The Hollow Woman

by Philip Saunders

  ‘There he is,’ Rachel whispered, passing me the opera glasses. ‘Third box in, white tux with a red carnation.’

  I looked through them, and sure enough there, in the third box, was a man dressed in a white tuxedo with a red carnation boutonnière, who was clearly captivated with the performance.

  Dominic was an extraordinarily handsome man, with a square jaw, dark brown hair, broad shoulders, and a muscular physique, which was extenuated by his perfectly cut suit. He looked like the kind of guy who took immense pride in his appearance and went to great lengths to maintain it, sparing no expense.

  Seated beside him was a tanned, platinum blonde in a gold-coloured, bodycon dress, and decorated with oversized gold accessories. She looked half his age, and probably was, and, unlike Dominic, she watched the ballet with a blatantly bored expression.

  ‘Who’s he with? An escort?’ I asked.

  Rachel took back the glasses and viewed his companion. ‘She’s not an escort, that’s Charlotte Eastleigh. She’s a textile heiress and socialite. I’ve met her at a few society events. Not the brightest spark and I know for a fact she absolutely detests ballet. For the life of me, I cannot imagine why she is here with Dominic.’

  ‘Shhh!’ The elderly man wearing a monocle in the seat in front of Rachel, turned his head and reprimanded us with a finger firmly pressed against his pencil thin lips.

  We obeyed his command and remained in silence watching the ballet for what felt like a long time before the curtain came down and the theatre lights came back on to signify the interval.

  ‘They’re leaving their seats.’ I suggested, ‘We should to.’

  We left our seats and went to the Paul Hamlyn Hall Champagne Bar where those in need of a stiff drink gravitated to.

  ‘No time to lose,’ Rachel remarked on seeing Dominic and Charlotte, standing together, waiting to be served at the bar.

  I reassured her, ‘I’ll be right behind you.’

  She made a beeline for them, and I followed, remaining a few steps behind. I watched as Rachel purposely brushed passed Dominic, and made eye contact with Charlotte.

  ‘Charlotte!’ Rachel exclaimed. ‘What an unexpected surprise.’

  I slid into position behind Dominic, and eavesdropped whilst watching what was about to unfold in the reflection of the mirror running along the length of the bar.

  ‘Rachel,’ Charlotte greeted more demurely. The women leant into each other and air kissed both cheeks. Rachel stepped back and remained to focus her full attention on Charlotte, who was admiring her dress. ‘You look sensational.’

  ‘Thank you, darling. You always say the sweetest things.’

  She asked her, ‘Is that Dior?’

  ‘Why, yes, it is.’

  ‘I thought so.’ Charlotte smiled to herself.

  ‘I thought you would be the last person I would run into at the ballet.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Didn’t you tell me, at the Serpentine Summer Party, that you absolutely detested it?’

  Charlotte stalled with fake laughter. ‘Did I? I don’t remember ever saying that. You must have misheard me, Rachel. I enjoy the ballet, immensely.’ She changed the topic by touching Dominic’s arm and asking Rachel, ‘Do you know Dominic McIntyre?’

  Rachel turned and looked him in the eye, a smile formed on her red lips.

  ‘We are already acquainted,’ Rachel answered, raising her hand to him.

  ‘Always a pleasure.’ Dominic took her hand in his, lifted it up and kissed it. Looking about, he asked her, ‘Where is Lawrence?’

  ‘Unfortunately, he’s all tied up tonight...with a demanding Japanese client.’

  Dominic raised an eyebrow and slowly nodded, saying, ‘I think I know the one.’ He added, with a smile, ‘If you ask me, Lawrence needs to have his head examined.’

  ‘Then you’ll understand why I’m here all alone tonight.’

  ‘Whisky, neat.’ I ordered a drink, to appear less inconspicuous as I lingered there.

  Charlotte, who was tiring of the conversation that didn’t involve her, excused herself to go “powder her nose”.

  Rachel moved to take her place. ‘Can I depend upon your discretion?’ She asked quietly placing her hand on his arm. ‘Our separation is not common knowledge. Not yet anyway.’

