Some of us write about sex." Sex?" Albert wondered, carefully steering his jeep to avoid the carcass of a dog sprawled out across the road. "How can y...u find anything to write about that?" Well, it's not as easy as you'd think," Hannah remarked. This, of course, was contrary to Albert's own opinions. Surely sex was something very private. Not something that one ever wrote poetry about. "After a while you run out of fresh words to rhyme with 'fuck'. You know, there are the obvious words like. Moving into our suite was a hassle. Not only were there about agazillion other students trying to move into their suites, but theelevator was broken so we had to haul everything up two flights ofstairs and some of the furniture was pretty heavy and bulky so thestairwells kinda resembled rush hour traffic on a freeway. And theoutside temperature was in the 80's which meant the inside temperaturewas in the 90's because of the crappy air conditioning in the buildingso I'm sweating like a pig. And. “Why should you be nervous? I'm a bit lost as to why you had to see me, but please do come in and put those things down. Would you like a coffee or tea perhaps?” (Harriet was still a polite lady)Claire declined tea or coffee, sat on the couch and deposited Harriet's things beside her. She was a little nervous because if Harriet was at all that way inclined she could get Claire into a lot of trouble at work.Harriet sat opposite in an armchair and said “Now why did you just have to see me? Now. ‘Who’s your suspect?’ ‘One Mr. Fred Johnston. Checked in using a bag of cash. Literally. Paid a week in advance, enough to buy a couple of economy cars then spread the cash around hiring a string quartet one night and a French chef. His first day he hired the services of a tailor. Turns out the tailor was a female. But stranger still, the tailor, or seamstress, or whatever she’d be, was seen over the next three days, parading around stark naked here in the suit. The bellboys started fighting.