Of Night and Dark Obscurity

by Nicola Italia

  “Thank you, Mr. Eastoft. You’ve been most helpful. If you should hear from Mr. Bowler please let us know,” Val said as they left.

  “I will,” he assured them.

  ✽✽✽

  Val and Felix traveled to Lyle Bowler’s home address only to be told by the landlady that she had not seen him recently and that he left her high and dry owing back rent.

  “He owes me two weeks rent, too,” she said indignantly her large bosom spilling over the scooped neckline.

  “We can settle the amount owing,” Val said, “provided we can view the room.”

  She shrugged. “You’re police ain’t you? How can I stop you?”

  She took the bills in hand and showed them the room. It was a small room with a bed, drawers and a bedside table. It looked as if he had cleared out in a hurry. There didn’t appear to be anything left behind that could help them and Val felt intensely annoyed and irritated. A dead end.

  “What now?” Felix asked as he picked his way across the room littered with food and scraps.

  Val looked about the sparsely furnished room and then focused on the set of dresser drawers. He removed each drawer and turned it upside down. Nothing. Finally, as he came to the last drawer, he pulled it out and saw something hidden inside the drawers on the floor.

  “Hold this,” he said, handing the drawer to Felix.

  He reached into the cavern and pulled out a piece of paper. On it was a beautifully drawn figure of a woman in pencil. She was naked, reclining, but the face was unmistakably Irene’s. He showed it to Felix who whistled lowly.

  “Look at the bottom right corner,” Val directed his sergeant to the picture.

  Felix took the paper and nodded. “L. Bowler,” he read aloud.

  “He was here,” Val nodded. “He knew Irene Derry and he was pretending to be Simon Eastoft to get what he wanted. All of that I had already guessed, but there still remains two questions.”

  “Which are?” Felix wondered.

  “Where is he now and is he the killer?”

  “Do you think he’s our killer?”

  Val tucked the drawing inside his coat pocket. “Well he’s a liar and a pretender. He’s skipped out on his rent and now he’s running. I don’t think much of him. But a killer? That’s a big stretch.”

  “And I thought it was agreed that she was a victim of the primrose strangler. Isn’t she, Guvnor?”

  Val shook his head. “We have lots of facts before us but nothing for sure is known about the killer. Is Irene another victim, the fourth that we know of? Is she a lone victim of one man who killed her for a crime of passion, and made it look like he was the strangler as you suggested earlier?”

  Felix shrugged. “I think Irene is the most difficult victim of all the four victims.”

  “How so?”

  “She’s too complicated. The other women were straightforward. Decent women caught in the wrong moment.”

  “No,” Val disagreed. “Something ties them together we just don’t know what. Once we find that and how Irene does or does not tie in, things will become clearer.”

  ✽✽✽

  Stella and Caroline worked hard to find the families that would be the first to enter the Housing project. True to his word, Peter Davies contributed money and found the men to do the renovations, and Victoria Lyttleton oversaw the furnishings and decorations that would be used in each flat.

  Though Lady Lyttleton was a society matron and more concerned with expensive frocks and jewels to wear at the latest ball, she also liked to be thought of as innovative and supportive of young artists in the London area.

  In that same vein, she liked and admired Caroline and wanted to support her housing project. She had known Caroline her entire life as her father was the family’s doctor. He had been at the birth of Rachel and her respect had been transferred to his daughter, Caroline. She had watched Caroline grow into a lovely and intelligent woman and she had been pleased to see her use her intelligence to better the world around her.

  ✽✽✽

  Caroline pulled on her crepe black gown and the maid gingerly buttoned up the back of it. It fit her very well and showed off her slim waist, but the black was very stark and did nothing for her pale complexion. She wore the jet-black earrings and necklace with carved roses and remembered her father saying they had belonged to her mother before she died.

  She sat at the edge of the bed. She barely remembered her mother, Thirza. She had been a quiet woman whom everyone seemed to like. As Caroline grew older, she suspected everyone liked her mother because she never spoke her mind, or spoke at all, so what was there not to like.

  Thirza had met Hubert at a country dance and it had been a love match, at least her father had always said so. He had been drawn to the quiet Thirza and had asked for her hand two weeks after meeting her.

  He had taken her to London and the country rose had withered in the heavy London air. Thirza had not liked London at all and once Caroline was born, she had withdrawn into her own world even further. When Irene was born, Caroline suspected she willed herself to die.

  There was a large portrait painting of Thirza in her father’s study. Caroline had often viewed it as a child. She had always felt her mother had sad eyes and a wistful look on her face, and even as a child Caroline had wanted to make the picture smile.

  She uncovered her bedroom mirror, if only to stare at herself for a moment to make sure she looked presentable, and then recovered it with the black cloth. Everything was black, Caroline mused as she left her room. The black crepe draped across the front door and hung on the doorknob to alert visitors that this was a house in mourning. Oftentimes white crepe was used when a child passed but Malvina had forbidden the white.

  She was glad that her father had not said no to the concert this evening even though the family was in mourning. A concert was allowed and her grandmother was attending with her.