  ‘Absolutely. Moët,’ Dominic ordered to the female bartender. He asked Rachel, ‘You’ll join us won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Make it three glasses.’ The bartender obediently nodded.

  ‘So, tell me, how long have you and Charlotte Eastleigh been seeing each other?’

  Dominic laughed and said, ‘We are not dating.’

  ‘I did wonder. As matches go, I can’t imagine you two have much in common.’

  ‘To be honest, I haven’t been able to have a real relationship since she left.’

  Rachel stroked Dominic’s arm to comfort him, and said, ‘We can’t let the ghosts of the past hold us back from moving on.’ She complimented him, ‘I mean, you’re everything a woman could possibly want in a partner, handsome, strong, intelligent, successful.’

  ‘Be very careful, Rachel,’ Dominic warned, leaning in menacingly, before adding with a hint of a smile, ‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’

  She replied, ‘Tell me, Dominic, is it flattery if it is merely telling the truth?’

  He gave a single laugh and smiled. ‘You have a point there.’ I could see in the reflection that he was clearly enjoying having his ego stroked.

  Three flutes of champagne were placed before them. Dominic handed one to Rachel before taking one for himself.

  He said, ‘Let’s have a toast.’

  ‘But shouldn’t we wait for Charlotte.’

  He shook his head. ‘Charlotte’s probably still snorting up lines in the bathroom of whatever designer drug she’s into now.’

  Rachel didn’t seem surprised, simply saying, ‘Everybody has their vices.’

  ‘Only some are more sordid than others.’

  ‘Is that so? And pray tell me, what is yours, Dominic?’

  ‘Well, that depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On how far you’re willing to go to find out?’

  ‘Hmmm…Now you’ve got me positively intrigued.’

  ‘What should we drink to?’ Dominic asked.

  ‘Ghosts.’

  As they clinked glasses, their eyes met. Rachel had him mesmerised and he played straight into her hands.

  ‘Ghosts.’ He seemed amused by the idea. ‘What are your plans for the evening?’

  ‘I’ve made no plans.’

  ‘Will you come back to mine for a drink?’ Dominic offered.

  ‘How tempting.’

  ‘I will meet you outside. My chauffeur will pick us up in front of the opera house.’

  With the simple nod of Rachel’s head, the trap had been primed for the unsuspecting prey by his own hand.

  Chapter 20

  The red velvet curtain finally came down on the performance to a rapturous applause, and then lifted again in order to applaud each of the dancers, from the principals to the corps, by the end of which my hands were sore from all the excessive clapping.

  We walked slowly down the stairs in silence, listening to the commentary of satisfied ballet aficionados buzzing around us.

  As we crossed through the crowded lobby, which provided us with a view of the street through the large open doors, Rachel said, ‘I can see them.’

  Dominic and Charlotte were standing outside. They were saying goodbye, with a kiss on the cheek, the socialite turned and walked away.

  She took a breath and said, ‘I’d better not keep him waiting.’ Before Rachel went to make her rendezvous, I pulled her behind a nearby pillar. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Are you sure you want to go through with this?’ I asked her. ‘There are other ways of getting to him.’

  ‘Don’t try to talk me out of this.’

  ‘It could
be dangerous, Rachel,’ I warned.

  She shook her head, saying, ‘I have to see this through. For Grahame.’

  ‘If he thinks you are on to him. There’s no telling what he’ll do. Dominic’s a man with a lot to lose.’

  ‘I can take care of myself.’ Rachel opened her clutch and showed me the pistol inside.

  ‘Are you mad!’ I went to grab the weapon but she snapped her clutch shut and held it away from me.

  ‘Don’t tell me it wouldn’t solve anything.’

  ‘Gimme the gun, Rachel.’

  ‘Men like Dominic. They don’t get justice. Not real justice. He’ll get away with it.’

  ‘This isn’t the way.’

  ‘He’ll get away with it.’

  ‘We don’t even know if he’s the killer.’

  She kissed me. The kiss provided her with enough of a distraction to slip away.

  I watched as Rachel went outside and met Dominic, who suavely offered her his arm, which she took, and then he led her to the waiting Rolls Royce.

