Whipped: An Arthur Beauchamp Novel(54)



I am already on a chatting relationship with the three-time visitor, one Harvey Plouffe, and we have arranged to have coffee. I am hoping my facade as a devotee of BDSM will not be the cause of any personal awkwardness.

I extend my continuing good wishes to you and yours. I am available for your comments and further instructions by mail at the postal box number on the envelope.

Yours sincerely,

Francisco





THE CLIPPINGS FILE

Toronto Star, Monday, July 8

an exclusive by Jack Feigel

MONTREAL — “Weekends with a Russian dominatrix. Svetlana something.”

So spoke Green Party leader Margaret Blake on the infamous Freak Out recording that has given rise to Emil Farquist’s $50 million slander suit against her.

Who is this alleged dominatrix with the Russian name? Well, it turns out there’s a woman who might fit the bill: Svetlana Glinka, who has apparently been operating an S&M “therapy clinic” on Rue de la Visitation in Montreal’s old section, east of downtown.

But she seems to have disappeared.

Her address, and her alleged business as a dominatrix, was called in to the Star anonymously, by a man who claimed to have received “her services.”

Svetlana Glinka seems not to have been shy or reclusive — if she was hiding she was hiding in plain view, openly entertaining a male clientele at her ground-floor triplex.

Neighbours whom I interviewed yesterday described her as tall, shapely, blonde and blue-eyed, and friendly and engaging. Most assumed she was a high-priced prostitute, though she apparently called her business a “therapy clinic.”

It was also her home, and she lived there for about three years, according to long-time area resident Fran?ois Godeau, who added that she drove a blue Miata sports car and usually spent weekends away.

She has not been seen for the last month. No one answered my knock. Curtains were drawn across her windows, back and front. Several flyers were on her front stoop, the oldest dated one was from June 9.

According to Montreal police, there has been no report of a missing person by her name, nor is her apparent disappearance being investigated.

The landlord of this triplex is a limited company owned by R.J. Rubinstein, a lawyer, who declined to speak on record, asserting that his tenants were entitled to privacy.

Spokespersons for Blake and Farquist have also declined comment.

§

Ottawa Sun, Tuesday, July 9

an exclusive by Christie Montieth

MONTREAL — Now it can be told. This is the story of how I recorded the startling and spicy accusations by Margaret Blake, which have now been heard around the world.

The date of her outburst: Sunday, June 2. The scene: the World Wildlife Fund international conference at Montreal’s Palais des congrès. The cast: Blake, her aide, Pierette Litvak, and Jennie Withers, MP, the rising star of her ragtag little party.

Just after lunch on the conference’s final day, the cast gathered in a salon prior to selling their wares to an audience of eager buyers — eco-activists all.

Once Blake was seated at the podium table, Litvak joined her. The conversation that took place between them hardly needs repeating, but for anyone who’s been lost in the jungle or the Arctic for the last ten days, it’s reproduced verbatim in the sidebar.

Blake and Litvak were unaware they were talking into a hot mike. So was everyone else, even the simultaneous translators in their booth.

For no particular reason, I had my headphones on while texting on my iPhone. When I heard Blake exlaim “Wow,” I set my phone to record and placed it under my right earpiece. I listened, thunderstruck.

Sadly, Withers soon spoiled the fun, with her “Hey, you guys, be careful.” She switched the mike off.

Blake had been looking frazzled to start with, but as I hurried from the room to call my editor, I glanced back, and she was visibly distressed. After I returned she continued to seem distracted and fidgety for the presentation and basically let Withers and her other two MPs do the heavy lifting.

Now let me state an irrefutable fact: I did not leak this recording. I am not the BDsmother who put it all online in a series of tweets. I don’t know who BDsmother is. No such person is on the news staff at Postmedia. All of us were sworn to silence.

Why have we held back on this scoop? Well, some on our editorial board expressed the concern that Blake’s remarks might be an utterly tasteless jest, and the decision was made to hold the story while I investigated further. My assignment was to prove that this Svetlana existed.

And I did. I found a positive review of her services in a B&D forum. The reviewer, pen name ToyBoy, generously awarded four and a half stars to Svetlana Glinka. “Pricey but so delicious!” he gushed, obligingly providing a link to a Google map with Glinka’s street number on Rue de la Visitation, south of Sherbrooke.

I made several visits there during the first week of June, futilely knocking on her door. I tried again two days ago, a last-gasp effort before we went to press with this exclusive story.

It appears that she has fled, escaping for now a terabyte-sized slander suit. (Perhaps Margaret Blake is wishing she’d joined her.)

Neighbours described the woman as almost Amazonian — tall, blonde, and well endowed, fluent in both official languages as well as Russian. No photographs of her have come to light.

According to a pair of old-timers who live next door, she regularly entertained male visitors, except on weekends. Many of them arrived at day’s end, attired in business suits. They would usually arrive by taxi, though occasionally on foot.

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