  She heard voices in the parlor and joined them. Inspector Pierce had a drink in his hand and her father was speaking to him, but both turned at the sound of her approach.

  “Dearest Caro,” her father said fondly. “I’ll see what’s keeping your grandmother,” he said leaving them alone.

  “You look lovely,” Val said studying her face.

  “I don’t. I look like a witch, some sad tale they tell children to frighten them,” she smiled.

  Val shook his head. “You look pale against the black but it accentuates your paleness. The delicateness of your face…“ he stumbled awkwardly over his words.

  Malvina joined them looking imposing in a black gown with heavy beading and ribbons. She smiled at the couple.

  “Are we ready?”

  Caroline nodded and Val escorted them to the carriage.

  The Chopin concert was heavily attended and when they took their seats in a small box high above the stage, Malvina looked pleased.

  “Excellent seats, Inspector,” she complimented.

  “I don’t mind spending my coin when it’s important,” he told her.

  He looked across at Caroline seated at the railing and took a seat next to her.

  “Do you like Chopin?” He asked quietly.

  “Very much.”

  “You attend many concerts?”

  “My father enjoys music. Irene did as well,” she said the last words in a whisper.

  The gas lights were lowered as the orchestra began playing the first piece. Caroline’s eyes were wide as she smiled at him.

  It was difficult for Val to keep his attention focused on the orchestra. He was aware of Caroline so close to him he could touch her, and the scent of jasmine teased his nose. He looked to the other side of him and saw that Malvina was already drifting off.

  When the nocturne began, he watched as Caroline sighed with pleasure, and he watched her face as she took in the orchestra. During the nocturne, she dropped her program at her feet and when he picked it up to return it to her, their fingers touched.

  I’m behaving like a love sick s
chool boy, he chastised himself.

  At the intermission, Malvina opted to remain in her seat while Val and Caroline went to the foyer to walk about before the next portion of the concert began.

  “Thank you, Miss Derry. For changing your mind.” He told her.

  “I’m glad I did. We can’t help how we met. Can we? I realize that.”

  “No. We can’t.”

  “Caro!” A voice called out her name and Charles Lyttleton was standing before them taking her hand in his again. “Well, this was meant to be.”

  Caroline pulled her hand back after he kissed it. “You remember Inspector Pierce?” She said.

  “Indeed. How is your brother?” Charles asked.

  “Well.” Val nodded.

  “We must get together soon,” Charles told her as he walked in the opposite direction.

  “He’s like a bad penny,” she said lowly. “He keeps turning up.”

  Val was surprised at the comment. “I’m sure most women would find him appealing.”

  She shook her head. “He’s too sure of himself. It’s off putting. Women like a different sort of man.”

  “What sort of man?” He asked before he could stop himself.

  “A man who’s sure of himself because he has knowledge and dignity. A man who is elegant who can get things done.”

  Val smiled. “That sounds like quite a man. I don’t think you’ll find many who fit that description.”

  The call to return to their seats came and they made their way to their box.

  Malvina was seated to the right so Val took the middle seat at the railing and Caroline the far left.

  “I think you’re wrong,” she whispered as the concert began. “You are such a man.”

  Val’s eyes must have registered shock because she quickly said, “It’s true.”

  Val spent the rest of the concert in a state of awareness. He was aware of the concert and each of the instruments when they played. The piano and the keys that were struck. The man in the next booth who coughed periodically and the warmth of the gas lights on the stage.

  But more than anything he was aware of the woman next to him. Her hands were folded primly in her lap as she watched the concert below on the stage. Though she was oblivious to him, he was completely focused on her. He didn’t openly stare at her; he didn’t want her to think him odd. But he snatched glances at her every so often and noticed the even breathing, her lips open when she admired a piece that was played, and a curl come undone from her hair dressing.

  He looked away and back down to the concert on stage. He ached to pull the curl and twist it about his finger and claim a kiss from those sweet lips. Jesus. He was going mad. He looked over at Malvina who was snoring softly.

  He didn’t want to appear too involved. He enjoyed Chopin very much but if he was honest with himself, he had barely taken in more than a few notes. He excused himself and walked to the front of the theater and down the steps.

  He didn’t enjoy tobacco the way some men did, but he felt an immense need for his pipe just then. He removed the wooden matches from his coat pocket and was just about to light his pipe when another man joined him in the wet evening.

  Val turned to nod and greet the man civilly and saw it was Charles Lyttleton.

  “Lyttleton,” he nodded.

  Charles lit his cigarette and greeted Val in turn. “We both had the same idea, I see Pierce.”

  “Seems so.”

  “I don’t recall you smoking much. Rowland yes. My god! He used to smoke the most god-awful tobacco, said it was from somewhere in Ken-tuck-ee.” Charles laughed. “What kind of place is called Ken-tuck-ee?”

  Val smiled and continued to puff on his pipe. “Possibly it’s a place somewhere in the Americas?”

  “Possibly.” Charles agreed. “And you’ve brought the lovely Miss Derry to the concert.”