  His chauffeur was standing by the car, holding his cap in his hand. When he turned to open the door for them, the exterior lights of the opera house lit his face, I recognised him instantly. It was the same Chinese boy who had attacked me in Grahame’s flat.

  ‘Fuck,’ I muttered to myself, as Rachel and Dominic climbed into the back of the Rolls.

  I wasted no time, hailing an approaching black taxi.

  ‘Where to?’ The driver asked as I got in.

  ‘Tail job.’ I leant forward and pointed at the Rolls, saying, ‘Follow that car.’

  Thankfully the Polish driver didn’t ask any questions as he followed the Rolls to upmarket Holland Park, where it came to stop outside a gated, semi-detached Georgian townhouse.

  The taxi overtook the stationary Rolls, as the automatic gate slowly opened, and pulled in two cars along.

  ‘Excellent job.’ I paid the fare and gave him a tip.

  I got out as the Rolls was passing through the gate on to a driveway that sloped steeply downwards. Standing on the pavement I realised, if I was to get access to the property, that I had no time to lose. I ran up to the gate before it started to close, crouched and snuck around it, keeping to the shadows and crawling to a place where I would be out of sight, the side of the stone steps, which led up to the front door.

  Listening closely, I heard the car doors close, the sound of Dominic’s voice, I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, and then Rachel’s high heels going up on the stones steps.

  I managed to position myself to see an elderly man with thinning grey hair answer the door dressed in a three-piece tail suit. ‘Welcome home, Master. How was the ballet?’ His neck wobbled with saggy flesh as he spoke.

  ‘Very satisfactory indeed, Withers,’ Dominic replied. ‘We will be entertaining tonight. I entrust you to undertake the necessary preparations.’

  ‘Of course, Master.’ The butler gave a slight bow and then stood aside, holding the door, as they entered the hallway. ‘May I take your shawl, Mrs Sterling?’

  ‘Yes, you may, Withers.’

  As the door was closing, I overheard the butler say to Rachel, ‘It is so nice to see you again, Mrs Sterling.’

  I heard the whir of the garage door opening. I peered out from around the corner of the stairs and saw the Rolls rolling slowly inside. I left my hiding place and hurried to the corner of the garage. I waited for a moment, crouched down, quickly peered inside, the chauffeur was still inside the car. Remaining crouched, I rounded the corner, went inside the garage and then got on all fours at the rear of the Rolls, keeping my head to the floor and looking under the car.

  The garage door began to whir close, as the driver’s door opened, and I saw boots land on the garage floor. I watched the boots move, thankfully in the opposite direction, and then the garage light went out, and I heard a door open and close.

  I sprung back up to my feet and using the flashlight on my mobile managed to navigate the dark garage and found the door the chauffeur must have passed through.

  I slowly opened the door and went into a long, empty corridor. I slipped out into the corridor and took two steps before I heard the door behind me close with force. Before I could spin around, something hard and heavy struck the back of my head and I plummeted down to the floor. I think I let a groan escape before I dived headfirst into a pool of darkness.

  Chapter 21

  I don’t know how long I’d been out but it must have been a while. On opening my eyes, I found myself in another room, with a fireplace, that had a bright fire burning, and Dominic pacing back and forth before it.

  Hanging above the fireplace, was a large, painted portrait, set in a gold, gilt frame. The artist had perfectly captured Dominic, who stood, dressed in a tailored, three piece suit, complete with a pocket square, his confident, almost arrogant, stare penetrating out from the canvas, and beside him, was his pretty wife, Emily, sitting down, with long, wavy, brown hair, wearing a pale pink dress, her hands neatly folded in her lap, giving the remotest smile to rival Mona Lisa, and her eyes slightly downcast, tellingly so, seemed to convey everything.

  From my position, on the floor, the artwork dominated the room. I figured someone had dragged and dumped me there, at the foot of a grey, suede sofa, with someone sitting, eerily still, in the middle of it. Looking up, I saw a blonde woman, wearing a cream-coloured, knitted sweater and blue jeans. She had a black eye and bruises on her face and neck. Even with her injuries, I was able to recognise her. So this was where Emily had wound up.

