*
Richard hurried home along the black wet streets, haunted by the vision that Philip was in danger. Once indoors, he quickly opened a bottle of wine and poured himself a large glassful, aware that Susan would home very soon. He was draining his glass when she arrived, he hurried to meet her in the hallway and helped her off with her coat, realising in the back of his mind that he was a bit drunk. She sniffed his breath,
“You've been to the pub!” He coaxed her into the kitchen, sat her down and presented her with a glass of wine and the biscuit jar.
“We need to talk.” He announced after clumsily slamming the fridge door and dropping the block of cheese.
“You see there's this woman…”
After a very bad start he eventually managed to tell Susan the whole story. The wine bottle was empty by the time the tale was finished and Susan's many questions answered. She'd become thoughtful,
“I'm worried about Phil. Do you think he really could be in danger? Shouldn't we warn him?” They decided to sleep on it.
Richard awoke at seven the next morning with a hangover. He left Susan in bed while he fortified himself with coffee and paracetamol before staggering off to work. The cold morning sunlight hurt his eyes but the walk refreshed him a little. Passing the bookshop he saw a hand written sign taped to the glass door,
“Closed owing to bereavement” with a cold shudder he hurried on around the corner and saw Phil stepping out of his car.
“Hey Phil!” He was delighted to see him, they went into the office together and Phil switched on the coffee machine,
“You look a bit worse for wear this morning...” Phil commented dryly, “…Did you and Sue go out last night?” Richard was careful with his reply,
“It's a bit of a long story, and I’ll tell you later. Oh, by the way, Cyndy needs the address of your client so that she can send the invoice.” He had tried to sound nonchalant with the request but could tell immediately that Phil had gone on the defensive,
“No need. She's paying cash and values her privacy.” Richard couldn't believe it,
“What about the VAT?” Phil was dismissive,
“Oh don't worry, I'll sort it out, I'll lose it somewhere.” It was obvious that Phil wasn't going to give out her address and he ended their brief conversation abruptly before going to the printing room. Richard waited alone in reception, staring at Phil's jacket hanging neatly in its usual place. For the first time in is life he went through someone else's pockets, inside Phil's wallet he found an address on a slip of paper, 22 Old Bridge Lane, Hammersmith,
“Hi Richard!” Cyndy clattered in dropping her handbag and umbrella on the desk and immediately turning towards the mirror.
“Morning Cyn.” He muttered as cheerfully as he could manage while he dropped Phil's wallet back inside his jacket unnoticed.
Eve, London
Eve's bouts of self-loathing came and went. Whatever chemicals stirred her brain to such atrocious acts of violence also kept her mood balanced. But occasionally she fell off-balance, and suicidally depressed, “It's all pointless, everything...” She wandered the streets of central London, “...And everybody.” Eventually sitting in one of the little garden squares between the bustling streets. She sat, cold, face down, alone, until dusk.
A pair of black workboots stopped in front of her, a voice,
“You alright love?...” The voice continued, “... Only I'm locking up soon, right?...” A rattle of keys, “...The gardens is closed for the night...” Another rattle, “...Can you hear me? Are you alright?”
Eve rose without a word and walked stiffly from the garden, the caretaker nodding, and muttering under his breath,
“Fucking nutter.”
Richard & Susan
Susan phoned Richard at the office to say that she was coming in to see him, she had been brooding over last nights revelations and decided that they had best talk to Walther as soon as possible. She arrived late morning; Richard heard her chatting briefly with Cyndy before she joined him in his office.
“Hi ya...” She called out cheerfully, “…I’ve got something for you.” From her handbag she pulled out a charm of some kind on a woven necklace, “…It’s for luck. It was my mother’s and you have to wear it.” She knew he wouldn’t be too impressed, he had no time for mumbo-jumbo stuff, but he was actually far more pleased than she thought. She had told him so little about her mother and father, except that they were dead, and he was pleased that she wanted to give him something so personal.
They left shortly afterwards, telling Cyndy that they were going for some lunch together. The bookshop was still closed and so they had to knock and wait. Susan peered through the dusty windows; the dimly lit interior with its rows and rows of well-worn books filled her with a sudden and unwelcome memory. She pictured her father's study and remembered when, as a child, she would sneak in when he wasn't there and explore his fantastic collection of artefacts. Books, of course, lined the walls, mechanical toys and puzzles lay on the lower shelving, and a free-standing globe beckoned by the window overlooking the garden. Often she would fall asleep under his desk, surrounded by her cache of collected objects, later to be gently roused with a smiling reprove.
She shook her head to clear it of emotional baggage.
“Here he comes.” She watched Walther appear out of the gloom, looking very much as Richard had described, except perhaps even taller and thinner. He unlocked the door and beckoned them in,
“Thank you for coming, would you follow me through please?” He locked the door behind them and led them to the little room at the back.
“This is my wife; Susan.” Walther offered his hand in a polite shake. Seeming ill at ease, he turned to Richard,
“Have you told your wife any of the matters we discussed last evening?”
“Everything.” Walther gritted his teeth in frustration and annoyance, turned away for a moment, then whirled on Richard,
“You are a fool! Do you not see the danger of this situation? You have no right to involve other people!” Richard never liked to be shouted at, but before he retorted Susan jumped in,
“If my husband's in danger then I want to know about it! That's my right, and I'm going to be beside him all the way. So stop talking across me as if I'm not here and start talking about what we're supposed to do. Together!” Walther broke the ensuing silence with icy graciousness,
“Please accept my apologies for my outburst. I am a little, um, distracted, at the moment. I have to see to certain arrangements.” He was evidently annoyed but at the same time seemed quietly desperate,
“Richard, do you have the address that you promised?” Richard handed over a slip of paper before Susan could stop him; she guessed what Walther would say next,
“Thank you. What there is to be done is for me to do alone. I will trouble you no further. Please leave now, I have much business to attend.” His tone was coldly dismissive. Susan wasn't about to be fobbed off and reared up,
“Oh no you don't! We've got a friend in trouble and we're-” Richard grabbed her lightly on the arm,
“Hold on Sue...” He faced Walther down, “...The police, I'm sure they would be interested in the whereabouts of the so-called Cat the Ripper, don't you think?” He had Walther by the balls and he knew it. Susan grinned; her own wicked lop-sided ‘Gotcha’ grin,
“Well?” She demanded. Walther sat down wearily behind the desk;
“You must not be so irresponsible. I beg of you. Please consider this. The police, if they are able to arrest her, a matter that I seriously doubt, will not have sufficient evidence for a trial. She will go to ground again, flee the country no doubt. And you…” He pointed his long forefinger at each of them in turn, “…Will be responsible for the suffering and death of Lord knows how many more innocent victims. Will your conscience bear such a weighty burden?”
It was touché moment. In the silence that followed, Susan sat down, a purposeful look on her face, and motioned for Ric
hard to also take a seat,
“We are already involved.” She murmured. Walther seized on her remark instantly,
“Ridiculous, how can you be? In what way? You know next to nothing of-” She stared steadily into his eyes forcing him to break off, and then dropped her bombshell,
“I think she murdered my parents.”