fact that he and Sherlock felt bad together and about him was irresistible. As long as they trusted him.
To be continued…