  “I actually brought two Derry’s to the concert. One is a Miss and the other is a Mrs.” Val clarified.

  “No one is saying she isn’t a stunning woman, Pierce. Obviously, you’ve good taste.” Charles grinned while Val said nothing. “But a little out of your class wouldn’t you say, old chap?”

  Val smiled then. “If you say so.” He placed his pipe away and pulled out his small tin of Altoids and popped one into his mouth.

  “No harm meant, old man. It’s just that Caroline Derry for all her fanciful ideas, and my mother told me her latest scheme, which to me seems quite absurd, she’s quite lovely. A man can overlook all her silly ideas if he has that warming his bed.” Charles smirked.

  Val stiffened and was about to say something to wipe the smirk off Charles’ face when Caroline appeared.

  “Here you are! Hello Charles. Come you’re missing the best part,” she said smiling to both men and taking Val’s arm. Once inside they separated to return to their perspective boxes and Caroline smiled up at him.

  “What was Charles telling you?” She asked as they moved along the dark hallway to their box.

  “Something about you being lovely and you’re out of my class,” he murmured.

  “What? Why would he say that?” She gazed up at him.

  Val tried to swallow but he could not. “Maybe he’s jealous.”

  “Why would he be jealous?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well he’s an idiot.” She assured him. “Pay him no attention.”

  “Is he?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Did you mean what you said?” He asked her.

  “What did I say?” She turned to him.

  “You said most women wouldn’t find him appealing.”

  She nodded. “He borders on the odd.”

  “You said women like a different sort of man. A man with knowledge and dignity.”

  “I’m no expert. But that’s what women want. A man of integrity.” She said. “That’s what I want,” she added.

  “A man of integrity.” He repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “You said I’m such a man.”

  “You are.”

  “Does that mean you want me?” The question sounded crazy, even absurd when said aloud.

  “We should return to the box. My grandmother will wonder where we are,” she said.

  “Your grandmother will be asleep.”

  “Still—“

  “Tell me. I’d like to know.”

  “A man of integrity is a man worth having. I would think.”

  He smiled then. “That’s not what I asked you.”

  “This is inappropriate.”

  “Shall I tell you what men want?” He asked her, even as she shook her head. “They want beauty, but of course everyone wants beauty. They also want someone with fire inside them. They want a woman who is intelligent and knows her mind.”

  “Men don’t want that,” Caroline smiled in the dark. “I know. Gran has told me many times I’m those things and men don’t value those things.”

  “I misspoke. Those are the things I want.” His fingers moved along her face and touched the curl that had escaped the pins, and he twirled it around his finger, as he had wanted to do before.

  He didn’t know why he didn’t control himself more but suddenly the only thing that mattered was to feel her lips against his and her warm body in his arms. Nothing else mattered. He pressed her against the wall of the darkened hallway kissing the lips he had ached for. There wasn’t much of a chance for her to do anything but he felt her arms come around his back. He could feel the stays in her corset and his other hand moved up to touch her face. When he heard her lightly moan, he stopped.

  “Caroline,” he uttered lowly. “I—” he didn’t even know what he wanted to say.

  He could see she was flushed and unsure of the situation and he felt a wave of pleasure followed by supreme guilt.

  “We should return,” she said avoiding his questioning eyes.

  They walked back to their box and she managed to stay in front of him, glancing back at him only once to make su
re he stayed behind her. When they returned to their seats, Malvina was indeed drifting off to sleep once again. Val watched Caroline but she never said or did anything except to enjoy the concert. When it was over, he escorted Malvina and Caroline home and she did not say a word to him. He watched her enter the townhouse with her grandmother and he felt a sense of loss and sadness.

  ✽✽✽

  Caroline didn’t let herself think of what had happened at the concert until she was safely in her room. She had never experienced such pure desire and passion as she had that night, and the novels were all wrong. It wasn’t fireworks and dazzling light. It was a dark place of creamy chocolate and caramel. She closed her eyes. She had never experienced such a strong sense of losing herself, but at the same time she had wanted so desperately to press herself into him.

  She had said nothing to him because she honestly didn’t know what to say. Nothing seemed adequate. And she hadn’t said thank you at the end of the concert because she didn’t want the gratitude to be misconstrued.

  She pulled a sheet of paper and wrote a simple note to him to have it delivered tomorrow. She thanked him for the concert and nothing more. When she signed her name, she made sure to sign it C Derry so it did not seem overly friendly. She undressed and climbed into her bed.

  Looking out the window into the darkened night, she thought of his hands on her, and his mouth kissing hers. She shivered. She could still see his eyes watching her and his lips so sensuous claiming her own. She closed her eyes.

  ✽✽✽

  Val closed his eyes. He had not planned to kiss Caroline Derry but reason and propriety had been overcome by his desire for her. It was as simple as that. When everything was factual, he couldn’t deny it. He had wanted to kiss her. He had wanted to feel her. And now he ran the risk of her hating him, and he felt supreme sadness at that. One kiss to risk everything. Even if there wasn’t anything there, it seemed a petty thing.