The new Inspector’s car pulled up outside the apartment building. He lowered the window and lit a cigarette. He sat smoking, and checked his watch. It was 7:54 PM.

Another 6 minutes, and then he would go up.

The new Inspector had never had a relationship with anyone. He had never loved anyone. He wasn’t aware of love as something that could be experienced, or closeness or intimacy.

He had sexual urges which he suppressed and then released in a dangerous and violent fury. The outlet for most of his releases were street prostitutes. He would stop them and arrest them, and then drive them out of the city and rape them. They were junkies and worthless - he would tell himself. He killed one once. He had raped her and beat her and was driving her back into the city when she had attacked him. He had crashed his car fighting her off and then strangled her. He dumped her body by the side of the road and drove off. He reported his patrol car as damaged in the pursuit of a suspect with a false OR17 report and was given a new patrol car.

No one cared about a dead sex worker by the side of the road. The new Inspector didn’t care about killing a worthless junkie whore. He didn’t care about killing anyone.

Things were different now for him. He had feelings. He had developed feelings. The box where he tried to pack those feelings away was now open, and everything inside of them had climbed out and taken over him.

He loved Karla. He loved being with her and the duality of their relationship. He loved Karla’s overt femininity, her sexuality, and beauty - he desired it. He loved to be with her, naked. He loved her touching him and caressing him, and kissing him, and being tender and gentle with him. But he also loved being restrained by Karla, violated by Karla, dominated by Karla.

The new Inspector checked his watch again. It was 7:58 PM.

He flicked away his cigarette and wound up the window. He wasn’t wearing his gun, or silver tie bar. He had left his badge at home. Tonight he was a citizen. He had his party membership card. Now he was an Inspector, party membership was essential and you had to be a party member to go where he was going tonight.

Last week he had asked her. He had seen her at the Golden Leaf and said - ‘Have you changed your mind?’ She had asked about what, and he said - ‘About going out with me, for dinner.’

He had asked before, but she had said no. She had said she didn’t meet clients outside of work. He had said that he thought he had become more than a client. She said she would think about it.

She said she had changed her mind. She would go out with him for dinner. He was more than a client.

The new Inspector climbed out of the driver's side and closed the door. He crossed the street and walked to the front door of the apartment building. He opened the door and walked into the deserted foyer. It was a pretty standard prole apartment building. The foyer was run down, with flickering neon strip lights and an abandoned security desk.

The new Inspector walked to the elevator and pressed the up button. The elevator arrived and the doors opened. The elevator was filthy and smelled of urine. On the back wall of the elevator was scrawled in black letters - “FUCK THE PARTY”. Someone had added to the graffiti some additional words in white so the graffiti read - “I LIKE TO FUCK ON THE PARTY BUS”.

The new Inspector hit the button for the 6th floor. The elevator arrived at the 6th floor and the doors opened. The new Inspector walked along the corridor and came to apartment 6E.

The new Inspector rang the bell of the apartment.

The door opened, and Karla stood there. She looked fantastic. She was wearing a tight fitting short black dress that showed plenty of cleavage and her tattooed arms. She had simple diamond earrings, and was wearing black stiletto shoes. Her face was pale with rich red lips, and smoky eyes. Her dark black hair was tousled and framed her face to perfection.

‘Hello you’ - Karla said.

Karla stepped away from the door and back into the apartment, leaving the door open.

The new Inspector stood outside the apartment, unsure what to do. A few minutes passed and then Karla reappeared with her purse and wearing a coat.

‘So where are we going?’ - Karla asked, closing the apartment door. Karla leaned forward and kissed the new Inspector on the lips.

‘Do you like steak?’ - Asked the new Inspector.

‘Yes baby, I love steak’ - Karla looped her arm through his.

The new Inspector walked with Karla to the elevator. He pushed the down button and they waited. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

The elevator arrived and they stepped into the car and headed down to the foyer.

As they traveled down, Karla pressed herself against the new Inspector and kissed him again on the lips - forcing her tongue in his mouth. She then put her lips to his ear and whispered - ‘If you play your cards right tonight baby, maybe I’ll fuck you later.’

As the doors opened Karla stepped back, away from the new Inspector. Standing outside the elevator door in the foyer was a scruffy man with a large wet patch around his groin. He was wearing only one shoe, and had a ripped and torn gray sweatshirt with orange stains down the front. On his head he had a knitted hat that looked like a tea cozy. His face was haggard and grizzled, and he reeked of alcohol and piss and vomit.

‘Giz a fucken cupal shillun for a buttle a grug’ - the scruffy man said, swaying and then lurching forward into the elevator.

The new Inspector stepped forward and kicked the scruffy man on the chest. The scruffy man staggered backwards and then fell backwards and hit the floor.

Karla put her arm back through the new Inspector’s - and they crossed the foyer.

‘My knight in shining armor’ - Karla said, kissing the new Inspector’s neck.

They arrived outside the restaurant. It was called Le Bistro de la Glorieuse Victoire. It was a party members only restaurant for middle management. It was too shabby for the elite party members, but far nicer than anything any prole would experience in the People’s Republic. Proles ate at home, or cafeterias, or pubs, or beer halls - not restaurants or bistros.