  Opposite Emily, sitting on a grey, suede armchair, was Rachel. She was watching Dominic like a hawk, unaware I had come to. To my eye, she was unhurt, not one hair out of place, and sat with one leg crossed over the other, with a hand placed on her bare knee. If she was frightened, she wasn’t showing it.

  Beyond Rachel, standing guard by the door was the chauffeur, his arms folded, still dressed in his uniform, minus the cap.

  I think he must have been tasked with watching me, because when I moved on the floor, he gave one loud cough and then made a hand signal to Dominic, who stopped pacing and glared down at me.

  ‘Frederik Sorensen.’ I noticed Dominic was holding one of my business cards. So I’d been searched whilst I’d been out of it, I figured. ‘Now, why is a private investigator doing breaking and entering on my private property, I wonder?’

  I moved a bit more, managing to slump myself up against the sofa, gave a small shrug, and said, flippantly, ‘Following a hunch.’

  ‘A hunch? Really? And what hunch would that be?’ With a quick flick of the wrist, he tossed my card into the fire and smiled down at me.

  ‘That you murdered Grahame Kingsley.’

  At the mention of his name, there was an audible whimper from above me. This did not go unnoticed by Dominic, who moved behind the sofa and placed his hands on Emily’s shoulders.

  ‘I don’t think I know who that is.’ He asked her calmly, ‘Do you, darling?’

  Emily was visibly trembling, with Dominic’s large hands inching closer to her neck, as she shook her head.

  ‘Who hired you?’ Dominic questioned me.

  I looked at Rachel, I knew I shouldn’t of, but I did, and she was looking back at me. Her composure and eyes betrayed nothing. ‘Client confidentiality.’

  He let out a single laugh. ‘Client confidentiality!’ Dominic repeated mockingly. ‘What do you make of that?’ He began to target Rachel but his hands remained on Emily. ‘Who’d hire a detective to look into the death of some pathetic nobody?’

  Rachel replied, ‘I have no idea, Dom. I’ve never met this man before.’

  ‘How funny, you two looked pretty cosy at the ballet.’

  ‘Dom...’ Rachel started but Dominic silenced her simply by holding up one hand.

  He growled, ‘What am I going to do with you.’

  Undaunted, she stood up. ‘I am going home now.’

  ‘You’re not going anywhere.’ Dominic signalled to h
is chauffeur who closed and locked the door, and then resumed his position, slipping the key into his jacket pocket.

  ‘Fred, get up.’ Rachel said, ‘We will go and we won’t bother you again. I promise.’

  ‘You got that right.’ Dominic’s gentle way of expressing a subtle threat sent a shiver down my spine.

  I tried, valiantly, to get up, back on my feet, to be an active player in this showdown, but my injured head wouldn’t let me. All I could muster, at that point, still on the floor, was a feeble tough-guy expression, ‘Leave her alone.’ This went ignored, as if I’d not spoken at all.

  ‘Ever since that night, I’ve been waiting for you to seek me out. Do you really think that I’m that stupid, hmm? That I wouldn’t see through your pretty little charade?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean?’

  ‘Give it up. Know when you’ve been beaten.’

  Rachel must have realised, in that moment, that escape was futile, Dominic was not going to let us go, and I observed her body language shift, eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips, she looked ready to take him on.

  ‘Why did you do it, Dominic?’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘You didn’t have to kill him.’ Dominic tossed his head back and laughed like a maniac, as if murdering someone amused him greatly. Rachel, furious at his reaction, reddened and shouted with authority, ‘STOP LAUGHING!’

  To my surprise, Dominic did, almost instantly, and then spoke softly, not taking his eyes off Rachel, as one of his hands slowly moving upwards and began stroking his wife’s head, in a motion that appeared, on the surface, to be affectionate, saying, ‘I thought of all people, you’d understand.’ He then looked down at Emily. ‘I could never forget her. After she disappeared, not a day or night went by when I did not think of her, where she was, when we would reunite again, when she’d come back to me. We took vows, she is my wife, and she belongs to me...no one else will have her.’

  I was able to sit upright. ‘And when you finally found her again.’ I decided to provoke him further. ‘You must’ve been angry, right? To find her in the arms of another man?’