Chapter Thirty-One

“You look very sad this evening, Richard, is there anything I can do for you,” asked Fiona, but Richard could only shake his head. His efforts to try to trace another of his school friends had proved to be abortive. “I think you must still be grieving for Maya, but surely you must have come to terms with your loss after all this time. You cannot go on through your life grieving forever. Please let me help you,” she went on, but Richard would only shake his head and play a solemn tune on the violin. The music seemed to portray his mood as far as Fiona was concerned as she tried in several ways to bring him out of himself.

“Is there anything I can do for you, that mother did... I don’t mean anything very personal, you understand, but well... perhaps if you play me some of the music that you played to her... or something like that... Might that help, do you think?”

Richard stopped playing his violin and looked into Fiona’s eyes.

“If there was something you could do for me in that way, I would be even sadder than I am now,” he said. “I had a relationship with your mother... with Maya that I will never ever have again. Please understand.”

Fiona was rather annoyed at his response. She knew she could never replace Maya in Richard’s estimation and in one way she was consoled to think that she was not alone in that feeling since he told her that no-one would ever take Maya’s place... nevertheless her annoyance persisted as she turned on him with quite a sarcastic and stupid remark.

“No-one will ever call you Bollocky-Boy, again, I suppose,” she snapped and Richard put his violin down gently on the settee where he was sitting.

“No, I don’t suppose anyone else ever will,” he said, “Although Maya always regarded my testicles as my best feature. Did you know that?” he replied in equal sarcastic mood. Fiona blushed, but she couldn’t control her laughter.

“Don’t you have any shame, Richard Bright?” she asked and it was his turn to laugh.

“It wasn’t all one sided,” he said, “I used to call Maya names too... and she liked it.”

“Did she now... well what makes me think she wouldn’t, I wonder?”

“Yes I called her dimple-bum and rose-tit,” said Richard and Fiona laughed and blushed all the more.

“Dimple-bum... well, I suppose I could understand that... at a push... but rose-tit... no, I don’t get that one. Was it because her breasts were rosy?” she asked and Richard smiled.

“Well, no it wasn’t because of that although her breasts were rosy. No, It all started when one Valentine’s day, I stuffed her bra with white rose petals... She liked that.”

Fiona looked to the ceiling when Richard said that. She didn’t know whether to laugh because his remark was so stupidly funny or to cry because she thought it was totally romantic.

“I think you were both a couple of clowns in your antics together. That’s what I think,” Fiona replied, “and Maya was worse than you because at her age she should have known better,” she added and strolled off into the kitchen to prepare supper, but Richard followed her as she went.

“Haven’t you ever talked like that to anyone, Fiona?” he asked and she told him to mind his own business. “But I’m serious,” he went on. “It’s a beautiful language when you’re in love,” he added, but Fiona could never imagine anyone stuffing her bra with rose petals nor checking to see if she had dimples on her bum.

“I don’t think along those lines,” she said abruptly, hoping he would change the subject, but Richard was persistent.

“What would you say was my best feature, Fiona?” he asked, with a sly grin on his face and she was taken by surprise at his question. It was something she hadn’t thought about... or had she. She thought for a few moments and turned to face him

“I think... I think you have nice eyes,” she said and he smiled.

“But you don’t think I’m a Bollocky-Boy, do you?”

Fiona spun round to face the wall, away from his gaze and her expression changed in an instant when Richard said that to her.

“What a thing to ask me. How on earth would I ever be able to answer that?” she demanded and Richard laughed.

“Would you like to see them?” he whispered, as he leaned over her shoulder and Fiona’s eyes popped out of her head.

“No I wouldn’t... I don’t go in for such luxuries,” she explained and Richard laughed again.

“Not even just a little peep?” he asked and she blushed all the more.

“No... Not even that,” she said, “I think we should have supper now or it’ll get cold.”

Richard strolled back into the lounge and started to play his violin again with the ‘Romance’ by Dvorak, but he had plans for later on that evening when he had a few telephone calls to make.

***

“Good evening. I would like to speak to Joseph Barras please.”

“Yes... Who’s speaking please?”

Richard held his breath for a few moments when the female on the other end of the line asked him that question. He took a deep breath, which always helped when he was afraid he might stutter, but a wicked thought came to his mind before he spoke again.

“My name is Thompson... Eric Thompson,” he said with a grin on his face as he waited to hear what Mr. Abbot would make of that.

“Hi there,” came the response. “Can I help you? I’m Joseph Barras.”

“Good evening Mr. Barras. You don’t know me but I understand you know my wife, Mrs. Maya Thompson?”

There was a long silence before Joseph Barras spoke again.

“We have met a few times, Mr. Thompson,” said Barras in a low voice... “What can I do for you?”

Richard noted, how particularly Barras had lowered the tone of his voice and he gathered he didn’t want anyone else at his residence to know who he was speaking to and certainly not what he was speaking about.

“I think we should meet, Mr. Barras... or may I call you Joseph?”

Again there was silence.

“Yes... yes that might be possible,” said the voice again, followed by an even quieter response “but you realize I have to be very discreet. I have a wife to think of. You understand that, don’t you Mr. Thompson?”

“Certainly and I respect your discretion. I have to be likewise, you understand that too, don’t you Mr. Barras... Joseph?”

Richard met Joseph Barras outside the Hare and Hound public House in Carlos Street the following evening at nine o’clock.

“I don’t know what to say, Mr. Thompson. It is obvious you must know about my relationship with your wife, but honestly, I didn’t think she was married.”

Richard raised his eyebrows.

“You are married too Mr. Barras... Does that make such a difference? I wouldn’t have thought so. After all we are both men of the world and we know when the urge comes along, there is little we can do to control it... especially if there is some outlet for these urges just waiting to be had.”

Joseph Barras was stunned at the understanding of his companion as he smiled and put his hand out to shake Richard’s.

“She’s a wonderful woman, your wife, Mr. Thompson and I think you are a very exceptional and understanding husband. Thank you.” said Joseph Barras as Richard took a step nearer and fumbled around in his pocket for a second.

“No... thank you,” he said and the smile slowly went from Joseph Barras’s face as he fell to the ground.

***

Two policemen strolled past Richard about ten minutes after he had done the deed,but neither of them took any notice of him as they passed and Richard smiled softly to himself.

Typical... he thought... when you want one, you can never find one and when you don’t, two come along at once... Hope they don’t notice anything strange until I get home... but at that moment a crowd of schoolgirls came around the corner, laughing their heads off and Richard scowled as he touched his Michael knife in anger.

***

It was stale news for Richard when he heard the following morning on the T.V. that the serial killer had struck again, with the same pattern as he had used before... always with a sharp instrument to the jugular and there were no witnesses. It seemed that the police were baffled and Richard was delighted.