The new Inspector opened the car door for Karla, and held her hand as she climbed from the car.

‘We’re eating here?’ - Karla said, looking amazed at the red painted facade of Le Bistro de la Glorieuse Victoire.

‘You don’t like it?’ - The new Inspector said, feeling confused.

‘I have never eaten at a restaurant like this before’ - said Karla.

The new Inspector had never eaten at a restaurant like this before either. His life had been made up of sandwiches, instant noodles, chips, and sausage rolls from food wagons.

Karla looped her arm through the new Inspector’s arm, and they walked to the front door of the restaurant. He held the door open for Karla, and they stepped inside to the maître d' stand.

A man with a groomed black mustache and groomed black hair that was parted in the middle stood behind the maître d' stand. He was wearing a tuxedo and looked immaculate.

‘Good evening sir and madam - welcome to Le Bistro de la Glorieuse Victoire. May I see your membership card?’ - The Maître d' said.

The new Inspector pulled out his wallet and handed his party membership card to the maître d'.

The maître d' studied the card and then checked his reservation book, and then he handed the card back.

‘Good evening Inspector - your table is ready. If sir and madam will follow me’ - the maître d' collected two menus from the stand and then walked into the restaurant.

Le Bistro de la Glorieuse Victoire was full this evening - and the tables were packed closely together. Le Bistro de la Glorieuse Victoire could have been set on the banks of the River Seine. A man was seated at a high chair in the corner playing French love songs on a piano accordion. The walls were all wood paneled. The lighting was low. The tables were covered in red and white checkered pattern tablecloths, each with a small white porcelain vase in the middle holding a single carnation. The room was filled with chatter and laughter and cigarette smoke. The middle management of the party and their companions were eating, drinking, and making merry.

The new Inspector had asked the Chief Inspector about a place to take a date - and the Chief had recommended Le Bistro de la Glorieuse Victoire. It was a nice place for a drink, some good steak, and no one would ask any questions about the company a party member is keeping - the Chief Inspector had said.

The maître d' arrived at an empty table and pulled the chair and table out. The other chair was a bench that ran along the whole side of the bistro.

‘Madam’ - said the maître d'.

Karla stepped into the gap where the table had been and sat on the bench. The maître d' pushed the table back into place and then positioned the chair for the new Inspector.

‘Inspector’ - the maître d' said.

The new Inspector sat in the chair, and the maître d' pushed the chair in behind the Inspector as he sat.

The maître d' picked up the napkin on the table and unfurled it in a single hand gesture and then reached over and laid it across Karla’s lap.

‘Thank you’ - said Karla, looking around the interior of Le Bistro de la Glorieuse Victoire in awe.

The maître d’ unfurled the other napkin in the same way, and laid it across the lap of the Inspector.

The maître d’ handed Karla a menu, and then handed the inspector his.

‘The waitress will be with you shortly to take your order - bon appetit’ - the maître d’ bowed his head and walked back to his stand.

‘You know when I said if you play your cards right tonight?’ - Karla said, smiling at the Inspector - ‘You are playing your cards right!’

The Inspector blushed a little, and smiled back.

A waitress appeared at the table and curtsied.

‘Good evening sir, madam’ - said the waitress - ‘Would you care for something to drink?’

‘Two large whiskeys on ice - with a splash of soda water’ - the Inspector said.

‘Yes sir’ - the waitress said, curtsying again.

The Inspector pulled out his cigarettes and offered the open pack to Karla. Karla took a cigarette and the Inspector lit it for her, and then lit his own cigarette.

Karla smoked her cigarette, and smirked at him.

‘So I am guessing you are some kind of big shot, Inspector?’ - Karla said.

The waitress returned with a silver tray with two glasses of whiskey placed on it. She placed one glass in front of Karla, and the other in front of the Inspector. The waitress left the table with a quick curtsy.

‘Bottoms up’ - said the Inspector holding his glass up.

Karla lifted her glass and clinked it against the Inspector’s glass - ‘Bottoms up.’

They both sipped their drinks.

‘You don’t say much do you?’ - Karla asked, smoking her cigarette.

‘Not much to say’ - said the Inspector, picking up his menu and reading it.

‘Do you have any family?’ - Karla asked.

The Inspector thought for a moment.

‘I am an orphan. My mum and dad died in a fire when I was a baby. I grew up in an orphanage’ - said the Inspector.

‘Was it terrible?’

‘No, I enjoyed it.’

Karla continued to stare at the Inspector - ‘What do you fancy?’

‘What?’ - said the Inspector, unsure what she meant.

‘What do you fancy - do you fancy the sausage?’ - Karla asked, she lifted her foot and rubbed it on the inside of the Inspector’s leg - “I bet you would love a nice, big long juicy sausage.’

The couple at the next table glanced over at Karla, and then carried on with their conversation.

The Inspector blushed a little again. Karla took another large gulp of her drink and picked up the menu.

There was little small talk. The Inspector was ill equipped to engage in conversation. He hadn’t had any personal relationships before - but here he was with the woman he loved.

