#4 Poolside Patter

A stream of bubbles exploded from Drake’s mouth, in a growl of annoyance at his blunder, although underwater, it was more of a bemused gurgle. Kicking off with his powerful legs, he swam upwards until he breached the surface of the pool. Regaining his composure, he paddled over to the woman, who was now climbing up the steps. Drake tried his best not to stare at her shapely,

swim-suit clad figure as she addressed him.
“Drake Mandible, I presume?”

He couldn't really pick the accent either. Polish maybe, or perhaps Swiss? He clambered up the ladder after her.
“Yes, the one and only, Ms…”

She ignored his offered hand.
“Mr Mandible, let me get straight to the point. I am here on behalf of the Silent Killers United League based in Liechtenstein and Scandinavia, or S.K.U.L.L.S. for short. We also specialize in espionage, in Berlin.”
Scandinavia! THAT’S where she was from.

“We have heard of your proficiency as a marksman and we wish to employ you, effective immediately.”

Drake shook his head.
“I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline, for a number of reasons,” he replied. “Firstly, because I'm morally and ethically opposed to everything that people of your profession stand for. No offence. Secondly, I find your acronym shoddy. It should be S.K.E.U.L.B.L.S.
Finally: because I know from first-hand experience that international assassin organisations have absolutely no dental coverage.”
“Oh, that is a shame,” said the woman, with a hint of disappointment in her voice. “You could have been one of our best operatives.”
She turned, bent down and from underneath her towel, produced a small, pearl-handled revolver.
Drake’s face fell.
“Oh…”

#5: Short Scuffle.

“Ah, the old snub-nosed Colt Cora,” Drake observed nonchalantly.
“Nickel plated, fires six .38 rounds and commonly carried by private investigators in old Noir mystery films.”
“Is that supposed to impress me, Mr Mandible?”

He shrugged.
“Did it work?”

She chuckled and shifted her aim from his chest, to his head.
“Hmm, guess not then. Well when
a man has a gun pointed to his face, you can’t blame him for trying. I’ll just have to disarm you some other way.”
“How?” she smirked, “By kissing me?”
“Not quite.”

He twisted aside suddenly, grabbing her arm and pushing it into the air just as she squeezed the trigger. He intercepted her other hand as she tried to strike him, and using an old Judo technique- threw her over his hip, back into the pool. Drake scooped up the gun and pointed it at her.

“If you would be so kind as to get out with your hands up and go sit over by the gate, I would be very much obliged.”

She complied, and keeping the gun trained on his would-be assassin, Drake went around to the other side of the fence.

“Hands behind your back, if you please,” he said, then tied her arms to the fence with the towel.
“I’ll be back shortly,” he said pleasantly. He indicated to the gun. “I’ll be looking after this as well.”

Waving goodbye, he strolled back towards the mansion, whistling merrily as he went.

# 6 Deaf Dogsbody

Drake searched through the various rooms of his residence, looking for Nickelby. He finally found his butler back in the kitchen.

“I trust your meeting went well, Master Drake?”
“Didn’t you hear the racket?”
“I’m afraid not sir,” replied Nickelby, sheepishly. “I was cleaning in th
e panic room sir, which as you know, is completely soundproof.”

“Well, never-mind. She offered me a job as a professional killer and when I refused, she tried to kill me. Rather unprofessionally, I might add.”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” Nickelby said apologetically. “It’s a dashed shame really, she seemed ever so nice.”
“Don’t worry about it. I managed to subdue her.”
“Oh, shall I contact the authorities, sir?”
“No, I’ll do it, Nickelby,” said Drake.

He flicked open the cylinder of the revolver and emptied the remaining bullets into a handkerchief.
“Take these down to the lab. I’ll have a look at them later.”
“Of course, sir,” replied Nickelby.

The butler left, while Drake went to the telephone and called the police. After recounting the morning’s events, he went back to the pool to check on his prisoner.
She was gone.

“Drat!”