The waitress returned to the table and curtsied.

‘Have sir and madam decided what they would like?’ - The waitress said.

Karla went first - ‘I will have the pan fried garlic shrimp to start, and then the rib eye steak. What is cafe de Paris sauce?’

‘Cafe de Paris sauce is a sauce made of fresh cream, butter, thyme, and Dijon mustard, madam’ - the waitress said.

‘I will have that as well’ - said Karla, handing the menu to the waitress.

‘And how would madame like her steak cooked?’ - The waitress asked.

‘Rare.’

‘The rib eye steak comes with frites and green beans, madam’ - said the waitress.

‘Perfect.’

‘And sir?’ - The waitress said turning to the Inspector.

‘I will have the same’ - he said..

‘And how would sir like his steak cooked?’

‘Well done, no blood’ - said the Inspector.

‘Frites and green beans?’

‘No beans.’

‘Yes sir’ - said the waitress.

‘And two more large whiskeys’ - the Inspector added.

‘Yes sir - and will you be having wine with your dinner sir?’ - Asked the waitress.

The Inspector looked at Karla and she giggled and mouthed, “Champagne”.

‘Yes, a bottle of champagne’ - said the Inspector.

‘Yes sir’ - the waitress curtsied and went off to place the order.

Karla and the inspector finished their large whiskeys, and two more large whiskeys turned up. And then the champagne and the pan fried garlic shrimp.

‘I have never had food like this’ - said Karla - ‘This is so delicious!’

The maître d’ walked by and refilled their glasses with more champagne.

They were enjoying themselves. They smoked cigarettes between courses and finished the bottle of champagne. They ordered another bottle, and the steaks arrived covered in the rich and delicious cafe de Paris sauce.

Karla was doing most of the talking, trying to get the Inspector to relax. The booze was helping.

Karla was laughing and smiling. The Inspector felt relaxed and happy.

The waitress arrived at the table and cleared the empty plates from the main course.

Karla and the Inspector were a bit drunk now.

‘Would sir and madam care for any dessert?- The waitress asked.

‘What would you recommend, sweetie?’ - Karla said, giggling.

‘The profiteroles are very popular madam’ - the waitress chipped in.

‘One plate of profiteroles - I don’t even know what profiteroles is - and two spoons’ - said Karla, giggling more.

‘And two brandies - large ones’ - said the Inspector, lighting another cigarette.

‘Yes sir’ - said the waitress, curtsying and walking off.

‘We better slow down baby, if you want me to be able to get it up’ - Karla laughed.

The couple at the next table glanced over at Karla again, and then carried on with their conversation.

The waitress returned with two large brandies, and Karla and the Inspector cheered again.

Karla had slipped her shoe off under the table and had lifted it up between the Inspector’s thighs. She was rubbing his groin. The Inspector smiled.

The waitress returned with a silver tray and a plate piled high with profiteroles. The delicate choux pastry was filled with soft vanilla ice cream, and topped with a rich chocolate sauce and sliced almonds.

The waitress paced the plate in the middle of the table, and placed a spoon on either side. The waitress curtsied and then left.

Karla picked up a spoon and scooped up a profiterole. She held the spoon out and fed a profiterole to the Inspector. She then placed another profiterole on the spoon and ate a profiterole herself.

‘My fucking god that is delicious - do you eat like this all the time?’

‘No’ - said the Inspector, Karla’s foot rubbing his erect penis.

‘I bet you fucking do.’

‘Only on special occasions’ - said the Inspector, lighting another cigarette and gulping back his brandy.

Karla ate the rest of the profiteroles, and then picked up her brandy and finished it in one gulp - ‘Pay the fucking bill, and then come back to mine and let me fuck you!’

The couple at the next table glanced over again at Karla, and then at the Inspector.

‘Oi!’ - The Inspector shouted at the waitress - ‘The bill, now!’

‘Yes sir’ - said the waitress, curtsying.

The waitress brought the bill over and the Inspector pulled out his wallet and put a stack of shillings on the table.

The maître d’ came over - ‘And how was your dinner tonight Inspector?’

‘It was lovely - thank you’ - said the Inspector, lighting another cigarette and finishing his brandy.

‘And madam?’ - The maître d’ turned to Karla.

‘Fucking lovely’ - said Karla.

‘Excellent - we look forward to seeing you both again’ - said the maître d’

The Inspector went to stand, but fell back down again. He steadied himself and the maître d’ helped him up. The maître d’ pulled the chair away, and then slid the table out so that Karla could stand and leave.

Karla threaded her arm through the Inspector’s arm, and they swayed their way out of Le Bistro de la Glorieuse Victoire together.

The Inspector staggered to the car, and opened the door for Karla.

Karla went to step into the passenger seat, and then paused and kissed the Inspector on the lips before falling into the car. The Inspector closed the door, and then swayed and staggered to the driver’s side.

He climbed into the car, closed the door and then started the engine. The car pulled away, and then accelerated before pulling a wild u-turn in the middle of the street and zooming off at high speed towards Karla’s apartment building.